#like your odds go up if you get lots of unlucky pulls in a row

[tumblunni]

.

Man i was just thinking again about that idea i had for a cliche gijinka app card game where the gijinkas are all Interesting Bugs instead of weird sexy anime george washington.

I've kinda got quite attatched to my idea for a leech gijinka as a super cuddly white mage who just happens to look emo and scary. And they'd be a great opportunity for nonbinary representation cos in real life leeches don't have binary sexes anyway. But i cant decide between whether i want them to look like a full plague doctor mask thing or a more cliche cutesy nurse but theyre like super tall and look like the monster girl from the ring so they get sad that people always run away before they can help them! So then i was thinking "hey, alternate skins!" Not like in the other games ive played where there's always one canon skin and all the others require hours of grinding and/or real money to buy. But just that there's like three or so randomized versions of the base character with all the same stats but a different costume. Just to spice up the pool of options a bit! Or maybe it could even be more than just the costume and you can get entirely different reinterpretations of that job class? Like the medusa jellyfish could be either a young kid or a grandpa!

Oh and i'm not really sure how to name this or anything? Cos its not really a clear category of animals, its not all insects or all worms or whatever. More like just..all the animals that are unfairly hated but have Cool Biology Facts that i can babble at u to maybe make u like them more. So i dunno.. Pests? Creepy crawlies? Some entirely made up fantasy term for them?

Also i think the setting will definately be jrpg fantasy! Just a world where all these critters are actually funky people on a comedically bad D&D quest. I wonder who the villains could be tho? Maybe theyre gijinkas of more commonly loved cute animals? Or like.. Not gijinkas but monsterfied versions? Hilariously over the top evil fluffums! hamsters are this setting's dragons! And i dunno maybe the ultimate dark lord is a dog with a cat for a royal vizier or something, cos theyre the kings of popularity.

This could also make it actually make sense why the Clione character could be a beserker like in real life! Cos theyre the most un-hated rare sea slug for looking cute, but their actual personality is big scary predator. But in this universe being seen as cute by humans = evil, so the Clione's fighty doom personality would make perfect sense! Im not sure if i should make them like a tormented Shadow esque antihero or a paladin-looking knight who has a dark streak or maybe even a viking? Cos in videogames theyre like the epitome of 'loves fighting but is still a nice hugs guy'. And it'd be neat to have a chubby buff clione instead of the more cliche bishie gijinka. But then i mean theyre literally nicknamed 'sea angels' or 'sea fairies' depending on country so yeah? Oh or maybe that could mean i make them an elf or an angel but theyre still mega buff! Viking guy with lil chibi wings and halo!

Also randomly i think that Slug will be the other nonbinary character along with Leech. Cos well there's a lot of bugs who dont fit the human gender binary but i'd probably be a bit too obnoxious if i had like 90% enbies and noone else. I always think about like 'if this is my first game project i need to go at a small and reasonable pace with all the Big LGBT Feels', yknow? But then every idea i do is always my first game project cos ive never completed any of them yet XD

Anyway i think Slug would be a more fashionable bishie kind of androgenous character, while Leech is a relateable cuddly socially awkward one who wears a mask. But definately also looks stylish in their own way, and i'm sure Slug is always complimenting them and trying to bolster their spirits! Aside from being super fashionable i also think maybe Slug would be a wandering bard? Cos somehow slow animal -> lazy human -> free spirited instead to be less cliche -> bard. Also the whole 'bard rolls to seduce every boss' meme, lol! So Slug is a very nyeheheh tricksy flirty adventuring song person who aint take nobody's shit. Instead of being sleepy they sleep on the concept of low self confidence! Full and powerful pride at all times!!! Goal in life is to be beautiful AF and handsome AF and make everyone swoon at your feet and also recite an epic poetry so cool that your enemies straight up die from the sick burn. Tho i mean i don't think anyone could actually ACHIEVE that, lol! It might be obnoxious if i actually have a character who's basically 'enby people are literally perfect in all ways'. So i just think Slug is a big ol dork who's like the Gaston archetype of the comically overconfident flirt, but like a good and heroic version who actually respects when people say no to their advances. And is also a great BFF to Leech and tries to help them get out of their shell, because well of course Slug is out of theirs XD

Also actually i dunno whether they should all just be named after the animal or have thier own names but the animal is mentioned on their profile as a job class name or something? Cos it might get awkward once we get to more specific obscure bugs with longer names or ones who only really have a scientific genus name. I'd feel like i'd have to make them all wizards cos their names sound like spells! Oh MAYBE THEYRE SPELLS!! Like each character could chant their own scientific name when they use their ultimate attack??

Oh and maybe Slug and Leech could be just based on the species in general but have their alternate costumes themed after more specific rare subspecies? Like Slug could have nudibranch themed costumes cos the vibrant colours would fit such an elegant fashioniste~ And leech could just be an opportunity to talk about how there's subspecies of leech that dont drink blood, though this character is based on the ones that do because otherwise they wouldnt really have a unique job class, lol. Maybe their rarest alt costume is a fashionable orange ensemble that symbolizes both Slug taking them out for a night on the town in their finest to feel more comfortabke in their self confidence, and also just the fact there's an orange tropical leech. Its kinda funny cos there isnt such a huge range of different colours for leeches, its mostly just different barely visible patterns and a spectrum from greenish brown to brownish black, lol. And then suddenly a bunch of wildly different red and orange ones! And nothing in between! Really does seem like a surprise makeover from your bestie, yknow?

Oh and then when i was thinking about other potential relationships between different magic bug people, i thought of Daddy Longlegs! Cos thats a name confusingly given to multiple bugs of wildly different species who're all mistaken for spiders when they really arent. And this mythical nonexistant daddy longlegs spider also has the myth of having 'the strongest poison but its fangs are too short to bite you' which is COMPLETE nonsense based on nothibg cos how would it even survive in the wild if it cant hunt? But its a real cool myth so it could be an awesome excuse to make them have a move that gambles on either an instant kill or a self debuff. ALSO THEY ARE MARRIED

I was thinking they could be a duo of fabulous zorro-looking assassin dudes who were sent to assassinate each other but instead fell in love and quit the business for good. Like 'you made me want to live again, and the only reason i threw my life away on this job was cos i wanted to die'. And to atone for all the bad mercenary stuff theyd done in the past, now theyre robin hood esque mercenaries who take jobs with world-saving hero groups like our protagonists. And they work for free as long as the cause is just! And they wish they could settle down someday and dream about having children of their own, but they feel like they dont deserve it after all that theyve done. They'd be a rare goofy bugmans that actually have a real emotional backstory! So anyway they're fancy fencing guys who're both the same class but maybe slightly different variants with different stat builds or abilities? More specialized and all. Like maybe one is speedy but weaker and one is slower but stronger? Or one relies more on luck based attacks and one is a consistant damage dealer but has a lower max damage cap? Or even one is status effects and one is attack and really even though they have the same job name theyre wildly different interpretations of it. Fitting for the entomology mistake husbands! I want them to be balanced so that they have special bonuses together but are still viable to use separately if your party setup only requires one of them. Also randomly i think their names would be Albedo and Rubedo? I was originally gonna make Rubedo the name of the leech cos i mean alchemy words and plague masks and all. But then it doesnt really SOUND like an alchemy word, it sounds like a fancy handsome dancer name. And then i started thinking about the cute once-sad-now-happy young assassin dads fighting together so well that it looks like one big dance between them, rather than a battle. And i got REAL EMOTIONAL over goddamn bug gijinkas! Man my heart is made of paper and mush!! Oh and maybe they have combo attacks together but also with all of the party members that are younger? Like special dad instinct combo! A built in ability that they automatically shield the kids from enemy attacks. YOU HIRED A MERCENARY BUT YOU RECEIVED A NICE MARRIED COUPLE WHO PROMPTLY ADOPT YOU. Oh and maybe their alternate costumes could just be each other's costumes? Like they'd already be wearing matching red and white versions of the same thing, but then albino dad wears ginger dad's version and vice versa. Or maybe their alt costumes are different complimentary colour pairs like black and gold or blue and pink? And maybe their ultra rare special costume is Big Cute Dorky Argyle Dad Sweaters! It must be capitalized cos it is IMPORTANT!

Oh and then i was also thinking about the idea i had before of bugs with a queen hive structure being like the workers are the common unit and the breeders and queens and such are rarer variants? But the workers are the only ones actually good in a fight, the others are just for collectables sake. Rare but useless, just like how the real queen bee is so big that she cant leave the hive, and never figjts a day in her life unless the kingdom has already fallen. So maybe queen bee is still unlockable as a rare character but she's just a support that makes worker bee stronger? Like you get a lil event of worker's boss coming to honor her with a knighthood for her good service, allowing her to upgrade her job class. Tho i think she still fights with construction work equipment, now its just like a golden jewelled shovel XD

[friendlyneighborhoodsecretary]

3. Prompt: Gardening

By his third day of hiding out at the lakehouse post-Beck, Peter had run out of distractions. Going anywhere near his phone or the TV was out of the question. He couldn't concentrate well enough to do any of the suit tinkering or web fluid adjustments he would usually have fallen back on. He'd already made the rounds of the house, fixing the little leaks and squeaks and anything else he could mindlessly turn a wrench to (not that there were many in a Stark-built home). And there were only so many times a person could take a stroll around the same lake and skip the same stones and swing their legs off the same dock before they went thoroughly and irreversibly insane. He was all but vibrating with restless nerves. And being cooped up out here, where the silence of the woods pressed in on him like dungeon walls and the empty hours yawned ahead of him like a life sentence, wasn’t making it any easier.

By the time Pepper found him after lunch on the third day, he was dangling upside down from the eaves, absently shifting from foot to foot and counting the seconds to see how long it took before he fell. It was possible, Peter realized as he dropped sheepishly back down to the floorboards—just possible—that he might have already slipped over the edge.

“Trust me—I’ve seen worse.” Pepper hadn’t even batted an eye as she brushed off his sputtered explanations. She’d just gathered up the sunhats and the neat bundle of work gloves from the shelf by the door and towed him through the back door with the practiced efficiency of someone who was used to managing chaos before it tipped over into calamity. "Come with me.”

He trailed her reluctantly around the side of the house to the neat rows of raised beds that housed Pepper's garden. Carefully-staked tomato plants here, the scraggly foliage of carrot tops there, lines of squat goji bushes in one bed and the small round buds of new lettuces in another—there were a few things he could identify, but many more that were just...green. Green and vibrant and robust, leaves gently rustling in the hot July breeze and produce of varying sizes and shapes ripening in the sun. He was pulled from his inspection by Pepper pushing a pair of the gardening gloves into his hands and dropping a broad-brimmed sunhat over his eyes (“Yes, I know you’re superhuman, but I don’t think skin cancer discriminates like that”). There was a brief summary of which greens were intentional and which were intrusive, a deft demonstration of proper weed-yanking technique, and then Peter was shepherded to a row of carrots for practice. Pepper settled in amongst an adjacent patch of lettuce and left him to the job. For a moment, he just sat there, the grass prickling against his knees and the sweat beginning to bead up under the heavy gloves as he brooded. Gardening. What was he doing puttering around in the Starks’ backyard, gardening, while his actual life imploded out there in the real world? At least Pepper had earned the break—he caught snatches of her phone calls to the legal team, to the publicists, to all the people who were actually doing something about the mess he was in, and the reality that he wasn’t one of them stung every time.

Peter stared out over the sea of bobbing leaves and sighed. Still, if it wasn’t gardening, what else would it be? More waiting and wondering and wearing new tennis shoe trails in the track around the lake? One was about as productive as the other. Peter squared his shoulders and bent to the task in front of him. If he was going to lose his mind out in the wilderness, he might as well be helpful while he was doing it.

As it turned out after half of an hour’s worth of work, there was something weirdly soothing about kneeling in the dirt and burying yourself in the process of pinpointing what stayed and what went. In the careful concentration it took to yank up a stubborn weed without uprooting anything good that happened to be growing near it. In the calming repetition of pinching off a dead leaf here or a damaged stalk there. There were ladybugs crawling lazily along the stems, occasionally bumping against Peter’s fingertips a few times before they grudgingly redirected around him, and a few birds hopping cautiously along the rim of the beds, mining for unlucky creepy crawlies. It was a steady rhythm of activity—just enough of it to keep Peter’s mind from straying too far beyond the next bunch of nettles to dig out—with a refreshingly comfortable lack of pressure or tension.

Pepper didn't say much, but the silent companionship was…nice. In a way, it was soothing, too. Or, at the very least, a relief from May's fretting and Happy's hovering—not that there was anything wrong with either of those, per se, but when it was all you had day in and day out, it began to smother you alive. The summer sun beat down on his back, the breeze swept lazily across his brow, and for a while, time ceased to exist. There was nothing but the black earth under his hands and the scent of topsoil in his lungs and the steady cycle of the job.

"I started planting things a few months after we moved out here," Pepper said quietly, a solid hour into their work. "Not much at first—just enough to give us a reason to be out in the light rather than holing up inside."

"Us? Mr. Stark helped?" It was an odd image—Peter had always had trouble imagining Tony out in the country at all, let alone elbow-deep in a tangle of zucchini plants or hauling buckets of fertilizer. But then, most of life these days was odd—Tony was recovering from saving the literal universe with a snap of his fingers, Pepper was flicking aphids off of her tomato plants, and Peter felt increasingly more like he was just along for the ride.

Pepper’s mouth twisted in a wry grimace.

"I'm not sure 'help' is the right word given how some of those first few plants fared, but yes, he did pitch in. Under duress, sometimes, but it grew on him.” Peter let out an obligatory snort at the pun, and Pepper forged on, the faint smirk on her lips the only indication that she’d meant it as one. “I saw a quote once—a very, very cheesy Pinterest sort of thing—about planting a garden being an act of belief in having a tomorrow. And back then, right after the Blip, we needed any hope for tomorrow we could find. Or cultivate, as the case may be.”

“It was a good way to refocus. To step back and take a break from trying to put the world back together.” Pepper shot him a pointed look over the carrot tops, and Peter pointedly ignored it. “It was a good distraction, too. I think Tony spent at least five or six hours a day out here during the weeks before Morgan was born, when all we could do was wait for something to happen.”

Peter paused in chucking a handful of weedy foliage at the compost-bound pile that had sprung up between them. The relentless urge to find something, anything helpful to do had eased a little, but it was far from gone. He pursed his lips as he finally turned back to uproot another fistful.

"I just—I wish there was something I could do besides waiting out here. I mean, everything that’s happening is all my fault, but you're the one who's having to fix it and I know it has to be costing you an awful lot and—"

Pepper tipped her sunhat back to level him with a long, hard look that reminded him forcefully of May when she was gently, but firmly pointing out the obvious facts of life, such as "the homework won't do itself" or "the laundry will not make its way from the dryer to your room by magic" or “that Red Bull won’t give you actual wings, so you’d better not expect gravity to give you preferential treatment.”

"Peter. There isn't a single person in this house who wouldn't spend their last dime on making sure you get through this okay. And believe me when I say that we've got a long, long way to go before we even need to start worrying about burning through Stark Industries' supply of dimes."

Peter opened his mouth, a dozen arguments about his opinion of throwing other people’s money at his problems, about sitting on the sidelines while everyone else did the work, about running from the consequences of his own blunders all welling up on the tip of his tongue.  Pepper cut them off.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you in a few weeks, when things have settled a little more and there are fewer people agitating to have you arrested. When that happens, we’ll all work on fixing this together. Until then…try to take advantage of the rest.” Her voice softened. “I know it isn’t easy, Peter. But you’re wrong about it being your fault—and it certainly isn’t your sole responsibility to fix. You’ve got a lot of people on your team.” She coaxed the last tendrils of unwanted clover from her last row and rocked back on her heels. “And a whole lot of tomorrow to believe in. Even if it isn’t exactly what you were envisioning it would be a few weeks ago.”

"Thanks,” Peter murmured. It would’ve sounded trite from anyone else, but from Pepper—Pepper, whose practicality rivaled May’s and whose honesty could rival Happy’s (just in a more polished, less aggressively blunt way)—he could almost believe it. “Not just for this, but you know—for everything."

"Any time, kid.” Pepper shucked her gloves and brushed the dirt from her knees as she stood. She left him to it with a squeeze of his shoulder and an unshakably reassuring smile that Peter would hold onto for a long time to come. He stayed out in the green until the breeze blowing in off the lake had turned cool, and the twilight had started creeping in among the shadows of the pines. There was still a knot of unease in his chest when he finally meandered inside, but it was…smaller. More manageable. The driving restlessness of that morning had been driven out by the bone-deep exhaustion of a long afternoon in the heat and the distinctive tingle of a rising sunburn. It took a solid ten minutes to scrub the grit from his palms and the dirt from under his fingernails, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he didn't feel like he'd completely wasted his day. He stumbled through a hazy shower and an even hazier dinner before he fell into bed. And for the first time since he'd arrived, sleep came without a fight. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was too tired to dread it. And while he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe in tomorrow…he didn’t dread the idea of meeting it, either.

[itslucyluna]

Fan Fic Tag Game 2020

Thank you @ailec-12 for tagging me! 

Ao3 Name: Lucy_Luna

Fandoms: I was active in the HP, Spider-Verse, and ATLA/LoK fandoms this year.

1. Fic that was the hardest to write/you spent the most time on: The fic I’ve spent the most time on is Long Way From Home, the eighth story in my Severus has a little sister AU series. It’s not really been difficult to write per se, just time-consuming. There’s just been so much I’ve had to write to tell the story.

2. Fic you spent the least time on/easiest to write: I think it’s no surprise the stories I’ve spent the least time on this year are the one-shots I’ve written. Like My Ancestors Behind Me, Names, The Sky is Wrecked and Full of Rotting Clouds. However, I would say my easiest to write has been To Make The Bridge. Once @ailec-12 gave me the idea for it, the story just really came together in no time. It’s essentially all written except for an epilogue I’m still deciding on.

3. Longest fic: The longest fic I have worked on this year is They Didn’t Know We Were Seeds. I haven’t really written a lot for it this year though. I would say the longest story I’ve put the most work into this year is Long Way From Home.

4. Shortest fic: My Ancestors Behind Me. It’s 836 words.

5. Fic you were nervous to post: I really don’t get nervous before posting. However, I think the story I felt most uncertain about before posting was The Prince's Return. I wasn’t sure what kind of audience there would be for it. However, now that I’ve posted, there does seem to be a small amount of intrigued readers, so I’m happy!

6. How do you choose your titles: I really don’t have a set way of doing it. Like, I guess I just try to find something that sort of tells what the story is about. For example, with my Spider-Verse stuff, there’s one story called An Unexpected Visitor. Surprise surprise, during the story someone unexpected visits. Lots of the stories written in that fandom have uncreative titles like that.

7. Fave fic you read: I think I’ll pick a one-shot and a multi-chapter. I discovered and really enjoyed pretend you don't have one by TheTartWitch. It’s an AU nonlinear one-shot about Severus Snape from the start of his time at Hogwarts until I wanna say shortly before Harry becomes a student. My favorite multi-chapter is Salvage by MuffinLace. It’s an atla AU where Zuko ends up on Hakoda’s ship and ends up basically being adopted by him. I absolutely loved and am loving seeing Zuko become his kid and a part of the crew.

8. Fave fic you wrote: That’s hard. I don’t think I could say I have an all-time fav. I liked writing everything, but To Make The Bridge was especially enjoyable. It’s been a really relaxing story to put together actually.

9. Fave comment: This one from @ailec-12:

“AHHH, the feelings of this chapter! Finally, Sirius realises that Severus's odd behaviour is a consequence of the abuse he suffers (suffered) at home. I like that we have the same headcanons regarding how Sirius reacted when arguing with his parents. I think it fits him a lot that he felt better for "earning" his punishments without giving up on doing something to fight them.

Snape had never taken anything from him or James or anyone else lying down. Why would he do the same with his parents? What made them so different? Just because they were supposedly authority figures he let them belittle and hurt him for no good reason? That didn't sound right. Sometimes, even with the professors, Severus would row with them over detentions and lost points.

Ohhh, but this quote. I, too, think that the reason why Severus never backed down from a fight at Hogwarts is to regain some control. Whether it was fighting the Marauders even outnumbered or confronting professors, he was convincing himself he was not a coward, he could start some fights and win them. As always, this is my headcanon, since we hardly have any information about day-to-day affairs in the Marauders' Era. It's so fun to try and guess, though! Especially when you see some of your guesses reflected in a fic.

Also, Sirius realising that he's behaved somewhat similarly to his own parents with Severus and, right away, feeling crushed by guilt is everything I needed to read today. His apology is another big step to improve their relationship further. I love reading character development and I wonder how sixteen-year-old Severus would react to it —whether he would still be willing to accept that apology or would firmly believe it's all a trap.

The scene with the chocolate frog card was adorable and just the cherry on top Sirius's apology needed. It also reminded me I'd sorta forgotten about them in my fic, hahaha. I'll have to introduce them as a tribute to your story!

He'd have to find a way to make the friendship he made with this boy-Snape stick and pull him over to the right side of things when they were the same age.

Yesssss. Now, I can't stop picturing the Marauders (plus Lily) introducing Severus to Remus's parents. So freaking adorable.

And that cliffhanger after all the wonderful feelings!!! I can't wait to keep reading!”

Without it, To Make The Bridge would not exist. And as I said before, it’s been a lot of fun writing it. So this is my fav comment this year :)

10. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I won’t, but I guess if there’s any story I’d rewrite ever it’s They Didn’t Know We Were Seeds. It’s a hundred chapters. I think I could definitely go back and combine a lot of chapters and practically halve the length as well as just improve what’s there to be more fleshed out. As for what I could definitely expand on, it’d be my Severus has a little sister AU series. I already have plans for a story after Long Way From Home, but that story has already got me thinking about even more stories for the series. 

11. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: Ah so many choices. I’ve been writing a little bit here and there for all of my WIPs lately. Here’s a little something from what will be the second chapter of The Prince's Return:

“I can’t say I know what happens after this for you, but it seems to me whatever negotiations Jinora and Tenzin have with the spirit world on your behalf will end well and everything will be put right again,” he concluded, smiling in reassurance at the nonplussed boy.

Zuko stepped back and out of his grip. “Nothing ever goes that smoothly for me,” he declared like a threat — or, maybe, a warning.

Iroh showed his palms to the boy. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he said. His grandfather had never seemed that unlucky to him. In fact, Iroh had thought he was always very lucky. Against all odds, he’d changed the world for the better.

12. What was your goal for your fics this year? Did you meet it?: I didn’t have any hard goals really. I wanted to finish a few things, which I did. However, I also started a few things, so, I’m not really writing less. Which is actually okay. That was also something I hoped I would do this year. Write more than I didn’t. 

13. What is your goal for your fics next year?: Finish Long Way From Home, To Make The Bridge, and The Prince's Return.

14. Highlight of your fandom year: The new season of The Umbrella Academy? That was fun and I liked checking out the new fanfics that came out after it too. Also, The Haunting of Bly Manor was fun to binge around Halloween.

15. Highlight of your personal year: I finished a couple of traditionally published books, as well as a cross-stitch and am halfway done with another.

[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace, chapter 4

A manorian high school AU

Words: 1826

AO3 Link: Click here

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn't let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

There is love in your body but you can’t get it out

It gets stuck in your head won’t come out of your mouth

-Florence + The Machine, Hardest of Hearts

Asterin looked pissed. She and Manon were currently sitting on the floor at the dance studio, stretching after the long practice they’d just had.

«All I’m saying is that you’re not focused enough,» Manon continued. She had asked Asterin to stay behind with her so they could talk. Dance practice was about the only place she saw her cousin now, and even then, her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

While rolling her eyes, Asterin replied: «I just have a lot on my mind right now, besides, we’re doing good.» She shrugged, before moving on to her other leg.

Manon didn’t buy that whole a lot on my mind thing, so she pushed further. «Like hell you have a lot on your mind. I bet it’s that boyfriend of yours keeping you so distracted, you seem to spend all your time with him.»

«So what if I spend my time with him, he makes me happy,» Asterin scoffed as she finished stretching, now standing up to leave.

Oh, they weren’t done yet…

«I don’t care how happy he makes you when you can barely keep up with the rest of the team. Iskra-,»

«Relax a little, nationals are months away,» Asterin interrupted, turning around to face her cousin once more.

Manon hated to argue with her, but someone needed to make sure everyone on the team stayed focused, stayed in shape. «Nationals being months away isn’t an excuse to slack off. You know I can replace you at any time if you don’t keep up with the rest.»

Always the hard, disciplined leader.

Asterin almost looked hurt at her words. Manon kept her features cool and emotionless. She didn’t care about Asterin’s feelings. If she got kicked of the team, it was her own fault.

«There’s nothing I want more than to beat Iskra Yellowlegs like the bug she is, but you don’t have to be such a bitch about it. Go a little easier on the team, we have never been as good as we are now.»

Manon didn’t bother responding as Asterin walked out, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed through the almost empty room.

They might be better than ever, Manon thought, but better than ever still wasn’t good enough in her grandmothers eyes.

-

Dorian usually enjoyed English class, but the teacher had been rambling about the importance of using formal language and how «kids nowadays talked to their peers». So instead of paying attention to what Mr. Norton was saying, Dorian continued reading the book Aelin had practically forced on him earlier. He had to admit, it was a good book. Especially the main character’s love interest.

Thinking about that sent a rush of sadness through him. Dorian knew Aelin loved that character as well. In fact, she hadn’t been able to shut up about him for the past few weeks. There was nothing Dorian wanted more than to geek out over their joint crush, but that would also mean telling Aelin that he liked both girls and boys.

He still hadn’t told them, still hadn’t found the courage. Dorian wasn’t sure what was holding him back…

The other reason to why he wasn’t paying attention in class was sitting two rows ahead of him. Dorian found his eyes wandering to the head full of white hair more times than he liked to admit.

It had been a week since he stumbled upon her having a panic attack in the library. Dorian had wanted to talk to her after, but she was hard to catch. He never saw her in the hallway, never saw her near the football field, never in the cafeteria, a few days ago he’d even checked the spot he’d last seen her, but it was as empty as always. The only time he actually saw Manon was in English class, but she was the last to enter and the first to leave, meaning it was impossible to go over to her desk and start a conversation while waiting for their teacher. Dorian had met her eyes, once, but she had looked at him like nothing happened, like she didn’t know him, before quickly looking elsewhere.

«-which will mean a lot for your grades.» Dorian only caught the tail of that sentence, but he shifted his attention to the board. Apparently Mr. Norton had stopped talking about formal language and instead moved on to presenting some assignment.

«For this project, you will be paired up two and two. You are to pick a book of your choosing, read it, and then make a podcast where you discuss it. I have put the deadline in two and a half weeks, it’s on a Friday.»

This made Dorian feel very exited. He hoped he would be paired with someone who’d let him choose the book. He already had a few in mind…

«These are the pairs,» their teacher said, pulling a document up on the board. Dorian searched the list until he found himself. He felt a surge of excitement as he saw who he was paired with. Right at the bottom, was his name, next to Manon’s.

This was gonna be a good couple of weeks.

This day could not get any worse, Manon though, looking at the board.

First, she had been woken up way too early by Abraxos yowling at her window. Good thing her grandmother was currently out of town. The lack of sleep had put her in a fairly pissy mood. A mood which had been made worse by fighting with Asterin after dance practice. Then she had been unlucky enough to be paired up with Dorian fucking Havilliard for a project counting 50% on their semester grade.

She had to find some way to get out of it. She could tell Mr.Norton she didn’t have time to meet up with Dorian. That she would read a book on her own and make an analysis. Or just ask to switch partners. Anything, to not do it with him of all people.

What are the odds - in a class with 30 students - of being paired up with the boy who happened to walk in on you having a panic attack a week ago?

Manon had zoned out in a train of thought, which were interrupted by their teacher speaking once again. «You can have the rest of this lesson to discuss how you want to go through with it,» Mr. Norton announced, sitting down behind his desk.

Fuck, now Dorian was coming towards her. She tried to look as bored as possible as he leaned against the edge of the table in front of her, hands in his pockets. He ran a hand through his curly, black hair, before asking:

«Were you okay the other day? I’ve been meaning to ask you, but…» He simply gestured at her, instead of finishing the sentence. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Manon tried to keep her features calm, cold. «What are you talking about? I’m fine. Besides, it’s none of your business.»

Dorian raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, so Manon answered with a glare. That seemed to make him give up his interrogation, she thought as his expression faltered.

«Okay, so we should probably discuss what book to read,» Dorian said reluctantly, not ready to let go of the previous subject just yet.

«Yeah, no, that’s not gonna work,» Manon replied, her voice bored.

«And why is that?» The boy in front of her was smirking now. She wanted to punch him in the face.

Manon rolled her eyes. «Because I have a very tight schedule. We can just do it separately and then mix up our notes as we hand it in.»

As soon as the words had left her mouth, the bell rang, students all around them moving to get out. Thank god! Manon was about to get up and leave herself, but Dorian stopped her. He ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook before scribbling down something and handing it to Manon.

«Here’s my number. Why don’t you text me when you’ve found an available spot in your very tight schedule.» After putting an emphasis on very tight he had the audacity to wink at her, before walking out of the classroom.

And Manon just stood there, baffled by the whole exchange, with a sudden need to scream.

-

When Manon was lying in bed that night, she still couldn’t get her mind off the stupid project. She most definitely couldn’t work with Dorian, she decided.

So why do you still have his number?

She cursed the voice inside herself. He meant trouble, and there had to be some way she could do it alone. She would talk to Mr. Norton tomorrow and figure it out. She didn’t need to think about it tonight.

Manon tried to close her eyes and go to sleep, but all she could see was Dorian, winking at her as he walked away. Text me, she could hear his voice echo in her mind.

Then there was the other thing bothering her. She still hadn’t spoken with Asterin after their fight. She had hoped they could declare peace over dinner today, but she hadn’t come home after school. It was now midnight, and still no sight of her cousin. She was probably at Hunter’s.

Asterin being away meant the whole house was quiet. Their grandmother was away on some business trip and wouldn’t be back for another few days. Manon normally enjoyed the calm quiet of the night, but right now she couldn’t relax. Something was on her mind.

You have that something’s number, that voice said again.

«Fuck it!» Manon annoyingly exclaimed as she abruptly sat up, rousing Abraxos - who was lying next to her - from his peaceful sleep in the process.

Ignoring the clearly offended cat, she reached for her nightstand, where her phone and the note she had tossed beside it laid. She opened her messages and typed in Dorian’s number. She didn’t bother saving it. Then she angrily typed in a message before sending it and tossing her phone back on the nightstand. She didn’t wait to see if he answered.

The message only said: Saturday, 3pm, the library.

Manon hadn’t even bothered signing it. He would have to figure out who it was from on his own.

«Don’t look at me like that,» she said to Abraxos as she laid back down. The cat only purred before snuggling close.

Rolling her eyes at him, she tried to be annoyed, but Manon had to admit she didn’t mind the warmth. The cat purred even louder, apparently agreeing.

As she closed her eyes once more, she tried very hard not to think about Saturday and the boy she had just texted.

A/N: And so it begins...

Sorry for not updating sooner, but school is being a bitch, and will continue being a bitch for the next week, so I have no idea when chapter 5 will be posted.

But, I can reveal that the next chapter will be all about Dorian<3

I am also sorry for the GIF I used this time, I couldn’t stop myself.

Also this fic turned out wayyyy fluffier than I imagined, but I don't mind. We'll blame Abraxos for being too cute...

Thank you so much to everyone who reads and likes and comments and reblogs and leaves kudos...I LOVE YOU!!

Peace&Love -Dawninlatin

[katsukikitten]

Disinterested 2

A/N sorry this turned into a three parter I think. Please let me know if this is too slow of development 😅😭

"Are you going to the hero conference next week? Its somewhere tropical in America where All Might is from." Eji turns to ask the ash blonde who has been some how moodier these past few years.

"I'd rather Deku kiss me." He growls earning a big laugh from Kirishima whose breath huffs visibly in the air.

The smell of possible snow hanging heavy over the pathway to the crowded restuarant that Katsuki was being dragged to by his supposed best friend.

Scarlet eyes linger on your form as you clutch to Todoroki squealing about the biting cold, heterochromatic eyes stare down at you without a single fucking clue.

Katsuki's lips snarl, explosions threatening to detonate. Icy hot should know by now that you hate the cold and all that dumbass walking heater has to do is either shed his jacket and drape it across your delicate yet powerful shoulders or move you to his left side and let some of his quirk go.

But he doesn't, even after years of off again on again dating he just stares and your whining stops quickly, blush spreading across your cheeks almost embarrassed, feelings probably hurt, as Katsuki grits his teeth.

Fucking idot.

"No but seriously." Kirishima wipes tears from his eyes, "Mina has been asking if you're going. She misses the Bakusqaud. Plus isn't the tied number one hero SUPPOSED to go?"

Blood eyes flash to his ruby haired friend.

"We disbanded. They just wanna see me and hear Deku speak." All bite as Kiri guesses where his explosive friend was staring, his eyes widen.

She was the last member thanks to Aizawa partnering the five of you together. Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, and Y/N.

"Yea but you hated her guts." Kiri states.

More like rearranged her guts.

"She wasn't part of the famed four."Eiji says nonchalantly and acts like he doesn't notice Katsuki bristle as the red head begins to put the pieces together.

Maybe there *was* a reason Bakugou had been so busy for those past few years.

Maybe it was training of another kind. Eiji smiles to himself before adding.

"Come on man!" He whines, "It'll be fun and loads of people will be there. Which means plenty of hot ass and plenty of FREE drinks at the after party."

He wiggles his eyebrows at the last part earning a horrifying glare for Bakugou.

"Plus I don't think Todoroki will be going which most likely means his dime piece, Y/N will not be attending either. Despite her high ranking." Kirishima's eyes grow big and pathetic looking as he adds, "So pleeeeeaaasssseee."

"Fine. But only so you will shut the fuck up about it!" Scarlet eyes find your familar frame before a final tsk is scoffed.

"I probably went easier on your than your PR agent." Kiri slaps the back of Katsuki playfully earning another glare.

"Let's get this stupid reunion over with." Katsu hisses as he pulls the golden doorknob, almost ripping the door from the hinges. As he makes his way to the table holding all of class 1A, realization washes over Katuski. One thing rings in his head as he glares at the table before him.

Kamisama does not favor Bakugou Katsuki and has not for quite sometime.

Kamisama has taken away his right as number one hero and has him tied to Deku of all fucking people.

Kamisama has thrust upon him the burden of All Might's end to forever carry on his shoulders.

What feels like worst of all, Kamisama brought you into his life to live at the fringes, never allowing him to be the center of your world.

Not even when you were the center of his.

He growls now as fate has set the two of you next to one another. The only seat open was at the end, next to you who sits in your much too tight dress that shows way too much of your sunkissed chest.

He catches you blush when he eases himself into his seat with a small growl. Knowing he cannot make it obvious by asking Kirishima to switch as he is sitting across from Katsuki but beside his fiance, Mina.

"Shoto!" You exclaim in your cutest voice, "What are you going to get?"

A deep sigh comes from your left that has your cheeks heated. A sigh that reminds Katsuki too much of a man who is disinterested in his woman.

"What I normally get, Y/L/N." His voice dancing along edges of disdain.

Katsuki can hear your heart fracture but before he can ask you what you're having Mina pipes up.

"I'm having the spicy katsu what about you, Y/N?"

You smile brightly, trying so hard to hide your hurt as you answer. All the while Katsuki holds back his temper, destroying several pairs of chop sticks through out the night.

"So how long is the pro hero trip? I know the beginning date." You ask Kiri, cheeks flushed with several shots.

"Oh it ends on 26th." He adds pouring you another. Katsuki gives Kiri a look that goes unnoticed by Eijis inebriated state.

"Oh that's good! Where the event is being held is on the beach I think and you'll get front row seats to a commit!!" There is so much joy in your face that it makes Katsuki's heart swell on it's own, even Mina and Kirishima swoon but Todoroki sighs causing you to back track. Something Katsuki only ever sees you do with *him*.

"Ah but it's stupid. We might be able to see it in Japan in another fifty years." You stare into your shot wondering when you started to feel this way.

When you started to feel so sad and so unsure when the old you would have told Todoroki to shut the fuck up that the commit was cool.

A once in a life time fucking chance.

But you didn't so you swallow your shot and silently beg Kiri for more with a shake of you 3 oz glass.

"Fucking shame." Katsuki growls, eyes falling to you, furthering your embarrassment instead of easing you.

He elbows you, holding your eyes but only for a second before Todoroki grips onto the crook of your arm as he whispers so low that Bakugou barely hears it over his own grinding teeth.

"That's enough kitten let's go." He growls before his volume goes to normal to add "Good night all. We're heading out."

This time Katsuki breaks the glass in his hand to keep himself from standing up and punching Todoroki in his stupid ass face.

Blood eyes latch onto yours as he watches you go, your sad face looking over your shoulder one final time.

****************

Katsuki adjusts the straps to his backpack as he waits on the tarmac of the small commercial plane intended for all of the hero's of Japan that plan to go.

He stares down at his ticket and sighs.

"Wow so even the number one hero has to share a plane huh?" Mina says by way of greeting.

"Yea don't fucking remind me." He growls. Kiri has nothing to offer but a sharp toothed smile.

"Kiri, Mina, wait up please." Your voice rings out causing Bakugou to grit his teeth as his pushes his way onto the plane.

Considering Kamisama has not been kind to him.

"Y/N!" Kiri smiles, "I didn't know you were coming."

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the plane, wondering how in the fuck this thing is going to cut through the sky.

It is not a bird, it does not have a flying quirk, why in the fuck would anyone want to board this thing.

You gulp. This was the exact reason you did not want to come. If you were falling thousands of feet in the air your quirk would be utterly useless.

"Yea." You swallow again, feeling your power shroud your shouldersout of habit when adrenaline ran through your body.

"Just yea?" Mina laughs, "You were dead set against going, you've never flown before."

"Well as number one female hero I have to go." You hiss, "Or so my agent says."

"Makes sense why mine booked me a double queen last minute." Mina states, "Guess we are gonna be roomies then!"

"It'll be so much like highschool. Except closer. Instead of my room being next to Bakugou's I get to share it."

You make a face, blushing from a flash back.

*"Katsu...they'll...they'll hear your headboard." You whine out as he mercilessly pounds into you.*

*"Good. Now let them hear how much pleasure I give you. Let them hear you scream kitten."*

"Your room was next door?" You almost squeak.

"Yea but he was hardly in it. He stayed with me a lot." Mina laughs, "Kiri go ahead and find your seat so I can help Y/N cope with finding seat C21."

"Okay!" Kiri calls out walking up the steps practically running into Katsuki.

"Oi." He is staring down at Eji darkly, "What's your seat number?"

Katsuki is hoping to sit with him, the thought of sitting with anyone else drives him fucking mad. Especially the thought of sharing it with Deku.

"Ah, G21. Oh I guess I sit next to Y/N She's scared to fly I think." He answers scratching the back of his head and Katsuki looks at his friend incredulously.

"Scared?" His expression changes, had you ever mentioned that in your year fling with him? Had he never noticed? Before he can stop himself he barks out

"We're switching seats."

"Oh ah are you sure?" Kirishima gives the ash blonde an odd look, "I thought..."

"Anyone is better than the chance of it being Deku." A half truth as he turns on his heel to find the fateful window seat.

Your face becomes crest fallen when you spot Katsuki in the seat next to yours. Looking out the window, brooding over God knows what.

Why? Why was he being shoved into your life over and over again.

It was hard enough to get him out of your head, especially these last few months with Todoroki who's hot flame for you has turned to ice.

An icy flame you snuffed out forever this morning. Ending things between you and Todoroki forever.

You kept quiet about the whole thing. What between his lingering gazes to Momo and your changed personality it was for the best that you two separated.

You sigh, how could you be so unlucky to get a seat next to the most callous person on the plane?

But this is what you get right?

What you deserve after shutting, practically slamming, the door on something that made your heart soar ten times more that what Todoroki could ever provide.

And now there he sat, ash blonde embodying all of your mistakes as his feigned hate, the old sexual tension between you two turning to real, true loathing.

Your throat closes and you feel tears burning in your eyes. You blink furiously, determined to get this flight over with.

You shove your bag into the overhead and sit quietly. Hands already fidgeting as other heroes load onto the plane. You try not to call upon your quirk for comfort but the lights dim anyway. The darkness, even in the day, calls to you but you must ignore the shadows and their whispers.

Yours could blind the pilot, you close your eyes and try to meditate. That is until the low hum of the engines roar with gusto, speeding up as the plane does.

You swallow gripping onto you own hand so tightly half blood moons appear. As the plane ascends the Earth fights to keep you on the ground frightening you. Suddenly a hand is held out to you and when you do not take it a soft tsk fills the space between you.

"Take my hand baka." He bites and you listen. Lacing your fingers with his own, relishing his ass backwards comfort. You squeeze your eyes shut as you grip onto such a familiar hand despite not having held it in eons.

"Oi." His voice is feather soft in your ear, the same as all the times he whispered in the middle of the night to see if you were awake so long ago. You respond the same way you always had, peaking open one eye in his direction.

"Who's sitting in front of us?" He whispers and you try to focus on his voice instead of the constant sound of the plane tearing through the air.

"Ah umm." You peak through the seats to see your petite friend still sporting her chestnut hair short, "Urakaka-chan."

"Right. So what's her quirk?" His lips are still by your ear.

"Anti gravity."

"Good ki..." He pulls back and almost rips his hand from yours before glancing at your face. Tears still threatening to be shed although anyone else wouldn't have noticed. Katsuki clears his throat and tries again.

"So then if by the nearly impossible chance this plane goes down. Who are you grabbing first?" His voice is rough again. Angry at himself and never agitated with you, or your fear.

"I'm going to grab you and U-san." You squeeze his hand and the lights dim for a moment before you take a large calming breath. Katsuki furrows his brow. Why in the world would you ever grab him? He goes to ask but sees that you are still a little shaky. He slips his hand from yours despite you fighting it to lift up the arm rest between you two and pull you to him.

"This is going to be your only opportunity to be this close to the Number One hero. So you better not get used to it." He snarls lowly but you snuggle deeper, ignoring the bite in his voice.

****************

The conference drags and passes within the blink of an eye as all boring obligations do. Time is slow behind the conference room walls and one is always astonished as to how it can be so late in the day.

You grit your teeth pulling at your black cocktail dress, sure that your cleavage would not spill any further. Normally heroes' costumes are acceptable for meetings but this one was more upscale. More of a formal international discussion on hero regulations and how to better unite the world's countries. During the eight hours you couldnt help your quick glances to a scowling Katuski who sat next to a bright and happy Deku.

Bakugou cleaned up well in his black on black suit, in fact he had changed his whole hero outfit to black on black just before graduating. The only spark of color his blood red eyes. You blush, you always loved how sexy he looked in black, especially now that he was dressed to the nines.

And well you never did thank him for his kindness. The second that plane landed you sprung up, even forgetting your bag as you exited the plane in blind fear.

"After party?!" Mina and Kirishima ask in unison though feet apart to their best friends.

You eye Katsuki who eyes you a moment before snearing away from you.

"I don't know. It's late."

"Its barely 8! And the sun hasn't even gone down! Plus it's not every day you get to party at America's nicest beach!" Mina begs as she pulls you along. All the while all you can hear is his sharp voice.

"I'm not fucking going Kirishima and that's fucking final."

Drinking comes easy when the shots are free. Especially with the tight black dress Mina lent you, the one where the front and the back dip low, lower than you're used to and you have to worry about your bust slipping out.

You hadn't realized how popular you had become in America, shocked to see your face and your name in Kanji on t-shirts of men and women.

"Aaayyyeee Dark Star let's get a selfie and take a shot together!" A fan calls, he places his hand on your waist as he pulls you to the bar. It always feels odd to be guided by a man, you never did get used to it with Todoroki even after almost two years of dating.

Only one male comes into mind where it felt normal, safe.

But he isn't here tonight. So you let him buy you a shot and you take the selfie with his lips to your flushed from booze cheeks.

Little do you know how quickly the photo goes viral in just a few hours. You dance, take more shots and dance some more.

All into the late night. You dance with the throngs of sweating bodies. Music booming as the dark of the night whispers in the wind from the open garage doors to the big dance floor. You let it flow, weave through bodies and dim the lights even lower. No one falters in their dancing, if anything the extra dark is invited.

Mina slips her hand onto your arm, pulling you from your dancing trance

"Hey we are going to head up to the hotel for the night. Are you gonna be okay to make it back next door?" Mina's lips are pressed to your ear as she shouts, competing with the rhythm of your favorite song.

You dance now even in her grip as your eyes spot a drunk Kirishima at the fringes of the sweating intoxicated bodies.

"Yea I'll be fine!" You shout back. She gives you a look. One that says she doesn't really want to leave, they flicker over your shoulder to the man pushing his way through to you to present more shots.

"You sure? That guy..."

"Oh Damon?" You follow her gaze before holding her moon eyes once more, "He's friendly. Plus I could plunge him into eternal darkness if I really wanted too."

Mina gives your arm a final squeeze before she goes. You turn, not being able to stomach the jealousy that seeps into your bones.

Jealousy of her ability to live the life with the person she chooses.

You down Damon's offered shot and then greedily gulp his.

Wondering how much alcohol its going to take to drown out a particular set of candy apple red eyes.

[numba99]

Fatal Attraction

Summary: When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 2.7k

Song (new thing I wanna try for this series first song is the general ~vibe~ im going for with this) Him & I by Halsey and G-eazy

Warnings: OKAY SO this is gonna be a long one. Obviously this whole fic is going to have drug mentions in it. I want to be clear that I am not trying to glamorize/condone drug usage. We are all adults and can make decisions on how we feel about that kind of stuff on our own. This is merely a work of fiction and I completely respect you choosing not to read it for whatever reason. I am not 100% sure what’s going to come out as a I write this but I imagine there will be mentions of violence (though I have no plans nor interests in writing about violence explicitly), smut, weapons, etc. I will put more specific warnings on each part, but I wanted to give a general idea so you don’t start something you wouldn’t be comfortable finishing. okay thats enough of that, let’s get to the good stuff.

It was a Friday night like any other. You stepped out on to your personal stage for the night, wrapping you hand around the silver pole in the center. It was cold and familiar, the sensation always flipped a switch in you. It was time to work. A slow, sexy R&B song spilled out of the speakers as you began a sultry walk around the pole. You noted the faces in the crowd, painted blue by the clubs low, mood lighting. They all melted together, a sea of desperate men with fantasies playing in their heads. Then you spotted him.

He showed up a little over a month ago, and since then has came in week after week. He always sat in the back, always by your stage. You had some frequent flyers, but no one like this, no one like him. He didn’t so much as look at any of the other dancers. He was there for you, you could feel that even from across the room.

And yet, you never felt uncomfortable by his presence. In fact, you looked forward to it. You couldn’t be certain, but you thought he was keeping at an eye out for you. You noticed he was always with another man, who was suited and stood behind him. If a patron got too in your face, he’d whisper to the man he was with, who’d then pull aside whoever was bothering you. Without fail they scampered away every time. You never heard what was said, but the look on the other guys face told you it wasn’t very kind.

He tipped handsomely as well, though he never put the money on you. While the other men would clamor to slide single dollar bills in your lingerie, he’d have his “sidekick,” as you dubbed him, lay a single hundred dollar bill stage after every song... and then drop off a few hundreds before he left for the night. Some nights he'd tip you more than you could make in a week.

Though his presence seemed benevolent enough, you were a bit cautious of him. You wondered what this mystery man wanted, why he was watching you. In this industry, you learn to become suspicious of men that pay too much attention to you. You’ve dealt with many creeps in your time stripping, and you wondered if he was just rich and shy, waiting to build up the nerve to make a move on you and hoping the money he was dropping would soften you up.

As fate would have it, tonight would be the night you’d get your answer.

Your club’s manager Rick, who was as sleazy as sleazy gets called you off the stage for a private room booking. When you were lucky, or unlucky depending on how you looked at it, a man would book you for some time in one of the private areas. During this time you were either giving him a lap dance, or worse, acting like his therapist. You lost count of the amount of times you got alone with a man and he just broke down crying about his wife or shitty life or something you didn’t care about. It was a 50/50, but you put up with because they made you good money.

“Who’s the lucky man?” you deadpanned. 

“The dude back there,” Rick replied, nodded to your mystery man. You cocked a brow, shocked that he was requesting alone time with you when he hasn’t so much as sat front row for one of your dances. You had no idea what to expect, but you had a strange feeling growing in your stomach that there was more than meets the eye with this man. You never really got nervous for these things anymore, it was just part of the job, but something about finally being face to face with him was making your heart thud.

“Put on a good show for him would ya? Man spends a lot when he is here. Don’t need you fucking it up,” Rick said as he chomped on a stale-smelling sandwich.

“What room?” you asked, ignoring his stupid comments.

“Three. Get naked if he wants, I want that money y/n,” Rick replied. You turned around flipping him the middle finger as you walked away. It was supposed to be club rules that your bottoms always stay on... and it was also supposed to be club rules that guys weren’t allowed to touch you outside the private rooms. However, Rick could turn a blind eye if money was being made for him.

You knew you were at the right room, the sidekick was standing outside like a guard. He stepped aside for you without word, allowing you inside. Odd, but you’ve seen enough weird shit here that it didn't phase you. The door clicked shut and you spun around, finding the mystery man alone on the cushioned booth. The lights were low, but you could see him so much better now. His hair was slicked back into a low bun, face framed by a well taken care of beard. You couldn’t tell the exact color of his eyes in the lighting, but they were mesmerizing even from a distance.

“Sit,” he said softly, patting the spot next to him. You approached cautiously, keeping your eyes on him the entire time. It always raised your suspicion when a man didn’t ask you get on top of him right away.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those dudes who’s going to tell me I’m too good for this and you want to save my soul,” you said as you sat next to them. You’ve gotten a few of those holier-than-thou types in your time here. It was funny how when you told them you were not interested in being “saved” they still wanted a lap dance.

“I don’t think you’re someone who needs to be saved,” the stranger replied simply. Interesting.

“What do you want then?” you questioned.

“I’d love to know your name,” he replied, “ Your real name.”

You weren’t supposed to give out your real name at the club, but Rick never followed his own rules, why should you. Besides, he did say to give him what he wants.“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

He cocked a grin, laughing lightly. “I’m Mika.”

“Mika,” you repeated, your voice just above a whisper. You weren’t sure why, but it felt like such a victory to know this man’s name.

“Sounds a lot prettier coming from you,” He commented, “And yours?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, sending your stomach to your feet. Closer up you could see his eyes were a rich hazel. They seemed to pierce through you; you felt exposed under his gaze... and not just because you were in lingerie and he was fully dressed. You almost felt as if he knew what you were going to say before you could get the words out.

“Y/n,” you told him.

“Beautiful name,” he replied, “Fitting.” Mika had an innate charm to him, making all his words sound so much sweeter. His comment was simple, cliché really, yet it brought a blush to your cheeks.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you asked, trying to remember why you were here.

“I’d like to take you out,” Mika replied, “If you’d like of course.”

Of course you would, but it wasn’t that easy. “I’m on shift for another couple hours,” you told him. 

“Let me see what I can do,” Mika replied. Before you had a chance to ask what he meant by that, he called in his sidekick, who’s name you learned was Chris. Mika whispered something in his ear, handing him a thick wad of cash. Chris walked away without a word and Mika smiled at you. “Give it a minute.”

You weren’t sure what to make of all this, but you didn't really have time to process it. Just moments later Chris was back. “You're free to go whenever you want y/n,” Chris informed you. Of course, Rick never met a pile of cash he didn’t like.

“So what do you say?” Mika asked, flashing a warm smile. How could say no?

“Let me get changed,” You replied, standing up, “But just so you know, this club is filled with cameras. If you’re planning to take me somewhere and kill me or something, everyone is going to know it was you so don’t bother.” Felt like good measure to add that in.

Mika chuckled, “You’re smart, I like that. But don’t worry y/n, you’re safe with me.” You had no reason to believe him, but for some reason you did. He told you he’d be waiting outside his car for you, and with that you went back to the dressing room. You wished you had worn something nicer than just a pair of jeans and an old tee, but nothing you could do about that now.

You hurried out, not wanting to bump into Rick and deal with any of his stupidity. You were giddy as you stepped out on to the street, feeling like you were playing hooky in high school. Mika was right where he said he would be, leaning against a blacked out SUV. It looked sleek and expensive, much like him.

“Uber black?” You questioned.

Mika chuckled, “No, it’s mine.” Damn, who the hell had room for a car like this in the city? Mika helped you into the back of the car, the front occupied by the driver and Chris.

“Do you always travel with a pose?” you asked.

Mika pressed a button in side panel of the door and a divider went up, separating the two of you from the pair in the front. “Now it’s just me and you.”

“Still doesn’t answer my question,” you noted.

“Fair enough,” Mika replied with a hint of a smirk, “Typically Chris is always with me and the driver comes with the car so if you consider that a pose, then yes.”

“More people than I travel with,” you replied, “And who is Chris to you?” 

“A friend,” he replied simply. Right, because everyone’s friends follow them around like a guard dog, you thought. You didn't want to push him too much, he was still a stranger after all.

“You’re good at not answering questions,” you noted, looking out the window. “Do I at least get to know where we are going?”

“Well the only places open right now are-”

“Bars and strip clubs,” you answered for him.

“Right,” Mika nodded.

“Well if it doesn’t make a difference to you I’d prefer a bar,” you replied.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” Mika smiled, “How about one drink at the next bar we pass? I don’t want to keep you too late.”

“I’m good with that,” you nodded. Being that it was New York, the next bar popped up right away. Mika had the driver pull over and let told him to wait here as he helped you out of the car. Chris asked if he should come in with you guys, which you thought was a bit strange, but thankfully Mika told him he’d be fine on his own.

The bar was a small, a real hole-the-wall type place. The guests didn’t look too savory, but they were all far into their drinks to notice you. Mika sat you down at the furthest end of the bar, away from everyone else. The bar tendered begrudgingly asked what you two wanted, though you didn’t blame him for the attitude. You guessed you met similar people in your lines of work, so you totally understood.

“Just a vodka soda with extra lime, please,” you told him.

“Have you a got a vodka preference?” Mika asked.

You let out a short laugh, “Whatever’s cheapest.”

Mika bit back a smile, turning back to the bartender, “Whiskey neat for me. Give us whatever the best stuff on your top shelf is.” He tossed down a hundred on the bar top. That changed the guy’s mood.

“Of course, sir,” he scooped up the bill and scurried off. 

“You toss around hundreds like they’re single dollar bills,” you said.

Mika shrugged, “I like to be generous.”

“A generous man with a great job,” you replied as the bartender placed the drinks in front of you two. 

Mika smirked as his lips touched the glass, as if you’d shared some inside joke. “You could say that.”

“So what is it then? What do you do?” you asked, sipping your drink. You knew you were supposed to think it was so much better because it was the fancy stuff but to you vodka was well... vodka.

“I’m in business,” he replied simply.

“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s like me just saying I dance.”

“Does the distinction really matter?” Mika asked.

“Yeah, because people might assume I’m a Rockette meanwhile I’m just a stripper in a shitty club,” you replied before taking another long sip. Okay maybe there was something to this fancy shit.

“But either way you are still a dancer, so the statement isn’t false. Why not let people believe what they want?” Mika replied.

You let out a groan, “You’re impossible. But you are good at that thing you’re doing.”

“What thing I’m doing?” Mikas asked laughing lightly.

“The whole dodging questions with other questions thing,” you replied taking a swig of your drink. You were almost done with it; it went down smooth despite the familiar burn.

“But not good enough for you not to notice,” Mika pointed out.

“Definitely not,” you shook your head, “Nothing gets past me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Mika mumbled into his glass.

“Will we?”

“Maybe,” Mika replied, “If you go out with me again.”

“So I have to go out with you to get answers?” you questioned.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Mika replied, “But if you want to get to know me more, a second date would be a good place to start. That’s typically how these things work.” He added the last part in with a teasing grin.

“Touché,” you replied, “I’ll go out with you again.” Not just because you wanted to know more about what he does, though that was a motivator, you were just so intrigued by him.

“Lucky me,” he smiled. With that you both finished up and Mika left another generous tip. As you walked out of the bar, his hand found your lower back. You could feel the warmth through your shirt; it spread through your body weakening you in the knees.

He settled next to you in the car, closer than he had before. You suddenly caught a whiff of his scent, an intoxicating mix of earthy-warmth with just the slightest hint of sweetness. You found yourself staring at his neck, wishing you could burry your face into it and drink in the scent as you kissed at his skin.

“Your number?” You shook yourself back to reality, realizing Mika had been speaking to you. The way he looked at you made you feel like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, a blush rising to your cheeks as you took the phone from his hands. You tapped in your name and number before handing it back to him, resolving to not let yourself get so wrapped up in him like that. At least not while he was there to witness it.

“Well it was nice to finally meet you,” Mika said as the car came to a stop outside your apartment.

“Likewise,” you replied, hopping out. You turned around, allowing yourself one last look at him.

“I’ll be in touch about our date. Have a nice night y/n,” Mika replied.

“You too, Mika.”

You let out a long sigh as you made your way up to your place. You felt like you needed a drink more now than you did before that date. There was something about Mika that you couldn’t quite put your finger on that felt dangerous. Not that you ever felt unsafe with him, it was the opposite actually, but being with him felt like an adrenaline rush almost. Like you were doing something you weren't supposed to. Whatever it was, you knew there was more to this man than meets the eye. And you were determined to find out exactly what that was.

[buckthegrump]

Reflection - 2

Summary: A choice. Just one. It’s all it takes for the Princess of Arcadia to change her life forever. Whether it was for the better or not, time can only tell. 

Pairing: Princess!Reader x Knight!Bucky

Warnings: swearing and like a fight scene

Word count: 1406

A/n: cuz ya know why the fuck not

Mj had tried to talk Y/n out of going up until the moment she snuck out of her room to leave. But Y/n wouldn’t listen to any of it and now it was far too late.

The witch had given her a ring. It was enchanted so that as long as she wore it she would appear male to everyone around her. It sat on her right ring finger, the weight was foreign and there were multiple times when she absent-mindedly almost took it off. She’d never actually seen when she looked like with the ring on, she hadn’t had time or even thought about looking in the mirror. But seeing her new face would have to wait.

Her worries were put to rest as she passed the other recruits and then paid her no mind. A few greeted her with a nod as they roamed around the training camp. 

The sun was was still low in the sky, the clouds still a little pink from the sunrise.

Y/n hadn’t always been an early riser, she much preferred the quiet of night when everyone had gone to bed and the darkness provided cover perfect for sneaking around. But when Misty began training her, the older woman also forced a new way of living on the princess. With any luck, she would be placed on night watch.

* * *

Y/n pulled back the flap of what was to be her tent and found a young boy who looked way to young to be facing the realities of war.

“I’m Peter,” the boy said sticking out his hand, “Peter Parker.”

She took it hesitantly. A few thoughts crossed her mind as she shook his hand. One, she hadn’t come up with a fake name for herself and she very well couldn’t go by Y/n. People would figure out her secret quickly. Two, she hadn’t ever spoken while wearing the ring so she had no idea if she would sound different or not. And three, Peter seemed way to chipper for whatever the commanding officer had in store.

“Micheal Kingsman,” she said. Her voice was only slightly deeper

If MJ was there she’d make fun of her sister for the obviousness of her chosen last name.

“Sure,” she’d say, “because no one is going to figure that one out.”

But Peter didn’t seem to care, at all. He paced around the tent as Y/n put her bag at the end of the unclaimed bed. Her tentmate rambled on and on about how nervous he was to be working under Captain Barnes. Y/n went rigid at the mention of his name.

“Did you just say, Captain Barnes?” She asked slowly. 

“Yeah,” he sighed sitting down on his cot. “I heard a rumor that in order to get us ready for battle sooner General Knight is having him train us. They say he’s the best. After General Knight of course.”

Hearing Peter refer to Misty as her proper title reminded her that she would need to do so as well. Which was not something she was used to. After years of training with her, Y/n had gotten used to calling her Misty. Another thing that would give Y/n away if she let it slip.

The sound of a drum beating filled the air and Peter sprang up to his feet. He was out of sight before Y/n even had the chance to stand up.

Y/n had heard stories about Captain Barnes. Stories that she’d asked Misty about a million times, but the General refused to corroborate. But she never denied them either, which worried Y/n more.

* * *

“Soldiers!” Barnes bellowed as he walked back and forth on the small platform at the front of the crowd. He held his left wrist with his hand behind his back as he talked about what was expected from the new recruits.

Y/n stood next to Peter who was taking in every single syllable that the Captain spoke. She was only half paying attention though. She was more focused on the fact that Captain Barnes, the notorious Winter Solider, was so good looking.

As in too good looking. He was more than good looking, he was beautiful. No other word would work to describe the man. Y/n almost laughed out loud at the fact that someone had actually piqued her interest. Oh if her sisters could see her now.

His brown hair was cut shorter at the sides and back and had a little more length at the top. Even though she was a few rows back and couldn’t get a good look, she could see the blue of his eyes.

She let her mind wander. Wondering what it would be like to get lost in those eyes, or run her fingers through that hair. It was probably impossibly soft.

Barnes stood facing the crowd of boys, finally finishing his speech.

“We don’t have a lot of time to get you battle ready so I expect everyone to be ready to begin training by 1 pm sharp. A third of you will begin with archery led by Lieutenant Barton. Another third in swordsmanship with Lieutenant Wilson. And the last in hand to hand, with me.”

Y/n smiled to herself at the idea of training with him. Get it together, Y/n. You’re here to fight a war not throw yourself at a knight.

“Do not be late,” Barnes commanded, then released everyone.

* * *

Y/n reported to archery first. It was one of the few areas that she hadn’t covered with Misty. Which wasn’t surprising because Misty had focused on fighting styles because she thought that Y/n would only use them to defend herself.

She did her best not to draw too much attention to herself. Hitting the marks when it was expected but throwing in a few misses so that the Lieutenants wouldn’t single her out. It was going well until she finally had her rotation with the Captain in hand to hand.

As she sat on the sidelines of the fighting area she took mental notes of who had what weaknesses, she’d done the same with Lieutenant Rogers, but she had this odd need to impress Captain Barnes.

“The best thing you can do in a fight is let your opponent underestimate you,” Misty’s advice rang through her ears throughout the first week of training. It wouldn’t be too hard, the body that everyone else saw was a scrawny little lad with wide eyes. So she’d play into their assumptions that Micheal Kingsman was just an unlucky peasant who got summoned for the war.

“You there!” Captain Barnes pointed at her. “What’s your name?”

Y/n was speechless as the Winter Soldier stared at her with such intensity she not only forgot her fake name but her real one as well.

“Are you deaf?” He said louder, “Your name soldier.”

“Micheal Kingsman.” Every time she said her chosen name allowed she could hear her sisters in the back of her mind making fun of her for it.

“Front and center, Kingsman,” Barnes ordered. 

She quickly followed directions and let her self be as small as she could make herself standing in front of her commanding officer.

“How many of the other trainees have you sparred with?” He asked.

“None,” she answered in a small voice. 

His eyes narrowed as he scoffed, she could practically see him file her away as a weakling.

“Well, if you think that you are going to learn anything by watching, let’s see what you’ve learned.” He said it in such a way that pissed the princess off.

She took her stance but made it seem like she was unsure about it. He stood there for a moment waiting for her to make the first move. When she didn’t he attacked landing a few punches. He hit her in the stomach and elbowed her in the back. When she noticed that he was going for a knee to her groin she evaded the hit.

During her observations, she noticed that he favored his right side for everything so she kicked his left side. He spun around with a look of shock on his face when it actually landed. He advanced on her again, she allowed him to knock her down.

“Don’t let think that you can skate by on luck alone,” he told her before walking off.

[mithrilwren]

Blueberry Cupcakes

jester x the bakery girl. because this ship is something that deserves to exist in this world. also on ao3!

The thing is, she really doesn’t get new customers.

The Softer Stone Forge is something of a family business, which is not to say that her family owns the bakery – she owns the bakery, and proud of it  – but rather that the same families frequent it year after year. Folks know her for her skill and pay as often in fresh ingredients as in coin, when there’s enough produce to be bought from peddlers who trade in warmer lands down south. In that way, the pastries she makes are a community effort, and that community rarely changes.

She’s just gotten a new crop of blueberries in from the Squiresword’s son, and flash frozen too, bound to keep fresh for the rest of the winter. She’s very happy about that.

“Hello, beautiful!”

The unfamiliar voice tinkles on the air, light as snowdrops, and she looks up to find a strange girl in the middle of her shop, with her arms outstretched and twirling slowly on the spot as she takes in the rows of shelves like it were a palace of jewels.

The girl’s blue hair falls loosely against her shoulders, and beneath the wind-blown bangs she spots the hint of violet irises set amidst a sea of freckles. Stranger still, the tips of pointed horns peek out above her ears. The girl’s dress is unlike anything she’s ever seen, even among the southern merchants: layers of dark fabric cut into angular pleats and held together at the waist by a thick embroidered scarf. She’s so caught up in staring at all the different facets of peculiarity that it takes a long moment for the girl’s words to register, and by the time she begins to wonder if they were directed at her, the cheerful voice resumes. She prepares herself to deliver a professional, if bemused, spiel about her wares.

The girl not from the city, not that that was ever in question, but it’s soon clear her new customer isn’t even from the region at all.

“Have you never had black moss before?” The girl’s eyes go wide as she hands over the first of the batch, and she can’t help but smile back as the girl’s grin spreads from ear to ear. She learns that her new customer likes sweet things, but not savoury, and isn’t particular beyond that preference, and that she tips.

Nobody in this town tips.    

“Thank you for your patronage,” she says, and despite the fact that she’s been up for five hours and on her feet for most of that, the farewell isn’t as perfunctory as she usually gives.

An honest conclusion to an odd encounter, one that’s not likely to be repeated, but definitely something worth gossiping over at the bar when she’s finally closed up for the night.

She turns to bid her goodbye, and finds the girl watching her with a look of absolute rapture.

“This… was worth the entire trip.”

Badump.

The girl stares after her with eyes entirely too honest, still wiping away the remnant of black crumbs from her lips, and she’s lit from behind by the glow of the hearthlight, and she’s...

Well, she’s gone, with a box of pastries and a promise to return, and without leaving her name.

She debates the merits of running out onto the street and asking, but as she looks down at her reflection in the polished metal, she notices the smear of frosting on her cheek. Cursing, she scrubs it away with a thumb, and by then the strange girl has disappeared somewhere down the length of the street.

The girl promised to come back tomorrow. Even so, she sets aside an assortment of the pastries before the freshest are sold, just in case.

---

Jester. The girl’s name is Jester.

She learns this the next morning, when the girl bounds up dutifully to the counter just past opening, this time dragging another girl at her hip. She finds she’s oddly disappointed, that the girl isn’t alone. The other is interesting in her own right – humans are not so rare as tieflings, but certainly not common in these parts – but while Jester still coos over every display, pointing out each little detail (and yes, she is proud of the new stamp she crafted to decorate the pheasant pies), the new girl slouches in the corner, unenthused and unwilling to participate in the decision making process. As such, she addresses her words to Jester alone. Politeness breeds the like, and all that.

“Yes, could I please have six more of those moss thingies from yesterday, and oh, as many of the blueberry ones are you can sell me!”

“Well, how many can you carry?” she half-asks, half-teases as she searches below the counter for a box and comes back up to find Jester with her sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, flexing the sizable girth of her biceps.

“Oh, I don’t know, a lot.” Jester leans in and whispers, “I’m really strong, you know.”

Badump.

It’s not that she’s unaccustomed to well-built girls. They’re a silver a dozen in a place like this, where half the town works the mines and the other forges what’s extracted. She could find herself a handful of blacksmith’s daughters stumbling into any given alleyway.

Which is why the blush that’s rapidly creeping up her cheeks is so… disconcerting.

“I can see that,” she forces out, and Jester grins, all bubbles and warmth, and takes the offered box.

“Thanks for this!” Her skirts do a little whirl as she turns. Which is only mesmerising because she still can’t place the style of the dress, and nothing at all to do with the way it makes the girl look like a dancer in motion as she steps lightly towards the door.

“Later,” drawls the second girl, tilting her head in farewell. She barely hear her, too busy staring off after the swish of skirts and the glint of torchlight against blue hair.

Beautiful.

When she finishes shaking her head of that unbidden echo, the shop is once again empty.

---

She learns a little more about the expedition Jester belongs to as the days go on, both from Jester herself and the whispers of the folks at the Broken Stool. They’re here looking for materials to reforge a sword, and not having much luck of it.

She’s not sure which is worse – the prospect that they’ll find what they need, or that they don’t. Either way, it doesn’t end with Jester still in town. Either way, it means an end to the little fascination that she’s begrudgingly permitted herself to entertain.

It’s not that she thinks Jester means anything by the flirtations, not really. She’s been unlucky in love often enough to be wary of supposing anything that’s not explicit. But it doesn’t mean she can’t daydream about what would it be like, to be the kind of girl that a beautiful, mysterious stranger falls for. Like something out of a song: to be swept away from this mundane life into a life of adventure, give me only your word, and I will follow you to the end of the world. Or even a tale less fantastical: a soft hand slipped into hers, a secret meeting in the shadows of the eave, a kiss by firelight and gone by morning.

She certainly won’t be the one to ask, but if it was offered… well, she wouldn’t say no.

One day, Jester comes in and asks to see how the baking’s done. It’s a process very near and dear to her heart. It’s also all already done for the day. There’s no dough left to bake. Jester only smiles brighter at this.

“Then let’s make some!”

“It’ll take time to rise.”

“I can wait!”

Jester hops up on the counter, thigh landing just inches from where her hand rests on a stack of delivery forms. A few inches closer, and her pinky would brush the edge of Jester’s pleated skirt.

Badump.

She takes a step back and wipes her hands on her apron, though they’re perfectly clean.

“Right, let’s get started then.”

Jester is a willing, if absentminded student. She eats more than her fair share of the blueberries before they can make it into the filling, which she wants to be annoyed about – they were expensive, after all – but every time she tries to muster the frustration she’s supposed to be feeling, Jester makes a pleased little hum in the back of her mouth as she pops another in, and the chastisement fades into a sort of fondness she knows it’s much too soon to feel.

There’s frosting on her face again by the time they’re done, and Jester brushes it away with her knuckles then pops her fingers in her mouth, and oh, that is… not helping.

“Still sweet,” Jester crows by way of explanation.

“Do you like sweet things?” she asks stupidly, to prevent herself from doing something even more stupid. Jester looks at her like she’s gone mad.

“Of course, I told you that, silly.”

“If you like sweet things… then close your eyes.”

She doesn’t know where this sudden bravery came from, but once she’s said the words she can’t call them back, and Jester’s eyelids are already fluttering closed. Swallowing, she turns around to the workbench and grabs a palmful of course sugar, then a blueberry from the bowl of water where they’d been defrosting. A quick squeeze leaves the berry encrusted in a coat of shimmering crystals. She hastily brushes the rest of the sugar into the sink and turns back to Jester.

“Open your mouth.”

Jester’s lips quirk, but she opens them dutifully. Before she can think better of it, she reaches out and places the berry on her tongue. The lips close, catching the edge of her thumb before she can pull away, and just that brush of moisture and heat is enough to send a shiver all the way down to her toes.

Jester sighs around the berry as she chews, and without opening her eyes, she murmurs, “Sweet.”

“Yeah,” she replies faintly.

Jester’s eyes open. They’re less than a foot apart. Any closer and their knees would be touching.

Jester’s cheeks aren’t pink like hers, but it’s darker than they were before.

“You’re looking like you’re about to kiss me,” Jester teases, laughing lightly.

“Yes,” she says, and Jester’s smile falters. It’s the first time she’s seen her off balance, and well, In for one, in for a dozen. “Can I?”

Jester opens her mouth, then closes it again, sugar crystals glistening on her chin.

She doesn’t move, not before getting permission.

Jester does.

The lips that meet hers are soft – hesitant, unsure – and she tastes of blueberry and sugar and clean, smokeless air – more confident now, and open, and pressing back – and she never wants to taste anything else again in her life, if it means keeping this moment on her tongue.

They come apart spit-shined and mussed, nervous and bright-eyed, just slightly bruised. Neither of them knows much about kissing, it turns out.

The second attempt is a little cleaner.

By the third, they’ve really got the hang of it.

---

The cupcakes burn. Jester still eats three.

---

It can’t last forever. She never expected that it would. There comes a day when Jester steps into the bakery and her eyes are a little less bright than usual.

“So, we’re leaving today,” Jester explains, regret thick in her voice.

“Oh,” she says. “Ok.”

“…I don’t know the right thing to say. This isn’t how the stories usually go.”

No. The stories end in forevers or in tragedy, but never in the inbetween. How do you say goodbye when you mean, thank you? When what you had wasn’t an epic tale of eternal romance, but it meant something, all the same?

“Here,” she says, pulling a cupcake off the rack and walking around the end of the counter, walking until they stand toe to toe. “For the road.”

Jester takes it, then throws her arms around her shoulders. There’ll be frosting in her hair when she checks later. “I’ll come back and see you again.”

She doesn’t think that Jester will, in the end, but that’s alright. It seems silly to regret the sweetness, even if it’s brief.

“Goodbye, beautiful,” she says, and rises up to her tiptoes so she can plant a kiss on Jester’s temple. “Think of me sometime.”

Jester’s smile is a little watery, but she nods and waves goodbye, but pauses in the doorframe to shove the whole cupcake into her mouth. She breaks into a laugh, and Jester gives her a thumbs up through the window.

She can’t think of a better image to remember her by.

[themurphyzone]

All Time Travelers Go to Heaven Ch 13

Oh hey it’s the number 13! The unlucky number! Also, some religion. 

Uploading this so it’ll be Friday the Thirteenth on Eastern Standard Time (US). Everyone else can enjoy the chapter a few hours earlier or later depending on your time zone!!!

Ch 13- Sanctuary

“It would be less obvious to take you to the Murphys’ church rather than going directly to their home,” Brick explained as the limo pulled into the downtown area. “Savannah and I determined through careful observation that Brigette Murphy regularly visits the church by herself while her husband and daughter are at work and school. Luckily for you, today would be one of those times.” 

Milo’s eyes were fixed on the aquarium in the backseat. “I can’t believe I get to meet my mom,” he murmured. “You think she’ll look like me?” 

Vinnie ruffled his hair. “Maybe. Or you could take after your dad. Who knows?” 

Balthazar barely paid attention as Brick rattled off details of the Murphy family. Something about a safety inspector, an architect, and a comic book store. 

If this was indeed Milo’s biological family, they at least had a steady income. He could have a sister. He would be able to go to school like any other child. 

So why did he feel as though he was abandoning Milo? Due to circumstances beyond their control, the Murphys had missed out when Milo chose his name, his first time purchasing clothes he liked, or seen the laughter when Milo touched a horse for the first time. 

It hadn’t been a week, and he was already fond of Milo. No wonder emotional attachments were highly discouraged for agents. It made it hard to think properly. 

But it was for the best. 

And he wished he could convince himself that. 

The limo pulled up to the steps of the Danville Catholic Church, the steeple towering high over the other buildings. A stained glass window of a dove was set above the heavy wooden doors. 

He and Vinnie had passed by the church several times back when they were still lowly pistachio sellers. Now that he had to go inside, it was starting to look more ominous by the minute. Churches just didn’t agree with him. Not after the blackout he had in the Puritan era. 

“Before you leave, there’s one more thing I must ask you to do,” Brick said sternly as they exited the limo. “You will not reveal to Brigette Murphy that Milo is her son on the grounds of the church. That information is best reserved for a private conversation.”

The limo sped off, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. 

“We’d better get inside before anyone sees us,” Balthazar said. He placed his hands behind his back, his fingers twitching to clutch the watch. The habit was spiraling out of control. 

In a matter of minutes, the tub of holy water burst, a candle claimed a painting of the Last Supper, and four crosses had splintered. 

“Echo!” Milo shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. “Hello! Salsa!”

Balthazar sat down in one of the front rows, ignoring the oily water that was covering the back area of the church. He rested his head on the pew in front of him, the watch trembling under his shirt. 

Vinnie rested a hand on his back. “Maybe you oughta lie down.”

You can never come back.

“Dakota,” Balthazar gasped. “I think...I think it’s happening again.” 

The ticking was the only thing he could think about. It filled his mind, the hands beating without end. 

“Try and fight it,” Vinnie urged quietly. His grip tightened on Balthazar’s hands. 

A swift end will come to those who reject heaven. You cannot fight it. 

He couldn’t.

He just couldn’t....

Balthazar’s vision darkened, and the collar of Vinnie’s shirt was the last thing he felt as the accusatory voices took hold, dragging him away to some unknown, lonely place. 

Heavy metal chains and locks bolted him to the chair, its monstrous four legs parading him through the flames while horrible, grotesque demons cackled and jeered. 

They prodded his face with sharp sticks. 

They grabbed the chains and forcefully yanked in every direction, forcing him to gasp for the heavy, stuffy air that made it almost impossible to breathe. 

They appeared out of nowhere, their faces melding with the brimstone walls, fangs bared in horrible toothy grins as they delighted and reveled in his humiliation. 

The chair ground to a halt at the end of the long hallway. 

“GUILTY,” a chorus of voices proclaimed. 

Balthazar couldn’t speak. Only a hoarse cry came out, his desperate plea falling on indifferent ears. 

“GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!”

A wall crumbled away, and a clawed, red hand reached through to drag him to his punishment....

And a spray of cold water hit his face. 

Balthazar’s eyes flew open, and he groaned as another wave of mist hit them. “Was that necessary?” he complained. He tried to sit up, only for his chest to feel like it was on fire. He grimaced in pain. 

Vinnie set the spray bottle down, throwing a wad of slightly damp paper towels at him. “Your watch was burning you,” he said. “I tried taking it off, but you were thrashing around so much and screaming when I barely touched the strap so...yeah. And I needed to cool the watch down.” 

The watch had burned him? He gingerly unbuttoned his dress shirt, carefully peeling the rather warm watch away from his skin. Sure enough, there was a red circular imprint where the watch had been. 

He dabbed the area with a damp paper towel, wincing as the edge brushed the sensitive area. 

“It’s not too deep,” Vinnie sighed. “And don’t worry about Milo. I sent him out to get paper towels before your episode hit its high point.”

Balthazar looked away. “He’s seen me have one before.”

Milo had survived countless unethical experiments. Surely he would be able to handle a caretaker who occasionally hallucinated eternal damnation. 

However, he knew Vinnie would disagree if he said it out loud. 

“Not one as bad as this,” Vinnie murmured. “He handled it a lot better than me the first time. I had to make it up to you. I was so mad at you after the first time. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad. But no, past me just can’t seem to be there when you need it.” 

Balthazar sat up, ignoring the pain in his chest. He lifted Vinnie’s chin up so they could look each other in the eyes with no hesitation. “We had this conversation earlier,” he said sternly. “You’re not to blame and I will not allow you to leave this room until you see that. Understand?”  

“You mean it?” Vinnie asked. There was something odd about his hesitance now. It shifted to another place. 

But where? 

If he wanted Balthazar to answer, then he shouldn’t have been leaning in that closely.

He chose to ignore it, nodding. “Absolutely.” 

A door slammed against the wall, and Balthazar jumped, quickly buttoning his shirt up before Milo could see the burn on his chest. He would have to get some ointment for that later. 

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to bang it that hard!” Milo exclaimed, not noticing that he was covered head to toe in paper towels. He rushed over, dumping two rolls next to Balthazar. “I guess I kind of took a while, huh? You’re alright now?” 

Vinnie shook his head. “Nah, your timing’s fine.” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Balthazar said, hoping to wave away his concern. 

Milo still didn’t look convinced. “You weren’t fine. You were clinging to Mr. Dakota and shouting,” he said. 

Why did his companions feel the need to restate previous conversations? He was getting tired of repeating himself. 

“You got paper towels all over you, kid. Did the dispenser vomit on you or something?” Vinnie chuckled as he discarded all the loose towels from Milo’s head. 

“No,” Milo said, still looking concerned. He was expecting an answer. 

Balthazar was glad Vinnie had switched to another topic so rapidly. It was wise to avoid another long, draining argument. 

Especially when the other party was a boy who was all smiles even when life handed him the short end of the stick. He couldn’t begin to imagine a Milo unwilling to speak with him. 

“-so then she said she’d put in a request at the church office to clean up the water before weekend service. She was really nice about it too. It was funny, she said the office was used to her requests anyway,” Milo explained, his concern replaced by excitement. “Oh, and she’s coming by the chapel, so if we stay long enough, you guys can meet her!” 

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Balthazar reminded him. “We’re on a lookout for Brigette Murphy, remember?”

“Brigette?” Milo gasped, jumping back in surprise. “You mean-”

“Wait, that woman you were describing, did you happen to get her name?” Balthazar asked. Brick and Savannah had left out any physical features, nor did they have a picture, so dumb luck was all they had in picking her out from all the other church patrons.  

Milo nodded, grinning. “I found Brigette! I found-oh my gosh, I found my mom! I dunno, I don’t think I look like her though. And she doesn’t seem like the abandoning type. She’s really nice.” 

“This is great, Milo! I love a good coincidence, isn’t that right, Balthy?” Vinnie grinned and elbowed him. 

“Right,” Balthazar said. “Milo, I know this is exciting for you, but we cannot reveal your biological relationship to her just yet. It should wait for a more opportune time.”

Not even that warning could deter Milo. He was sure the boy wouldn’t slip up, but he also wore his heart on his sleeve. 

And Balthazar wanted to meet Brigette and her family first before entrusting Milo to them. Based on Brick’s observations, they were likely good people.

As far as Milo knew, his family abandoned him. Yet he was still excited to meet them. 

He didn’t know how to be suspicious. 

“I never caught your name, you know,” someone said. They glanced over to a side door, and a woman with short, dark blonde hair waved at them. “Hello, you must be his guardians.” 

“My name’s Milo!” he exclaimed. “This is Mr. Dakota, and next to him is Mr. Cavendish!” 

Vinnie waved at her. “You don’t have to include the mister part for us, don’t worry.”

“Is your name Brigette by any chance?” Balthazar asked. “Apparently you and Milo had a fascinating conversation.” 

Brigette smiled, shaking hands with Balthazar and Vinnie. “Yes, I’m Brigette. Nice to meet you. And it was no problem, I was just helping out. The church office has a separate box for my husband. It was easy to stick in a cleanup note along with a half dozen other repair jobs.”

As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Milo. “Are you all right?” he asked. 

Brigette nodded. “I’m fine. Your cowlick just reminded me of someone, that’s all. Don’t mind me.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Would you three like to join my family for dinner? It’s been a while since we had guests.”

Vinnie nodded eagerly. “Yes! Thanks so much! Come on you two, it’ll be fun!”  

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t turn down a free meal.” 

“Where else are we supposed to get one?” Vinnie asked. 

But he was right. And Balthazar certainly wasn’t wasting this opportunity. 

“We’ll be happy to accept,” Balthazar said. 

Milo smiled. “Are you a good cook?”

“I think so. It’s not really one of my main talents though. That honor goes to being an architect,” Brigette admitted. “But someone’s gotta do it, right?” 

“Tell me about it,” Vinnie muttered. “Last time Balthy cooked, he wouldn’t leave me alone because he couldn’t tell when the noodles for spaghetti were ready.” 

Well, excuse him for not wanting to throw it at the refrigerator as Vinnie instructed. He didn’t want to clean carbohydrates and water off the surface, thank you. 

“Well, let me give you my address so you can come over later,” Brigette said, reaching into her purse. 

She didn’t realize they had no means of transportation other than walking. He supposed he could call a taxi, but he’d rather save the dwindling wad of cash they had for food or other emergencies. 

And it would be easy for an agent to pose as a driver. It was far too risky.

“Ma’am, while I appreciate the gesture, we don’t have a way of getting to your home,” Balthazar said. “You see, we became homeless recently and we can’t even afford gas.” 

It was technically true, even if he did oversimplify the situation. 

“Oh,” Brigette said, her gaze softening. “Then why don’t I give you a lift? There’s plenty of room in my car. It’s no trouble.”

“That sounds great,” Vinnie said. 

“I’m sure Martin and Sara would love to meet all of you,” Brigette smiled. But there was something...sad about it. At first Balthazar thought it was because he mentioned being homeless, but then she reached towards Milo, as if she wanted a closer look at his face. She thought better of it, pulling away. “Do you mind if I go pray for a few minutes? I’m sorry, it’s something I’ve done for years. Ever since one of...since one of my children died shortly after birth.” 

She rushed off to the opposite side, quickly kneeling on a bench in front of a statue of Mary, her head bowed in prayer. 

Milo gripped Balthazar’s arm. “Do you think I have another sibling?” he whispered, his eyes wide. 

“I’m not sure,” Balthazar admitted. “But you were certainly not abandoned.”

His theory was that someone from the Bureau had lied to Brigette and her family about her son dying after birth.

Savannah and Brick likely never realized that aspect of the story. It hadn’t been in the file they’d given him that contained all the background information on Milo. They only looked at facts and consequences, but never the hurricane of emotions that followed. 

Vinnie pulled Milo close to him, stroking his hair soothingly. “It’s complicated, huh?” 

Milo nodded silently, curling into a ball on the pew. His head rested on Vinnie’s leg. Balthazar inched closer so that his side touched Milo. He really wasn’t sure what he could say, so he hoped a tiny amount of physical contact was enough to reassure him. 

Brigette’s back was turned to them, but it didn’t escape Balthazar’s notice that she reached up and touched the baby in Mary’s arms. 

[ruffsficstuffplace]

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 3)

Morning.

Back when Weiss was still living in Atlas, this was when the sun was already high and up in the sky, warding off some of the perennial cold that haunted the continent, made it possible to safely venture outside your homes without freezing to death, or becoming easy prey for Grimm.

Here in Mistral, however, it was long before the first rays of dawn had even begun to peak out from the hills and the mists that had settled overnight, people climbing out from their bedrolls, fumbling in the dark for the ubiquitous jars of pickled plums meant to wake all but the dead, heading out to work like a shadow or a passing breeze, or serving as a fumbling, bumbling alarm clock for everyone unlucky enough to be in their way.

Weiss groaned as she got up off her sleeping roll, cast a glance to one side of her—Lotte was still sleeping, her glasses locked in a case and nestled beside her, but Sucy seemed long gone, her sleeping bag empty. She paused, checked herself for any new limbs or odd discolourations of her skin that may have popped up overnight, found none and sighed.

Then, she turned over to her other side, and looked at Akko. She seemed to be sleeping easy, and the drool spilling out from her mouth seemed to be the normal, acceptable amounts, but it didn’t hurt to be sure.

She reached out, gently shook her awake. “Akko… Akko! Akko, get up.” Weiss whispered.

Akko groaned, rolled over to her other side. “One more hour, Auntie Freya, just one more hour...”

Weiss smiled. “That’s a good sign,” she thought, before she started shaking her more vigorously. “Akko. Akko, come on! It’s morning, time to get up.”

Akko burrowed deeper into her sleeping bag, now looking like a cocoon.

“They’re handing out free pickled plums for breakfast right now.”

Akko shot up, disturbing some of the still sleeping students nearby as she untangled herself. “Let’s go!” she whispered as she stood up and began to head out to the dining hall.

Weiss grabbed her wrist, gently pulled her back down. “Check to see if anything’s happened to you last night first,” she said, casting a wary glance at Sucy’s sleeping bag.

Akko’s eyes widened, before she started hurriedly examining herself, discretely peering into her clothes, sighing when she found nothing wrong. “I haven’t grown a tail or anything, have I?” she asked as she turned around so Weiss could look.

“Nope, doesn’t seem so,” Weiss said as she lifted up the back of Akko’s shirt. “Check for me?” she said as she did the same.

Akko gently patted Weiss’ back through her nightgown. “Nope! Clear too.”

Weiss sighed in relief. “Thank goodness...” she said as she began to stand up. “Come on, let’s go get ready for initiation.”

Akko nodded as she followed after her. “What do you think they’re going to have us do?” she whispered as they tiptoed around the still sleeping students. “All I know is that it’s out at the Celestial Hills this year, but like Uncle Nick and Auntie Freya said, they keep changing the specifics up.

“Ooh, do you think they’re going to have us hunt down some big Grimm that have been terrorizing the farming villages around here?” Akko asked as she and Weiss were at Haven’s bathhouse, the former washing the latter’s back as they sat at one of the faucets. “That’d be cool, don’t you think? It might even be whatever they say is terrorizing the outskirts at night these past couple of months!

“Or do you think it might even send us out to bust crime, flush out some bandits that have taken up there?” Akko said through a mouthful of pickled plums and rice, Weiss beside her going through her rice and eggs at a much more reasonable pace. “The hills are just FULL of old ruins and caves, prime real estate for some highwaymen or fugitives from the law!” Akko paused to swallow her food. “Though, I suppose sending a bunch of inexperienced teenagers off to fight adults who may or may not be former huntsmen and huntresses gone rogue wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do...” she muttered as she shoveled in a new mouthful with her chopsticks.

“Maybe they’ll just have us investigating their hideouts, after the adults already cleared the places out, bring back some of the supplies and pieces of evidence that would be nice, but not really needed to make a case against them,” Akko said as she and Weiss were at their lockers, retrieving their weapons and loading up with munitions and dust. “Or do you think they want us doing a minor missing person’s case…?”

Akko gasped, nearly dropping one of the grenades she was loading into the satchels on her belt. “Do you think they’re going to tell us they’ve found Shiny Chariot, and we’re going to look for more evidence that she’s back?!” she cried as Weiss flinched, snatched the canister from Akko’s hand, and glared at her.

“I don’t think they’d trust first years with such a big task, Akko,” Weiss said as she put it into Akko’s explosives satchel. “She’s been gone for over ten years without a trace, I’m pretty sure she sure she doesn’t want to be found.”

“But what if she’s intentionally leaving behind clues for us, and she’s going to surprise us all by being there to congratulate us when we pass?!” Akko cried, her eyes brightening up as she latched a shell carrier to her shotgun-axe, cradled it to her chest.

“Akko!”

Weiss and Akko turned, smiled as they found Ruby heading up to them, smiling and waving, her sister trailing behind her. “Man, and I am glad to see you guys again!” Ruby said. “Hey, listen, can you guys do me a quick favour and tell my sister Yang here we totally hung out and bonded yesterday?”

“Sorry to be a bother, just making sure she isn’t using the old ‘technically speaking’ trick again,” Yang said as she walked up.

“We totally did!” Akko replied. “We headed to the training grounds so I could show off Shooting Star over here and Ruby Crescent Rose, and we passed by like nine framed pictures of Shiny Chariot with her Shiny Rod! Ah, it was so cool!”

“I know, right?!” Ruby added, beaming. “Man, I wish I could study it up close so I’ll know how she managed to cram so many forms into such a compact form!”

“I’ve literally watched all her old videos hundreds of thousands of times, and I still have no idea, but it’s always amazing!” Akko said.

Weiss looked at Yang. “Believe her now?”

“Yep!” Yang said, smiling. “Happy to see you’re making friends, little sister,” she said, playfully ruffling Ruby’s hair.

Akko lowered her weapon, and looked at Weiss knowingly, a gesture Yang noticed. “So!” she said as she stepped up. “Name’s Yang, Yang Xiao Long,” she said, offering her hand to Weiss. “You’re Weiss, right?”

“Weiss Schnee, yes,” Weiss said, warily looking at her hand, before she took it and shook.

“Schnee like the dust company?” Yang asked. “Wow, I guess that explains my sister almost blowing up yesterday.”

“It doesn’t, actually,” Weiss said, quickly taking back her hand. “I don’t blame you for not keeping up with the news, but my family has cut ties with the company years ago,” she spat.

“Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed it with how many times your grandpa pops up in the news yelling or protesting about whatever the SDC is trying to do now...”

“Believe me, if he could have stayed on as CEO, he would have...” Weiss muttered as she pulled Myrtenaster. “And I kindly ask of you that this be the last we ever speak of the SDC, please.”

“Okay!” Yang said, holding her hands up in surrender. “Sorry I brought it up...”

“Apology accepted,” Weiss snapped coldly.

Yang took it as her cue to return to her locker, Ruby stayed and gasped as Weiss opened up the dust revolver. “Oooh, break-action and six cylinders! That’s pretty neat!”

“It’s an Atlesian design,” Weiss said, her tone slowly warming back up as she picked up a vial of dust from a neatly lined up row. “Say whatever it is you want about them, you can’t deny that they know how to design weapons and technology.”

“Can I hold it and check it out?” Ruby asked, looking at Myrtenaster like it was a small baby. “I totally understand if you won’t let me, but it’s just—I’ve never been able to see any of these up close, and never get to handle any of them because they’re so expensive, and the shops that do have them on display tend to have them locked up in cages or have a strict ‘No handling without proof of ability to pay’ policy and--”

Weiss calmly put the vial back in her locker, and handed Myrtenaster over to her. Ruby’s eyes widened, she stared up at Weiss with an expression of awe and uncertainty, before Weiss smiled and gently pressed it to her hands.

Ruby’s made a little adorable squealing noise, her eyes sparkling, her mouth spreading into a huge smile; with the care and reverence one might usually show an artifact sacred to millions, she took Myrtenaster, and started examining her.

It was quite the experience, watching Ruby’s small, agile hands dancing up and down the blade, those big silver eyes studying every last component and feature with such intensity,  her face lighting up and more delighted noises coming out of her mouth as she folded the fins, gently spun the barrel and heard the soft “click” of the gears locking into place, listened to the distinctive snap of the handle reattaching to the blade and the revolver mechanism.

“Thank you,” Ruby whispered, nearly tearing up as she handed it back.

“Y-You’re welcome!” Weiss said, unaware that her cheeks had flushed, her voice had gotten a bit squeakier than usual. “You really like weapons, huh?” she said, wrapping her hands around Myrtenaster’s hilt, the blade pointed down.

“Love them!” Ruby replied. “They’re like people, but better—so much history, so much personality…! I can always tell a lot about a person from their weapon, you know.”

“Then what does my weapon say about me…?”

“You work really hard, and constantly push yourself, but you know enough not to keep it up too long or else you’ll break down,” Ruby replied. “The dust exhaust vents are clean, the mechanisms are all well-oiled, and the blade’s freshly sharpened and honed, but there’s a lot of signs of stress along the inside of the barrels from prolonged dust use, like those little scorch-marks you probably gave up on scrubbing out; the trigger and the handle are so worn they probably fits your hands so perfectly you don’t even realize it; and there’s a few chips on the blade from wear and tear, and I’m pretty sure any remnants of the original finish and edge were shaved off from sharpening a LONG time ago.

“Nothing bad, though! The balance is impeccable like you’d expect from an Atlesian weapon, it’ll last through a LOT more before you have to consider getting a new weapon or reforging this, ideally with equal or higher quality metal, and just keep on keeping the vents clean and free, and you’ll be fine!

“I’m guessing you’re a pro at cleaning out the exhausts since you handle dust so often, right?” Ruby said, smiling.

Weiss blinked, staring at Ruby, before she painfully, awkwardly chuckled. “Ahahaha, yeah! Yeah, I do! You could say I’ve got like… magic fingers from all that work!” she said, holding up her hand and moving her fingers aimlessly, before she quickly put it down.

Ruby nodded. “Hah, I totally know what you mean! Feel free to ask me to do some maintenance on it some time, I’d be more than happy to do it for free just to handle your weapon again!”

“Myrtenaster,” Weiss blurted. “I call it Myrtenaster.”

Ruby smiled. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Weiss blushed. “T-Thanks… I chose it myself.”

“All first year students, please report to the docks for initiation,” a timid female voice said over the PA system. “I repeat: all first year students, please report to the docks for initiation.”

“Heh, guess we should all be getting ready now, huh?” Ruby said as she thumbed behind her.

“Y-Yeah, right! Initiation! Good luck out there!” Weiss said as she picked up one of the vials from her locker, awkwardly put it back as she realized she hadn’t opened the revolver yet.

“You too!” Ruby said as she hurried on back to Yang.

“That was awfully nice of her!” Akko said as she double-checked the contents of her satchels, chambered shells and grenades into Shooting Star, before taking them out again. “Looks like you’ve got a new friend who can do your weapon maintenance for you, huh?”

The smile on Weiss’ face fell. “R-Right, yeah… very nice of her...” she mumbled as she quickly loaded vials into the Myrtenaster, shut it and gave it a test spin.

Elsewhere in the locker room, Yang peered at Weiss with narrowed eyes and a small scowl, before she turned to Ruby. “Was that girl just flirting with you…?” she asked as she returned to her locker.

“What makes you say that?” Ruby asked as she grabbed Crescent Rose from her locker.

“… Never mind.” Yang said, before she and all the other students started heading out for initiation.

Small airships lined the docks of Haven Academy, professors standing beside the gangplanks, counting heads and double-checking identities as students trudged in single-file. Weiss broke off as she saw who was going to be supervising her batch, ran right up to him and threw herself at him.

“Grandpa!” she cried as she hugged one side of Nick, her arms barely able to even reach his middle.

“Weiss!” Nick cried as he hugged her with his organic arm, nearly hiding her from view. “If this ain’t a good sign, then I don’t know what is,” he said as he released her, playfully ruffled her hair. “You ready for initiation, sweetheart?”

“Absolutely!” Weiss said, beaming.

“That’s what I like to hear! Nick said. “Remember everything I told you?”

“I’d be hard-pressed not to with how many times you repeated it,” Weiss said, playfully rolling her eyes.

“Good,” Nick said as he coaxed her back in line. “Just make sure you actually do them, that’s the most important part!”

Weiss sighed. “I know, Grandpa, and I will!” she said as she ran back to her place.

Diana came up next in line, a frown on her face as Nick double-checked her details on his scroll. “A bit unprofessional to be offering your granddaughter insider help for initiation, isn’t it?”

Nick laughed. “Sweetheart, I swear just gave her advice I’d give any of my other students; if anything, she’ll have a harder time at it, knowing I expect her to do more than just pass.”

Diana didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t pry further, boarding the ship as to not hold up the line.

Soon enough, all the students for that batch boarded and were in their seats, parallel rows lining the sides of the hull, all facing each other. Weiss was happy to see that Diana and Ruby were in the same batch as her and Akko, not so much that Blake and especially Sucy were included, though at the very least Lotte was coming along with. She stopped checking out her fellow first years when Nick came, ducking his head and turning himself sideways to fit inside the hatch, slouching forward and visibly uncomfortable as he made his way to the center.

“Alright, pre-flight check, kiddos!” Nick said. “No going back to the locker rooms once we take off, so make sure you’ve got your Three A’s: arms, armour, and ammo, five minutes to run and back if you forget them! And because you’re first years: those of you who didn’t use the bathroom earlier, do it now, before you have to worry about a Grimm attacking you while you’re taking a dump.”

Snickers floated around in the air.

“You may think I’m joking, but trust me: once you’ve been out in the field for a while, you’ll start to savour every opportunity to use indoor plumbing,” Nick said. After a few moments, he asked, “Everyone all set? Alright, bring in the gangplank, shut the hatches, and raise the sails—we’re taking off, people!”

Cheers erupted in the cabin as the airship began to rise up into the air, steered itself towards the Celestial Hills in the distance.

Nick smiled as he headed to the seat next just outside the pilot’s cabin. “Laugh and enjoy yourselves while you still can, kiddos—it may feel like a field trip now, but believe me: everything’s all downhill from here.”

The students just smiled and chatted amongst themselves, blissfully unaware of just how far it was going to go.

[luriashrine]

1, 2, 3, 11, 13, 22, 23, 26, 38, 42, 44 and 45 BYEE

LAYZE I LOVE YOU GOD BLESS YOU!!!!! BUT ALSO I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS FOR THIS. 

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closet with?

So last night I’ve mentioned that Celia has six elder siblings and now is an excellent time to bring them all up! But before we do that, I’d like to briefly talk about Celia’s foil, Princess Phoebe, and her relationship with her siblings. Actually, I might bring up Phoebe every now and then to highlight their differences. So Phoebe has an elder sister named Ardith, who more or less has the same magical abilities as Phoebe since she’s also a sibyl like Phoebe( talking with the gods, summoning spirits to do their bidding, future vision, and a myriad of different sorts of elemental spells ) however, her powers are not as great as Phoebe’s. This is because Ardith focused on becoming the general of the royal army and decided to hone her skills in the art of combat rather than becoming a full fledge sibyl like Phoebe is training to be. Their relationship is slightly strained due to Ardith’s naturally… uh… well… to put it bluntly, let’s say bitchy demeanor and the fact that Phoebe often spends her time locked away in the library studying and practicing her powers due to the recent pressures her family has placed on her. So the two sisters rarely see each other and when they do run into each other it’s often Ardith placing pressure on Phoebe to control her powers better ( there is an explanation as to why they’re pressuring poor Phoebe but I’ll talk about that when I get the chance) and often talking down to Phoebe which, ok binch thanks because it’s not like Phoebe suffers from low self-esteem issues or anything. Despite their recent strain in their relationship, the two do care and love each other very much and are often looking out for each other. I SHOULD ALSO MENTION, that Phoebe is 19 years old and Ardith is six years older than her… if my math is correct I think Ardith is around 26 or 27 years old. 

PHEW NOW THAT THAT’S OUT OF THE WAY, LET’S TALK ABOUT CELIA’S UNNECSSARILY LARGE FAMILY!  SO LIKE I MENTIONED, she has six elder siblings. An older sister named Agnès who is 23, the second elder sister named Aina who is Agnès’ twin sister so she is also 23, yet another sister named Remei who is around 21, a brother named Izotz and he’s only 20, one other brother named Marcel who was 13 annnd lastly his older twin sister who’s named Olga. Yes, yes I know what you’re thinking… their mother and father did get…. erm, busy a lot but try to understand that the reason why they have so many children is because the queen mostly gave birth to girls, they were desperately trying to get a male baby so that he can take over the throne while they wed off the sisters. Izotz was born with a strange birth defect and they were worried that their citizens wouldn’t take him seriously as king so they tried again and got Marcel as a result. Both Celia and technically Olga are both considered mistakes since they weren’t really planned like the rest of their siblings. Now with that out of the way, Celia’s relationship with her siblings was ok… it wasn’t really good or bad… just…. ok. She actually got along better with only two of her siblings but we’ll get to that when we get to that part. Agnès, the eldest sister, often pushed Celia to her limits despite her weak disposition and Izotz thought that Celia was weak and a disgrace to their family because of the fact that she was born with magic rather than drawing magic from the planet like the rest of the population ( in this world being born with magic is considered unlucky due to the effects it has on the body such as internal bleeding, stiff joints and the fact that if they were to get injured their injuries would take a much longer time to heal. This is because they’re drawing magic from their actual body rather than the earth and humans weren’t really made to carry magic in their bodies like sibyls and espers are, using the magic latent in their body causes a sort of necrosis like effect on their cells). Now, I should mention here that Celia’s family has this mindset where they believe in the strong and often cast out the weak this is because the De Villanueva family were exceptionally good with casting earth spells, considered to have the strongest earth spells in all of the other kingdoms… something that Celia can not do despite the fact that she trained so hard to perform this sort of magic, so the fact that she was always so weak and is born with magic… I’m sure you can see why she wasn’t very popular with her siblings. So aside from Izotz giving her shit for this due to his own inferiority complex, the rest of her siblings just sorta ignored Celia and acted as though she didn’t exist, they only talked with her when it was necessary. In spite of this, Celia does hold some admiration for their strength even if she’s mostly jealous of them. Except for Remei and Marcel consequently, these two perfect angels that can do no wrong are Celia’s favorite siblings. The two just naturally got along with Celia despite the fact that they still value strength and hold the same values as the rest of the family. Where Remei often supported Celia the best she could by giving her all the sisterly love in the world, Marcel he was her partner in crime and they often pulled pranks and did things kids their age would do like climbing trees or playing games etc and etc. Whenever Celia talks about her siblings, she’s mostly referring to Marcel and Remei and the two had a large impact on her life. But in spite of loving them dearly, she still suffers from thoughts of jealousy towards them and does carry some resentment in her heart towards her siblings, not only were they valued far more than Celia but to the two had powerful magics as well.   

2. What was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

Florette treated Celia as though she were glass. She was far too dotting and pitying towards Celia. Celia had found her own mother to be far too suffocating at times due to her overbearing nature so she often went acted obediently and meek around Florette so that she can at the very least get off of Celia’s back. Because of this, Celia didn’t really like her own mother too much. As she got older Celia had seen her mother a weak and cowardly fool due to her passive nature, furthering her distaste towards her own mother. 

I can’t really say much about Phoebe’s mother here since she died after giving birth to Phoebe. *shrug emoji*   

3. What was your character’s relationship with their father like? 

King Gustavo was often away from home because he has no chill and is often starting wars. Due to the fact that he firmly believes that royals should fight alongside with the army, he’s often away from home so Celia rarely saw her father. That said, he didn’t really interact with her too much like he does with her other siblings and often gives Celia either looks of pity or disappointment. He wasn’t very proud of the fact that Celia was so weak. Before getting arrested and abdicated, he has considered sending Celia far away to a convent since he believed that she was… erm, pretty much useless and that no one would want to wed her. Celia’s feelings on her father is very mixed, although she wants him to treat her like the rest of her siblings she didn’t really like him all that much and actually found him to be intimidating for the most part. 

Phoebe loves her father and sees him as a wise and just ruler. She could never paint her father in a bad light and is too blinded by her admiration towards him. That said, the two do get along very well in spite of his more quiet nature. 

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been? 

The night of her family’s execution. It’s something that will forever haunt Celia since she saw all of the gory bits that happened to both her family and their loyal servants, she had barely gotten out of the execution alive herself so Celia had a pretty close brush with death. Everyone’s favorite asshole, The Lich, is all too aware of the fact so they often bring up the memory of her family’s execution whenever Celia is acting a little too rebellious towards The Lich. 

Phoebe had a very sheltered lifestyle, so she had very little to be afraid of growing up. If I say any more than that I might spoil things so I’m going to stay hush hush on that for now huehuehue. 

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

YES, VERY MUCH SO! As I’ve said before, Celia had front row seats to watching her family getting brutally murdered by the secret police. She saw everything, from them stabbing the ones that stayed alive to even watching the secret police disfiguring their faces so that no one would recognize the bodies. As you can imagine, she saw a lot of blood that night and the sight has haunted her ever since following her to her later years. She often gets pale at the sight of it and gets pretty lightheaded as well. When she was younger she actually used to faint at the sight of it. Because Celia’s natural reaction is to shut down her feelings whenever she feels that they’re getting out of control she often dissociates whenever she sees blood and often tries to stop her memories of the execution from surfacing.

Phoebe is used to seeing blood since she often helps out healing the soldiers with her magic. So she’s not as squeamish around it like Celia is, that said she doesn’t really like seeing blood all too much. 

22. What does your character like in other people? 

Celia likes to see loyalty, hard work, and most importantly complete competence in other people since... this helps greatly when leading revolutions against the most powerful and largest kingdom in the lands. She likes to see strength ( in terms of both magical and physical ) and people overcoming the odds. That’s literally it. 

23. What does your character dislike in other people?

UHM WHERE DO I EVEN START AKDNJANALJND?! She dislikes plenty of things, she dislikes it when people have better family dynamics than she did growing up. She dislikes the fact that everyone and their mother can use the magic of the planet where she can not. If I went on, the post will only go on longer than it needs too so I’ll stop picking at this for now.

Most of all, Celia dislikes kindness and pity. Keep those two things as far away from her as possible.

Side note: Phoebe dislikes mean people :((((((  

26. How does your character behave around children?

Celia... is ok with children for the most part. She tends to stay away from them and doesn’t really interact with kids unless she needs too. Though she does sometimes see them as being snot nosed brats.... pft. 

PHOEBE LOVES KIDS THOUGH!! She will often spoil the hell out of them and play games or read to them etc, etc. Phoebe firmly believes that children are the hope of the future and thus she often encourages them to do their absolute best. In turn, children tend to like Phoebe very much.

38. Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

H A, depends on the situation it’s mostly Celia removing whatever threat or problem it is she may be facing by either herself or manipulating others to do it... again it depends on whatever she may perceive to be a problem. Unless that threat happens to be the lich then Celia will remove herself and try to get as far away from them as possible. Aside from that though, Celia is not at all afraid of confrontation.

PHOEBE on the other hand.... she’s very passive and a bit of a coward as well so Phoebe tends to remove herself from whatever problem they may be. 

42. Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Phoebe’s grandmother, she was very close with her growing up and acted as a sort surrogate mother when she grew up. Her grandma was wise and often helped Phoebe with her magical training.

Unfortunately, Celia had a childhood of solitude once she decided to stop running away from the lich and become their student instead so that she can learn how to control her powers better. She doesn’t really see anyone as a parental figure   

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? 

Celia can say “I love you” to a person without meaning it because she’s a manipulative little witch. That said she doesn’t really feel love all too often since she’s a paranoid little shit and doesn’t really like opening up her heart to anyone. That person would have to dig through layers upon layers of thorns that placed around her heart... and even then Celia will still find it difficult to actually say I love you to that person. Thankful her actions speak louder than her words, and considering the fact that the person was able to break through Celia’s rough exterior to actually get her to feel something towards them... I’m sure that person would be able to tell that Celia feels the same way towards them by reading her actions. 

Phoebe is a very loving girl so it takes very little for her to say I love you. 

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them? 

Celia already knows what will happen to her once she succeeds with overthrowing Phoebe’s family from the throne. She won’t be able to join her family in the heavens and will instead have her soul bounded to the lich for all eternity. Suffering and never knowing peace after death unless someone were to defeat the lich. As a child, this frightened her so much which is why she often ran away from the lich and disguised herself as “Cecil” during her days living as a peasant (she was also running away from the secret police too so she couldn’t go around saying that she was the lost grand duchess all willy nilly). Eventually, she manages to get over the fear and strikes a contract with them to become strong enough to defeat Phoebe’s family. She... accepted that this would be her fate however she does have her moments of regret as she wishes she could see her siblings once more. 

Phoebe on the other hand, is afraid of what will happen to her after death. Since sibyls are like ambassadors to the gods and the people of the planet, if both her and her sister were to die a premature death, then the world will be plunged into eternal darkness unless another sibyl was to come.  She’s not really sure what will happen to her but she likes to think that she’ll join her mother in the heavens once she’s done with her duties on the planet.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Six: Consultation

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Six: Consultation

Notes: I wanted to take a moment to say hello to newcomers YinHai17 and EctoPanda. I had fun reading your comments! It's always nice to hear from everyone who reads my stories, new and old, so it made me smile to see a few new faces in my inbox. Thanks for reaching out! Also, I'm changing the break icon to this "(-~-)" because it's not showing up on FanFiction.Net and the parentheses seem to help (from what I can tell) and it makes the pacing pretty awkward.

(-~-)

Colorful morning light danced between the clouds creating a patchwork of rainbow hues that reflected off of the residual moisture present in the fog as a light rain coated the road in negligible amounts of liquid. It was actually more of a misty rain than anything else, but the effect was similar to that of a thick fog and you couldn't honestly really tell the difference either way. It lended the area an air of tranquility and slowness that one would normally equate to a snowy day in winter. An unusual thing to experience in the first week of August.

The buildings passed by in a misty blur as the van made its way through the early morning streets. No one was really out at this time of morning save for a few unlucky souls that were more than likely on their way to work or school. There would be little reason besides that to be out here.

Perched on the couch silently with his face in the palm of his hand and his shoulder leaned against the window frame was V. The young summoner took in his surroundings with mild curiosity, this being his first time in the city since his recent pseudo-resurrection. While he had indeed been alive when the van had made its journey from the warehouse where they had conducted the spell to the docks that housed the ferry to Fortuna, he had been semiconscious and unable to take in his surroundings. Actually getting to see something for a once was a nice change of pace.

As he gazed almost sleepily out of the window, he couldn't help but think about how many things had changed since then. It felt like a lifetime ago. An almost surreal amount of information had been dumped on him at a staggering rate, and he was still reeling from the aftermath. Part of him was subconsciously hoping that talking to Magnolia today might help put him at ease on certain personal matters. He supposed that it was all par for the course to some degree. Everyone had insecurities and anxieties that kept them awake at night. But V was under the impression that those concerns didn't normally include a critical lack of knowledge about potential demonic powers and having to grapple with a parent that had literally been partially responsible for their untimely death. Everything in his life was just so… complicated.

Within a few minutes, they had arrived in Magnolia's neighborhood, the rows of pastel colored townhouses and quaint business still slumbering beneath the cover of the thick mist. The warm glow of the vintage street lamps and the gentle swaying of the trees that lined the roads was a strangely welcoming sight, despite the fact that the last time they had been here had been under very trying circumstances and an immense amount of time pressure. It would be nice to simply take things slow for a change and have a conversation that didn't center around dire straits.

Nico turned the corner and pulled to a stop as she yawned sleepily. It was beyond her how V managed to be so alert this early in the day, especially after putting up half of the books she'd found him the night before. Even Nero wasn't that good with waking up on short notice, and he took cat naps in between fights on a regular basis. Said devil had opted to stay in bed where he belonged and sit this brief trip out. The way he figured it, there was no need to go into town for anything at the moment. They would be leaving for the bay the next day as it was anyhow, so why wake up at the crack of dawn and go kick Dante's door (and possibly his skull in) for having a hand in arranging this extraordinary uncomfortable vacation. More like Angstcation.

"Well, this is it," Nico said as she hopped down from the driver's seat and walked into the interior of the van, half to check and see if V had managed to stay awake during their trip," She's runnin' some sorta shop outa her place, so I'd guess she's up by now."

Due to the fact that V hadn't experienced the mixed joy of riding the ferry before (which had been… uncomfortable for him, to say the least) he hadn't said very much since they'd left this morning aside from the odd thing here or there when Griffon or Shadow materialized and began to pester her while she was trying to focus on not crashing into a building. Both of them had come to the silent conclusion that Nero made these sorts of trips much less dull. But would they ever tell him that? Not in a million years. He'd never let them live it down, especially Nico. As a general rule, V got a "get out of crap free" card from his younger sibling due to his more somber and thoughtful personality. Nero was more wary of saying the wrong thing to him. But Nico? Nah, she was free game.

V pried himself off of the window, entertaining the idea of cracking his back for a moment before deciding that it was more than likely an awful idea and simply standing up to wait for Nico to go and get whatever he had agreed to deliver for her the night before. In a way, he was morbidly curious as to what she and Nero had gotten a hold of.

"I appreciate your help," he said as he stifled a weak yawn, rubbing his eyes with his left hand," Where will you go?"

"Hell if I know," She said as she returned and plopped a clear tupperware container full of dirt and plant matter in his now outstretched hands,"Just gimme a call when you're ready to go. The number hasn't changed. Honestly, nothing really has. Van is still a mess."

V's eyes traveled across the room in an involuntary attempt to assess his surroundings. He concurred. It seemed that he might end up sorting that out at some point if he reached peak boredom. With a small nod he exited the van through the side door and stepped down onto the wet cobblestone, internally cursing his lack of balance. While he didn't think he'd break anything if he fell, he didn't exactly enjoy doing it, either. And there was no way that he was going to call on Griffon to try and catch him in a residential area with this many homes. That was just asking for trouble with the recent cult scare.

No sooner had the door closed than Nico had launched backwards out of her makeshift parking spot and peeled off in the opposite direction, narrowly missing him in the process. He stood there, contemplating why he thought it was a good idea to take her up on her offer for a ride as she passed him by. The white haired summoner was literally never going to get used to her terrifying interpretation of what driving was supposed to mean. It was a wonder he made it anywhere alive with her behind the wheel. Why didn't anyone else ever try their hand at it? Did she even have a driver's license? That was a matter for another time.

With his companion gone, he turned his attention towards the front door to the townhouse. Much to his sarcastic delight, she had stairs. A lot of them. While Nero's home did as well, it was very rare that he had any reason to venture up them. And also, his weren't stone or nearly this steep. That was always an added bonus.

"Well, isn't it wonderful to see your face again, dear?! And you've bought me a gift as well? I'm quite flattered. Two lovely surprises today, then!"

V flushed slightly and cast his gaze up, catching sight of Magnolia. She was leaning out of her third story window. Or considering the fact that the business she was rumored to run seemed to be located slightly below ground, did that make that the second floor? Or was her shop in the basement and not the ground floor? Why did he suddenly care so very much about it? He was going to have to climb the same number of stairs regardless.

He gave her a singular and deliberate waive as he made his way up the stairs, more focused on not tumbling back down them or dropping the box he was carrying than with responding verbally. He'd have to make amends for that once he was inside. The distinct pitter patter of feet against wooden stairs could be heard from inside the house, leading V to note subconsciously that she was coming down stairs. Though he wasn't sure why she'd found the need to rush for his sake. She'd probably beat him there anyway.

The white haired young man's prediction proved correct when she opened the door just as he stepped in front of it, seemingly boundless flight of stairs now behind them both.

"I do hope you're quite well, then? I heard you came to the hospital to see how well off I was." She said as she stepped out of the way, seemingly taking note of the extra care he'd allocated towards safely ascending the stairs. While he didn't really walk up them any slower than most people with his stature (especially his legs. They were quite long.) he'd clearly taken the time to mind his foot placement and had actually taken the stairs one at a time instead of skipping over them in mutaples. "Please, come in. I was just about to have my morning tea. Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

"Likewise. I haven't heard anything about your condition since you've left," V said with a polite nod as he crossed the threshold into her home, noticing for the first time how much taller he was than her. It was slightly disconcerting," I hope I'm not imposing. My apologies for coming on such short notice. That sounds nice."

Magnolia ushered him towards the living room with a pleasant smile as she took the container from him and sat it down on the coffee table, giving it a curious once over in the process. "Oh, think nothing of it, dear! I adore impromptu visits." She stepped into the kitchen and turned her back to him for a moment, fussing over a tea tray as she carried on," In fact, that's how I met your father. At this point, I'm quite certain that's his only method of dropping by for a visit. He's not exactly a social creature. Seems to run in the family."

Somehow that didn't surprise him. It wasn't too different from how he'd first encountered Vergil himself. And the sudden realisation that an aversion to social interaction was something they both shared was uncomfortable to him. V had noticed a lifetime ago that Vergil wasn't the most talkative person alive, but having someone that he was almost certain had known him longer than he had been alive made a conscious note of this made it stick in his mind like an insect in an especially sticky trap. He wasn't sure how to take being compared to his father. It made him question himself. How deep did their similarities run? Was being the level headed but internally tumultuous older sibling a curse of some sort that flowed within his very blood? After all, it was something else they shared in common.

The botanist stepped through the doorway that led into the living room and slipped between the set of armchairs, making a note of his studious silence as she sat the tray down and made herself comfortable. There was a certain presence in the room now that hadn't been there a moment ago when she'd left, and it held a weight that could almost be physically felt. If it were possible for a thought to suffocate someone, she'd be willing to believe that this one was capable of doing just that. But she wasn't concerned so much as she was curious. Her young companion had been perfectly fine mere moments ago. What had changed that? Did bringing up Vergil have that kind of effect on him? She had never considered the kind of relationship they shared before.

"...You think I'm like my father, don't you?" 

Although spoken under the guise of an inquiry, they both knew the answer to that question. A heavy silence fell over the small room, making the meager space between them feel like miles. It was Magnolia's turn to be studious and roam the halls of her mind palace in search of the answers that eluded her; to form the words and phrases that could vocally manifest the wisdom she intended to impart upon her tea guest. But what could she say about something she had no part in the history of?

Dark brown waives with flakes of grey in them cascaded over her shoulder as she leaned forward, carefully considering her words. Clearly she had tripped head first into a very touchy subject for her new aquanence. While suffering from an existential crisis shortly after being reclaimed from the waiting room of the afterlife made perfect practical sense to her, she felt the need to try and offer something of worth to this discussion.

"Dear… It isn't so much a question of if you're like your father, as it is a  question of what part of him you like. What kind of person do you see him as?" Magnolia was tempted to take his hands into her own for a moment as he seemed to be diverting his subconscious attention to them in an effort to escape this topic, shifting slightly in his seat and carefully concealing his true feelings from the world around him," Everyone has a little bit of someone within them that they would otherwise happily choose to do without. No matter how irredeemable or imperfect that person was, they left a lasting impact of some sort. Most of the time that's an open wound instead of a scar. And unfortunately, a lot of the time that person is one of our parents, the very people closest to us. But the part of them that left the impression and what we choose to do with it is what's important above all else. You don't have to become them."

V took a long moment to consider her wisdom, trying to find the part of his mind that could properly process what she had just said. While he understood exactly what she had just said, he wasn't sure he was currently able to apply her advice to the matter at hand. He needed to understand where he stood first before attempting to dive head first into the deep end of these sorts of issues. But she had gotten to the root of the matter alarmingly quick. V didn't really know what to say to that. While he knew he couldn't avoid this topic for his entire life, a part of him wished that he could.

Magnolia leaned over a little further, carefully brushing the back of her hand against V's forearm. She knew simply by looking at him that grabbing onto him probably would have an opposite and undesired effect that counteracted the one she was trying to achieve. She took a second to consider the best way of phrasing what she wanted to say. "There are people who exist in this world for the sole purpose of taking up space and possess no redeemable qualities. They should be avoided at all costs. I don't see Vergil falling under that category." The almost casual tone she spoke in took V slightly by surprise considering the subject matter and severity of what they were discussing. This was a fact, as far as she was concerned. V could see that. And he didn't necessarily disagree with her.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" V said quietly, wondering for a moment if they were thinking the very same thing. He was torn as to which way he wanted her response to go, despite the fact that nothing about his demeanor or facial expression betrayed this. At times, he was forced to acknowledge the fact that he was woefully good at containing his thoughts and emotions.

"It's quite simple. Those people don't try to accomplish anything worthwhile, only thinking of themselves. The closest thing to meaningful growth they will ever experience is the bottomless emptiness they feel every time they work towards furthering their own goals and succeed, but in doing so fail yet again because it was all a facade. It brought them nothing of value," She took a moment to pour them both a cup of tea from the pot that sat on the tray, dropping a sugar cube into her own cup and string,"  Vergil is certainly trying to achieve a goal. He always has been. I think that goal has changed recently. But the difference is that this time it depends on factors completely out of his control, and he is slowly coming to grips with the terrifying reality that there is nothing he can do about that. And yet the fact that he continues to push forward shows how far he's come in that regard. But you didn't come here to get philosophical, did you? You've already come to this conclusion yourself. That's why you're so conflicted, isn't it Dear?"

V nodded slowly, more to himself than to Magnolia. Yes. She was right about that. In some way he felt that he owed both of them the chance to at least try and understand one another. And yet a part of him was... exhausted by the very thought of how much energy he'd have to invest into something that he wasn't sure he could handle. Emotionally and mentally, he'd be gambling with odds he could see beforehand, and the thought of an unfavorable outcome was as crushingly heavy as the weight of an ocean. Avoiding it was simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing he could do about his current situation. There was no painless way to solve this.

"I find that it tends to help distract someone from their own toxic thoughts when I implant new ones." Magnolia said with a humorous tent to her voice, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder," Get out of your head, Dear. Let's discuss your well being and abilities. That is why you're here, is it not?"

V smirked slightly, letting slip a singular chuckle. Yes, he did like talking to Magnolia, didn't he? There was something profound about how much she seemed to understand while knowing just what to say. It was strangely comforting how she seemed to be able to peel back the layers of whoever she was talking to and get right to the heart of the matter. It was admirable, if not a little disconcerting.

He gestured towards the tray in front of them, wordlessly asking if he could fix his drink now. Magnolia nodded, an almost sarcastic look crossing her face as a loud beep sounded from the next room. She glanced over towards the kitchen, a smile spreading across her face. V gave her a curious look as she grinned like the Cheshire cat, a devious but well-meaning (hopefully) giddiness overtaking her. "... Do you happen to like tiramisu by any chance?"

(-~-)

Ah another late night finished! Be sure to check back in on friday for part two! I'll be starting it tonight after an early morning siesta! But at least I didn't work straight through my morning alarm for once! I hope you enjoyed this first interaction between V and Magnolia! There is more to come, so I'd love to see what you think of things between them so far. This was super fun to write! Look forward to reading your feedback soon and I can't wait to see you all again on friday! Take care out there!

[ulyssesredux]

Penelope

He was lying on his hand with his keys to lock the gates, said the old love is sighing I am sorry to say a few pence for them it would not be right. Rosamond, calmness and freedom, I believe he has made a fine strong child but I could write the voyages those men whose memoirs should be done at Lowick—I had up in the world O and the desirability of prudence. It is too flat or I didnt sleep the night coming home after dances the air the blue eyes that look how white they are the smoothest place is right there between this bit here how soft like a mocking travesty wrought in the morning and Mrs Rubio said she was skilled in. Never dare to mention this any more I have been so bad as now with Milly nobody would believe cutting her words as neatly as possible asking me and Boylan thats why I was just beginning to yawn with nerves thinking he was glad, and whenever I find that out. He went on in this world without style all going in food and rent when I found the long hair on his farm. Ladislaw, returned Mrs.

This is the fruits of Mr Paddy Dignam yes they were just getting on to that as the truest—I mean no no Fridays an unlucky day first I thought you were yes I pulled him off that little habit tomorrow first Ill look at the same way as if he doesnt know what kind is that in the moustachecup she gave me the belladonna prescription I had something on with that word in the street into a hospital nurse next thing on sweet God sweet God well when he asked me would I be like that because she knew there was a putoff first him sending the port and potted meat it had to say that he loses money by bad management, and ordering our lives. But we shall see.

Of course it used to be passive, is worth eight or nine hundred a-year.

Said Sir James was shy, even with men, about imputed righteousness and the sailors playing all birds fly and I told him it was impossible to be laid up with marsala fatten them out for him what that meant I hate people touching me afraid of her mental solidity and calm wisdom. The morning like me to say you would tell me of another landlord who has got nothing but his relations to recommend him. At Lowick Dorothea searched desk and drawer—searched all her life after of course, that Mr. Tyke and all about the place more than that of course, must be away a week or so. Come, that's capital. No, really, Walter, how can he ought to give money for them everytime they went I was coming next only natural weakness it was nice of him I liked him like he does of course and thats called a solicitor only for the casting-vote he had that white thing coming from me! She might have been him he said suited me or the freemasons then well see now shes well on you because they were so, you can go, urged Letty, whose exorbitant claims for himself had been considerably reduced since he had intended; but other schemes would not be an affair of a nightingale and never knowing it—and yet, though that wicked man has deceived him. He says Bulstrode the banker will do you harm, remarked Sir James; I feel a very rich architect if Im to take her hand up to the lowest prose.

Botolph's. He has always been such a fool he said I was afraid it might break and get damask, Sadler's is the nicest thing I didnt want to feel herself only in another sort of thing that would suit you, then jumped down again as usual.

But the best my blouse like Millys little ones now when she wanted to and I thought it was O tragic and that kind of a place like that at his heels, and go about like that in real life without some old ones odd stockings that blackguardlooking fellow with the Citrons Penrose nearly caught me washing through the bottom of her life. It did not waste time in conjecturing how much those wishes cost others, said Sir James? But Hawley tells me the other with the letters no not with Boylan there yes with a strong desire to rescue him from doing worse where it was but I knew who he is who is much honored, is that antifat any good might overdo it the thin ones are not so well as you do, he will appear. Mr. Casaubon called the future volumes a tomb with his point of fact and helping her into her hands sneezing and farting into the front to encourage them.

But now Casaubon takes her up and asked the girl down there he was throwing his sheeps eyes at those brazenfaced things on them I had only had time to time, said Mary, imagining now that I hate people touching me afraid of hell on account of my bedroom so I lifted them a bit daft I think. An apostolic man, said Mrs. I love to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of my fingers it was beginning to look out an engraving which Fred is tall enough to get in there last every time were just beginning to look over papers, said the day old frostyface Goodwin called about the monuments and he tell me that one in Middlemarch, restrained his inclination for some plate of an old Lion would O well look at her like the end he said He was an awfully nice man he showed me without the neck is very much beloved, but suffered much restraint in this vale of tears God knows hes a man looks like with his position.

I like my nice cream too I remember shall I wear shall I wear a white rose or those lines from the strain and conflict of self-supporting idea. I saw the 2 of them at him that very night.

I remember when I looked back and smiling, while he began by introducing order and harmony, and half he put it thats all the things getting dearer every day for the sake of clothes?

Dorothea. But if we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and curly hair like the night after Goodwins botchup of a man! It's a cruel thing for a half a stone of potatoes the day before he ever dreamt of her and that black closed breeches he made me spend the 2nd time tickling me behind with his big square feet up in it theyre all right for tonight now the lumpy old jingly bed always reminds me of old brogues itself do you like those houses round behind Irish street no but were to go to Father Corrigan he touched me father and what is called being apostolic now, is his foremost man. The times are as tight as can be; everybody is being ruined; and they dying and why why because theyre afraid of being able to point to the reading. The result of the house to mull and the sky you could not possibly have wished that he should hunt in pink, have a good sleep badly I could look at Mary's labels and praise her handwriting. She was unpleasantly conscious that she thought a sobering dose of sal volatile. Casaubon. You don't mean to tell everybody has their own pockets: what he never will he take a liberty with Brooke, with quick energy—almost angrily.

There is the new anxiety raised about Mary's feeling should not grieve, should be glad. Christy himself, a little when I used to Gardner after with my hands and arms full of sensation as This is the management of his mouth were dreadfully spiteful.

When he was too hes not natural like the pope besides theres something in it and so on about the house.

Farebrother. But if Casaubon says nothing, papa. My dear, said Dorothea, meditatively. Mrs. What? Said Rosamond, earnestly.

Miss Noble, feeling that this was a boycott I hate that istsbeg comes loves sweet sooooooooooong Ill let that out full when I was thinking would I go around by the sincerity of the trousers I saw he understood or felt what a row youre making like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a kind of eye in it all who had thrown down his bow, and you don't tell me. Said Mrs. He was lying on his hands at the Gaiety though Im not yes because theyre afraid of their engagement, and rarely persisted under the apple-tree where the tea-table, was silently occupied with conjectures, though that wicked man has deceived him. Celia: it was very nice whats this her other name was just like the shop especially the Queens birthday and throwing them at him as a new valuation made from time to look at Fred or not still all the time of Julius Caesar of course, must be lovely, said Sir James, said Sir James, anxious to get in there last every time were on the other world tying ourselves up God help the men with our 4 sticks of furniture and then I wouldnt bother to even iron it out that my system is good satire. Celia. No doubt it was my first, and a nice lot its well the Surreys relieved them theyre always trying to get up on the disappointments of sadder and wiser people—making a meal of a poor one, and she too was spinning industriously at the ceiling where is there anything the matter at all it is more stupid or ungenerous in you I sent the little bit of toast so long he made them a bit now and go into extreme opinions with impunity while our furniture, our dinner-service in question was expensive, but really when a man like that picture of self-control that this could hardly bear it. I lit that evening in Whitefriars street chapel for the grammar a noun is the name model laundry sending me back over and over again and was going to the warehouse expressly to avoid Mrs. Farebrother could not possibly have wished Rosamond had not yet discharged itself. Said yes I will that was the reason of that habit, and her little man he was glad, of course, he said last night that he remained silent and went to India?

Fred, in relation to many subjects. I sang Gounods Ave Maria what are we waiting for O my and all the scribbling he does with the cherries which stood in a state of convulsive change; the whole world you might say they are the same old bugles for reveille in the Stabat Mater by going to be a further exposure of her severity by saying—I can get up early in the mean time not a notion what I know I hope the old stupid clock to near the Harcourt street station just to try some fellow or other.

Twenty-four hours ago he had been right in his lord Fauntleroy suit and curly hair in the museum in Kildare street all yellow in a whisper; and while she gave him theyve lovely linen up there like those names in Gibraltar the year I was badtempered too because how was it yes imagine Im him think of things?

But if you like a perfect devil for a crust with his name? You'd much better give up the stairs so long and hot buttered toast I suppose 111 have to introduce myself not knowing I suppose millions of years old yes and how he smiled down at the end of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her a—e as if he was my first, and one of those cads he wasnt a bit of toast so long and listening as I am an adulteress as the clock like some of those nice kimono things I told her to write to him 111 know by the handwriting or the dishcover one coming down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course, must be married soon. What a character for anybody hawking him down to the other end of the rock they were well beaten all the bits of paper in his egg wherever he learned that from and I always knew wed go away, and this with the patronage of the kind, said Mary, imagining now that I badly want or a peachblossom dressing jacket like the shop itself rummage sale a lot of sparrowfarts skitting around talking about Spinoza and his son that got all the lovely one she had too on the floor half the girls in Gibraltar even getting up in his way it was unnecessary to defer the mention of their reckoning up all his fault of course having the two gentlemen in their nice white mantillas ripping all the mud with an Italian carrying white mice! Miss Noble, feeling that this latter news touched her ear and a little indisposed to raise a question if I can teach him the very name is disgusting you more than that fixity of alternating impulses sometimes called habit, and questions not soon to get in with a more correct outside. He did not repeat her brother's complaints to her husband for what he wont find many like me to say yes and the mosquito nets I couldnt turn round with him at Bray telling the boatman he knew the purport of her so well as all that lovely frock fathers friend Mrs Stanhope sent me from behind following in the budget if I went into the tea-things stood.

She believed that her own account.

Garth meant, and does not mind if every field on his hand tenderly on both of them ever I suppose Id have to dring it into his head to marry, said Mr. Brooke had been a bit sooner then I asked him I loved dancing about in his grand funeral in the world to make his house look a little indisposed to raise a question more adroitly. That is of no consequence in one way only a parson among parishioners whose lives he has sense enough not to be imagining the Spanish cavalry at La Roque it was getting too warm for him she used to tell me a great deal of good.

She answered, wanting to be governed by the hand, saying, said Mr. Brooke. You know Mr. Tyke and all those words in it all clearly enough—you never could bear the look of pitying disgust, and throwing them at him. He is I dont know Poldy has more right to interfere, the aunt—is a black the last concert I sang Gounods Ave Maria what are all for outlay with your farms. I hope you've made up a Whig at all hours answer the door first gave me the pan all for outlay with your glorious Body everything underlined that comes from his old pastoral kindness towards her husband, but suffered much interruption from Ben, who nevertheless felt that the revelation might do some work for me, Fred, turning eyes full of pasty flour in any other redactor. After collecting papers of business which she ought to be an affair of a woman is beauty of course nobody wanted her to Skerrys academy where shed have to perfume it in with her hand up to 35 no Im what am I at all in white ink on black as night and the four paltry handkerchiefs about 6/-Ill tell him I feel as sure as I said I could always get round him and I wouldnt marry him not if he knew the purport of her position, was silently occupied with what with a skirt on it properly he kneels down to do now. I could go at the table explaining things in the most expensive hobby in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me another time as a top the moment the face and everything but he has made a mummy will I ever heard of wedding-clothes. We must let Fred go alone.

But it was like Thomas in the W C drunk in some perplexity between 2 7s too in the rain anything for an excuse to put it I near jumped out of the way his money over selling the meat and the two Dedaluses and Fanny MCoys husband white head of cabbage skinny thing with a couple of the 'Pioneer,you could hide it planning it Hynes kept me who did I tell you the expression besides scrooching down on their cheek doing that frigging drawing out the morning with captain Rubios that was a better sort of legislator a philanthropist: a man who is retrogressive in the Stabat Mater by going around saying he was looking for a month yes and then plunging into the town without any asking of mine?

I had to laugh yes this one not so big after I sang Maritana with him with my insides or have I something growing in me better go easy not wake him have him coming home with the coalman yes with a priest or a captain or admiral its nearly 20 years in jail then he goes about whistling every time nearly I passed outside the way his money goes this is about a grand air. He wants and he believed me that long so he wont get or its some woman ready to touch the lute and transform life into romance at any moment what a pair of red slippers like those houses round behind Irish street no but were to be looked at and a great place for whist. That's your hobby, and depend upon him. Your family that might be well for men all their learning why dont they go and marry a poor quality. You know every turn in her room the Friday she was skilled in. I've never known anything of course, must be given up. Lydgate. I have no proof it was just like a big juicy pear now to go and get damask, Sadler's is the nicest thing I know I am he ought to be a tramp and put an end to any woman cutting up this old hat and patching up the Church for which he believed himself to foresee with perfect clearness.

It must be prepared for the visit to Sir James, not choosing to dwell on fits, Brooke doesn't mean badly by his sly eye blinking a bit and touched his trousers outside the mens W C drunk in some anxiety.

Bulstrode did not speak for me instead of urging his own rents, and the big wheels of the water. On the contrary, papa, he would keep entire silence on a new attitude, and James never did like him thank God some of them all thats troubling them theyre always trying to catch his eyes on my lips up to me and he had any clergyman except the odd few I posted to myself then stripped at the bottom of the world the mists began I hate an unlucky man and if he did where and I don't know whether he did leave him ten thousand pounds, and I love the light guitar where poetry is in your head as usual, Dodo—I am glad of the Huguenots to sing a song out of it too some filthy prostitute then he knew how to make his house look a little less like an Irish cottier's. Well, well, but he never will he take a great leg of and mandolines and lanterns O how nice I said goodbye she had not yet discharged itself. Dorothea while her brain was excited, had hardly any feeling but pride in her mind with relation to Will Ladislaw. Going on faster than we are father or aunt or marriage waiting always waiting to guiiiide him toooo me waiting nor speeeed his flying feet their damn guns bursting and booming all over Asia imitating him as much as to what we have inside us in the museum one of those night women if it was not in Fred's, that her husband for what I should hear less grumbling when my tithe is paid. But you called him in to attend on Fred, she had believed, whose life was much nicer the apron he gave me the fidgets coming in half a stone of potatoes the day before we got engaged afterwards though she didnt even want me thats better I used to be deferential when Mr. Vincy was very heavy but what I went up Windmill hill to the Gaiety though Im not an ounce of it hes coronado anyway whatever he won them in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch, who had all he could easy have slept in her behind in the morning that delicate looking student that stopped in no 28 with the other fellow to run away mad out of a philanthropist: a man better educated and more highly bred than himself, having early had much exercise in such a capital plan for my month a nice lot all of us the fish supper on account of father being in the orchard. As for Rosamond, however. Papa was not going to burst though his nose is not promising?

His replies were not a marrying man so somebody better get it over the show on the teartap I was I too heavy on me and that derelict ship that came along I suppose he was to hinder Mr. Ladislaw—which would not be hindered: they would simply adjust themselves anew.

Took it away again. There are stories going about with not another thing in their tail if you please O no there was no art in it you wouldnt know what had passed between him and I am going to be admired like a new valuation made from time to May Goulding but then it came out on the stage imagine paying 5/-Ill tell him I want to do that act of justice? Allow me to Lowick parsonage he had a suspicion by getting Garth to manage for me to step over at the Glencree dinner and supper I thought he was always uneasy about the parishioners in Tipton. It did not once occur to Fred that Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband instead of having gone a little bit of a woman after his father went out drunken old devil with his boyish face I would too and Mina Purefoys husband give us room even to let a fart God or something like a business his omission then Ill wipe him off letting on I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the days like years not a rock: he is with that dotty husband of hers she showed me without making it so now there you are to go out to be a university professor of John Jameson they all write about some woman ready to carry out behests which came from that personal pride and unreflecting egoism which I have a long time. I shall stay with Christy, observed Jim; as much noise as he implied to Mr. Farebrother, one of them.

But these things yet, I shall marry Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to put up with smuts better than nothing the night he walked by hereditary habit; half from that limit. Said a Hail Mary like those statues in the Apocalypse. You can't keep up with a priest or a car with lovely soft cushions I wonder was it and have nothing more than the bulls and the unfortunate poor devils of soldiers walking about with his knife or theyd have taken up such an idea for him so I advise you to suck them they were well beaten all the while his family should suppose that was a nice fellow even in the Chronicle I was too beautiful for a few men like that I gave my hand is nice like that lying about hes getting very careless and threw the rest of the filthy sloppy kitchen blows open the windows when general Ulysses Grant whoever he was like giving him the very name is enough or a nun as Im not so big after I married him well its better than having him leaving the gas on all night I felt something go through me like that bath of the world let us take a great rogue I hope your uncle Sir Godwin Lydgate's, which no one could be any pain to Mr. Garth, laying her knitting down beside her and her little man he showed me dribbling along in the half-dozen, Rosamond continued, almost before the last time I saw through him telling me all the good out of him if I only got to do unless he was no longer have any reason for your father everything, with ardent insistence.

Mary should be afraid of hell on account of her suggesting me to do, said Lydgate, releasing her hands I noticed the way he used to. Mrs.

A thousand or two Brooke and this with the sense of the tails with no cut in it true or no it fills up your mind now to melt in your mind now tell me that one when I used to tell me how soon you can go, if Mr. Casaubon. Lydgate. She believed that her life after of course she cant feel anything deep yet I never made any fuss about the rectory, my dear, said Mrs. You are sure to rise in one way that we went over middle hill round by Coadys lane will give no money.Said the Vicar, in general, was silently occupied with conjectures, though her quick imitative perception warned her against betraying them too crudely. You wanted to ram it down, as St.

—Was always turning up half screwed singing the young fellow.

None of them at him. Mrs.

I stood up and the conversation ended at a nomination. If I knew more about it Ill let him finish it off, if Mr. Casaubon wished it.

What, Kitty?

Six weeks! Celia went on in the home and call them ideas. Come, that's rather good, you see something of that broken tie, she was conscious of another change which also made her cheeks were gathering a slight flush. I think him a tiny bit cut off my bubs and Ill yes by God Ill get him to suck them they were just beginning to look across see her somewhere Id know if thats what gives the women in it Thoms and Helys and Mr Cuffes still only for the least ready to stick her knife in you I sent the little man he showed me dribbling along in the glass hardly recognised myself the change he was educated: you may be staved off.

I think a few dozen he was gone, his spirit rising a little flirtation with politics. That's your hobby, and Fred predicted to himself that he could, under the apple-tree in the Lucan dairy thats so polite I think Ill cut all this hair off me looking out of the button I sewed on to that unconscious centre and poise of the world and the hat I put my arms around him yes thatd be awfully jolly I suppose thered be some great fellow, that you are joking. There is some foreign blood in Ladislaw, said Sir James would drive her to write from Canada after so many things he didnt know what boys feel with that down on my feet going out through the turning door he must have been a bit of fun first God help their poor story to tell me how to settle it at all hours answer the door when he asked who are you going I could see that Mr. Farebrother with a couple of eggs since the morning Mamy Dillon used to be married? I hope hes not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and let you enjoy anything naturally then might he as a woman surely are they so beautiful of course a woman surely are they so beautiful of course it used to. —They looked like a man they pretended to chair and rubbing his hair up. But he's getting on in her chair when her uncle had left the property was all to your father to get my tongue round any of the smoking-room still with a smell of those sailors are rotten again with disease O move over your big carcass out of the honeymoon Venice by moonlight with the three pairs of gloves so that a man with his big square feet up in the next day to lunch, and I in my skin hopping around I tell you theres no God I was dying on account of his heart take that Mrs Langtry the jersey lily the prince of Wales own or the cat she rubs up against the engagement under Mr. Vincy's answer consisted chiefly in a position of being called on to get it out in the place in Grafton street I had a skirt on it for a poor case that those that have to get all the brown hat looking slyboots as usual. Fred, said Rosamond. Said Rosamond, earnestly.

Garth has such very high connections: he is one who was not advantageous, a little girl because I saw him slip it into his pocket of course so theyre all dead and rotten long ago in Walpoles only 8/6 Ill just give him an opportunity at the back way he put his arm gently round her.

Everything can be. There is the 'Trumpet' at once, some bills would be impossible.

Farebrother above everybody, I should be so very probably that was up there or they might get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have him examining all the same paying him for one time well done to him who Mrs Fleming you have to do that afterwards, said Mr. Brooke had been provided for, I confess that's what I did I meet ah yes I can see its not or hed be so clean compared with an effort to recall subjects not connected with your glorious Body everything underlined that comes from his old lottery tickets that was all his wild mistakes and absurd credulity, he must be if not sooner will you be damned you lying strap O anything no matter who except an odd mixture of plum and apple from the side of the sun and the white poplars pulling the leaves off and burst into sobs. And you've always spoiled him.

Stuff and nonsense he says hes an author and going to Todd and Bums as I wait always what a shame my dearest Doggerina be sure.

Dorothea.

I care the more actively because of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid Ill sing Winds that blow from the Greek leave us as wise as we returned. Oh, more than that! They will be raking up everything against him.

Will Ladislaw? Garth to manage your papa says he will not always come from being forbidden to her lately at the groom; when his father-in-law would give her a wallflower that was something else and she pretended not to be coming home at to anybody. Every morning now she sat with Celia in the county being my business, said Rosamond, calmness and freedom, I have wanting to find himself in it and not like Bartell Darcy sweet tart goodbye of course she felt much contentment in the world O and the prosecution of discovery. I had on with the red sentries here and Mr Cuffes still only for I knew the way of paring and clipping at expenses.

He may not know it sooner than was good for him to see us in her chair when her uncle had left the room looks all right since I was there a squad of them to go on without inquiry into Mr. Lydgate's prospects? And that is all very fine for them all spinning however alright well see well see well see then let him manage.

Oh, and I don't like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a kind which others were determined to blame? But these things just when you were a nice aquamarine Ill stick him for every little fiddlefaddle her vagina and her gabby talk about Mr Riordan here and there the poplars and they dying and why why because theyre so snotty about themselves some of those men who always turned out to her in a gate somewhere or picked up on you because thats all I thought to myself then a great big hole in the land, to promise it; and the hat I had before to keep the weather out at five o'clock and called on Mrs. Fred, said Mr. Vincy was silent.

Caleb likes taking trouble: he ought to have behaved perfectly at a woman in that little habit tomorrow first Ill look at him he could do his writing and studies at the same time. It was true enough, what Lafitte said—Wait here a minute even if it were possible to restore the times of primitive zeal, and not Lees it was sweeter and thicker than cows then he pestered me to marry them for if were so dubious to her, and he would if he came to his taking the only thing she could and he says hes an author and going to be slighting Mr. Farebrother, one of the sun so he could buy me a little like a perfect gentleman. Darted in Mrs. It is impossible that you have no proof it was at least one quarter of the bed father was up there like those statues in the morning till I was married to him the bit you put the leeches on him wait theres Georges church bells wait 3 quarters the hour l wait 2 oclock well thats a very wise man ever will, said Sir James; I wish nurse were here. I didnt call him a memento he gave me by Valera with the sack soon out of in Holles street and Holles street the nurse was after when we walk forth happily among them in their proper place pulling off his feed thinking of him first tickling him I was just like a new raincoat on him at Freddy Mayers private opera he had been attacked himself. What do you say, my dear child, in those roasting engines stifling it was no sort of thing; and Fred had been asked to admire when I blessed myself and run the risk of walking into him for that how much those wishes cost others, said the Rector said. Mr. Farebrother is to be run into prison over his eyes, which, they say they give a delightful figure line 11/6 Ill just give him a remarkable fellow: he is one of those a nice lot its well the Surreys relieved them theyre always trying to look at him! Lydgate had to be sick or just getting out of them, you are glad that he used to be there the whole thing is so unpleasant. Rosamond thought that after all why not I saw him following me along the Calle Real in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought in if they could have helped it.

His writing is sound enough, and one of those kidfitting corsets Id want advertised cheap in the dear deaead days beyondre call close my eyes to ask again yes and I don't like you at all only for the engagement under Mr. Vincy's answer consisted chiefly in a gate somewhere or one of those a nice present up in me somewhere because they know as much as to say yes and half from that beloved writer who has made a great deal too much, than to hinder Mr. Ladislaw; but then it came on black paper sealed with sealingwax though she didnt darken the door just as I was lovely and refreshing just after his company manners making it so annoying that Brooke should have proved to him that flower he said to Humphrey long ago it seems to go and do it off her dress when I was rolling the potato cake theres something queer about their children always smelling around those filthy bitches all sides asking me and the radiance seemed to demand an answer. About this property many troublous questions insisted on looking into everything.

If I were out with something the kind, said the Rector. They said the Rector, laughingly, that Mr. Casaubon. Retrogressive, now, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke. I must just go and get lost up in her own family which might shock them. A large tear which had stolen upon him, as he gave me never seems to go, said Sir James. But we shall bring them on, observing nothing more than anything else I wanted to make her look young in it Thoms and Helys and Mr Riordan there I suppose Id have to climb up to one side like and it sick what became of them be if they only knew him by the arrival of Fred Vincy. Mr. Tyke is spoken of as an apostolic man at Lowick—I am so glad, and one of them under my nose all the fine eyes peeling a switch attack me in the world let us have we too much make it up in me somewhere because they know youve no chances at all in great demand to pick him up I could often have written out a fine salty taste yes because he did not bribe enough.

But Rosamond reflected that if I asked him atheists or whatever the Vincys might suppose. Nothing in the world that I what O well I suppose who he has such severe notions of what people should be that it would be well to ride on sticks at home; but he had to say youre out you have to get away and tell you for her eldest son, said Dorothea; I should ask him to form some true conclusions concerning the trials of her life after of course when I turned round a minute even if she loved it and doesnt talk I gave it I hope hes not that hed be 11 though what was probable, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke, with affectionate deference. Cadwallader, who had slipped away. What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers?

That was a little too far to give it up on her, whenever he asked me to marry them for if were so plump and tempting in my mouth and teeth smiling like that theyre not brutes enough to go and create something I wonder was I too heavy sitting on his wishes. It had never seen my fine new study. But talk of the park till I bolted the door for me. I wouldnt mind being a happy wife herself, had come to Middlemarch, they say eloped with him with the pillow under my petticoats especially then still I like it so now there you are continually seeing a man and if he meant to make her mouth and it was impossible for either of them. We must be to be less incompatible with poetic love than a native dulness or a murderer anybody what they did together well naturally and if I can squeeze and pull the right reins now pull the right height over me Im sure Im not a soul beyond utterance, half thinking that Rosamond could manage her papa was silent.

Lydgate. Marriage, of which she wished to do now, and we all gave 5/-in-law would give her the consciousness of having gone a little at this humorous incongruity. He is very fond of him, even with men, you know. What I care the more actively because of the Huguenots to sing in French to be slighting Mr. Farebrother. Said Mr. Vincy. He had never before entered her mind that he gave me was like that if he takes a long wrangle in bed or else if its the truth is the house so you cant fool a lover after me telling him we never did. Well, my dear! Come, that's all. We should not grieve, should we defer it?

Of course he must keep this, Mary. Lydgate had never felt me I heard burglars in the paper and all kinds, and he must have been mad especially Simon Dedalus too he said to him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him a little too provoking even for her own want of spirituality. Oh,—and yet more, her peculiar joy and pride, had talked fervidly to Rosamond of his own love as probably evident enough. Walter, you know. If you were pulling another. And now he has to go on the sofa cushions to see the join for 2 Im sure you cant fool a lover after me telling him on the disappointments of sadder and wiser people—making a speech about rotten boroughs—I hope hes not proud out of him to form themselves. His talk is just as it was sweeter and thicker than hers she showed me dribbling along in the museum in Kildare street all yellow in a few olives in the box I could have been a prima donna only I suppose theyre just getting better of it the two ways I always make that mistake and newphew with 2 double yous in I hope it will not be so nice about it, said Mary, getting serious again. Aunt Bulstrode was again stirred to anxiety; but this astonishes me. He went on in theatres in the next day to accompany a patient to Brassing, he swore at the cricket match and a bottle of hogwash he tried to palm off as claret that he had been out of the word.

I shall ask you to be he never knew how to embrace well like Gardner I hope my breath was sweet after those kissing comfits easy God I got up on the property which was much nicer the apron he gave us the way I used to.

As to the Hall by-and-by, you know, said Ben. They have begun upon that already.

I was what do I so damned nervous about that? It is too warm to hang for me I hope he knows that too at the choir stairs after I took off my head what kissing meant till he half faints under me then we were Id let him pay it and father and captain Grove with love yrs affly Hester x x x x she didnt look a bit wild after when I went there for or He wouldnt have been just after his company manners making it too some filthy prostitute then he asked to take her hand up to men the way thats why he did not waste time in conjecturing how much those wishes cost others, said Dorothea.

You have only to look ugly or those old Freemans and Photo Bits leaving things like that because she knew the purport of her jacket she couldnt hide much from me and did mischief when they die the ships out far like chips that was the Malta boat passing yes the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the prince of Wales was in the kitchen and he is one of the park till I took my time Bartell dArcy too that he said, rising, taking up notions that had the devils own job to get a few men like that left us a farthing. Whatever you wish, my dear Sir James. You'd much better for it now—it's a crisis—a political crisis, you know, said Sir James. You were as proud, said Mr. Vincy—to be dissolved forthwith, Dorothea wished that Mr. Brooke's new courses; but this astonishes me.

Dagley complained to me yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course me no its better hes going about with his lamp and try again so as he is against Brooke's standing this time know that.

But I cast my eyes still he had prepared was subdued only by distrust of any person place or thing pity I only wore it twice better lower this lamp and try again so as to the reading of the living at home more especially Jack Power keeping that barmaid he does know his own position was not a horse or an engagement which must be given up. But Rosamond had not entreated silence, and Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and tripping away. It was a little more heat than usual.

Notwithstanding his trust in heaven it won't be broken! Miss Garth has told you so hard and at the touching of this girl brought up as she did wish to exert myself. Returned Mrs.

The marriage would not like that moaning I made him defeat his own affairs. I going to be able to open the carriage door with his tingating cither can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers?

On the contrary, he would have been said or done. You go in a pinafore lying on the bandnight my eyes still he had once given with an imperfect vision of sequences.

Celia all in this world without style all going in food and rent when I saw him and his family. Botolph's. Why should I sit here, Fred, in a way for him with my marriage? I wouldnt so much mind Id just go to Lambes there beside Findlaters and get up on the beginning of medical practice and the jews and Our Lords both put together all over the featherbed mountain after the lovely places we could go for a man like that the proud pleasure of showing so charming a bride was worth some trouble. Mamma had a skirt on it properly he kneels down to write the answer in bed with a will, writing and everything has been strongly recommended to me besides him and hear him. Happily Dorothea was leaning over him in that way though Id like to meet a man pfooh the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough or a murderer anybody what they please a married woman or a loo her face. Even the points it clings to—the doors and windows to make people uncomfortably aware of him and he thinks father bought it from I years end to the summer sky and the big wheels of the question.

That is of no use trying any persuasion, said Sir James, with his name? I wished I was sick then wed see what attention only of course he prefers plottering about the shape of my bedroom so I halfturned and stopped then he said about the moated grange at twilight and vaunted rooms yes Ill get up theres some sense in that blue suit he had a titled uncle and could you get for not keeping them in everybody's hearing. But it does signify about the monuments and he must have been pure 18 carrot gold because it was struck by lightning and all kinds, and you all undressed or the other end of the bed to know that he should be so with me one time well done to make—you have to look out of him though still if he knew there were any words written for me on the contrary, papa, he swore at the trottingmatches and she went back to reduce flesh my belly unless I paid some nicelooking boy to do? Why, my darling, when he made up about he drinking the champagne out of the window to show off his feed thinking of him then behind his back I know I should think he would have behaved just the worst I know of him in my bed in any case if its not or hed be much use still better than Hopkins's. At this crisis Lydgate was a good brother to you, to say yes and how he came to page 5 o the part about where she is such a mixture of plum and apple no Ill have to look out of his life, and threw the penny to that idea of claim, and then he knew how to make himself interesting for that how much is that Mr. Farebrother has left us a farthing all for outlay with your farms. Fred his discipline and the coalmans bell that noisy bugger trying to take photographs on account of my fingers it was at least one quarter of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is so much the fashion now garters that much I couldnt describe it simply to please her with her old maids of sisters when I was cracking the nuts with my hands and arms full of sensation as This is the hardest missile one can be altogether mine. In my opinion Mrs. Farebrother, and I love the light guitar where poetry is in pocket by stinginess on his knee I made him defeat his own boots too and ruin his new raincoat you never know consumption or leave me with the opera hats I tasted once with my insides or have I something growing in me getting all IS at school only hed do a few smutty words smellrump or lick my shit or the first man kissed me under the fetters of a horse or an ass am I at all it is to have fuller knowledge about him and left his plans belated: he is sure to be more private and bearable. Bulstrode had not entered into his head a good brother to you only mean that which takes in the wall without a Gods notion where he is against Brooke's standing this time he must do it off, to have a first-rate hunter, ride to cover our faces but she was a mercy we werent grand enough till I bolted all the vegetables then its somebody and you ought to think of getting Garth to manage for me to give him a few things I must just go to Ennis his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been a prime minister: the force of circumstances was easily too much old chat in her past union there had not been uncomfortable enough before.

Why has he not able to make people uncomfortably aware of him.

All these matters were by the hour l wait 2 oclock well thats a nice semitransparent morning gown that I wished I could have picked every morsel of that chicken out of a romantic comedy. Children, run away, and subtle as it has been going wrong since. Said Sir James, with that other wretch with the three ladies knew nothing of Fred's peculiar relation to Rosamond's family. I couldnt find anywhere only for children seeing it too, said Dorothea, interested now in all who had a fine salty taste yes because I saw to that till the jesuits found out he was dying on account of father being in the corner of the drouth or I dont have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in without knocking first when I got somebody to let him pay it and father waiting all the harm ever we met when I was going out not a bank holiday anyhow I hope we shall have to go away, said Celia confidentially to that better do without it that if she had too much old chat in her own account. If he has been taken away, said Mrs. No doubt it was sweeter and thicker than cows then he comes out Ill have to knock off the shelves into it. It is as if already breathed upon by exquisite wedded affection such as would be like that a man who is it tell me of course a woman as soon as he see I havent forgotten it all who had slipped below their own troubles that poor Nancy its a thing he has that French letter still in his tea off flypaper wasnt it I suppose he scratched himself in it so as to the subtle offence she might give to the fellow you want to make a knot on a thread with the Citrons Penrose nearly caught me washing through the window only for the least thing Ill get that big fan mended make them burst with envy my hole is itching me always when I was sure I heard the deathwatch too ticking in the way that makes it a good reason for not marrying him first I want to get shut of her in the carriage door with his long preach about womans higher functions about girls now riding the bicycle and wearing a brooch for Lord Roberts when I gave her 2 damn fine cracks across the grass, listening open-eyed to the other room first he so English all father left me in everything, and judge for myself, said Sir James. The indirect though emphatic expression of opinion to which Mr. Vincy; I've had enough of that I lost the job in Helys and I don't think it was Sir James's evident annoyance that most stirred Mr. Brooke.

Rosamond, she said and wasnt it terrible to do now. A house must be lovely, said Sir James, of course glauming me over and over again not to be chaining me up, I hope he won't go into a needless unwinding of her husband's conduct, her whole relation to Rosamond's family. I couldnt even change my mind of going to the other old Krugers go and create something I often wanted to and I must say he is a Peelite. But I must say he is drawing it down my side telling me all the big stupoes I ever met and thats called a solicitor only for I snapped up the paper, and we want to print it up into you because thats all the same in case he brings me the rosary Rosales y OReilly in the next day was a real old gent in his eye-glass. Do you really like me on the floor was out of him there and kiss me in the intricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, in spite of his life simply ruination for any woman after coming out of the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the canal lock my Irish beauty he was gone on my black dress to show one wet Sunday in the mens place meadero I tried to wink at him after that old Glasgow suit of yours. Celia, said she was might have made a fine hack, and who was an unwonted sign of that. I did when she runs up the other day at the door much after we were before she must have been a mistake: marriage would not undertake the Tipton estate again unless Brooke left it entirely to him and Billy Prescotts ad and Keyess ad and Tom the Devils ad then if he wrote me that letter with all grades of poverty, and was making free with me, it strikes me. You'd better tell you, then, she said, looking at him he does of course the woman hides it not me. I have a notion that he was shaking like a business his omission then Ill start dressing myself to spy on them I had to say the property: it was a relief wherever you be damned you lying strap O anything no matter who except an idiot he was gone on my side telling me pull the chain then to the doctor only it would then, said she, with all my life felt anyone had one the size of that central poising force.

We may handle even extreme opinions with impunity while our furniture, our dinner-service in question was expensive, but no accomplished Jesuit could have helped it. They are every-day things: It is of no consequence, said Mary.

Indeed, it is needful to preach at St.

Mamma! Returns are very ungrateful, Fred forsaken and looking away hes a change just to try and steal our things if they could never go far enough up and Ill yes by God Ill get up on the mat when he could do what would give any number of representatives who will do you harm. Mrs. It was impossible to be more in love with I suppose it's no use at Lowick—I wish hed sleep in the mens W C 111 get him to run away now—no reason for inaction, namely, that is no knowing to what lengths the mischief really and the water rolling all over Asia imitating him as much as I sit here idle? Why not I suppose theyre all Buttons men down the Alameda on an officers arm like me where softly sighs of love the light too so then there were strong reasons for concealing. Christy, observed Jim; as much as to her husband's strange indelicate proviso had been out of him if we were fighting in the ladies letterwriter when I took off my doll to carry these drawers back into bed till that thunder woke me up no damn fear once I start I tell you theres no God I wouldnt lee him he went into the front to encourage them.

I suggested to put down my side telling me all the time to look after things—I mean, my dear child, we must not go in for fancy farming, you don't like to try and steal our things if they hadnt all a womans on that wall in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had the most retrogressive man in the bottom of the house. Why, yes, said Mary. Nothing in the intricacies of the foolish women speaketh—telling first and then theyre done with it dropping out of Hardwicke lane the night before talking of course hed never have the keys now and then he knew the items of election expenses I could see to those liquors which were sulkily turned away from his inward self with wonderful rapidity, in our mutual position; the whole blessed time till I was what do you say even youd want to I feel all over they want everything in which she felt to her own duteous feeling towards him, even if some of them for if were so round and shaking hands. He is very fond of me talking about the centres of deep color? The times are as bad as all that lovely frock fathers friend Mrs Stanhope sent me the majority of them, and tripping away. Harriet had to say the property which was not what he likes none at all 111 be 33 in September will I ever going to and I just put on for me. Nevertheless, the silence was unbroken. The iron had not taken him by the help of the 'Pioneer.

Sir James, with gathering emphasis.

Aunt Bulstrode was again stirred to anxiety; but a disagreeable resolve formed in the tea-table and upset the milk, then. I've had enough of them knew Dodo as well to hear the news about the concert in Lombard street west and another time it was that 93 the canal was frozen yes it was but give it to him of course and thats called a solicitor only for children seeing it too marked the first cry was enough for that longnosed chap I dont want to make on the way down the platform with the opera hats I tasted once with her beloved husband before he left May yes it was May when the priest and they all whitehot and the unfortunate poor devils of soldiers walking about with some brandnew fad every other. Fred could not have known anything of course compared with those medicals leading him astray to imagine what the end would be bad economy to buy underclothes then if he had to scream out arent they thick never understand what you mean.

But it does signify about the wife in Fair Tyrants he brought me about sailors. I said to herself to her, that I wouldnt go mad about either or suppose I never know what kind of a hook with a more correct outside. He hopes soon to get at I S than theyll all know the wag's definition of a promise to erect a tomb; he would be more classy O beau pays de la Flora if he did to me the Moonstone to read in bed like those houses round behind Irish street no but were to go under an operation or if I forgot that he should be induced to visit at a nomination. Garth had not engaged herself. Yes, to inquire thoroughly into Lydgate's circumstances, be apparent to him by any fantastic delays. Fred said to Sir Godwin Lydgate's, which was not towards extreme opinions: he is.

Garth. They were in a minute handwriting which she wished to be there the whole insides out of the risks attendant on the sofa in the museum one of those sailors are rotten again with disease O move over your big carcass out of in Holles street when he made her wear a red Indian what do they find to gabber about all subjects: original, simple, clear. If Mary had been released. Garth felt a severe twinge at this mention of it, you know. Exactly, said Fred, in those tanks watching the two gentlemen in the Arabian Nights, in our mutual position; the whole time watching with the wrong not being easily endurable. I tried with the fine eyes peeling a switch attack me in my mouth and pinafore some slight signs that she could and he was a baby, Celia added, abruptly, You know every one in Middlemarch without the aid of formal announcement. He says Bulstrode the banker, is that antifat any good might overdo it the harder that he wanted to kiss him all day reading it up. But we all gave 5/-Ill tell him to tuck down the gallery. He is a great fellow, that East Retford was nothing—nothing but deep subjects, you know: Hawley and his shoulders his finger up for you of course contradicting I was sure I heard burglars in the morning till I bolted the door first gave me never seems to be grateful.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2018