#trying to stop the past but just repeating it my beloved-detested

[domsaysstuff]

Season 2 of Russian Doll Steve Harrington-centric au

I have only some vague plot and just some scenes from the show down but I'll probably never write this and I need to get this out of my head so here we go! Another Dom's au idea dump! (I missed them)

Season 4 never happened btw but 1 through 3 did, also Eddie Munson never existed in Hawkins in this AU

Steve's mother is dying, Steve's mother is dying and he wishes he could feel something other than anger about it, he wishes he could be sad because his mother is dying but she hasn't really been a mother for him for a long time now

But she's dying and Steve still feels like the lanky teenager that observed and analyzed every breath of Cynthia Harrington to know why she hasn't loved him, or moreso why she loved him and yet it wasn't enough for her to care about him

He just wishes he had something to mourn a relationship that never was

She is dying and she's reaching out to Stevie after years of not talking after he packed his bags and moved with Robin to Chicago and haven't looked back since then

She wants him to come and he thinks it's cruel of her to want him there when all she's going to do is left him one last time

He is debating with himself whether to return to Hawkins or not when he takes his morning train to work

And that's when the time fuckery starts, he like Nadia becomes his mother(because we are keeping the gender fuckery that was Alan becoming his grandmother, like Stevie is just gender™ like that) who is very much pregnant, the baby is obvs him, unborn yet and they are in New York or some big city like that (for pain it could be Chicago and maybe Steve never knew she was born in Chicago, that somehow he followed in her footsteps) because Cynthia has always been a big city girl, it was Richard Harrington that wanted to move to Hawkins, to settle down there

When he figures it out he tries to change his fate, he thinks he is here to fix things, to give himself and his mother better life, one where she was happy, one where she maybe loved him enough to care

He knows he needs to leave, he packs her bags and tries to escape by taking the train and it just takes him back

He comes back to his apartment with Robin and spills everything to her, they have survived shit™ so she believes him, but tells him to not mess with time shit but he's determined that he can just fix it, fix everything

So he goes back and finds out that Cynthia is still with her parents, still to be married to Richard, he founds out that the escape did happen but she returned when she realized she was with a baby, has no money, no other people than her family that is pushing her to marry Richard since she is already carrying his child and she's so young, barely eighteen

She chicken out, so he tries other means and somehow somewhere there as his mother he falls for Eddie Munson, Eddie who he never heard of, Eddie who his mother never spoken a word of (his mother hasn't told him many things)

So he falls for Eddie because Eddie is so kind and free and different and he loves him, god he loves him, learns about his mother's past and it's all doomed anyway because the problem of Cynthia Harrington was that she was doomed from her birth and it's the same shit as in the show that every decision that Steve makes doesn't matter, they end up exactly the same anyway

Side plot is Robin taking the train and becoming her grandma and learning her grandma was the same as her, that she was queer, that she fell in love with Vickie, she falls in love with Vickie and it's a doomed romance, she comes back to her present time and learns that Vickie died just two years after Robin/her grandma met her and she tries to prevent that, she thinks she is there to prevent that, in the end she can't, in the end Vickie dies and Robin loved her god she loved her so much

There are obvs intermissions where Stevie and Robin are in the present together and talk and scheme and try to make it all right

Stevie like Nadia steals himself as a baby because he thinks he can raise himself better, that he and Robin can do a better job and the scene where Nadia gives Alan the baby-her and says think of all the things i could be if i was raised with love and as Robin holds baby-him "just what i was talking about" because Robin loves him and he knows she will love baby-him

Also maybe the rest of the party come to Chicago at some point because they heard the news and are there to support Steve and are sucked into the chaos but also meet a random baby and as Steve sees baby-himself surrounded by the party who even tho question from where the fuck did Robin and Steve have gotten a baby are taking care of it anyway

It's just- Steve finally learning his mother, gaining knowledge why she's like that, how she was before him, that him and her are quite similar, that they both loved Eddie Munson and lost him and it will hurt them for the rest of their life, Stevie coming back to Hawkins to say goodbye to his mom

Because he wouldn't chose her to be his mother but that's how the story goes and he knows her and understands her now and they both deserve to say goodbye

[snifflesthemouse]

There's a sense of freedom that comes with anonymity of online interactions. This sense of freedom only exists because of the fact it's difficult for the real world to catch up with you in your real life. Unless of course, you go after the wrong one.

When a person goes after someone else solely because they think differently or have a strong opposing opinion, they often do so with a false gusto and bravery that only exists in the virtual realm. Like many say online, "You'd never say that to my face." And that's true for most people... but not all people.

And because of this anonymity, that affords all internet users the freedom to say whatever, a real life concern spawns from a virtual world. This real life concern is often referred to as "doxxing" where one internet user uses what clues and resources they have available to "expose" another internet user's real life. This has happened to many people I watch on YouTube. Some have even had to involve the real life police, as well as uproot their entire lives and move because of doxxing.

For example, Murky Meg has been doxxed a couple times now. She's had her real life threatened by doxxing. Terrifyingly, she wasn't the only target threatened because the douche flutes also brought her children into it. Yes, the same people who worship the Montecito Madam and preach the mantras of "compassion and kindness" and "leave children out of this" have gone so far as to go after Murky Meg's real life and real life children. And sadly, the threats and attacks never really stop. Especially when articles like the one I wrote about make the rounds. But Murky Meg doesn't allow this all to silence her; she keeps calm and carries on regardless.

Another example involves Yankee Wally. She was targeted repeatedly over copyright infringement on her YouTube channel, as well as having her social media accounts suspended repeatedly over the last few years. And even though Yankee Wally has never pretended to be anything or anyone else than who she is in real life, people have attempted to use her past as a weapon to discredit her. Those attempts are futile, though, because Yankee Wally has always been open and honest about her life. She's also been very clear to the people watching her that she will fight back if need be.

Then there's According2Taz. While Taz has gone through the same ringer that so many others have gone through (from doxxing to threats, harassment, and verbal abuse), she has also been attacked financially. Especially when it comes to her supporting good causes. Some twat waffles have sent her £0.01 via PayPal with notes attached. Notes that are grossly abusive, calling her fat and ugly, and saying her husband is cheating on her. Others have sent requests asking her to pay them £100 with notes attacking HRH Catherine the Duchess of Cambridge and her book. Murky Meg got a similar request, as well. But the most heinous impediment coming from the Montecito Madam's extremists, involved charity. Once, when Taz was raising money for Australian wildlife affected by the wildfires; someone reported her PayPal account and those funds were held up for some time before getting released for the cause. Then, again, Taz was targeted when she was raising funds to help an elderly woman who got robbed. Yes, the very same people, who stand on custom-made soap boxes emblazoned with the Sussex monogram, did everything they possibly could to marginally disrupt charity. Yet Taz does not waiver; she keeps going.

As bad as Murky Meg, Yankee Wally, and Taz have had it, they're sadly not alone. No, they are only three examples from a plethora of examples. Of that plethora, one more example comes to mind. That example involves DanjaZone (Ashli).

Ashli, who started her YouTube channel before the whole Megxit ordeal as a way to keep in touch with family, was even the subject of a blind item from CDAN (crazy days and nights). You see, Ashli and her family lost everything they had in a horrible house fire. Rumors swirled around the fire, but the most heinous comments came from the Sussex Squad's more prominent loudmouths. Some accused Ashli of lying about the fire in an attempt to scam people for money. Others called her white trash and trailer trash. So while Ashli was going through the loss of her home and everything she owned... while she was grieving the loss of family pets and irreplaceable family mementos... while she was down and out on her luck and trying to cope with all the pain and loss... while she was going through all of the attacks from doubters saying she faked the fire or was lying, that she was trailer trash... the disciples of the Duchess were laughing and celebrating her pain as a win. Never once considering the fact that Ashli has been in recovery for years now, and the stress from the fire coupled with the heartless, feckless attacks, could in fact push her over the edge.

No, the very same people, who scream via CAPS lock on social media that critics of Meghan should "leave her alone", that her critics drove the Montecito Madam to "suicidal ideation while pregnant" could care less about Ashli's mental health. Yes, the very same people, who lodged over 50,000 OFCOM complaints against Piers Morgan because he questioned their beloved's outlandish attacks during the Oprah interview, previously found no issues with attacking Ashli during one of the hardest times in her life. Yet, Ashli picked up the pieces and never gave up or gave into their attacks.

Again, these four examples are just the tip of the hypocritical iceberg. There are countless more examples out there. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people who criticize Meghan's and Harry's behaviors can all relate. Nobody is safe or off limits from this iceberg; from Royal Rota reporters, celebrities, and politicians to regular people who aren't rich, famous, or in possession of a global platform.

Yet nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, in the media or in journalism ever cover any of this. You can find articles galore written with the intentions of exposing "Meghan Markle Haters". Articles like the one I wrote about attacking critics and reducing us all to the stereotypes of racist, misogynist, bigot, envious, etc.

What that does is send a clear, prominent message to the people who cling to every word of the Montecito Madam. The people who cling to the wind coming from her mouth, her "close friends" or fake "palace insiders" hear those dog whistles loud and clear. The dog whistles that say "It's okay, keep attacking and hurting people. They're evil, hateful racists. They deserve the abuse. You're on the side of good. Go harder!"

When in truth, the wind they cling to coming from their beloved's mouth or mouthpieces is actually falsehoods, lies, and manifestations of grandeur that is no more real than Netflix's The Crown. No, the wind they cling to really comes from the south mouth of their beloved. But God forbid anyone hold their little cult accountable.

We cannot have a society where sensationalism trumps truth. We cannot weaponize the press and use it against people simply because they criticize the Meghan Markles of the world. It is unacceptable for the press, media platforms, or anyone with a prominent influence on society, to celebrate defenders of the Meghan Markle faith without first acknowledging the truth.

The truth, which is often dream dashing and harsh, is that "Meghan Markle Lovers" could care less about compassion, kindness, charity, children, or community. The truth is, they could care less about forgiveness or loving thy neighbors. We don't have to look to their savior figurehead to prove this to be true. We only have to look at the comments section or Twitter.

Those of us who criticize or dislike Meghan and Harry because of their behavior know all too well the truth will never be written up on the front page of the Sun, the Daily Mail, or People Magazine. The mirage of us being the racists, misogynists, or detesting haters sells papers. And the papers don't want to be in that same category.

Maybe one day the press will tell the stories of people like Murky Meg, Yankee Wally, Taz, Ashli, and countless others in an effective way that exposes the real haters in the relationship. Maybe one day, the victims of the Montecito Madam's cult following will be doxxed, exposed, and sent a new message. A message that says, "We see you for the hypocrites you are. You may repeat the preachings of your Madam like it's the new woke gospel, but you don't practice it. You're a big reason why people loathe your beloved. You make her look worse. You aren't defending her, you are condemning her. Keep it up, because we see you and we will expose you!"

If only...

[diaxfeliz]

THAWED HEART • Mycroft

» BBC SHERLOCK / Mycroft Holmes … Y/N is an MI6 agent temporarily under Mycroft as they work on a case that ties with Y/N’s family, but to keep them safe, Mycroft discontinues their involvement.

A/N: First one I made and of course it had to be something about Mycroft protecting the reader using his position.

Status : Colleagues Relationship : Romantic, Forbidden Love

WORD COUNT: 999

A superior taking the needed measure’s to keep their beloved safe, even if it meant separating them.

You looked outside as the clouds darkened fairly quickly. Sometime before coming in, you smelled rain in the air and knew it wasn’t long before it would fall.

“Mycroft, can you send me the transcript of the file?” you said as you shrugged on your rain coat. “I‘m on my way to see Sherlock and I thought that I could head straight to the location mentioned after.”

“I’ve taken you off the mission.”

You froze hearing the words you had been fearing all throughout the mission. “What did you just say?”

“I’ve taken you off the mission.” Mycroft nonchalantly repeated as he slid back the file into its drawer and pulled out another one. “Because of that, I’ve informed your superiors that I’d be sending you back. I heard they were stationing you in Spain.”

“You… You can’t be serious.” You nervously chuckled, hoping it was a joke, but when you looked into his eyes, you knew it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. This was Mycroft Holmes.

“You know how important this mission is to me. You can’t just—”

“I’m sorry, Agent Y/L/N, but I’ve already sent out a team to finish what you’ve started.” You could only watch as Mycroft stood up with his desired file in hand. “Thank you, though, for the lead. This would help the mission go smoothly.”

You looked into his eyes one more time for an explanation to why you suddenly were no longer part of the case that revolved around you in the first place. There was a brief twinkle in them when Mycroft made brief eye contact, and that’s when you knew there was more to your exclusion.

“No…” you mumbled just over your breath.

Mycroft lifted his head. “Excuse me?”

“I may not be able to deduce as well as you, Holmes, but I’d know if I’m being withheld information.” Mycroft’s silently gasped. “Why am I being taken off the case — Why are you taking me off the case?”

Mycroft clenched his jaw, not expecting you to be pressing any further than you previously did. There was a fire in your eyes, both of fury and determination.

He opened his mouth to answer truthfully, but he couldn’t. “Our conversation is done, Agent Y/L/N.” he said in his confession’s place. “Now if you excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere—”

“Another lie. The more you withhold information, Mycroft, the easier it is for me to tell.” You crossed your arms. Mycroft was yet again surprised at you. Yes, it was a lie, but he didn’t think you could tell that. “I don’t want to ask again. You know how important this is to me, so why are you taking me off the mission wherein I’m the center of it all?”

Mycroft huffed at your stubbornness and brushed past you to the coat stand where both his coat and umbrella hung from. He reached for his umbrella, but of course, with your swiftness, you took it from the hanger and held it away from him. You glared at each other.

Mycroft was no longer in the mood to argue with you, so he wordlessly tried to take it from you. You only held it farther away every time he’d try to take it. The moment he did manage to snatch it from your hands, you grabbed his wrist.

“Mycroft—!”

“Why does everyone I care about always… detest me when I try to preserve their safety?” He finally snapped. You pulled back in surprise and fear. “Sherlock is always against me when I take away his ‘recreational’ substances, my mother and father despised me after they found out I had hidden away our sister, and now you’re against me when I take you off this… this life-risking case. Why don’t any of you understand?”

“Mycroft—“

“You want to know why I’m removing you from the case?” Mycroft asked, anger present in his eyes and voice as he took a step towards you wherein your reaction was to step back. “I am just trying to keep you safe, Y/N!”

Seeing the fear in your features, the boiling anger that had built up inside him faded almost immediately. He turned around, his back now facing her, to avoid seeing you upset.

“There’s your answer.” he said, his voice coming to a whisper.

“You… care about me?” you said as you regained yourself from Mycroft’s outburst. You looked down at your hands in embarrassment for not knowing. “I suppose I can’t tell withheld information after all… I’m… sorry, Mycroft.”

“P-Pardon me.” he mumbled and shook his head to clear his mind. “That was… was unprofessional.”

“I’m sorry for pressing… I’ll return to HQ and make a report to my superiors.”

“Yes, thank you, Agent Y/L/N. I hope to see you—” He paused and realized that he can’t see you again after this because of your transfer.

“I’ll see you around.” you said and took your own umbrella from the coat stand.

Before leaving, however, you quickly spun around and wrapped your arms around him. He let out a small gasp at the sudden display of affection. Your head laid flush against his chest and felt his heartbeat pick up.

“If it’s any consolation,” you whispered. “I care about you too, and that my transfer, no matter how far, won’t stop me from caring.”

You pulled away and kept head down. “Stay safe, sir.”

You left quickly to have the last word. It wasn’t as if Mycroft could have the last word anyways. The touch you left lingered around him and made his heart become warmer than it had ever been. He breathed to release the tension in his muscles, and almost immediately, he had already missed your touch.

He looked out the door where you were already long gone. You may have been gone from sight, but even he knew and acknowledged that you will always have a place in his thawed heart.

[randomfandomimagine]

Soul of a Warrior. Chapter 13: True Love Awaits

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Jaskier x Nissa (OC)

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

AO3

Please reblog and leave a comment, it would make my day!

A/N: I hope you’re all enjoying this series so far, thank you so much to everyone that is still following it! 🥰 Also, I’ve been including a few The Amazing Devil references here and there because reasons, if you’re a fan too, see if you catch them! 😄

Hana was kind enough to retrieve Pal for me in Touissant. I had missed my beloved horse, and his company proves helpful in my loneliness. Of course, I am not quiet alone, though that weight in my chest hasn’t left me. I try to take it as a reminder, as further incentive to stay, for the quicker I accomplish my goal, the sooner I can return and let go of that ache.

Her company is indeed a delight, as always, even if our interactions are a bit tepid until we recover the time we’ve lost. She has been very supportive of me the entire time I have been here. After I suggested I could go to nearby towns to work as a medic, she has always accompanied me. Hana hasn’t ceased looking after me with the care of an older sister. I enjoy her presence every day, it being the best thing of this place as well as learning.

“Are you having any trouble?” The redhead asks over my shoulder, forcing me back to reality.

“N-No” I clear my throat, redirecting my eyes to the woman’s wound. “I’ve got it”

These days I have been quite absent and find it nearly impossible to focus. I can’t exactly explain what is causing this state, though I have a faint suspicion. The first few days I was enamored with the place, with the new people and opportunities, with all the new knowledge. I was far too distracted by this wondrous situation to miss anything. Or anyone. At the end of the first month, however, as soon as the routine set in and the magic vanished, things changed. Some absences became too noticeable, and the ache in my heart grew in intensity. No matter how much I adore Hana, or everything that I am doing here, there is something missing. A gaping hole in my heart.

“Nissa” Hana insists, and I click my tongue in annoyance with myself. This person needs my cares. All my monster knowledge proves incredibly helpful as well, even if these are claw marks this time.

“Right” I must concentrate, I am working after all.

People often came to my aid when they were in need of a healer. The first few clients weren’t as pleased with my services, but as time passed and I acquired more practice, I also found confidence in my learned skills. Now, as I observe the wound on the woman’s arm, I recognize it doesn’t require magic. It is fortunately superficial, and although nasty looking, it can be treated fairly easily. More importantly, it can be treated manually, for I have learned not to use magic at every opportunity and instead save it for deep wounds or complicated injuries.

My hands nearly work on their own as they treat the wound, firstly cleaning it now that it has stopped bleeding to then move on to carefully bandaging it.

“Change the bandage twice a day” I tell the patient as I finish. “And apply salve when you do, it will help it heal quicker”

“Thank you” The woman heaves a sigh of relief. “I was so frightened… I didn’t want to turn into a werewolf”

“That won’t happen” I patiently repeat, used to people sometimes being more concerned about non physical ailments. “If it were a bite, perhaps. Claw marks, however, are like any other wound”

“A coin?” Hana reminds her not so subtly.

“Of course” The woman produces some from her pocket and hand it to me.

“Charmed to help” I offer a polite smile as I save the payment in my pouch.

“Remember not to go out late at night” Is my friend’s goodbye as we exit the small house.

I absently count the coins in my pouch. It is hard to believe that not long ago I didn’t even own one and now it is full to the brim. In all honesty, it does bring a smile to my face.

“You didn’t use magic this once” Hana’s hand moves idly and creates a portal that sits on the ground before us. “And you haven’t fainted, what a coincidence”

“That was so long ago…” I roll my eyes, returning my pouch to its place on my belt. “Are you not going to forget about it?”

“No, you obstinate woman” She grunts in exasperation, nearing the magical portal. I grin in spite of myself, even if it only exasperates her more.

When we cross, we are once again at Aretuza. Hana's brown eyes are attentive to my every move. Surely, she must have noticed how distracted I am as of late. I pay no attention to her concern and instead begin walking, leading the way. We near the academy, bustling with the sorceresses that I have gotten to know these past years. I pay more attention to them than to Hana, who keeps lecturing me and giving me a bit of a headache. Triss is heading our direction, bearing her usual warm smile as she approaches us to fortunately put an end to my friend’s endless scolding.

“Nissa, you’re back!”

“Hello, Triss” I hug her when she opens her arms. “Long time no see”

As I found out, Triss happened to be affiliated with King Foltest. After what happened in Vizima, she had often gone back to aid the very few survivors that managed to escape the dragon fire massacre. A stark survivor herself, Hana often accompanied her to Vizima. Not lately, however, for rumor had it that these days Triss went to meet with a certain witcher instead. Even separated, their memory chases me.

“Are you alright?” Triss asks, frowning slightly. “You seem a bit absent”

“Her head is on the clouds lately”

“I’m fine, Han”

“If you are unhappy, feel free to leave at any time” The latter reminds me, even if with a resigned sigh. When I peer at her in surprise, she nods her head. “Yes, I have noticed it”

“I am not unhappy…”

“Yet you don’t quite feel at home” I detest that Hana knows me so well.

I also hate that returning to the comforting feeling that was her friendship wasn’t as ideal as I expected it to be. Of course, it has been wonderful to meet her again and spend some time together. It feels as though her magic healed internal wounds. Reconciling that part of my past and closing that chapter of my life feels like letting go of one of the many burdens that seemed to haunt me. Yet that is not quite enough, somehow.

Things have changed. I have changed. And mostly there are two people to blame, even if one takes a bigger part of it. Nonetheless, how am I to voice these thoughts? How am I to admit to Hana, my old friend, that I crave something more? That now that I know that she is alive and well, safe and more than capable, I can carry on without her? That now that I have learned healing my stay here seems pointless? I feel like a child that only desires that which she cannot have, yet my heart keeps yearning for their return. The more I think about them, the more my skepticism fades and the more destiny and true love feel real instead of a foolish fantasy as I once thought they were. This feeling in my heart tells me so.

“I… It is nothing personal, truly. I have met some amazing women here and made great friends” I fondly squeeze Triss’ arm, earning a smile from her. “Still, I…”

“They are your home” Hana completes for me, abandoning her grave tone. Now it is full of understanding and resignation.

“Am I that transparent…?” I force out a smile, even if averting my eyes.

“You speak his name on your sleep” The redhead smirks, although it is the playful glint in her eye that speaks for itself.

“Hana…” I whine. When Triss giggles, I am convinced that I am blushing.

“I am appalled that I never got to meet the bard” The latter nudges me. “Honestly, it makes me curious that you sigh for him in such a way”

“Oi, I don’t sigh for him!” I defend myself, perhaps too adamantly. “We are just friends”

“There is no need to lie” They share a look of rapport that sets my teeth on edge.

I glare at them and laugh in outrage. My embarrassment deeply amuses them.

“There, I haven’t seen you smile like that in weeks” Hana insists, pinching my burning cheeks. I scowl.

“If you could stop torturing me, that would be wonderful” I softly push her away, refusing to look into their eyes while they laugh at my expense.

“Nissa” Triss shows me her kind smile. “You better visit us”

“I haven’t even decided anything yet” I mutter, shoving behind my ear the strands of hair that escape my disheveled bun. “Stop that”

“Perhaps you should take Pal for a ride” Hana tilts her head in the direction where I left my horse. “Clear your head”

I squint at her when I recognize the meaning behind her words. Her eyes are expressive enough to speak her thoughts. ‘You may be deceiving yourself, Nissa, but you can’t deceive us’. No, I am not deceiving myself. I have not made my mind up yet.

“Hm…” I utter a mocking hum as I wrinkle my nose at her. Hana grins.

Perhaps trying to let that sink in, she takes Triss and leaves me alone. I don’t look at them over my shoulder, yet I can feel their eyes on me as I stand there deep in thought. No matter, Pal’s company will be reassuring. It might contribute to solving the conflict within me. I stare at my worn-out boots as I approach the horse, calmly sitting where I left him. He leans his head against my shoulder as soon as I approach, and I smile and caress his mane back. As soon as I climb onto the saddle and start galloping, I grin widely. It feels liberating. Last time I freely rode Pal and wandered was far too long ago.

_ 

My thoughts feel as tangled as ever. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would blame my state on some sort of powerful sorcery. Although the source of my emotions is real, it does feel purely magical.

With Pal moving for me, I found it hard to ground myself in reality, immersed in deep thoughts which weren’t useful. Nothing has changed as a result, not my uncertainty nor my yearning. Forcing myself to actually pay attention to the direction my feet take, I have left Pal to rest for a moment while I take a stroll. I promise myself to make it brief and then return to him.

Like a wake-up call, a sound suddenly startles me. My eyes examine the area that surrounds me, scattered with trees, until I find the source. As if I needed more proof to blindly believe in destiny, my heart halts as soon as I turn to the sound of footsteps. I recognize the figure in the distance, even when he faces his back to me. His vibrant red clothes are a dead giveaway. If that wasn’t clue enough, an instrument hangs from his back. A smile creeps up to my lips as I walk closer to him. My accelerated heart betrays my excitement. For several seconds I can only watch him, still astonished that it is truly him. He clumsily steps on the soil under his feet, nearly slipping because of the mild slope. I chuckle. It is really him.

“Jaskier!” I call him, causing him to immediately turn around. His face lights up.

“Nissa!” He replies in surprise, trudging my way as well. “Ugh, a friendly face”

We meet in the middle and stand there for a moment, just peering at each other. I have the urge to lunge myself at him and hug him tight, though ultimately I don’t. I am mortified when I feel out of breath at his mere presence before me. The effect he has on me has not changed, as my feelings have not faded in the slightest. A smile slowly creeps up to his lips, as those lively blue eyes I had missed so much look me up and down. He hasn’t changed a bit in all this time. 

“You… you changed your hair” He points out, lifting a finger up to push away one of the strands that frame my face. “Y-Yeah…”

I never feel his touch, for he lowers his hand and looks away from me. Time has taken a toll on our closeness, as things seem to have cooled after so long without seeing each other. I no longer know how to address him, and our once intimate connection seems gone.

“It gets in the way” I shrug, chuckling nervously. “And it’s more comfortable than a braid”

“Less laborious too, I assume” Our eyes meet once more. “You always spent so long braiding it”

The cold autumn breeze fills the silence as it caresses our skins and ruffles our hair. As usual, he doesn’t push his away when it falls over his eyes. I smile. Remaining quiet, he imitates my gesture despite not knowing the thought that conjured it.

“What… what are you doing here, Jaskier?” He pauses, apparently too busy staring at me.

“It is so good to see you, honestly” Making me realize we are still just standing there, he begins walking. I do the same, lingering by his side. “You are not going to believe what happened”

“I’m all ears” My heart unexpectedly wells up, being thankful for the company myself.

“I got lost in this… stupid place” He motions around us. “Luckily I found you, and you can be my compass”

“Gladly” I say, desperate to break through this rare stiffness in the conversation. In reality, there’s a question burning in my mind that I can’t help but to blurt out. “And… where’s Geralt?”

As we walk together to a more open area, I notice how his feet halt for a moment. Jaskier recovers quickly, though, and carries on with our brisk pace.

“I don’t know, actually” He plays with the leather strap supporting the lute to his back. “We sort of… parted ways too”

I take notice of the reluctant and saddened hint in his voice. Sensing something has happened between them, I open my mouth to ask. However, Jaskier pipes up once more.

“Never mind that, tell me about what you’ve done” He tilts his head in my direction. His voice has acquired its usual energy once more. “Have you learned a lot?”

“I have” I glance at my hands, now calloused and mildly worn-out. “Even if I haven’t quite perfected magic yet”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re fine” He waves his hand in the air. “There's nothing you can’t do”

I chuckle. His compliment flatters me. I have missed how casually he can spew lovely words. Struggling to find a proper reply, I only part my lips. The sudden rustling of nearby bushes alarms me. Forgetting about searching for a witty remark that before came so naturally, I peer in the direction of the sound.

“I suppose magic is quite a complicated subject” He is saying, still focused on the conversation. “Still, you have been here… what, nearly two years? Surely, your abilities must have greatly improved”

“Shut up” I ask him, slowly nearing the bushes. I tip toe not to be noisy, though he does not. His steps are fidgety and heavy.

“Well, that isn’t very nice” He puts a hand on his hip, mindlessly following. “Nissa, have you turned impolite?”

I recognize his attempt to rekindle our relationship, though the timing is greatly off. Thousands of possibilities fill my mind. It can be a monster behind the bush. It can be Scoia’tael. It can be Jovan. Was Jaskier followed? Was I being watched? Did I put all my friends in danger again?

“Honestly, that was quite hurtful, I-“

“Shut up!” I slap a hand against his mouth, not worrying to glance at him. Jaskier grunts against my hand, but resigns himself to his imposed silence.

The noise continues, although the rustling alone isn’t enough to properly hint to who the attacker might be. The tall bush is moving. Jaskier stiffens when he sees it too. I recognize a shadow lurking behind it and gasp. Then I act on an instinct and throw myself towards Jaskier. He yelps, clumsily holding on to me when I push him to the ground.

Landing on top of him, I hear him grunting when his back makes contact. The lute thuds against the ground, protecting him from harm. Before he can speak again, I cover him with my body and return my palm to his mouth. His eyes are wide as he watches me in astonishment. I look away from them and back to the bush. My heartbeat fills the silence. I hold my breath. The rustling then continues as a shape slowly emerges from the bushes, too slowly for my poor nerves. I breathe out when I see our ‘attacker’.

It is only a deer. The animal calmly paces near us.

“Melitele…” I utter in annoyance, heaving a deep breath.

Jaskier’s fingers meet with my hand, which he gently pushes off his mouth. When I peer down at him, there is a pronounced frown on his brow. Worried about his wellbeing, I open my mouth, though my breathing is so erratic that I can’t speak.

“Uh… Nissa?”

“False alarm…”

“I noticed… Uh, I don’t know if you realized, but… you’re straddling me”

I feel heat creeping up my entire face when I see I am in fact straddling him. Because of the lute on his back, his torso is propped up and our faces are extremely close. I can feel his breath on my nose. My body is pressing his to the ground while my free hand protectively keeps his chest in place, so I take it off.

“Sorry…” I laugh a bit, hoping he can’t hear the hammering of my heart. “Are you hurt?”

“No…” His hand squeezes my hip. “But you’re still on top of me”

“Forgive me” I hurriedly scurry off him and allow him to move.

“Oh, you are forgiven” Jaskier calmly mutters. I can feel his eyes on me.

I suddenly feel incredibly disheveled when several strands of hair fall over my face. My panting doesn’t help. Neither does my still racing heart, nor the heat in my body. Wishing the ground could just eat me whole, I focus my glance on it while my hands try to find something to occupy themselves with. They still remember the feeling of his chest hair against them, of the movement of his breathing under my palm. Instead they move to my hair and attempt to fix the mess that is my bun. Once I check it has survived the sharp movements, my fingers instinctively fall upon my dagger. I whip my head up and stare at Jaskier. I pretend not to realize how he is gawking at me.

“You should take this” I offer it to him, not wanting to leave him exposed. “Just in case”

“There was no danger” He reminds me, watching the harmless deer with the corner of his eye. “I’m alright”

“But if there is, you have no weapon”

“If I take it, I leave you with no weapon”

“I can take care of myself”

Studying magic and medicine hasn’t been the only abilities I have improved on. Every day, I have made it a mission to train a bit. Abandoning the use of my dagger, I familiarized myself with Kader’s old sword. I am nowhere near as skilled as Geralt is, but I can surely hold myself in a fight now. Furthermore, and remembering how obstinate the witcher was about it, I have tried to use my legs and fists as weapons as well.

“I appreciate the thought, Nissa, but-“

“Jaskier, take the damn dagger”

“Actually, I don’t need it… I… always carry something with me”

When he pushes his open doublet aside, I see a familiar hilt sticking out from his waistband. As my hand rests over my dagger, I recognize how similar Jaskier’s is. For a moment I wonder why he hasn’t said anything about it before. Then I remember where he got the weapon from: it was that day in the mountain, when one of Jovan’s treasure hunters dropped it and we found it. Has he kept it all this time? Why? Was it because it reminded him of me or only to arm himself? To my knowledge, he never carried weapons before we met, only his trustworthy lute. The idea that he held on to the dagger only flusters me further, as if I wasn’t very much so before.

“Don’t worry about me, love” Jaskier grins in the end, even if there is so much to him at this very moment. The way his fingers delicately hold on to his dagger. How his eyes are fondly watching me. The subtle blush in his cheeks.

“R-Right” I nod, cringing on the inside. “Good”

“Are you alright, Nissa?”

“Yes. A-Anyway, where was I?” I continue walking, flustered by his scrutiny. “Right, magic”

The subject change is rather abrupt, and I know how bizarre the moment is when Jaskier doesn’t say a word after that.

_ 

Finally forgetting about my strange moment of alarm, Jaskier has started talking again. He seems fascinated by my tale of all the things I have learned here. When he jokes and asks about the beautiful sorceresses, I feel as though the awkwardness is in the process of leaving us.

Pal has taken us back to the academy. I lightly tug on the reins and proceed to jump off. Before I can, Jaskier is already on the ground and reaching out with his arms. I grin as I lean in his direction, allowing him to hold me by the waist and carefully lower me onto the floor. I feel stupid as I wonder in the gentle touch of his hands and his surprisingly muscular biceps under my fingers.

“Thank you” I mutter, moving away from him too quickly when we stand too close.

“My pleasure, my lady” He stands still for just a second. “So, uh… why didn’t you just use a portal, if you can in fact conjure them?”

“Simple” I say as I walk away, waiting for him to follow. “I refuse to use them unless I absolutely have to. Magic comes with a price, and I dislike using portals in any way”

“Ah, just like Geralt…” His tone instantly shifts from cheery to gloomy. I anxiously glance around to distract him from whatever has happened with the witcher. As I do, I spot Hana and Triss sitting by a tree. They are having a lively conversation that I hope does not include me.

“I want you to meet Triss” Though I hesitate to touch him again, I link my arm with his and drag him in their direction. “She is the sweetest”

“Is that her, the brunette?” The grin does indeed return to his lips. “She is gorgeous”

“Oh, how I have missed your blatant adoration for other people” I mock him, averting my eyes when both the women and him watch me.

“Sarcasm can harmful a weapon, my dear Nissa” His hand pats mine over his forearm. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re jealous”

“Nissa!” Triss luckily calls attention off the subject, standing to her feet and approaching us. Hana stays behind for a bit, mouth agape as she stares at Jaskier. I can’t wait to have her tease me further, especially knowing that she was more than correct.

“Hello, lovely dame!” Jaskier offers his hand as soon as Triss is close enough. “I‘m Jaskier, and who might you be?”

She isn’t exactly subtle when her eyes widen at the mention of the name she has heard so many times. Gosh, why does he make me feel like a child with a stupid crush?

“Triss. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jaskier” Her eyes fall upon me for just a second before returning to him. “Nissa has told me all about you”

“Has she now?”

“H-Hana!” I call her over, frantically gesturing for her to save me.

I ‘accidentally’ bump my shoulder against Triss while I leave them to reunite with Hana. Triss whispers a ‘he’s cute’ before I leave her side. Hana rushes to reach me, even if her eyes won’t stop traveling from him to me. An uncharacteristically mischievous grin plays in her lips.

“How did you find him?” She blurts out, tugging at my sleeve as soon as she approaches.

“We sort of... just found each other near the woods” I chuckle, mildly distracted by the sound of his voice behind me. “Isn’t that such a coincidence?”

“Coincidence…”

“Of course”

“Are you leaving with him?”

“I…” Although I hesitate, that feeling in my heart returns to eliminate any doubts. “I think so…”

“True love awaits” She simply whispers to me as we return with them.

Tag list: @x-joie-x​ / @x-jodi-x​ / @dancingwith-thesunflowers​ / @golden-guide​ / @alwayshave-faith​ / @this-is-whump-dammit​ / @legallyblindgamer727​ / @lilyevans1​ / @kingniazx​ / @molethemollie / @a-somehow-functioning-dumbass // Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list to be notified when I post next chapter!!

[1ndigocat]

Today I bring you a drawing of a charismatic secondary character, returning to the past I offer again the possibility of enjoying my stories, to "remember" as Charles drinks, what I previously offered to my friends and fans, this drawing has taken me many hours of work, I started it in my work in the call center, and I did it slowly until I finished it yesterday. in the program "Mypaint" without more detour, enjoy the story: In a distant city there is a beach, and on this beach there is a club, in the club called "Paradise" there is a bar, and there Charles works, Charles is a mantis, no one in his right mind would have given him a job like that. a mantis, but Charles comes from a family of juggling actors, and is amazing using his pincers, thanks to a friend called "Nataly Moon" which we will know later, Charles has this elegant position that is well paid. But Charles is not just a simple bartender, he makes magical drinks, recalls important moments, or makes you feel something special, they are: healthy, fresh and healthy others! But for me to keep talking, if he can tell you ... Charles: Welcome young man, Mr. or Mrs., can I offer you something? I have variety, do not be intimidated by the strange names of my cocktails, anything if it is going to start I will always recommend the "Simple Blue" to get used to the sensation of my drinks before moving on to something bigger Someone: Bigger? Charles: That's right, we also have the Cocotop, it's a very refreshing drink, maybe you've had some crazy adventure that you want to repeat in your life, or something crazy, surely the Cocotop will help you remember! Someone: I do not know, it does not convince me ... Charles: If you're looking to feel the effect of love, you can try a Popsipop, unless you're very in love, maybe not to notice very special Someone: And, are they very expensive? Charles: Well, you seem like a nice person, the house invites the first drink, with a condition Someone: What condition Charles: That he stays here with me to listen to the story of an old friend of mine Someone: Sure, why not? Charles: His name is Francis, one day a person with a very dark aura sat in that same chair where you are now, his eyes lost and the inclination of his body told me that this person came to me, in search of help , he told me his name, and he told me that he had lost something irreplaceable, stop cleaning the glasses and listen carefully telling him "tell me", Francis told me he had a beautiful girlfriend, a smiling young wolf with beautiful fur, and a heart huge, was always with his little cat Mimi, and his grandmother who was the only family he had, everything seemed fine until there, he told me that he had an ex, someone detestable, and despite the time was still harassing him, Francis He told me that he had to live alert all the time, because that guy was always stalking him, they had two years together and when it finally seemed like that nightmare had ended, he received a call from "Pommy" his beloved girlfriend, with complete normality he listened to her choked and tearful voice telling him that they were finished, that she was tired of him, and that he would not look for her anymore, that he would go back to his ex, Francis ran to where she was, but when it was too late, he had gone, she was missing, every day he looked for her, he called her, but she was lost, a week later Pommy's grandmother calls him and tells him that she had committed suicide, however the way in which everything had happened was very suspicious , since everything pointed to what had been a murder Someone: Hey, so you tell me this sad story Charles: * smiles mischievously * Francis did not stop until he found the ex, and found enough evidence to get him imprisoned .. Someone: well, at least I can do justice ... Charles: But ... Someone: But? Charles: He felt guilty for not doing something to save Pommy, and he missed her so much Someone: Charles: I could only hear it, it was the most difficult case that had touched me, I made a special cocktail for him to call it "Lost memory" Someone: Did you help him forget? Charles: No, I helped him recover what he had lost, the happy memory of Pommy those two years they spent together. Someone: I see Charles: Anyway, he wants something to drink that he feels like Someone: * think for a moment * ... a Simple Blue please Charles: instantly * in an instant and with a few jugs served a glass of bubbly blue drink and put it on the bar * enjoy it. - DA: https://tinyurl.com/ybf8hmyp FA: https://tinyurl.com/ybnwporl Instagram: https://tinyurl.com/y9judhml

[whisperwoofwoof]

Golden Ch 11

Rating: Mature Pairing: JongKey Chaptered/WIP | 1.7k words Warnings: Language, occult, supernatural Prompt: Dish soap, Children climbing a tree, Whistling, A sex scene, Holy water

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“I’ve always wanted to do magic, but I never knew any witches,” Minho told Jinki as they pushed the living room furniture to the side.

“I’ll walk you through it. The ritual uses quite a bit of energy, but I’m confident we can manage,” Jinki said, placing the supplies on the center table.

Bottles of herbs and empty jars littered the table, along with a blade, a mortar, and a pestle to grind said ingredients. As Jinki started up the fireplace, Minho took the blade and began to cast a protective circle. The craft was new to him, but his inexperience didn’t show. After casting a protective circle, he took the sea salt and formed a physical circle as well.

“By the way, sorry for telling Kibum about you,” Jinki offered as he waited for the fire to start.

“It’s nothing major, I was going to tell him anyways. I actually still need to tell him that I’m a clairvoyant, too.”

“You are?” asked Jinki.

“I am, but it’s all so new to me. It’s weird, but I’ve had dreams about all this in the past.”

“Well, maybe I can help you through it all after this. Taemin could use some help on his cases, too.”

“Yeah.”

Minho quieted down. He spilled the last of the needed salt and walked back to the table. As he began chopping herbs, Jinki stood from his spot in front of the fireplace and went over to Minho.

“Are you upset about Taemin?” he asked Minho, grabbing some herbs himself.

“The thing is, I’m not. Even though his energy is different, it’s not negative,” Minho told him while grabbing the mortar.

“He’s a good guy. I only hope he tells Kibum.”

“Right. So, what does this spell do?” he asked Jinki as he poured the mortar’s contents into a jar.

“It will open a one-way portal to Hell, sort of like a suck zone for demonic entities. Once the demon has been released from the body, this will make sure it has nowhere else to go.”

“Could Jonghyun get sucked in accidentally? What about Taemin?”

“That’s why it’s important for no one to fuck up,” Jinki insisted while handing Minho more herbs.

-

The three of the stood in the freezing bedroom. Kibum was glued to his spot, watching Taemin stagger out of dark with demonic eyes. The booming, wicked laughter pricked his ears. Taemin’s obsidian eyes soon faded to their normal mahogany hue. The demonologist was rendered motionless between the demon’s vessel and the amateur exorcist.

The laughter was quickly disrupted by Taemin’s own chortle.

Jonghyun faced Kibum, expecting a small, shivering frame, and was instead greeted with a smug grin.

“Why are you not cowering in fear? You trusted this man and he’s exactly what you detest,” Jonghyun shouted.

Newfound courage enveloped Kibum, who strode to the vessel. He neither faltered nor hesitated, only reaching the demon with the sole purpose of getting him to shut up.

“For a demon, you’re not the badass you think you are.”

Jonghyun’s cheek stung as his face was struck by the Good Book. Smoke emitted from the site, displaying the impressive hit. Using the demon’s shock, Taemin and Kibum tackled his body to the mattress. As Kibum retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, he pressed the crucifix to the vessel’s chest, gaining a painful howl.

“You poor, sad demon. I already know what Taemin is.”

-

“Seriously, though, who are you really?”

Taemin took a deep breath, ready to reveal his secret to Kibum. He had only known this man for over a day, but if it meant he could gain his trust, he was willing to take the risk.

“Promise not to freak out?”

When Kibum nodded, Taemin closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were shrouded in black. The surprise was noticeable, but Kibum visibly calmed himself down.

“You’re…one of them?” he questioned Taemin. “I don’t understand. If you’re a demon, why do you exorcise them?”

Taemin sighed, allowing his eyes to revert to normal.

“I’ve been studying demonology for as long as I can remember. I even took my first case in my early teens. I used to be human, however one slip-up changed that,” he stated, glancing at the door.

“Okay.”

“It was after Jinki and I had a fight. He didn’t want me to take the case, so I went alone. It-it gained the upper hand and made me drink its’ blood, which began the transformation. Despite how stupid I had been, Jinki agreed to perform a restoration ritual and saved my life.”

“A restoration ritual?”

“It was a spell to keep my soul in my body. I’m technically a demon holding a human soul.”

“So, the exorcism can’t hurt you, but the holy items can,” Kibum wondered aloud.

“They mostly sting, but the holy water can do more damage. That’s why I ask Jinki to gather it. Also, the spell he’s doing with Minho always has a chance of pulling me in as well.”

“Damn.”

“You’re telling me.”

Kibum gave a low whistle and braved the bedroom door.

“No use just standing here, I guess,” he told the other man.

He was ready to confront the demon inhabiting Jonghyun’s body. He wanted him out and back to where he came from. He was going to fix this and fix it properly. Now being able to trust Taemin a little more, he was confident that they could do this together. Him being a demon wasn’t any cause for alarm, not when he was the one helping Kibum. He braced himself, turning the knob and accepting his fate.

-

Jonghyun’s wrists were now handcuffed to the bedframe. His ankles were still shackled, giving his body a pull, twisting at an awkward angle.

“Aw, Kibum. If you wanted to tie me up, you could’ve just asked nicely,” Jonghyun pouted, looking more sinister than ever.

“Shut up and come out of him!” he held the crucifix to his body, although he thrashed against the mattress.

“I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, to release this human at once. Depart this vessel, and this world,” Taemin spoke while circling the bed.

“Looks like you grew some balls, Key. Where did this confidence come from?”

Kibum pulled back and touched his feet to the floor. He grabbed the book, leafing through the pages and trying to remember where he left off. As he read, Jonghyun showed no signs of letting his prey go.

“You bring an Ouija board home and suddenly you’re an exorcist? How entertaining,” he smirked.

He tried to pay no mind to the demon, finding the verse he was reading and continuing. Taemin didn’t waver in his own words, either. He maintained his pace around the bed, adding the holy water into the mix. His words flowed like a sonnet, showing his experience in his profession. However, the strength of the act slowly dismantled the hold on the vessel, angering the possessive demon.

“You think you can save your little boyfriend? Ha, I’ll drag his soul to Hell with me! I’ll torture him myself!”

His words were brash, loud in the barely furnished guest room. Kibum could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he couldn’t allow them to fall. They made it nearly impossible for him to read the pages, but it was not the time to cry.

“Don’t cry, Key,” the demon mocked him. “This is all your fault, anyways. This fool would have married you if you didn’t mess around where you shouldn’t have. Now, he’ll die because of you.”

Kibum felt like he would vomit. His stomach churned, and his throat went dry. The tears threatened to fall, to show weakness to the being holding Jonghyun’s body captive. He needed to keep moving, keep reading, no matter what it told him.

“You mean, you didn’t know? What did you think he packed in the bag? Go on, check…”

Jonghyun’s words trailed off, interrupted by the scraping of a heavy object against the wooden floor. The large wardrobe moved closer to him, blocking the door as it stopped. The doors flew open, revealing the black duffle bag.

“He’s a simpleton, you know. You guys fucked one time, and this is what he did.”

It felt as though he was possessed himself. The wardrobe pulled him closer like a magnet, or lure waiting to strike.

“Kibum, don’t listen to him! Keep reading!” Taemin voiced from the background, giving a hint of panic for the first time.

“Quiet. You’re an abomination to two different species,” Jonghyun replied, trying to get Kibum to reach the wardrobe.

He took the bag in his hands, slowly undoing the zipper. All he saw were clothes, so he reached his hand inside. After searching for a bit, his fingers hit something that definitely was not fabric, something he did not place in there when he packed. He pulled his hand out to reveal a small, black box. His breath hitched as he realized exactly what it meant.

“Don’t just stand there, open it,” the demon teased.

Kibum listened to the demon, ignoring Taemin’s cries not to. Time slowed to a halt as he opened the small box. For a moment, there wasn’t an exorcism going on. He thought back to everything: the day him and Jonghyun met, the day they actually became friends, their lost years, the day they reunited, and the night the slept together. The culmination of everything allowed the levy to break, and so the tears fell. He fucked up and brought his lover into it. Now, the man would probably die.

“Poor Key, your beloved Dino will die. Ha, remember that? That’s how I pulled you in-,” Jonghyun stopped, sentence disrupted by a sight he didn’t expect to see.

An enraged Kibum rushed at him, snatching the book and crucifix. He extended his right arm, the cross protruding from his hand and shoved into Jonghyun’s face. His voice grew strong, repeating the passage without a single quiver. The vigor and valor in which he read caused Jonghyun to pull at his restraints, only to be ceased by Taemin’s own words. He didn’t miss the small smile that graced Taemin’s lips, noticing that the demonologist had his eyes focused on Kibum’s left hand.

On the hand that held the book, graced upon the second-to-last finger, was an engagement ring.  

[eenefangirlanalysis]

And here is one, out of many, emotional powerful scenes of Big Picture Show.

Edd’s room was the first room we were introduced to when the series started. He’s running around his room labeling everything. It’s an odd time to start doing this seeing how Edd has always had OCD. In contrast to the scene everything felt so happy in Edd’s introduction. Little did we know about the darkness behing this character’s past.

I head canon that Edd’s mental mind was starting to grow worse around season 1. It has never been right, however. His parents took notice and gave him a label maker. That’s why this object means so much to him. 

Although thoughtful it shows you how neglectful they are. If they noticed something wrong with their son then they would have taken Edd to a psychiatrist. Edd really needs help because he’s been crumbling apart hiding his past. His parents are the ones who tell him to repress it because they want to forget it. 

Edd’s room is dark. It has an ominous, bleak tone. It’s very different from Ed’s scene where he was hurriedly packing things away. It wasn’t dark at all. It almost had a touch of comedy because he tripping, packing anything he could into a sock, and eve has time to make himself buttered toast. 

Edd’s scene is nothing compared to Ed’s.

The unknown scam had a different affect on each Ed.

Edd has everything packed. It’s unsettling how orderly everything is. How did Edd have enough time to pack all this up while Ed had zero time? 

Edd has packed 

- Shirts - Pants - Socks - More underwear then shirts, pants, and socks - Toothbrush and tooth paste - Ties - A flashlight - Two sponges - Books

And all those supplies are going to fit in that one suitcase. Well, it may have been possible. Edd only takes advantage of cartoon physics when times are very serious.

Edd’s cactus, Jim, also sits in the corner. It turns out Edd was more close with Jim then the audience thought. Edd only interacts with Jim once in the serious and that’s when he is using the cactus to defend himself in season 1. He related to this plant specifying that cactus’ also have feelings. This relationship Edd had with the cactus should have been explored more. He treats it as if it were a close friend or a member of his family.

Look closely at objects on the floor in the first screenshot.

‘Jim’s Care and Feeding’, I can’t make out the whole title of the other book but it’s ‘Jim’s Feeding Schedule’. I’m also curious about Jim’s home movie reel. What movie’s did Edd capture of the cactus?

I admire Edd’s love for nature. He can relate to it. I’m surprised there is no guide to how to take care of his ants. They mean a lot to him too.

I just noticed the ‘Art of Packing’ guidebook. I can’t decide if this is funny or strange. Edd doesn’t know how to pack? Has he ever packed before? 

The only time he ever packed was when he moved to Peach Creek. Edd has never gone on any vacations. Sad. Edd has always stayed in one place. I feel that he should at least have an idea on packing because he has been the one to pack all his school supplies and set up a system for himself.

Over in the corner sits a distraught boy trying to write a letter to his parents.

“’Beloved parents. By the time you read this, I will be long–far...’”

Edd immediately stops writing. This letter is no good. 

The curtains are drawn. The only source of light comes from the lamp. Everything looks as if it has grown in size while Edd has shrunk. The room looks bigger.

This element repeats itself many times throughout the movie. Whenever Edd is alone everything grows eerie. 

Edd has always been alone. In his mind. He’s always hanging out with Ed and Eddy, but he doesn’t trust them enough to tell them his dark secret. They’re the only people he has to rely on. Nobody else cares to understand or be a part of his life.

Edd faces the world in the movie. He faces darkness that has always blocked his way in the road. The Ed’s all go through powerful character development. 

Edd has changed the most since his first appearance. He was passive and fell to Edd’s whim immediately taking part in all the scams. Edd actually acted like a kid dog piling his friends. As the series went on Edd matured becoming an adult way too soon. This was only to impress his parents who ignore him. 

His whole childhood was wasted. All because of the dodge ball incident,

Edd trashed 1 out of probably more then 50 failed attempts at writing a letter to his parents.

Edd attempts one more time.

“‘Dearest Mother and Father...” 

What I love most about this scene is that we’re listening to Edd’s inner monologue. He’s letting viewers come into his scrambled mind. Edd looks like he has it all together on the outside, but his mind is decimated. That’s why he labels everything. He needs everything organized in the outside world so he can live his life easier.

Edd’s world has always been dark. Ed and Eddy don’t have a clue to how Edd lives his life. They are given a few clues due to his frequent lash outs. And Eddy could sense that something was wrong in A Fistful of Ed. Edd immediately took blame to all those beatings which he did not do.

Acts of violence or revenge have always affected Edd. It’s a trigger.

What is so sad about this scene is that Edd barely has the courage to write down these words. He is suffering more then just a break down. He needs to take a break every few sentences to gather himself.

‘It is with great shame....’

Edd holds the pen so hard that it leaks looks as if it shredding the paper.

Have we seen Edd’s hand writing before? I feel like we have, but it is seen as the basic cartoon scribbles. Something about Edd’s handwriting looks unnerving. It feels out of character for Edd.

Edd makes a plethora of amazing but sad faces throughout this scene. This scene was wonderfully story boarded capturing a boy who is struggling. Something terrible has happened.

I believe Raven Molise was in charge of putting this emotional scene together. Let’s give her a hand. Expressions are the hardest detail for anybody working on a cartoon or any animated movie/tv show.

I never noticed this detail before, but Edd looks just like his five year old self. In the flashback of Every Which Way but Ed young Edd was shown to be a very happy little boy with social skills beyond his years. Little did viewers know that an incident only happened what could have been a few days ago.

This scene is so powerful because Edd’s life has not been right since he was five. He has been wearing his hat since he was five years old. It was even too big to fit him then. 

It helped that Edd changed towns, but not that he was shut out from the world and ignored by his cold parents. Sticky notes have made a negative impact in Edd’s life. Who’s to say that maybe they have been happening even before the dodge ball incident. 

Edd has said a number of times that he’d rather think of himself as an adult. He doesn’t know the first thing when it comes to being an adult. Or a kid for that matter. He doesn’t know how to be himself. I feel that Edd masks some of his smartness in order to keep people out.

Edd builds up the courage to start again.

“That I regretfully con-fess...to..."

He quits once more.

Edd is bottling up his emotions throughout this scene. Edd is the most emotional out of the Ed’s. He cries but he doesn’t know what he is upset about. He doesn’t want to understand himself because his parents refuse to understand him.

There may be another reason to why Edd is crying in this scene.

Will Edd’s parents read this?

“‘I regretfully confess to my involvement...’“

“‘... in the inexcusable, unconscionable ...’“

“‘... reprehensible, abhorrent...’“

“‘... detrimental, detestable...’“

“‘... thoughtless, HURTFUL...”

Wow, Edd’s voice alone is enough to tug at your strings. Samual Vincent, I give you props for this scene.

Is Edd talking about the incident or the cold treatment his parents have always faced him with?

Edd gives up on trying to make his parents notice him after A Fistful of Ed. Edd learned how alone he really is. His parents did nothing to help their son. Edd hardly has a relationship with his parents. All he is is there maid so he can do ridiculous chores such as triangulate the towels. They’ve been embarrassed about the act he caused. Rather then try to figure out what caused it they shut their son out.

Are Edd’s parents always working? We have no idea what Edd’s parents relationship is with each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them were having an affair. They married, but didn’t want to have a child. Along the way Edd came along.

Edd’s parents don’t share a bed. They have two separate beds in their room. Have you noticed how Edd is behind on learning about puberty and sex? This is off topic, but Edd is slow when it comes to being around girls. Edd teaches everything to himself. I believe that Edd was home schooled for some time as his parents thought he was a danger to school.

Edd learns about the world because his friends pulled him out from his room, or his jail cell, to see what the world is truly like. Edd has been taking care of himself his whole life. 

And you know what makes this scene ever more dark?

This letter falls under the line as a suicide note...

“OH, WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!”

This unknown scam hurt people... Edd hurt students in the dodge ball incident... 

Edd is broken inside...

Just then the door to Edd’s room bangs open.

Great animation!!

Oh no, is it...

No, it’s only Ed who shouts out his friend’s name.

Edd’s door has been pretty lucky until now.

I feel like is symbolism for Edd is finally free from his prison cell. He has been able to leave, but he’s been trapped. He has been trapped inside his mind.

[imagine-loki]

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 6 AUTHOR: goddessofmischief ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit. 

RATING: T

NOTES: Hello! Sorry for the slight delay, & I hope you enjoy this chapter. Also, I recently found an illustration that I adore, which seems to perfectly illustrate my story. Just thought I’d share it, hehe.

I woke up early the next morning feeling extraordinarily well in regards to my health. However, I had not gotten much sleep throughout the night. I opened the curtains widely, and the initial hints of the rising sun cascaded into my room - illuminating the space with a rosy pink and orange light.

I chose to wear another mourning frock of mine, one that I hadn’t worn since my parent’s funeral. It was one of the more exquisite dresses that I had brought along with me, as it was beautifully embroidered and adorned with fine lace. I fashioned my hair into a stylish chignon, which always made me appear much older than I actually was.

I headed downstairs at this early hour to walk around the mansion and stretch my legs, as I believed that lying in bed for so many days augmented the stiffness in my bones. I thought I would go downstairs to the kitchen and say good morning to the rest of the servants, and perhaps steal a bite or too of the pastries that Mrs. Cunningham regularly cooked each morning. Although my destination was the downstairs kitchen, I didn’t get far for I uncovered an open door which led to a small, curious room. I assumed that I had never taken notice of it before because Mr. Laufeyson had sealed it off and only intended to use it when he had guests.

My assumptions were fortified when I walked inside and discovered a beautiful piano, and velvet tufted sofas and chairs situated around the lavishly decorated room. Various glasses, either partially filled with liquor or empty, were left there from the night before and had not been cleared from the room just yet. Although I should have left the room at that moment, as I had no right to be in it, I sat down at the piano. My fingers twitched in anticipation as I passed my fingertips noiselessly across the ivory keys. I had played ever since I was a very young girl, and I had been very despondent when I had to leave my beloved childhood piano behind. It had always been a favorite hobby of mine.

But this piano was even more beautiful, and I could feel that it was not regularly used. Placing my left hand into position, I played the first set of notes that began one of my favorite pieces: Chopin’s Nocturne No. 19. I paused to notice how beautifully the notes resonated within the small room. I had ought to close to door to prevent the others from hearing me, but I couldn’t wait any further to begin playing. I closed my eyes as I repeated the initial notes and proceeded with the accompanying notes that followed. I had memorized this entire piece, which had went against my mother’s pleads for me to focus on more upbeat pieces, rather than melancholic melodies such as this one.

I was a bit sluggish, and faltered at times. Yet, I still thought that my performance was satisfactory - especially due to my lack of recent practice. I kept my eyes closed for most of the time, completely lost in the music. I finished the piece smoothly, even though my fingers yearned not to desert the keys.

And as the final note ceased to echo throughout the room, the applause that followed shocked me. I opened my eyes and turned around to find my master, and Mr. Browne, sitting on two chairs located near the entrance to the room. I had not heard them come in. They then gave me a standing ovation. “Bravo!” shouted Mr. Browne. I stood up, flustered by this sudden deliverance of praise. “Thank you. I didn’t know I had an audience.” “You captured our attention as we were returning back from an early walk to the stables.” grinned Mr. Laufeyson, as they both glided closer to me. He looked upon me with astonishment. “What talent you have, Miss Dowling!,” exclaimed Mr. Browne. “I didn’t know your ward was such a piano virtuoso!” He said to my guardian, who seemed to be in quite a trance of curiosity and awe as he didn’t answer Mr. Browne at once. “Neither did I.” admitted Mr. Laufeyson with an amused chuckle. “Do you know any of Beethoven’s works off the top of your little head?” inquired Mr. Browne. “Yes, I do.” I did know a couple, even though I preferred Chopin, Liszt and numerous other composers, to Beethoven. His face lit up immensely. “He is my favorite! You must play for us all later, after dinner!” “It is my master who will decide, for it is not in my liberty to do so.” I glanced towards Mr. Laufeyson, to stress to Mr. Browne that I was still under his authority. “Yes, of course she must.” He assured Mr. Browne. “I will be looking forward to hearing you play again, Miss Dowling.” He said fondly and as he left the room, he began to loudly hum Fur Elise.

I turned to my master, as I anticipated that he would be mad with me. “I know I shouldn’t have gone into the room, but I saw the piano and-” He smiled broadly, and held up his right hand to stop me from talking. “Hush, Victoria. It’s perfectly alright. I’m very pleased to see that you are all better.” “I won’t be disturbing you, or your guests, any longer, and I will return to my room presently. Good day, sir.” I curtsied to take my leave, but he reached out and gently touched my arm to stop me. “What is this nonsense you speak of, Victoria? I would like you to join us, now that your health is restored.” His hand did not leave my arm. “I thank you, sir, but I fear that I am not entirely in good health just yet. I wouldn’t want you, or your guests, to potentially contract my sickness.” Although this was true, I also did not wish to intrude on him and his company so soon. I could tell that my master was trying to find something to say to counteract my supposition, but he simply could not, so I continued. “I will stay away until I receive confirmation from the doctor that my illness is no longer contagious.” “Okay. I will call Dr. Sweeney to check up on you as soon as possible. I no longer want you confined to your room.” We both noticed somebody at the door, and I stepped back from my master. I had not realized the close proximity in which he had drawn himself to me. “There you are, Loki. I was looking for you. Breakfast is about to be served.” Lavinia eyed me closely, and kept her distance as she undoubtedly wanted to avoid the possibility of catching my fever. “Has your health improved then, Miss Dowling?” “Yes, I feel much better. Thank you.” I answered, and then turned to Mr. Laufeyson. “I will wait for the doctor in my room.” He nodded, and before returning to my chamber, I walked to the servant’s area in the basement in hope that somebody would be able to make me a bowl of porridge.

¨¨¨°º0º°¨¨¨

The doctor arrived just before noon, and I admitted both Dr. Sweeney and Mr. Laufeyson, who accompanied him, into my bedchamber. I had been spent my morning sitting at my desk reading Candide, as my guardian had left it behind the previous day. Dr. Sweeney proceeded to check up on me through taking my temperature. “Your temperature is perfectly normal, and I must say that your speedy recovery is quite remarkable.” “I assure you it’s because of how much I rested over the past few days, and because of how closely I was looked after…” I glanced in my master’s direction and he smiled warmly. “Yes, I agree with you, Miss Dowling.” The doctor remarked kindly. “Now, although your illness is gone, and will no longer be contagious to the others, I still don’t want you to go outside just yet. I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill. I want you to wait until next week, just to be sure.” I acknowledged his proposal with a nod, and I was rather content with this for it meant that I could not join Mr. Laufeyson and his company whenever they decided to venture outdoors. I rather felt unwelcome at the prospect of joining them - especially in being in the company of Lavinia, as all I could remember was the way she laughed cruelly at me when Mr. Laufeyson had slapped me… I looked down on my lap upon recalling this painful memory, and how my master had harmed me. “Well, I better be off to my next patient. I will find my way out. I wish you good health, Victoria.” My eyes remained downcast as I thanked him, and Mr. Laufeyson, after expressing his gratitude once again, led the doctor to my door. However, he did not exit himself. “Won’t you join us now, Victoria? Lunch will be served shortly.” He said, upon coming to my side. I had returned to my desk and had picked up Candide once again. After remembering the incident, I could not meet his eyes directly.  “No thank you, sir. I’m not hungry.” “Surely you must be. You are in need of proper nourishment now that you are truly well again.” This was true, for I had lost quite a lot of weight ever since my arrival at Heathcote. But I detested the idea of joining them, for it entailed much more than just eating. I would have to listen & participate in their conversations, and have to pretend to be interested. When I did not answer him, he came closer and asked if I was okay. “I’m fine, Mr. Laufeyson. I just don’t believe that I should join you and your guests at mealtimes.” I remarked straightforwardly. He frowned at my words. “Why not?” I let out a sigh and set down the book. “It’s obvious that Miss Browne and I are not likely to get along, and I do not want to spoil her time here. It would be unfair, and inconsiderate of me, to do so. I think it will be best for me to take my meals alone.” He sullenly regarded what I had spoken for a moment and eventually nodded. “I guess you are right, Victoria. I will not require your presence at meals then, despite how much I want you to join us. However, I hope you may grace us with your company after dinner. Mr. Browne will be very upset if you do not come, and I actually have a surprise to show you.” I wondered what type of surprise he had in store. Yet I did not regard this matter in my answer. “You can assure Mr. Browne that I promise to play later this evening.” “Good.” He smiled with satisfaction. “I will have Mrs. Cunningham send up your lunch then.” “Thank you, sir.” I had turned my attention back to the book, yet I felt him linger behind me for a moment before he opened the door and left.

¨¨¨°º0º°¨¨¨

Mr. Laufeyson stood before us all and he proceeded to pull the purple, silk cover off of the concealed object besides him. I immediately knew what it was. “What exactly is that thing?” asked Lavinia cluelessly. “It’s a stereoscope.” I said with confidence. I had met Mr. Laufeyson and his company in the small parlor room shortly after dinner. I had not yet played the piano for them, as Mr. Laufeyson had insisted on initially showing us his surprise. “Precisely, Victoria. They call it a Sweetheart Stereoscope to be exact, as it allows two people to view the same image at once. I could hardly get my hands on one in London because of how popular they’ve become.” Lavinia immediately stood up and moved towards the table. “Ooh, I want to try!” She cried out, her expression as similar as that of an whiny and eager child. To my incredulity, Mr. Laufeyson stopped her before she sat down in front of the stereoscope. “I was thinking that Victoria shall be the first to try it out with me, given that she has been confined to the environs of her bedchamber for the past couple of days. It would be beneficial for her to take in different views around the world.” “Of course.” Said Lavinia stiffly, with an air that clearly exhibited her irritation over Mr. Laufeyson’s decision. “I’ll play on the piano then, if you don’t mind.” Mr. Laufeyson gestured towards the piano gladly, as he then led me over to the small table that the stereoscope was placed on. Lavinia immediately began to play a Mozart sonata that I faintly recognized, but that I knew was a moderately difficult piece. She had sheet music before her and asked her father to turn the leaves for her. She began at a slow pace, yet was already stumbling with the notes.

Mr. Laufeyson and I took our seats at the table, which had two candlesticks besides the stereoscope to give off an ample amount of light for the device. No words passed between us until after my guardian had situated the first stereograph into the device. I peered into the viewer eagerly and was met with an image of a crowded street, filled with many pedestrians and carriages. “Wow! Just look at all of those people. Which city is this?” I asked, my eyes not leaving the viewer. “New York City.” He happily remarked from the other side of the machine. He gave me a few more moments to observe the stereo, before he lifted it out and replaced it with a new one. This next one was of a channel of water, encompassed by buildings, with an elaborate bridge above it. The stereograph also captured the various gondolas moving along the canal. I recognized it to be Venice, as I had been there before with my parents. I looked away from the viewer, and saw that his attention was still fixated upon the beauty of Venice. “Are you influenced by the stereo-mania craze, sir?” I asked. He peeked out from behind the stereoscope and flashed me a smile.“Yes, I have to admit that I am. I think stereographs are very fascinating. They enable you to view the world, without ever leaving your home. Are you not an admirer of this advancement?” “I certainly am, but I am even more intrigued by the actual process of capturing a photographic image than the different methods of viewing it. I think that the way in which an image is created by the combination of different chemicals, and the exposure to light, is perhaps the most innovative advancement of our age. It allows us to see projections of places, people, and even ourselves, in a whole new way.” I was then drawn back to the mystery of the daguerreotype of myself that he had in his possession, but I instantly rebuffed this thought by asking my guardian for his confirmation. “Wouldn’t you agree, sir?” “Yes, absolutely.” He grinned, before he turned to change the image in the viewer. “You are very bright, Victoria.” He said softly, in the midst of placing a new stereo card into the device. The way in which he spoke seemed as though it was an inward thought that he had not intended to publicly project. I didn’t know how to respond to his compliment, so I looked back into the viewer to observe the new image that he had set before my eyes. It was of a medieval castle nestled just before the grand Pyrenees in France. It reminded me of a stereograph that I used to google over back home. “My parents had a wide selection of stereos at home. I remember one, which was very similar to this one, of a man standing on the majestic Alps. He was so small in comparison to the vastness of the mountains that surrounded him.” I laughed delicately on remembering the joy that that particular stereo had given me. My parent’s large stereo collection had undoubtedly been sold off after they died… He must have noticed that I had drifted into a deep thought, for he waited a moment to respond. “I hope my collection is proving to be as pleasurable as yours.” “It is. Thank you, sir.” I expressed sincerely.

Miss Browne had been having a lot of difficulty throughout the entire time my guardian and I conversed, yet I was still taken aback by what she did next. She stormed off the piano and shoved the sheet music off the stand in frustration. With a groan, she trudged over to Mr. Laufeyson’s side and placed her hand on his arm. “Won’t I get a turn, Loki? I don’t want to play the piano anymore.” she cried. I spoke up before my master had the chance to say anything. “Please sit, Lavinia. I’m feeling a bit dizzy anyway from looking at so many.” I offered her my seat and she took it greedily without thanking me. There was a small bookcase in the room, that I hadn’t taken notice of before, and I headed in that direction in search of a book to pass the time. However, Mr. Browne came near me. “Young lady, I believe you said you would play some Beethoven for us?” I had momentarily forgotten about my promise. I looked towards Mr. Laufeyson to find that he was already watching me. He urged me forward with an encouraging nod, which went unseen by Lavinia as her full attention was on the stereoscope. “Oh, yes.” I said, as I headed towards the piano instead. I picked up the sheet music that Lavinia had thrown off before taking a seat on the bench. I then turned towards Mr. Browne, who had already sat down besides his wife, who looked at me condescendingly. “Any requests, sir?” “Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata?” I grinned, as I had partially expected this. “Of course.”

I did a quick scale to warm up my fingers before beginning. I was fortunate that this piece had always been requested at the parties my parents used to host, which had allowed me to become quite acquainted with it. As I played the piece from memory, it felt exhilarating to feel the weight of the keys when my fingers pressed down upon them, and to hear the notes resonate throughout the candle-lit room. I didn’t take notice of the others in the room, as I was once again fully concentrated on the music. This is why I became startled when midway through the piece Lavinia started yelling at my guardian. I did not falter nor stop, however. “I’ve seen this picture already! Why aren’t you paying attention, Loki?!” She said ferociously. He apologized to her, and swiftly changed the stereo to please her. But when her eyes returned to the viewer, his returned to me. I quickly looked back down at the keys upon meeting his twinkling, attentive eyes.

When I finished the piece, the booming applause of Mr. Browne and my master filled the room. This caused Lavinia to stomp off in rage, with her mother in tow. “Beautifully done, Miss Dowling.” said Mr. Browne, seemingly unaware of his daughter and wife’s brisk removal from the room. I thanked him and looked towards Mr. Laufeyson who had gone to the liquor cart and returned with two drinks for himself and Mr. Browne. “You play wonderfully.” He lifted the chalice to his lips and took a sip as he came to my side. “Now, how about another?” He challenged, as he opened the sheet music that Lavinia had attempted to play before. I resumed my seat. “I must admit that I am not completely familiar with this piece, but I will try my best.” My eyes darted across the notes inscribed on the leaves and I was confident that I would be able to deliver. “Very well. I shall be your page-turner.” He came nearer and the proximity between us was so close that I could smell the poignancy of his drink, as well as his cologne. However, I was not distracted by his nearness and he proved to be an excellent page-turner. He was attentive to every note that I played, for he knew exactly when to turn the page. My master and Mr. Browne continued to insist that I play more songs, which I did not mind due to the lengthy separation that I had from this beloved instrument of mine. I performed the limited amount of sheet music that Mr. Laufeyson owned, and also some more pieces from memory.

It wasn’t until Mr. Browne was well inebriated that my master insisted on retiring for the night. Although Mr. Laufeyson had the same amount of drinks as Mr. Browne, he seemed to hold his liquor quite well. Mr. Browne departed the room after assuring us that he would be able to find his bedchambers on his own and wishing us a good night. My master, however, would not allow me to return to my room on my own. “You must realize, Victoria, that there are no more available candlesticks in the room. I will not have you stumbling around the corridors in the dark.” I was distracted by a rustling sound in the corridor, and I thought it was probably one of the servants. But then I remembered how late it was, and that they were not regularly about at this hour. I turned my attention to my master. “I shall take a lone candle off of one of the sconces then, which will prove to be an adequate provider of light.” I asserted. “And have you burn your delicate fingers with dripping hot wax? No. That will not do, Victoria. Let me walk you to your chamber.” He stressed. I no longer argued with him, as I knew he was right. He guided me out of the room and towards the foyer, as we had to travel across it in order to reach the entrance of the west wing.

I was startled when I saw Lavinia standing in the midst of the large room, holding a candlestick in her hand and looking like an apparition in the same pale pink, silk dress that she had been wearing before. I knew she had been eavesdropping on us, given the sound I had heard in the corridor moments prior, and had found out exactly where we would be heading. “Loki, I need to talk to you. Now.” She said bitterly, animosity still raging inside of her. “I shall talk to you in the morning, Lavinia. It is far too late in the night for me to put up with your bickering.” Mr. Laufeyson urged me forward by placing his hand on my back. He did not want to stop for her. “I will not take no for an answer!” She wailed. I stepped away from Mr. Laufeyson, for I wished to leave so that he could console Lavinia in private. “Sir, please give me your candlestick. I will find my room on my own.” He handed me the candlestick, but ordered me to stay where I was. He then met Lavinia, who was crying, and took her hand in his. “It’s okay, darling. Everything will be alright. Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.” He then kissed her on the cheek sweetly, and I turned away at once, as I realized that I was infringing on their privacy. She obediently left without another word, and he sauntered back over to me. I handed him the candlestick back to him and we continued onto the west wing without speaking to one another. It wasn’t until we were at my door that he spoke to me again. “I hope you’ve had a pleasant evening, Victoria.” “Yes. Thank you, sir.” “And I also trust that you are no longer refraining from getting a good night’s sleep?” I momentarily could not look into his eyes. I had been restless the night before, as my fears had once again returned. “Yes-s, sir.” I finally said. He must have noticed that I was troubled by his question, for he then took my hand and pressed it gently. “Nothing will harm you at Heathcote, Victoria. You are safe here, I promise you.” “Not even the ghosts?” Although I was quite serious about my question, I asked it in humorous manner to conceal my fears. He chuckled lowly. “Although Heathcote is an old manor, and many souls must have come and gone throughout its history, I can assure you that there are no spirits within these walls.” His words consoled me so much that I smiled, and this expression of relief made him do the same. I bid my master goodnight and entered my room where a warm fire was waiting for me. I could hardly undress myself before I dozed off, exhausted yet utterly tranquil, under the heavy blankets of my bed.