#hielo answers

[raquel-lopez]

Mensaje de la conciencia del agua💧para el despertar de la humanidad, por la Diosa Gisela, y a través de Maria Merçè Carbonell, canal de Luz, de la Comunidad "Luz y Conciencia" y dice:

"Soy la Diosa Gisela, la divinidad que vela por los ecosistemas, los equilibrios, el amor y hermandad, tanto entre planetas como dentro de este planeta.

Siente el poder del agua, siente el poder del amor.

Con cariño os digo que el océano Ártico se ha expandido para todos y que el agua tiene un mensaje para vosotros. El agua de todo el mundo, donde quiera que esté, se comunica entre sí, no importa si es en un lago o en la montaña más alta, no importa si es en una nube o en la Antártida, tan lejos del Ártico como sea posible, no importa. Todas las aguas resuenan con la misma frecuencia y ajustan esa frecuencia a esta nueva vibración que ha despertado. En el agua encontrarás las energías que buscas.

Para muchos de ustedes, este cambio los hará sentir diferentes, les hará cuestionarse quiénes son o qué sucede a su alrededor. Esto se debe a que respondéis a vuestra nueva frecuencia con cambios, situaciones y relaciones distintas. ¿Qué está sucediendo? El cambio no tiene por qué ser malo, de hecho es beneficioso, pero puede causar incomodidad y confusión. En el agua encontrarás la respuesta. Coge un buen vaso de agua, tómalo entre tus manos, respira hondo y deja que te ayude a equilibrar tus energías cuando te sientas sacudido. Este es un consejo que te doy hoy y te lo daré siempre. El agua tiene todas las energías que buscas, porque es ancestral, y el agua que tienes en tus manos ha viajado por todo el planeta, ha estado en aguas oceánicas, en mares, en ríos, en las nubes, en forma de vapor, en forma de hielo.. El agua que tienes en tus manos tiene todo lo que buscas, si no lo crees posible, pruébalo.

Toma el agua y pídele que te ayude a equilibrarte, a despertar esa energía de amor, fuego, resiliencia y adaptabilidad del Ártico.

En vuestro corazón se abren nuevas energías, se produce la expansión de vuestros dones y capacidades. Cuanta más conciencia y aceptación, más fácil será el proceso. Y el agua, cuando la vida te lo ponga difícil, te dará exactamente lo que necesitas. Es una herramienta poderosa".

~Diosa Gisela~

Message of the awareness of water💧 for the awakening of humanity, by the Goddess Gisela, and through Maria Merçè Carbonell, channel of Light, of the Community "Light and Consciousness" and says: "I am the Goddess Gisela, the divinity that watches over the ecosystems, the balances, love and brotherhood, both between planets and within this planet. She feels the power of the water, she feels the power of love. With love I tell you that the Arctic Ocean has expanded for everyone and that the water has a message for you. The water of the whole world, wherever it is, communicates with each other, it does not matter if it is in a lake or on the highest mountain, it does not matter if it is in a cloud or in Antarctica, as far from the Arctic as possible, It doesn't matter. All waters resonate with the same frequency and adjust that frequency to this new awakened vibration. In the water you will find the energies you are looking for. For many of you, this change will make you feel different, it will make you question who you are or what is going on around you. This is because you respond to your new frequency with different changes, situations, and relationships. What's happening? Change does not have to be bad, in fact it is beneficial, but it can cause discomfort and confusion. In the water you will find the answer. Take a good glass of water, take it between your hands, take a deep breath and let it help you balance your energies when you feel shaken. This is advice that I give you today and I will always give it to you. Water has all the energies you are looking for, because it is ancestral, and the water you hold in your hands has traveled the entire planet, it has been in oceanic waters, in seas, in rivers, in the clouds, in the form of steam, in form of ice.. The water you have in your hands has everything you are looking for, if you don't believe it possible, try it. Take the water and ask it to help you balance, to awaken that energy of love, fire, resilience and adaptability of the Arctic. New energies open up in your heart, the expansion of your gifts and capacities takes place. The more awareness and acceptance, the easier the process will be. And water, when life makes it hard for you, will give you exactly what you need. It's a powerful tool."

~Goddess Gisela~

Image channeled by: Elena Kagami

[ndnp-art-ct3]

Dannis Hielo is a demon who works as a Maintenance Technician at a Waffle House franchise restaurant down in Hell.

They have a curse that makes them unable to move or speak when looked at, kinda like an enemy in a video game. It's really annoying.

I plan to have more characters who work here, whether that be making new ones or repurposing old ones.

Blender stuff under the cut!

So, you see how there's a white outline when something obscures something else? Like, there isn't a white outline around the whole thing. But there are white lines on the hands so you can make out fingers.

That was really hard to figure out in Blender. But if you want to achieve the same effect, I'll share what I did.

So, the outlines are made using the inverse hull method. I won't explain that, you can look it up. (Although I can explain it if you send an ask about it, I love talking about stuff.)

This is what it looks like in the viewport, so before actually rendering.

The material for the outline is actually a mix of the color white, and a transparent BDSF.

This essentially makes the outline a slightly transparent white.

Then, in compositing, I have these nodes.

When you have the outline a slightly transparent white, overlaying that over the color black will make it a slightly darker white. To change that, I have a Color Key node that targets those off-white colors and keys it out. Then, I invert the matte and overlay that over the image, essentially turning those pixels pure white.

Then, I have a color ramp on the alpha, and reuse that as the alpha. This basically removes any pixel that isn't 100% opaque. This method works for me because I have anti-aliasing off (Render Properties > Film > Filter Size > 0.00 px) to get that pixel-y look, but if you have anti-aliasing, then it might look weird, idk I haven't tested it

I have no idea how understandable any of this is, something something xkcd 2501, but I'm happy to answer any questions.

You could get a similar effect by using the inverse hull method with a holdout shader (I did this with Aisha) and then brushing the white lines in with image editing software, but that'll only really work if you aren't planning on animating the character.

[andietries]

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the words in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word).

Thank you so much for the tag @lidensword I loved your short story! Really good way to use the words.

I was given mysterious, stone, sea, glad, I'm going to put the original thing as I have written and then an aproximated translation. My wips are a mess too lol (The first two are from the same wip curiously, lmao but it doesn’t have a title yet, the third is from a sci-fi and the fourth one I have mentioned it some time, is from “When the cat’s gone”)

The words I'm given are: forest, light, miscellanious and crime

Mysterious= Misterioso

"La primera estatua apareció en el parque de los patos. Una figura marmórea de una mujer sentada en la hierba, llevándose la mano a la frente como si estuviera evitando que el sol de la tarde le diera en los ojos. Entusiastas del arte se reunieron para ir a verla, compartiendo teorías sobre quién podría ser el misterioso artista de una obra tan elaborada. La segunda y tercera estatua se descubrieron al día siguiente"

"The first statue appeared near the Duck Pond Park, A marble figure of a woman sitting on the grass, she had her hand by her forehead, as if attempting to avoid the afternoon sun getting in her eyes. Art enthusiasts got together to admire her, sharing theories about who the mysterious artists might have created such an elaborate piece. The second and third statue were discovered the next day"

Stone=piedra

-Corte el rollo, Mallard-interrumpió la detective- ¿Por qué está volviendo a convertir a la gente en piedra?

_¿Moi?_ sonrió el mafioso, enseñando sus afilados dientes_ ¿Qué le hace pensar que he sido yo?

_¿Acaso cree que alguien ha olvidado las semanas que tuvo al Cuentacuentos convertido en roca en medio de su estanque Koi?

_¡Ah! ¿Eso? Uno roquifica a su peor enemigo hace siete años y ya la fama perdura pero, no me negará que era una estatua preciosa, esos suaves rasgos faciales, la figura esbelta, el...

_Por favor, solo responda a la pregunta

"Cut the crap, Mallard" The detective interrumpted, "Why are you turning people into stone again?

"Moi?" the kingpin smiled showing his sharp teeth "What makes you think it was me?"

"Do you truly believe someone has forgotten those weeks you had the Storyteller as your Koi Pond centre piece?

"Ah! That? One rockifies his worst enemy once in 7 years and the fame lasts. But you won't deny me he was a handsome statue, those chiseled features, his slender frame...

"Please, just answer the question"

Sea= Mar

El 27 de febrero del año 2150 partiría del Puerto Selenita Alef la fragata universal SS Mariposa con misión de observar e informar una región casi inexplorada del espacio liminal entre el sistema Centauri y Oort, también conocido como Mar de Éter.

Year 2150, February 27, the Space Frigate known as SS Butterfly would part from Aleph Moonbase in a mission to observe and inform about an uncharted region of the liminal space between the Oort Cloud and the Centauri System, also known as the Ether Sea.

Glad= agradecido

_¡Cuando te enterarás que te está tratando como un títere! _escupió su superiora a la cara sanguinolenta de Wilbur _ ¡No eres más que un simple peón en su juego por derrotarnos!¡Date cuenta, estúpido traidor! ¡No va a venir a salvarte!

A duras penas, levantó la cabeza para poderla mirarla a través de los cristales destrozados de sus gafas y dijo en tono frío como el hielo

_Soy perfectamente consciente que su afecto hacia mí solo era una mentira, nunca que le he caído bien a nadie. Pero estoy agradecido que al menos trato de utilizarme usando amabilidad, que es mucho más de lo que jamás recibiré de vosotros.

When are you going to understand that he's using you like a puppet! "The commander spitted to Wilbur's bleeding face" You are just a pawn in his game to defeat us! Open you eyes, stupid traitor! He's not coming to save you!

Somehow, he managed to lift his head enough to make eye contact through his shattered glasses and said with tone as cold as ice:

"I´m already aware that his affections were a lie, nobody ever has truly liked me. But I am glad that he tried to win me over with kindness , and that's more that I am ever going to get from you.

[nerdieforpedro]

Drawn in The Void Chapter 2: Where is the Ice princess?

Javier Peña x Roxanne Taylor (plus size OFC)

Fanfiction is 18+

Masterlist / Javier Peña Masterlist

Summary: Roxanne has many thoughts about Javier. Javier has thoughts about Roxanne. Steve and Javier actually put their deductive reasoning hats on. Watch out for Connie's cookies.

Word Count:!

Warnings: masturbation, jealousy, cursing, sexism (Old dudes in suits, never changes, also 1970's), sex work, body fetish, scaring a secretary, possibly poorly translated Spanish), rather dirty thoughts in the office.

Chapter 1

Javier was rarely turned down by women, almost never. He usually was at least able to get a good rapport with them, maybe not as good as the secretaries, but at least sort of polite like he is with his boss Messina. But she’s his boss that’s a woman he wouldn’t touch just for employment reasons. Roxanne was a tough nut to crack. It’s why he called her ‘princesa de hielo’ (ice princess) she was so tightly wound like she had an iron rod up her ass. Instead of talking to him, she left Peña notes reminding him to catch up on his paperwork. Last night was the first time he had really spoken to her, and he had many more questions than answers: 

Why does she carry a revolver instead of a standard issue pistol?

Why was she really here late at night, just for work? 

Why did she never talk to him? Those notes are passive aggressive.

Had she never really shot anyone? She was way too collected for that. He thought she was just in general affairs, administration, whatever the hell it’s called. Was she married? Had she ever been married? Does she have family? Where did she live? 

Is she even interested in anything fun?

Javier Peña doesn’t like questions without answers. His knew the other agents generally, and he knew way too much about Steve and his wife. He even knew a little about his boss in that she liked her coffee with one cream, two sugars. He would get Agent Messina some when he usually has some out-of-scope operation he and Steve wanted to do. Peña left for the night and met up with another working girl to unleash his frustrations on; from Escobar, from the ghosts of those he served beside him that were now pages on a report, the emptiness of knowing he would just coming home to whiskey and cigarettes and now, questions he had about Roxanne.

After Roxanne got home, she took a cool shower, not cold because she got sick the last time, she did that. After the shower, she popped on one of her old cotton nightgowns, drank some ice water and tried to sleep. Listening to the ceiling fan running a over her, thoughts lead back to Javier and that damn ass of his in those jeans.

“It’s two in the morning. Dammit.”

His hand on his hip, looking pensive and he reviewed cass files, he would smile and laugh with both the other agents and secretaries, though with them he was flirtatious, touching her hands, arms, shoulders. A few of them their lower backs. 

Roxanne had walked in the break room to get some more DEA strong and yet still didn’t have enough caffeine. 

The female agent’s hands roamed her own body.

Javier was behind Maria, one of the secretaries she had fired due to sleeping with that man. He appeared to be saying something in her ear that made her laugh as his hips swayed with hers, hands on them swirling in circles. 

She pinched one of her own nipples through her gown, her other hand trailed over her belly, she started to moan. “Fucking Peña. Community dick. Is there a Rolodex you use to decide who you’re going to fuck next?

A small moan left Maria’s lips, Javier purposely reached over her for a cup of coffee and told her.

She used her arms to prop herself up on her pillows so she could better reach her own heat. It was throbbing, begging to be touched, the back of her nightgown had a damp spot on it. One finger touched her clit and she jolted, trailing down the finger entered her dripping hole, and she said his name. 

“Hasta luego (later) Maria.” The man said as he walked out of the break room and by Roxy, not acknowledging her presence.

“Javier…you damn…pandejo (asshole). Acting like I’m not there, just because I’m not one of those skinny puntas (bitches). Shit.” She inserted a second finger inside of herself, pumping slowly. 

Her phone started to ring, she let it go to voicemail as she was not at all interested in who would be calling her home at this hour. The voicemail picked up and it was Messina, complaining that she wasn’t picking up her phone and she better not be sleeping through her call. Roxy groaned, stopped her fingers and tried to slow her breathing; she didn’t realize she was panting. Masturbating to that man…what was wrong with her? After she calmed down, she called Messina back.

“Hey boss. You called? Is it urgent? I’m trying to get a few hours' sleep.”

“Normally I would wait until tomorrow morning, but you’re needed for an op.”

“Huh? I haven’t been in the field since…”

“I know, but it require’s a woman’s touch. A woman who has some meat on her bones. As those old, wrinkled assholes said.” Messina sighed heavily. She knew what she was asking of Roxy, selecting her because she was a large woman. None of the secretaries and the few female agents they did have fit the bill. Plus, she knew if anything happens, Roxy could take care of herself.

Roxy got the gist of why Messina was asking this of her. She despised it, but if it could even give a silver of a lead to Escobar so she could go home, away from this war and away from Peña, she would do it. “What do I need to do?”

“Whatever tight dress you have, put it on and go to ‘El club del Melocotón dulce’ get a drink or two and try and get the attention of Jose Ruíz, he’s one of Gustavo’s enforcers.” Roxy’s eyes widened; she knew that name. He was basically Escobar’s number two.

“But how will I know it’s him? This Ruíz? What will I have to do to get close to him?” 

“The usual, suck up to him, hopefully get him to talk. Any way you can. He goes by ‘La Remora.’”

Her eyes rolled, the thought of possibly having anything remotely sexual to do any cartel members. “Fine. Just pick him up and what info her has and get it. Does it have to start tonight?”

Messina laughed, “No it can start tomorrow night. I hadn’t called to bug you for a while. You’re doing a great job with the office.”

“This is something you could have told me tomorrow, Boss.” Roxy’s rubbed her eyes, thankfully now she was getting tired. 

“Roxanne.” Messina said sternly. The hairs on the back of Roxy’s neck stood up.

“Yes Boss.” 

“I really do need you to take care of yourself, especially during this operation. I can’t lose you, you’re one of the few who listen to me no questions asked. Look through your closet tomorrow morning and let Blanca know what to take care of while you’re busy.”

Blanca was the most capable to the secretaries, she should be able to distribute the work fairly. “Sure.”

“Just remember, keep safe and no community dick.” Messina laughed as she hung of the phone. She knew Peña irked her to know end.

“She would say that. Ugh…” Roxy laid back in the bed and thought about what she might have that’s sexy. Nothing came to mind. She hasn’t been shopping in years and that was before she came to Columbia. She didn’t need anything sexy; it wasn’t required of the job. “Where do you even shop for stuff like that? Do they even have my size here? Dammit to hell…” her mind ruminated and she was becoming anxious. On the plus side, she wasn’t thinking about Peña anymore.

Javier arrived at the DEA headquarters at noon. He got some sleep, fucked a bit more and slept a bit more; showered and came to work. He did bring coffee for everyone though, which the office appreciated, except Messina. 

“Agent Peña, where the hell have you been?” She asked, walking right up to his desk. Agent Murphy slid his chair back so he wouldn’t be between the two of them. He wasn’t going to say anything and see what happened.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am. I was told by our benevolent office manager to get some sleep and come in later. I feel fresh.” Peña gave a shit-eating grin, he had been sitting with his legs crossed but eased back in his chair and opened his legs wide. Messina was pissed but knew she had to actually check with Roxy to see if this was in fact true. She shot him a dirty look and returned to her office, calling Roxy immediately.

“Yes boss?”

“Did you tell Agent Peña to come in late?”

A long pause, followed by a small gasp. Roxy’s face squinted. “I did. I take it he abused it? Did he even come in today?” She asked, she had been in her office reviewing things with Blanca and told the young woman that she was heading over to another office to help organize that one too.

“He did. He even had the gall to spread himself out like those old winkled bastards do. Stupid Peña.” 

The agent couldn’t help but laugh, she was glad she wasn’t the only woman he seemed to piss off. They were a party of two it seems. “Ma’am I’m going to finish briefing Blanca and the head out early. Don’t let the community dick bother you so much.” She laughed as her office door open; Blanca had entered with Murphy, a quizzical look came upon her face.

“Well hell freezes over sometimes, I didn’t think you ever laughed Agent Thomas.” Murphy said as he stood next to Blanca. The secretary nodded in agreement and handed her a folder. 

“What’s this?” Roxy asked as she looked the blank folder, it was heavy with papers. Blanca mouthed ‘Messina’ and she understood. She would look through it when Steve wasn’t here. Setting down, she looked up at the gringo, curious what he was here for. “I’m assumed you didn’t pop in here to see if I can laugh or not Murphy.” 

“I don’t want to but I gotta ask for some help on this one, I keep submitting requests for us to have more back up when we’re doing raids but there’s an asshole who keep rejecting it because of some form technicality. Any way around that?” He asked, Blanca had left at the word raid, she didn’t like hearing it, her younger brother has gotten killed in one of those raids by Escobar’s men. The secretary ran into Javier who asked her were Steve was, she paused since Roxy, and he were talking through something, but he took off those shades and flashed her his dark brown eyes and she pointed toward the manager’s office.

Steve was standing in the doorway finishing up, joking about how it would be easier to strong-arm whatever pencil pusher was making things so difficult since they wanted to raid one of Escobar’s production compounds. Agent Thomas smiled and said that it would only lead to more papers in between him and disrupting more of that devil’s empire. Pencil pushers are meant to make sure that in case anyone is actually alive to prosecute, they won’t wiggle out on a technicality.

Peña listened in on the conversation. It almost sounded pleasant, why did Roxanne only talk to him like you would this wall? He hasn’t tried to sleep with the woman and was never rude that he could remember. Yeah, there was the issue of paperwork but what mattered is that it was done. In between fuck sessions and sleep, he concluded that it would be best to have whichever secretary was willing to help him, fill out the paperwork and he can review and sign. That way, his signature actually be on it. But what else could it be, was she really that petty?

Steve started talking about Connie’s cookies and how she was experimenting with different kinds of flavors, some good, some horrible. Roxy felt slightly salty toward Steve because he was Peña’s partner, but he wasn’t a bad guy, and he genuinely loved his wife if he ate a pistachio-honey-raisin cookie for her. It was very sweet.

“Murphy, that’s riveting, the talks of your wife’s misadventures with baking. So much so that it makes this one look like she was actually listening to you.” Murphy stepped back as Peña draped his arms up the sides of the doorway, standing wide. The hem of his shirt rose, and a peek of his belly poked out and she could see his belly button. Javier’s jeans hugged his hips as he looked straight at the woman seated at the desk. Her eyes flickered for a moment, then returned to neutral gave, betraying that she does not want him here. Her body stiffened from her relaxed posture a moment ago, her eyes squinted, and her lips pursed tightly. She had some thick lips on her. “Sorry to interrupt the little talk, but we,” he said pointed at Steve and himself, “Gotta meet up with some informants.”

The woman’s hands ran over the folder she had been given earlier, eager to read it. “That’s fine. Be on your way Agents.” She replied, standing up and walking across to the door, Steve and Javier stepped outside.

“Thanks for encouraging me to get some rest. It was well needed.” He said quietly. Javier was actually thankful. It had been a long time since he had gotten six hours of sleep in a row. The rest was spent, working out distractions, reviewing notes and drinking. 

“Good for you Agent Peña. See you later Murphy, tell Connie to not be too experimental, you’ll actually need to be able to go after Escobar unless she wants you to feed him some of those cookie flavors.” She laughed in Steve’s direction and softly shut her door, not looking in Javier’s direction at all.

“Well damn Steve how do you get her to warm up? Was there some coke in those cookies?” Javier shook his head as they stopped by their desks to grab their stuff.

“No, she’s actually okay. She’s one of those slow to warm types.” The other agent answered, doubling checking that he had his gun and extra ammo.

“Those are my specialty, Steve. I can’t figure her out. It’s like I spit in her coffee or kicked her dog or something. La princesa de heilo.” Peña muttered and grabbed his jacked as they headed out to the car. 

“You’re still the only one that calls her that, also it doesn’t help that you don’t follow any of the guidelines set up. They were a bitch to learn, but now I know where to look for stuff instead of digging around for hours.” Murphy smiled it had been quite a change to get used to a filing system and having a set place where files and materials were instead of which ever place had room, but it made pulling up information that had already found a lot faster which led to some better results already. Javier rolled his eyes, lighting a cigarette, Steve was right, but he didn’t want to say it. He stayed silent as they drove off.

“Ugh….I already hate the thought of this.” Roxy looked through her folder at La Ramora, her target. He favored the bar El club de Melocotón dulce, but more than that, his type. He was one that has a fat girl fetish. The worst kind, she has known too many men like that, they saw her as soft flesh to claim and not a person at all so that meant they could anything their sick little minds thought of doing to her. “Now I get why she apologized last night. Messina, you’re lucky I got your back in this broken ass boy’s club.” The club looked like one of few that employed women who were ‘plump like empanadas’ it made her laugh and then she thought about how she was hungry. Blanca came in a brought some coffee and a stack of papers, sitting down across from her desk. 

“So you review all these daily?” She asked concerned. Roxy nodded and took a sip of the coffee. It had four creamers and five sugars. An audible ‘mmm’ escape her lips. 

“Thanks for the coffee, Blanca. You’ll have to review them and put them on Messina’s desk for a final review before they’re faxed to the Miami DEA office.” The against explained then took a large gulp of coffee.

“Oh, Javier brought the coffee in for everyone. It’s amazing he knows everyone’s order like that.” She exclaimed before peeing at the open file on your desk. “Is that an op? You’re going in the field? That makes sense.” She mused.

Roxanne gagged on her coffee, the sweet Java bubbling back up the throat before she swallowed it back down. He knows how I like my coffee. How does he know that? I make my own coffee in the break room. I choked; I could have gagged on his dick while he was in that doorway. His sexy little tummy, I’d have pinched it while I suck him dry.

“Ma’am? Agent Thomas are you okay?” Blanca stood and smacked Roxy’s back trying to help.

I’d rather be getting smacked on my ass before he fucks me on my desk. I’d end up drooling on these forms.

Her thoughts were even more intrusive that this morning. After she had woken up, she masturbated not once but twice before finally getting dressed and rushing into work. She didn’t eat anything. Roxy waved Blanca away after her coughing subsided, she shot a dirty look at the coffee. Now when she drank it, she was going to think of him too.

“Yeah, only you and Messina know, so as far as you know, I’m helping out at another DEA office that needs to get organized.” She explained. “Do you know where I can get sexy clothes Blanca? That will fit me.” She added, embarrassed to even ask. Blanca gave her a few shops to try and told her to make sure she had multiple sizes of condors on her as well as some changes of clothes. Sex work wasn’t unusual in Columbia so most people either had done it at some point or knew someone who did. It just wasn’t talked about openly. Roxy was thankful for the information and headed out to go shopping. Her role as Sofia would be starting tonight.

It had been a week since Murphy and Peña had seen Roxy. Blanca was in her office and doing her best but seemed stressed out. Steve offered to help Blanca with some of the paperwork when they had downtime. Javier tried as well, but since he hasn’t cared to learn much about the process or system, he wasn’t much help. He decided to go to Messina as someone was clearly going on.

“Where’s the manager Boss?” He asked, plopping down in the chair across from her, she chuckled.

“I’m your manager and boss Javier, you need to stop wearing those sunglasses inside.”

“You know who I mean.”

“She’s getting another DEA office organized like ours. I’ll let her know she’s missed when I talk to her next.”

“Blanca’s stressed out, actually all of them are.” 

“Are they so stressed out that you haven’t fucked them? I think not, so they’re okay.” Messina say back and watched his eyebrows raise. “It’s an open secret Agent Peña. The only reason you’re not fired is because there hasn’t been another incident of people fighting in the building.”

Javier bit the inside of his mouth feeling like he has gotten caught red handed. It dawned on his though, was there another DEA office? Black sites sure, Columbian law enforcement of course, but a second DEA office? “There’s no other DEA office. We’re the only one’s out here. That’s why you had to come here.”

Messina gave him credit; she didn’t expect him to figure it out. “Yes yes. She’s still helping other law enforcement get stuff set up, we’ve got to be prepared on all accounts.” Messina explained. Though it was a lie.

“Is she doing her own operation? Does she have back up?” He asked, the pieces falling into place. 

Messina sighed. “She’s fine. It’s an assignment from the brass that they felt she was suited for.” With that she tried to wave Peña away.

To him, that only meant that she was likely working vice, he knew what female agents were usually told to do and even though he objected, the brass had a few of the secretaries help them lure some of Escobar’s men in. He couldn’t imagine the ice princess doing anything remotely like that. She was too cold for that, at least to him.

His blank look took Messina for a surprise. She knew the nickname Javier had given Roxy, ice Princess. She decided to tease him since he had barged in her office, “Are mad that your princess is only cold to you Javier? Or are you the type that likes it that way?”  His face puckered, loathing that Messina knew about the nickname he had for Roxy, the woman who managed to get under his skin and irk him to no end. He left Messina’s office, muttering under his breath, “This is bullshit. She can’t pull off that kind of job, she’s gonna get killed or worse.” 

He returned to Blanca’s temporary office and stared at her, she stopped and looked up at him, so did Steve.

“Agent Peña? What’s wrong?”

“You know Blanca. Tell me.” He asked in a dark tone; he didn’t have a playful look on his face. He was serious.

“Jesus Christ Javi, why you talkin’ to her like that?” Murphy questioned. Entirely confused.

“What op is she working? Who is she trying to get to?” He asked, not letting up.

Blanca bit her too and looked down. “S-She’s helping with another DEA office.” Javier scoffed at her poor excuse. At least Messina had said it with some conviction. Murphy thought for a moment.

“There is no other DEA office. That’s why I came here…Blanca what’s going on? Who’s he…Oh. But where is she then?” Murphy asked looking at Blanca who started to tear up.

“I-I don’t know. She just asked for some recommendations…I don’t know.” Blanca stood up and started toward the door, but Javier shut it and stood in front of it.

“Recommendations for what Blanca? What could she had needed your help with….” Peña’s voice trailed off. “Esa mujer loca (that crazy woman)…where did she go Blanca?” He sighed. Blanca was rather fashionable so it made sense to ask her clothes one might need to be a working girl. 

“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. She just said she’s going after a fish.”

“A fish? Wait fish…fish..” Murphy memory had been jogged, he pulled his notebook out and flipped through the pages. There was one enforcer that was known for liking a certain kind of sex worker. Almost all the cartel likes sex workers but one ‘fish’ had a preference that most of the DEA didn’t fit. “I got his name, La Remora but I don’t know what he looks like, or where he hangs out at, other than Gustavo, he’s rarely with anyone else which Gustavo seems to like that way.” Murphy explains.

Javier was hating this more and more; it was bad enough she was going on her own operation but with such a heavy hitter? What was Messina thinking?

“We’re gonna have to find her before…”

“Before what Agent Peña?” Messina was at the door. “Roxy is a grown-ass woman and an excellent agent and one that I trust. You two capullos can run around shooting, destroying shit and fucking,” Messina shot a narrowed gaze directly at Peña on that last part, “But you want a well-trained agent to come back in a blow her cover because you’re worried?” Put that sexist shit in your hand smoke or jerk with it.” Messina seethed and slammed the door.

“Shit Javi, I think you really pissed her off this time.” Murphy shook his head.

Javier scratched the back of his neck. All his suave demeanor didn’t mean shit today. His boss read him for filth and poor Blanca was sniffling in the corner. He guessed had warmed to his ice princess after all and that’s why he was so worried. Peña gave Blanca a hug and apologized for scaring her. He then left the office and took a drive, leaving Steve to help Blanca with the paperwork.

[antoniomartinez]

Hola clase, pidieron algo para romper el hielo. Esto es "Me encanta" o "No me gusta". Let’s see if you can make it through this ice breaker without looking words up or asking me to translate. To play, you reply with “me encanta” if you like it or “no me gusta” if you don’t. I’ll try to pick prompts that are easy to guess, I’m trying to show that some things aren’t too difícil. Then I’ll give you another prompt to reply to. If you want, I can give my answer too, for a little more fun.

Do you love it or do you not like it: control del orgasmo?

[slutforsnow]

Chapter 3 of

The Blue Note

"Nightmares and Tears"

Summary: Koton has a nightmare and is comforted by Lyla:)

Notes: A big TW for screaming, thrashing, blood, and abuse. I will try to not go into too much detail, but if it's too much, feel free to skip!! The nightmares will only be briefly mentioned in the future! ^^

"The hell...?" She muttered, looking around herself. The room was dark, yet it was frightening. It was ice cold, like a cooler from gas station during the night shift or the creepy hospital scene in Scream five.

Rubbing her arms, Koton hesitantly took a step forward, only to flinch back, hearing a familiar voice.

"このバカ野郎！何もできないの!?" He yelled, causing an ear splitting scream to erupt from behind Koton. She turned quickly to face the man, only to be met with her 4 year old self. She was laying on her side, bleeding, shaking, and non-stop sobbing. Beside the young girl was a now shattered and valuable plate. Trans.:YOU STUPID BITCH! CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT!?

Koton gripped her own shirt to try and steady her breathing, which she hadn't noticed had started rising. 'Not this night... this night was one of the worst...' She thought, trying to swallow her anxiety but the lump in her throat didn't budge.

She wanted to run and pick up her younger self, cradle her, and protect her from this nightmare. Her canon event... her years of abuse straight from the hospital to the midnight of her birthday. When October 30th became October 31st; the day it all changed. The day her family died and the day she was gifted with a new one.

A loud and sharp shatter shook Koton out from her thoughts and caused her to gasp and shoot up from her bed.

Her heart was racing and before she could process it, she started crying. Curling up into a ball, she buried her face in her knees and rocked back and forth on her bed, just crying. Though not as dramatic or painful as her child self's screams and wails of agony, but still painful. She was an O'Hara; she wasn't supposed to cry. Her father never cried, so why should she?

But on nights like this, it was unavoidable. The past was so hard to bring up or even think about. Despite Miguel trying to encourage her into therapy, it never worked. The therapist was either bad at their job, a predator, or a pedophile and Koton was just... unwilling. Not because she didn't want to, but incorporating something new into her routine was not going to be fun.

After a few moments, Koton perked up to a bright glowing light spawning in her bedroom.

"Hey, Lyla," She greeted, sniffling and wiping her tears.

"Hey, KK- oh no- Miguel told me you might be upset- what happened...?" Lyla asked, growing about 5'7" and sitting on Koton's bed, running a hand through her hair.

"Another nightmare... basement," the blue-haired female replied, leaning into Lyla's loving touch. Lyla had always been a mother-figure to Koton and did most of the work when Koton first got her period and wanted to know about pregnancies, how to avoid them, what sex was, birth control, etc. Despite giving the 'cool auntie' vibes, Lyla had always been a mother figure to Koton and Lyla knew that. She thought it was sweet that she was considered a mother figure.

"Oh honey... I'm so so sorry..." Lyla softly muttered, gently scratching her scalp, earning a small shrug in response. "Do you want me get Miguel..?"

"No thanks... I just wanna stay here with you, mama..." She answered, after a moment and pulling her stuffed penguin, Hielo, close to her. Lyla smiled, a bit teary-eyed, but nodded.

"Alright, honey. I'll stay here, as long as you need," The AI told her, earning a loving nuzzle from the 19 year old.

[musyke]

ok odd ask but 1. cld u reccomend any bands and also 2. whatre ur fav poems,,,,

not odd actually, these are topics I get very excited talking about kshdks

okay so, it depends on what kind of music you like but lately I've been listening to The Mountain Goats (The Sunset Tree album brought me back to life), Vial (rage, she/theys screaming at you, beautiful, they have an official Tumblr too), the strokes because they're iconic (is this it and the new abnormal are great albums), arctic monkeys because I love them.

AND I'm now devoted to latino indie rock meaning Charly García mostly, so in bands that would be Seru Giran (you HAVE to listen to La Grasa de Las Capitales, I do not care if you don't know spanish, you learn, this is the single best album I've ever heard), and Sui Generis, and his single albums are amazing (clics modernos, piano bar). I also like No Lo Soporto (Avión is an amazing album), and Nicolás y Los Fumadores (I love them so much, listen to Como Pez en el Hielo and Dios y la Mata de Lulo o ¿Qué Hacer En Caso de que Haya Perdido La Luz?).

If you're interested in solo artists I would also be very happy to talk about some :3

(artists are in bold and albums are in cursive)

Now, for poems I have a whole ass document with loose poetry I collect, and I have a lot of poetry here on my blog (I'm terrible at tagging but I have a #poetry tag, I don't think it has much tho), but I think some of my concise favorite poems are "If you were coming on the fall" by Emily Dickinson (I love Emily Dickinson so much) and right now I'm reading Crush by Richard Siken and it is destroying me, I cried for three poems straight today, some of my favorites are "Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out", "Unfinished Duet", "I Had a Dream About You" and "Saying Your Names" (saying your names ripped me apart, I cried and cried through the whole thing), but if you can read the whole book I highly recommend it because every poem is part of the story.

Neruda is also a favourite, I loved "20 poemas de amor y una canción desesperada". OH, and 'I Will Love You" by Lemony Snicket is amazing and I love it too.

That was a long ass answer but I hope it was what you expected to find out? thanks for asking! <3

[hielorei]

Lmao what was your problem with Black Panther and Homecoming???

well, The movie itself wasnt bad, was simple and kinda underwhelming in my opinion, it was over hyped. The problem I have with Black Panther for me is T’Challa.

I was so hype for the guy in Civil War, I was fuck yeah this dude is going to be amazing. but then I was disappointed. and here is why, In my opinion he was very hypocrite. He spent the whole movie seeking revenge because the winter soldier killed his father, but when he sees that zemo also wanted revenge because the avengers killed his family, he suddenly change his mind??? why?? dude! you were like him just a minute before… and in that scene nothing happened for you to change your mind other than seeing yourself in this dude, the logic path would have been going after the avengers because they killed this man’s family that caused your father’s death.

but okay, I couldnt judge him with only one movie, so I waited for Black Panther, and was nervous because all the reviews said it was amazing, that was weird, nothing bad? not a single critic? no movie is perfect. 

the movie was okay. Wakanda was amazing, everything about wakanda was great, architecture, clothes, culture. I loved Wakanda so much that i was sad when they leave to Korea, I was “no please, stay in wakanda i want to see more!”. I loved Shuri so much! I was smiling every time she was on screen! and Okoye! she was amazing and fun and did you see her rock that dress???! I even liked the gorilla people of the mountains! and Killmonger was such a cool villain! but this is the MCU, of course they are going to waste him.

again, the problem I had wasnt about Black Panther the movie, but with Black Panther the character. he didnt change from civil war, how old is he? sometimes he acts like a responsible adult and king and others like a silly teenager?? he was the whole movie saying that wakanda must stay hidden and then he decides to open to the world? you know you are putting your people at risk?? I was so happy when Thanos snap him outta existence! because it means that now Shuri is the Queen, Shuri is now the Black Panther! Good Job Thanos.

In other hand, Im not Black nor from the USA, so it didnt had the same impact culturally for me, but I understand its importance, Black Panther for you wasnt just a movie, it was an event, an statement, a movement, and its great, I really hope this movie opens the door for more black talent in Hollywood. but for others countries, who doesnt have the same reality as USA, Black Panther was just another marvel movie, and most of the people I know went to see it because was the last movie before infinity war. most people I know went to see it because the soul stone had a high chance to be there, Black Panther was just another chapter in the infinity gauntlet story.

and for Homecoming the answer is simple, I dont like Peter Parker that much, and I didnt like the fact they took so much from Miles Morales and give it to Peter… dude, your boy Peter has a lot of story to take from, dont steal Miles’ friend… and that “Flash” it was so obvious he was supposed to be Harry Osborn, and whats with all the fake bullying? dude, both of you are fucking nerds, stop, this doesnt make sense! and I was kinda disappointed that, even with this so amazingly diverse school, didnt see some characters pop in the background like lets say, Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales, Kamala Khan, Amadeus Cho, Robbie Reyes, Cindy Moon, Ava Ayala, America Chavez, Teddy Altman, and even with some time travel/magic you can have Billy Kaplan and Tommy Shepher… 

Im not saying giving them a casting or a line, but a teacher could have dropped some names as a neat easter egg, you could have Kamala introduced here to hype Captain Marvel even more, you can have Miles, Gwen and Cindy all get their powers in the same incident with Peter, you can have Amadeus since him mom already show up in Ultron, and with that you can introduce a new Hulk 

Other than Peter not being my favorite character, the movie missed so many opportunities to build the MCU…. and the movie at times was so damn boring, most of the people were using their phones and i didnt care, I enjoyed seeing the nudes the guy front of me received. 

I think another thing it helped was I dont like comics focused in one character, Im more of a team guy, I love reading about relationships between members, either if they are romantic or just friends, and how that relationships have a weight in the story and affect it, Thats why I dont like Batman but I love the batfamily. or I dont like Wolverine, but I love his kids so much. I love teams so much, I love Young Justice, The Runaways, Young Avengers, Teen Titans, Titans, The Justice League, Justice Society, CW’s Legends of Tomorrow, Power Rangers, and the list goes on. I love Teams and Interactions. 

in conclusion, did I hate the movies? no. did I had problems with them? yes. Im I saying the movies were bad and no one should like them? fuck no! who the fuck am i to tell you what to enjoy? if you like it, go you! Im really happy for you. the movies just were bad for me.

[luhvinit]

🎩

🎩 ¿tienes algún talento secreto? ¿cuál es?

Soy muy flexible, pero seguro eso fue por las clases de ballet que tuve en la infancia.

[spanishskulduggery]

I realized I've never done the "D as in dog" clarification in spanish before, and last night my brain opted for "D como daño", which probably says something about me... Anyways, do you know what these are called, and what the "standard" ones are in spanish?

So I don't think there's a standard one in Spanish. There are multiple answers you could give, but many use proper names or names of cities.

As far as I know this is called el alfabeto por palabras "alphabet by words" or el abecedario telefónico "telephone alphabet"; and it's different in different places

Even in English I hear different ones, except I usually hear "B as in boy", "V as in Victor", "Z as in Zebra", "M as in Mary", "N as in Nancy", etc etc I know that's not in order, don't at me but for the other words it's kind of up in the air

-

Ones that I've heard or seen - often based on cities or countries!

(PLEASE KNOW THIS IS NOT STANDARDIZED I DON'T THINK A STANDARD VERSION EXISTS IN SPANISH?)

A de Alicante / A de Antonio / A de Argentina / A de Alemania [Germany]

Be de Barcelona

C de Colombia / C de Cádiz

D de Dinamarca [Denmark]

E de España [Spain]

F de Francia [France]

G de Guatemala / G de Granada

H de Historia [history] / H de Hada [fairy] / H de Hambre [hunger]

I de India / I de Inés / I de Italia [Italy]

J de José / J de Jerusalén [Jerusalem] / J de Japón [Japan]

K de Kilo

L de Lorenzo

M de Madrid / M de Marco / M de México

N de Navarra / N de Nicaragua

Ñ de Ñoño [wimp] / Ñ de Ñu [wildebeest]

O de Oviedo / O de Oso [bear]

P de París / P de Portugal / P de Perú

Q de Queso [cheese]

R de Roma [Rome]

S de Sábado [Saturday] / S de Sevilla

T de Toledo / T de Tomás

U de Uruguay

V de Valencia / V de Victoria [victory, or the name] / V de Venezuela

W de Washington

X de Xilófono [xylophone]

Y de Yugoslavia

Z de Zorro [fox] / Z de Zaragoza

And I'm not sure if I've heard the one for LL. It was always doble ele or ele doble. I personally would probably say LL de lluvia but it does make sense when you're spelling something to say two Ls

Oh, also CH is not its own letter now, but I believe I was taught CH de chocolate or CH de Chile

Please know that my experiences are based primarily on European Spanish, so I'm not sure what they might say in other countries

Also I'm just assuming y'all know how to pronounce the letters in the alphabet which you might not so I would recommend looking up the alphabet in Spanish on youtube and hearing someone pronounce the letters

Also RR is called doble ere usually, it's typically said or written like that. RR never begins a word so it's always considered a special case and doesn't have its own letter in that kind of alphabet. I think I was taught RR de carro (?) but told it’s not its own letter exactly(?)

-

Also there's B and V which have different names depending on where you are. B and V have a similar sound when pronounced in Spanish in many words, so there are

You might hear B alta/larga or V baja/corta/chica where it's "big/long B" and "short/small V"

We were also taught B de burro "B as in donkey", and V de vaca "V as in cow"

Btw when I was in school our teacher gave us flashcards that had the letters and some things that were definitely for little kids but it was something like:

A de árbol [tree]

B de burro [donkey]

C de casa [house]

CH de chocolate

D de dedo [finger]

E de elefante [elephant]

F de flor [flower]

G de gato [cat]

H de hielo [ice] / H de hamburguesa [hamburger]

I latina / I de iglesia [church]

J de jirafa [giraffe] / J de José

K de kiwi

L de león [lion]

LL de lluvia [rain]

M de mariposa [butterfly]

N de naranja [orange]

Ñ de ñu [wildebeest] / Ñ de ñandú [idk how to describe it, it looks like an ostrich but it's not an ostrich exactly? It's called a "rhea" in English]

O de oveja [sheep]

P de princesa [princess]

Q de queso [cheese]

R de rana [frog]

S de serpiente [snake]

T de tomate [tomato]

U de uva [grape]

V de vaca [cow]

W de Washington

X de xilófono [xylophone]

Y de yoyo

Z de zapato [shoe]

And you know it's old when CH is still included because CH and LL haven't been considered their own letters since 2010. I still think they're important, but they're not considered letters in and of themselves

-

The other ones that you might hear are i latina and y griega which I included above. Literally this is "Latin I" and "Greek Y" because i and y have the same sound when pronounced in the alphabet like that, and Y is said to be Greek while I comes from the Latin letters

Occasionally though you will see la Y pronounced as la ye

And finally, LL is sometimes included in alphabets and sometimes not. In the abecedario it's typically la elle which is pronounced with the LL sound; but you might also see ele doble which is "double L"

-

If anyone has any other examples or things they were taught, please let me know! I'd be curious to see if there are any differences

[proxima-mente-blog]

¿Cuál es el personaje psicológicamente más fuerte?

[scribbleseas]

The Indignant Pawn, Chapter VI: The Importance of Pluck

Description: You are Y/n Y/l/n- formerly known as Princess Helena, the runaway princess.

You're an assassin for hire who only agrees to find the worst of London's criminals at the business end of your knife; until a mysterious woman hires you to end the likes of Ciel Phantomhive, the King of the Underworld. You find yourself trading your weapons for your abandoned family crest in order to infiltrate his home as none other than Princess Marie-Louise, your twin sister. What's to happen when you find that the young Earl is more than a callous businessman?

OVERALL STORY WARNINGS: sexual assault, objectification, misogyny, death, detailed description of blood/gore, detailed description of murder, lying, impersonation, theft, weapons, detailed panic attacks and flashbacks, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Author’s Note: Hi! Thank you so much for enjoying this story so far! I can’t wait to take you down this wild road with this cast of characters. As always, if you have any questions or concerns about the story warnings, please don’t hesitate to contact me! Please note that the warnings are subject to change by each chapter.

-Dan

⇠ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ⇢

. . .

FEBRUARY 14TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“Y/n!” Andrea’s calloused hands pulled you into a tight bear hug, causing you to stumble forward, uncoordinated by the sudden movement of the door and her springing towards you and Autumn. Reluctantly, you melted into the embrace from the sole reminder that this was the same woman that showed you the separation between your traumatic childhood and reclaiming this facade. Not to mention, a few phrases of conversational Spanish. 

“Buena noches, Andrea,” (Good evening, Andrea) you greeted halfheartedly, your foul mood having yet to completely subside from the front of your mind. Without Doña’s need to meddle, you never would have needed to leave the warmth of the guest quarters in the middle of the night in the first place. The mission was completely under your control- the objective remaining as crystal clear as it was on day one. Killing Lord Phantomhive was not nearly the challenge your subconscious was making it out to be.

“¿Dónde está Doña?” (Where is Doña?) You asked once Andrea released you and motioned towards the reins that you clutched in your hand. Asking for the location of a local stable would have been next on your course of action. However, she seemed to know exactly where to keep Autumn for the time being.

“Inside...still waiting for you. Diego will show you the way,” the woman gestured to the familiar man as he crossed his arms in the doorframe. The same playful smirk tugged at his lips, suggesting that he heard some kind of joke that he didn’t dare repeat. Andrea started off with Autumn in tow, the horse’s tail flicking back and forth lethargically.

“The dress hugs tight,” Diego commented patronizingly as he led you through the hall. You could tell by his comment that Diego was only trying to provoke your outrage, no matter how you tried to keep your face neutral. Of course, the dress fit your frame better- you were eating three meals a day alongside some form of an extravagant dessert. There was no shame in enjoying good food while it was available to you.

“You’re one to talk,” you glared at Diego’s back as he walked. His black trench coat was tied around his lean frame tightly, the bottom shifting with each step that he took. The outline of his gun holster was clearly fastened around his waist beneath the coat. There was nothing more ridiculous than the thought of a man like Diego having the morality to murder someone. But you supposed if that was the case, he wouldn’t affiliate with women such as Doña-  or yourself.

“Doña, she arrives,” Diego stopped short before a small living room. The vicinity was warmed by a tame fire in the fireplace, the orange hue painting the rest of the room. As the rest of the rooms were, this room was notably empty- save for two sofas and a single table between them. 

The lady herself, Doña, occupied the middle of one of the couches, nursing a rum-spiked coffee, her thin fingers wrapped around the thin stem of the glass. The scent of the over-proofed rum drifted about the room, causing you to cringe. You’d never understand why Spaniards preferred their coffee with hard liquor mixed in- according to Andrea, the combination was called a carajillo.

“Lovely,” Doña’s painted lips spread into a satisfied grin, the corners of her mouth pulling upwards. “Sit Y/n. Sit,” she said, patting the cushion next to her with a free hand. You made it a point to sit in the middle of the empty sofa across from her, your hands smoothing over your petticoats as you regarded the light ecru Doña wore. The majority of the top layer was made of tulle so to create a softer ambiance to oppose her burgundy lip color- such as a shade that was forbidden for royalty, or any self-respecting woman.

“I’ll go help Carmen with the...bebé,” Diego cringed as the sound of Doña’s wailing child sounded from the floor above. “Excuse me.”

“I haven’t all night, Doña,” you snapped impetuously as you watched the woman’s face, contemplative as she listened to her daughter sob. You heard Carmen seethe ‘¿Por qué no podemos ponerla en adopción ya?’ and in response, Diego only laughed. Andrea was still putting your horse away, but the sobbing would likely stop the second she entered the baby’s line of sight.

“If only you had the same sense of urgency in completing the mission I assigned a month ago,” Doña took a long drink of her carajillo, her face twisting at the taste. “Did you not guarantee me seven days at most?”

In a fit of haughtiness, you had made a claim that went something along those lines. After all, the longest you spent on one mission before this one, was waiting for the servant rotation of Agatha Tolton to switch in your favor. The woman was rarely alone and you preferred to only kill your targets during a mission.

“There are unforeseen obstacles inside the estate,” you lied. In truth, you spent plenty of time alone with the Earl- three meals a day and occasionally, time in the foyer at night. Hiding your dagger in the folds of a nightgown and stabbing him wasn’t out of your capabilities and yet, you were postponing it for the comfortable treatment- even if it was all stolen from Marie’s identity.

“Unforeseen obstacles in the estate,” Doña repeated, unfazed by your lie. “What sort of obstacles could possibly be new to you?”

“There’s something...uncertain about his butler,” this concern nagged the back of your mind from the moment you got there. From the second he greeted you in flawless German and subtly as each day passed on. Despite being the head butler of the estate, he was too capable at some points- always being prepared when you and the Earl requested tea or hot chocolate in the dead of night, answering questions that you purposely keep from saying. His speed.

“Sebastian Michaelis?” Doña’s frown deepened, making her look at least five years older. Creases from constant scowling marred the corners of her lips and between her symmetrical eyebrows. “We discussed his role in Phantomhive’s life. You said-” her accent butchered the Earl’s name, turning the i into an e, which resulted in his name sounding more like Phantomheave, rather than Phantomhive. 

“Doña, I’m aware of what I told you,” you hissed as she brought the flute of spiked coffee to her lips and drank again. “I said that he wouldn’t present an obstacle to my objective.”

“And yet?” She asked, goading your temper, tempting you to take the drink out of her hands and dump the rest of its steaming contents down her nightgown. Your fingers curled into fists, as you compelled yourself to stay seated on the couch. Your nails dug into the flesh of your palm, the sensation tolerable, but something to focus on, nevertheless.

“And yet, I’m reassessing my strategy because of him,” you lied. Sebastian made for a decent excuse, above all of his other uses.

A brief moment of silence passed before she asked, “must I eliminate him for you, Y/n? It would be a shame to need to aid my hired killer-...almost as distressing as wasting a handsome face such as his, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Looks have nothing to do with anything, Doña,” you ignored the turn of her curt grin while she finished off the rest of her carajillo with a sigh. She put the empty glass on the low table that sat in between the two of you, the bottom landing with a soft clink. “If I have to kill Sebastian Michaelis, I will do it myself.”

“We can share tactics with you,” Diego offered from the side of the room, where he and Carmen were standing. The baby had stopped wailing several minutes ago, moments after Andrea returned from putting your horse away. “You seem as if you need many,” he teased, sharing a patronizing laugh with Doña. At your glare, his face sobered, although a smile seemed to taunt the corners of his lips.

“Your tactics,” you scoffed, “what skill does it take to pull the trigger of a gun?” You could recall the weight of the handgun you had used at fourteen, successfully killing two men within minutes of each other. How could Diego pride his reliance on a weapon? 

“You bitch! You’ll, you’re going to bloody p--” James screamed, glowering at you as he struggled to get his fumbling hands in place. But he was too slow. He fell to the ground, blood beginning to blossom near his lower ribs.

“You’re a clever one, Princess,” Diego chuckled, showing the palms of his hands in defeat. “I might ask you for tactics for how you look so detached,” he quipped, shaking his shoulders to create an animated shiver. 

“Princesa de Hielo,” Carmen mumbled, which caused Doña to laugh again, the effects of rum beginning to seep into her cold personage. Her deep brown eyes settled back on you, hardening as you met her gaze. Eye contact was quite a fragile social concept- you weren’t confident with Spanish customs, but in Germany, it expressed attentiveness but in excess it expressed pride. 

“The two of you...go retrieve Y/n’s horse. She’s souring the atmosphere,” Doña shifted on the couch to turn her back to you, and the liquid in her glass flute hit the side and slid down again. There wasn’t much to the drink when you sat down in the first place and now, the glass was nearly empty.

Doña waited for Diego and Carmen to leave before she lazily got to her feet and stood before you, her expression sobering as if she hadn’t finished off her drink. With her proximity, you could smell the faint tinge of rum from her lips.  “And as for you- I want him dead. I don’t care how it’s done- simply finish him off and you’ll have your compensation. Do you understand?”

Her pupils were nearly swallowed whole by her umber irises, the threat in them ever-present.

. . .

FEBRUARY 15TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

Within the first few minutes of riding back to the Phantomhive Estate, snow began to fall, dropping from the clouds in fat flurries that rolled down your neck and made it nearly impossible to see fifteen feet in front of you. The wind whistled in your ears as you encouraged Autumn to continue her steady gait, even as the snow began to stick on the cobblestone streets of the city.

The distance from the manor to the heart of the city was sizable without the beginnings of a blizzard, but the horse’s hesitation, as well as your own, had severely delayed your arrival time. In fact, by the time you were scaling the wall of the manor, the sun was beginning to ascend the horizon, starting the day as the snow continued to pile and stick. Your fingers were numb since you had to remove your thick gloves to properly cling to the stones that jutted out of the main house’s foundation, leaving them vulnerable to the sharp surfaces and cold air. You were lucky that your quarters were located on the second floor, but that wouldn’t matter if Mey-Rin found the room empty upon entering to wake you.

The moment you reached the window beside your bed, you swung one leg over the still and then the other, reveling in the fact that you had, in fact, managed to return before Mey-Rin entered to wake you. Your trembling hands made messy work of tearing off the sides of the gown that were pinned to the stays on your coset, letting each piece of your riding habit fall carelessly to the floorboards until you were left standing in your corset that sat over your white shift- the base of any dress. Unlacing it was never this challenging when you sported middle-class clothing articles, leaving you to tug at the strands that kept the constrictive item together as several pairs of footsteps began to grow closer to the closed door of your quarters.

Your front teeth sunk into the inside of your lip as your descent into panic worsened with each passing second, fruitlessly attempting to untie the knots that you had secured yourself. Clearly, you had made some kind of mistake in re-dressing yourself prior to leaving for Doña’s new home.

This was exactly what you had feared.

“And you absolutely certain she isn’t here, Mey-Rin?” Sebastian’s posh voice questioned, moments before the door swung open, revealing you half-dressed and positioned in front of your open window. Mey-Rin and Sebastian were behind the Earl, the maid’s eyes glassy as if she was about to cry, and the butler’s face completely impassive, like a statue’s. Instantaneously, the Earl’s gaze fled to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere as long as it wasn’t on you.

Your hands fell to your sides and in the most delayed reaction, you exclaimed, “raus!” (out!). You turned your back to the doorway and hugged yourself.

“I believe she is far from missing, thank you,” the Earl’s voice was steadier than you would have anticipated, “my apologies, Your Highness,” the sound of rapid steps that implied his and Sebastian’s departure down the corridor followed as you released a weak exhale. 

“I came to wake you and you were missin’, yes you were,” Mey-Rin said . “I assumed the worst, I’m sorry Your Highness.” she asked for permission to undo the thick knots that you couldn’t undo. You nodded once, facing her as she nimbly undid each one. “The young master is going to want to know where you were off to...he was awfully concerned havin’ just returned from Lady Elizabeth’s…” if Mey-Rin wasn’t paid to fuss over you, you might’ve pitied her.

“I love the snow. I wanted to be outside on my own- I thought I could return before you notice I went out,” you explained, the lie was on the tip of your tongue from the moment you fell behind your plan. Mey-Rin breathed a sigh of relief and began to properly lace the corset and fasten a new stomacher, this one was a deep shade of red, resembling claret with its notes of magenta. The rest of the gown matched the shade.

“The snow is much prettier here in the countryside," Mey-Rin agreed as she continue to prepare you for the rest of the day; twisting your hair into another tight bun, brushes of powder over your face and shoulders and gentle hands of rogue on the apples of your cheeks. Within several strokes of a brush, your familiar blemishes disappeared- like a wave of a magic wand. 

Each step from your room to the main dining room maximized the nostalgic pit in your stomach. You sat to the Earl’s side at the breakfast table, as per usual. He was uncharacteristically quiet, leisurely lifting his steaming cup of tea to his lips and taking a long drink, his eye having yet to properly leave you. Lord Phantomhive did well to remind you of Governess Lydia and the countless instances you were scolded by the woman after an unbearably long silence. 

As a grown woman, you were too old for this. 

“Lord Phantomhive-” you started, only to be swiftly interrupted by the loud clunk that punctuated when he aggressively returned his teacup to its saucer on the table. Droplets of tea ran down the porcelain and pooled on the small dish. What waste.

His voice was fatally calm and as per usual, each word was punctuated to the syllable. “I am entrusted with your life, Your Highness. I thought it was clear that you aren’t to leave this estate unaccompanied without myself or Sebastian,” he said, “My duty to Her Majesty is to protect you to the extent of my capabilities and beyond that.”

“I was within the perimeter of this estate!” You countered, your hand pausing as you were about to spread a healthy bit of margarine over the head of a muffin,  that Sebastian had decapitated for you. Instead, the continent fell from the smooth blade of your knife in a heap before you began to spread it. “If that is your grievance with this morning, then your contention is certainly misplaced. It should not be a crime for me to wish to be outside. Alone.”

“Your Highness, there is a death threat over your head. Your going outside unaccompanied is a point of contention for me, yes,” the Earl said, as if this information should have been obvious. Granted it made logical sense- defenseless royalty needed to remain within lines of defense, however, you posed as a needy princess who was unacquainted with the concept of no. “If you are so fascinated with snow, a commonality in your home country, then you might wait to ask-”

“Thank you for your concern,” you intervened icily, aware that you had waged a losing battle from the moment you protested. “Keep in mind that it’s quite easy for the walls of this mansion to grow dull, My Lord.” 

. . .

FEBRUARY 17TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

The world outside of the windows was blank- completely grey and white. For the third day in a row, you were trapped indoors, hiding from the dense blizzard and idly roaming the layout of the estate. Every single room was familiar to you now- studied not once, but multiple times, making it simple for you to find the source of the rich violin that reverberated throughout the second floor of the mansion. Each step you grew closer to the frantic melody, vaguely aware of how clumsily you moved from the haste of your curiosity. The dramatic violin picked up, growing louder, steadier and more urgent the closer you came. The violin belonged to a special place within your battered heart- the noise caused goosebumps to erupt up and down your arms, despite the plentiful warmth that generated throughout the manor.

From under the closed door, a metronome prudently clicked away and your fingers immediately tapped against your petticoat in response, corresponding with it as your eyes stared into the painted wood of the door in front of you, your dominant hand resting on the gold knob.

One and a two, one and a two, one and a two...

The piece was executed flawlessly- until a new passage began and gradually fell behind the tics of the metronome and your fingers as they continuously tapped your skirt. It wasn’t long until the instrument abruptly paused, leaving the mansion to silence once again. 

“Your technique leaves much to be desired, which is why you fell behind. Perhaps a proper audience might motivate you, sir,” Sebastian suggested, his voice muffled by the door. You were in the process of turning back to the library to continue the book you had abandoned to stretch your legs, but instead, Sebastian opened the door behind you. 

“Your Highness, it would be a privilege for my master to entertain you with his most recent selection: J.S Bach’s Partita for Violin Solo,” Sebastian explained, forgoing his typical use of German, “it would be terribly rude to allow you to listen from outside as he would otherwise have it,” he said pointedly, showing you to a plush loveseat as the Earl stood, his violin and bow poised in hand while he glowered at the score on the music stand in front of him.

“I appreciate it,” you took the offered seat and watched as Sebastian started the metronome once again and pushed up his glasses, which seemed special to his role as a tutor. 

“Again, from the twelfth line. This time, perhaps watch your spiccato and left hand articulation- the aim is to hear every note unequivocally, yet remain up to speed,” Sebastian said, but you suspected that the Earl had properly tuned him out in order to prepare to lift the violin and prepare to play again. 

Your gaze was drawn to his fingers as they danced along the neck of the violin, pressing and moving every second with the tact of a seasoned player. In the light, the gems on his rings winked as the light’s perspective on them changed as he played. It was mesmerizing in a sense, watching the Earl focus on one task entirely. His eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, drawing closer together during more difficult areas of the piece. You watched his expression remain the same during each time he ran through the section that Sebastian requested as he slowly worked through the tense parts until the butler excused himself in order to begin the preparations for supper. 

“Have you played for long?” you asked, watching as he loosened the string of his bow and began to wipe it with a small, neatly folded cloth. 

“About four years now, I believe,” he cautiously laid the bow and the violin to rest in their case. “Do you play?”

“No,” you said, without thinking. “I am much more partial to the harp- my sister played the violin,” you attempted to maintain the neutrality in your face upon recognizing your mistake. Marie was a mediocre violinist, which meant that the proper answer would have been ‘yes, but not quite so well’. Instead, you implied that Marie was a harpist and the missing, presumably dead princess played the violin. It was a fact that the royal family did not understand until you had left and there was no one playing the harp in the castle. However, it was not common knowledge that either princess had proficiency with the harp in the first place.

He wouldn’t catch such an inconspicuous mistake. 

“The harp,” Lord Phantomhive mused, as if the thought amused him. “Fitting, I reckon.”

Frankly, you couldn’t remember the last time you touched the delicate strings of a harp, the sensation of their vibrations against your fingertips. As a girl, it was the only outlet that you could express yourself without breaking any rules- for the most part, at least. 

. . .

The thick blankets of puffy snow on the ground made it so even the postage arrived late that evening, since roads leading to the countryside out of the city had yet to be cleared. Thus, the Earl flipped through the Westminster Review and you pretended to consciously read the English Woman’s Journal post-supper, between taking turns in a slow-moving chess game, rather than reading through the news at the breakfast table. 

You absentmindedly fiddled with the corner of the thin printed paper as you instead watched the Earl regard the ornate chess set that sat in the middle of you, his side black and yours white. For the second time that day, you were met with his face of complete thought and focus- even if the game was already won on his part. 

Frankly, the Earl was an aggressive player and you weren’t accustomed to someone who played sharply and meticulously at once. Not to mention, the last time you played chess, you were about twelve and huddled up in layers of clothing inside, attempting to stay warm in the conman’s measly shack as the two of you hid from the winter that nipped at your noses. “Checkmate,” he sounded as if he was much too accustomed to saying it. The smug tilt of his head merely exaggerated the false humility of his.

Even though you expected him to make that exact move, your shoulders slumped anyway as you huffed impertinently. You were never the best at losing graceful; not in the castle, not with the conman and certainly not by yourself. Especially coming off of your second loss that night. 

“This evening was the first as well as the last time I’m playing chess as your opponent, Lord Phantomhive,” you rolled your eyes, tentatively scoffing as you began to reset the board, abandoning the newspaper entirely.

“Competitive, Your Highness?”

“Everyone is,” you responded, “the nature of humanity is to win; be it a war, or a simple game of chess. I despise any loss and I’m certain you feel the same, My Lord,” you ignored the piqued quirk of his eyebrow to properly finish setting the pieces to their starting square. 

“I do fit the requisites by simply being anyone- or a human, at the very least,” Lord Phantomhive seemed almost too amused by the statement- and the entendre went above your head. What was the alternative to not being human? You weren’t one to believe in anything you could not see and if there in fact, gods and demons among civilization, surely you might have attracted one, given the life you led. However, you didn’t entertain the thought beyond a stoic chuckle. “Why don’t we begin the next round, best out of five?” he suggested.

“You’re only after the satisfaction of winning five matches against me. Two ought to be plenty,” you accused, not that you blamed him. If your strategic mind could translate to ornate pieces on a board as it did with your profession, then you would happily play the Earl time and time again simply to win.

“Fine, then. Why don’t you choose the next game?” Lord Phantomhive gestured lazily towards the armoire that stood against the wall. Sebastian opened it earlier to retrieve the chess pieces from their velvet box and among the shelves were several boxes of games- several produced by the Funtom Company. Picking one of those would be nearly an instantaneous loss, considering he had a hand in creating it. You decided to settle on a classic and gingerly pulled the box that was labeled draughts. 

Draughts was an easier game in comparison to chess- while each had clear winning objectives, draughts was a straightforward game- capture the opponent’s pieces with your own. Each had equal strength until later in the game, whereas chess was a complex strategic war from the start. Playing draughts, there was much less room for error as games ought to be. Besides, you took pleasure in watching the Earl struggling to move pieces with equal power across the board while you played checkers countless of times against the conman and his friends, on the occasion.

Before you could finish the rest of your newspaper (the poetry bit was rather strenuous to get through), one of your double-stacked pieces- a king- double jumped his, decisively ending the first game of checkers of the night. “I thought you would show more of a fight, My Lord,” you scooped a victorious hunk out of the cheesecake that Sebastian delivered minutes prior. The rich Quark cheese was sweet, marrying the tart raspberry compote that was drizzled on top, syrupy in nature as it pooled around the remnants of the cake slice.

“Chess and draughts require different sets of strategies,” Lord Phantomhive responded, feigning nonchalance so as to take the loss civilly but nevertheless, he wore his frustration on his tightly pursed lips and a lack of eye contact which he normally provided in excess. “I’d bet I could win the next round now that I’m...acquainted with your style of playing.”

“Fine,” you aquised, “one last round for tonight because I simply must see you defeated again.”

. . .

FEBRUARY 24TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

If this pedal harp had eyes, it would have glared at you from across the music room. It was taller than you- glorious and intimidating, the dozens of strings perhaps daring you to pluck at them. The column was made of solid gold and with Lord Phantomhive’s fortune, you could assume that it was as genuine as the rest of the novelties that lived among the estate. This harp was perhaps the most intricate one you had ever laid eyes on, besting the rich mahogany instrument that you learned on as a girl. It was mandatory for the princesses of Schleswig-Holstein to practice womanly, demere hobbies and paradoxically, Marie was by far the worst violinist in Europe in spite of displaying every other desirable trait a young princess could wish to emote. 

You were the most gifted musician out of the four heirs to the German throne, which was a fact that Governess Lydia preferred to keep to herself. Nobody needed to know that it was Glücksburg Castle’s Devil Child who was producing fiercely beautiful Mozart concertos from the confinement of her quarters after a good repremandment for misbehavior. 

“My master requested this pedal harp to be handcrafted for you by George W. Lyon and Patrick Healy, the founders of Lyon and Healy- an overseas company that qualifies as the cornerstone of quality instrument creation. He corresponded closely with the two men over the past week,” you could hear Sebastian’s overly saccharine simper, even as you closely inspected the floral engravings that decorated the harp’s crown, straight down to its foot. The golden column must have been polished recently but even so, it couldn’t completely outshine the work that was put into styling the harp’s wooden soundboard and the neck, which was its signature concave top. “I do hope it's to your satisfaction- the Lord Phantomhive was eager to present it himself, however-”

“He is occupied with hosting his emergent business meeting,” you interrupted haphazardly. The Earl wouldn’t care about the Funtom Company once he was dead and besides, you couldn’t seem to find out why water damage within a single cacao refinery was such a major issue. There were dozens of cacao refineries that Lord Phantomhive funded- nosing through his official documents had told you so. “Well...think nothing of it, I suppose.”

“Of course,” Sebastian bowed, his hand over his heart, “your leniency is much appreciated, Your Highness.”

“I would appreciate being left to my own about now,” your fingertips brushed over a red string, which indicated that it was a C. On the harp, the strings were colored, indicating different notes and as if in a trance, you were tempted to play more of them as Sebastian left the room. 

The blue strings were F strings, A string was the string in the middle of the groups of three, if your memory served you well. It had been about a decade since you last touched one with the intent to sit down and play. You doubted you could, the longer you stared at the abundance of strings and yet, you claimed the upholstered chair behind it anyhow, sitting down. You cautiously pulled the harp back towards you until you found its balance point and allowed it to rest gently against your chest- practically weightless.  

Your the rest of your body seemed to recognize this more than your mind as you subconsciously repositioned the front of the harp to angle it. You could hear Lydia’s seething tone telling you to keep your arms “Halten Sie Ihre Arme in einem Winkel von 45 Grad zur Senkrechten!” (Keep your arms 45 degrees from the vertical!) properly from your body, your wrists curving gently towards the strings. 

Playing the harp was your escape as a child and there you were, once again in need of an escape. Being in a strenuous position with no clear course of action...maybe you hadn’t grown nearly as much as you thought you had.

Or at all.

The back of your neck provided an affirmative stab, causing you to bite your bottom lip, paying the chapped skin over it no mind. Ignoring the reality of the situation, did you well- it chased away nightmares, the interrupting thoughts and ironically, you were sitting before an instrument that used to help you do just that. Except, all it was doing for you then was stir thoughts and memories that could have used to remain secluded for at least one more day. 

“Mozart himself would have treasured your talent, dear girl,” Ida, one of the many maids that were assigned to prepare your sister for important events said. She was tying the back of Marie’s dress from the back, the satin laces a deep abrugene to match the rest of the garment. For young girls, clothing was quite simple- pinafores, dresses, sensible flats or boots. You weren’t introduced to the horrors of training crinolines and corsets until it was the year you went missing and stayed that way. 

“It was nothing, Ida,” Marie-Louise yawned, extending her hand out to another maid, Lotte for her to slide a lace glove onto it, pulling it up to reach her forearm. The team of three maids worked around her like bees in a hive, hovering and flitting about, making useless conversation to please a girl who was nowhere near half of their age. “Music comes easy to me.”

No, it didn’t. The extent of Marie’s musical ability was to pick up a violin and brandish the bow, only to force the poor instrument to squeal about a few noises before she gave up. Marie liked everything to come easy to her- she liked to be a natural talent, a prodigy with anything she attempted. 

Music came easily to you, but within the walls of Glücksburg Castle, all you knew how to accomplish was wreak havoc and delay plans. It didn’t make sense for music to come easily to you and so, no one believed you, no matter what you said or how you said it. 

“They ought to organize a recital for you, Your Highness. Her Majesty would adore hearing you play,” Lotte suggested with a smile that seemed forced- like clothespins were pinching the corners of her lips and cheeks in place.

“Why do that when Mr. Brahms and Mr. Strauss performed for us already?” You couldn’t help but interject, their words irking you as you stood on the other side of the large quarters- in front of your own separate vanity and armoire. Two other maids, Emery and Katharina were assigned to you were also whisking around you like overeager bees, but they didn’t bother to coddle your self esteem. You appreciated that they did their job and silently at that. Nothing could convince you to forget the disappointment that furrowed their faces when they learned that they would be tended to you instead of your mother or your sister. They were treated with stiff contempt from the minute they introduced themselves in lieu of it. “They’re musical geniuses and you’re a princess.”

A lying princess, at that. 

You were asked to remain looking forward while Emery caked your face and neck in thick powder and rouge and Katharina tied a chain of pearls around it. It was the exact ensemble that your sister’s team was assembling for her, except Ida and Lotte were much less time-efficient. The point was, Marie-Louise was free to face and glare at the side of your head, her seven-year-old mind trying to formulate a witty, yet tactful response. 

“You’re a princess as well, Helena,” Marie-Louise hissed, “but you just can’t ever be normal and act like one.” It always had to come down to that, didn’t it.

“Just when did Governess Lydia teach us to lie in Etiquette Class?” You turned to your sister, which was admittedly, the equivalent of staring at a scowling mirage of yourself, who seemed to be on the verge of shedding frustrated tears. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest. “I must have properly missed such a lesson, considering everybody seems to abide by it.”

“Please, that is quite enough, miss. Supper is nearing and we wouldn’t want to present you both late. Poor form is unbecoming,” Ida, the most experienced maid only scolded you in the process of intervening. That was to be expected. 

You didn’t respond and simply allowed Emery to part and braid your hair into a tight bun as Katharina secured your boots in tense silence. Most of your life up to that point was in tense, furthering silence anyway and yet, the royal family had the audacity to be surprised when you fled.

Supper was always the same. Your older brothers, Albert and Christian sat prudently on one side of the table, you and Marie-Louise were across from them and your mother was absent, visiting the Hampton Court Palace to see the Royal School of Needlework to its opening, since she was its first president. While she was one of the most active people in the royal family in charity work, her duty as a mother ended the moment she pushed the twins out of her womb. 

“Helena,” Christian said, acting as if he had lived through the many experiences of a king in only sixteen years. “Your Royal Guard came looking for you in the cricket field this morning- again. Where were you off to today?”

“I was with Hanna,” you lied, puncturing the rough exterior of the sausage on your plate with the tip of your knife before properly slicing it. In truth, you hid yourself in the stables because the animals were better company that anyone on castle grounds. “We were-”

“When did Governess Lydia teach us to lie in Etiquette Class?” Marie-Louise mimicked your words from prior, purposely making a mockery of your voice as she scrunched her nose. “Thora went out to sit with the pigs and the filth, Christle,” she explained employing the frankly bothersome, nicknames that your grandmother started. 

Christian ignored her and instead gave your father a long look, trying to get him to instead chastise you but to no avail. His Majesty was much too occupied with attempting to stab a piece of sausage whilst reading a letter. Kingly duties- and this was what your older brothers wished to embody. 

“It’s getting cold. If you’re so compelled to ignore your duties, may as well do it safely,” Christian mumbed gruffly, causing Albert to snicker in turn. Albert had the right of it as you fought a grin, setting your utensils down to signify that you were finished with your meal- the tips of your fork and knife met on an angle at the top of your plate, similar to a triangle.

“Very well, Christle,” you stood up from your chair, breaking the code of the highest ranking individual needing to finish his meal before anyone else left the dining table. In which case, that would be your father who was still satisfying himself with a serving of knödeln- potato dumplings. He mouthed each word that he read because it was likely written in French or English. “I ought to go to amuse myself, then.”

You showed yourself back to your quarters, Ida’s pleas for you to return to the meal and properly wait for His Majesty to end it. You hesitated in front of the closed door, the impertinent anger from your sister’s mere existence returned in seconds, causing you to impulsively go to the games room, where the harp was kept, and do exactly as you were forbidden to. 

You were forbidden from playing while Marie-Louise was occupied elsewhere- a rule that Lydia had threatened you over. But the moment that servants understood that it was your mastery that filled the castle corridors, they would detest it. Marie-Louise could live with being a little less affable in their eyes and even if she could not…

Some deserved not to. 

You opened your eyes, unconscious to when they had closed. Your fingers froze, the skin on them raw and burning familiarly, your wrists protesting the angle you held them at. Your hands trembled having expertly recalled the daringly simple melody of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, but before you could try to recall some piece by Liszt (the name was lost to you), Mey-Rin entered which was likely for the better. You were prepared to sit on that chair until your fingers bled, in spite of what it made you recall. 

“Lunch is about ready,” Mey-Rin’s eyes were red and bleary, but you made no effort to question it, thankful that she refrained from commenting on your playing. “Are you feelin’ alright ma’am? You’ve gone a bit red.”

“Yes, thank you. I might’ve overexerted myself,” you suggested, which was true. Your head pounded the moment you tried to stand. 

“Why don’t I bring it all up to your room,” she offered, “you just rest.” She briefly looked down at her boots, presumably checking the laces because tripping was quite a common occurrence for her. How the fragile antiques that Lord Phantomhive collected remained whole was beyond you when the only maid was a clumsy and slightly gullible...täuschen, or half-wit, as the conman might’ve said. But in this case, she had a point. Nothing sounded more appealing than having lunch alone in your room- without his (snarky) Lordship.

. . .

There were no time constraints at the estate- absolutely none that told you when you could play or when you couldn’t. 

This was exactly how you found yourself before the harp once after your nightly routine concluded. You were pulling the harp back to lean on your shoulder like a woman possessed, hungry for control of some kind. Whether it be dragging the blade of a knife across your victim’s throat or more realistically, pulling the strings of a brilliant instrument that must have cost half of a fortune to commission. Besides, if you killed Lord Phantomhive, you would have to leave before having at least a few more chances to make the beautiful instrument sing.

The hour called for something demure, rather than you experimenting with what your muscle memory could or could not conjure. You immediately began with Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major once again, willing your gaze to remain on your hands, actively fighting off any intersecting train of thought while you played. You focused on every flick of your wrists, the shift of your slipper on the pedals all while your hands knew exactly where they needed to be and when. 

At least they did before the shrill vibrato of a violin interjected the alto hum made by your harp. It came from the next room over, the Earl’s office, no less clearer than it would have been from a few feet in front of you. The violin took the melody that you willingly surrendered for the sake of keeping the piece uncluttered and subtle, as it was intended to be. 

This was how Lydia wanted an accompaniment between you and Marie to play out- you vaguely recalled the sheet music that she painfully attempted to teach her. Clearly, your counterpart was never able to grasp the music well enough and the accompaniment never took place- even after you embarrassed her that night. After your father dismissed your siblings, she came to the music room and had an... entirely becoming temper tantrum in your face- such a display would have ended with you being locked in a closet for several hours. Ida simply escorted her back to the quarters you shared and made her a glass of chamomile tea to calm her down.

As the piece came to a mutual decrescendo, it slowly faded away, ending with a soft glissando. It was unlike Lord Phantomhive to give you the last word without so much as the irked look or in this case, an irked trill.

Tags: 

[verity-artiz]

estas enamorada de antonina?

No.

[ultravioletqueen]

Decidí hacerle un rediseño a kuromori y kokkuri, hacerlos más cercanos a la mitología japonesa

Kuromori

Gran parte de el sigue igual, su arma hace referencia a la agricultura de la antigüedad(que usaban ese tipo de guadañas para cortar plantas en el Japón antiguo) el hace referencia a los onis(demonios japoneses),sigue siendo frío, calculador, sereno y con el carácter de un samurai,por lo que le quise dar una apariencia más parecida a la de los samurai o ronins(samurais sin dueño). Su relación con mystery es neutral, no perdona que los haya abandonado pero acepta su decisión a regañadientes y esta en contra de la idea de shiromori de usar su sangre ya que sabe que lo podría matar, por lo que aún se preocupa por el y lo ve como un padre. Sus poderes son:cryokinesis(control del hielo) ,cytokinesis(control de las plantas), rastreo, fuerza sobrehumana y regeneración.

Kokkuri-san

Quise darle un gran cambio y hacerla más parecida a su contraparte yo-kai, ella es sabia como un zorro pero también embaucadora y bromista por lo que no hay que tomarse sus respuestas muy en serio, podría estar bromeando,protectora y leal como un perro y traviesa como un mapache. Ella es gran amiga de mystery y en general es un ser benevolente(siempre y cuando no la saquen de sus casillas). Ella posee varios poderes;transformacion, cambio de forma, invisibilidad, causar mala suerte,leer el futuro y leer la mente de los demas.

I decided to make a redesign to kuromori and kokkuri, to make them closer to Japanese mythology

Kuromori

Much of it remains the same, his weapon refers to ancient agriculture (they used that type of scythe to cut plants in ancient Japan) he refers to the onis (Japanese demons), he is still cold, calculating, serene and with the character of a samurai, so I wanted to give him an appearance more similar to that of samurai or ronins (samurais without an owner). His relationship with mystery is neutral, he does not forgive that he has abandoned them but reluctantly accepts his decision and is against the idea of ​​shiromori to use his blood since he knows that it could kill him, so he still cares about him and him. look like a father. His powers are: cryokinesis (control of ice), cytokinesis (control of plants), tracking, superhuman strength and regeneration.

Kokkuri-san

I wanted to give her a big change and make her more like her yo-kai counterpart, she is wise as a fox but also a trickster and a joker so you should not take her answers too seriously, she could be joking, protective and loyal as a dog and naughty as a raccoon. She is a great friend of mystery and in general she is a benevolent being (as long as they do not take her out of her boxes). She possesses various powers; transformation, shapeshifting, invisibility, causing bad luck, reading the future and reading the minds of others.

[macjaket]

Buddy, you love music, of course I'm asking. 1. your favorite song; 7. a song that makes you want to dance; 8. the best song from your favorite album; 11. a song that means a lot to you; 18. a song that gets stuck in your head and 39. a song you always sing along to (sorry if it's too much, you don't have to answer them all). Thank you :)

Yeah :D

Favourite song: cant chose 1. Right now the top are ‘manic pixie dream girl’ by addison grace (duh), ‘mawce’ by everyone’s worried about owen, ‘I/Me/Myself’ by will wood, ‘graduation’ and ‘pre-k’ by tre mutava, and ‘aerolites’ by paddy and the rats

Song that makes me wanna dance: I/Me/Myself by will wood and wow by savana lee (from julie and the phantoms)

Best song from fav album: from neotheather next up forever by ajr and from ok orchestra ok overture also by ajr

Song that means a lot to me: dont throw out my legos by ajr and everithing is fine by grumpy plum

Song that gets stuck in my head: history hates lovers by oublaire, amor con hielo by morat, perfume by lovejoy

Song i always sing along: cult of dyonisus by orion experience, again i go unnoticed by dashboard confesionals, wow and now or neverfrom jatp, good kid and try from the lightning thief musical, my calling by the cooties, ok overture by ajr, kia soul bu grumpy plum and so many more

[blanketorghost]

The Arcana characters as Cuarteto de Nos songs

Because I’ve been hooked by these two for way too long- don’t mind me as this is more for myself than anything

MC: Breve Descripción de Mi Persona

Don’t tell everything, my grandpa said And in his agony, he didn’t say where his will was And I can’t, even if I want to, have everything I wish That’s for being so sincere!

But I am not that complicated as to run away Nor stay here in silence But I’m not as simple as to not warn That there’s no 3 minutes Nor 100 words That could really define me

Asra: Enamorado Tuyo

And if it seems that I’m in love with you that is a lie, I assume, don’t listen to rumors Because rarely I call to say I love you and more than once I did it to the wrong number people rarely say I’m in love with you

I rarely despair when you’re not by my side and that doesn’t mean that it has a meaning If you think I feel love, please don’t panic Don’t tell anyone about this problem people rarely say I’m in love with you

Julian: Así Soy Yo

I don’t have a lot, I don’t have too little Since I don’t answer, I’m never wrong And since I have no goals I’ve never known what failure is

Happiness and sadness are all the same to me Since I don’t care about feeling Because in the angle of life, I’ve decided to be the bisector

Nadia: El Hijo de Hernández

I am what I am I don’t need identification i know where I come from and where I’m going because i am who i am and not who you want me to be

My personality won’t change Just because someone tells me how to act But I won’t allow anyone to boss me around I am not related to Hernández!

Portia: Cuando Sea Grande

I don’t want to keep so many secrets Nor being confronted with an ugly self-portrait Like the Montesque or the Capulet I don’t want, at your age, become obsolete

Nor losing my vigor, nor saying without rigor That all past times were better Nor come back home peeved and angry I don’t want to get to get tired of myself

And though truth may hurt i have to say it without remorse but if I offend anyone, I’m sorry When I grow up (I don’t want to be like you)

Muriel: De Hielo

Many late nights have frozen me solid I’m but an iceberg Yet this love is warming me up this love is warming me up

And my eyes that had no shine That only reflected what I saw Now they let through the burning soul That those other eyes set aflame

Lucio: Todos Pasan por Mi Rancho

Everyone passes by my house But nobody stops to visit Fear always creeps over them And no matter what I do, I never get them to stay

And far and wide from this odd story I’ve never been able to explain myself What mystery wakes

Everyone reaches my door But nobody wants to enter

Some extras with character dynamics bc why not:

Nadia/Lucio: No te invité a mi cumpleaños

Portia/Julian: Roberto

Asra/Lucio: Buen día Benito