#are they tears of joy? bewilderment? no one knows

[dove-da-birb]

Trey…… WHY?!

Many of them are interchangeable but I tried to limit myself to one per post. Anyways enjoys the boys beige flags. Pt 2

[timeforaneclipse]

Blood Countess (Lilia Calderu x Vampire!oc)

Warnings - Blood? Angsty?

Stuck at death's fingertips, people of the lone village screamed in fright and terror. The echoes of human screams sent shivers down nature's spine. The moonlight glittered on the gravel path. Nightly terrors seemed to haunt every corner of every tiny space. Many were killed brutally under the watchful cold eyes of the blood thirsty Countess. No one had known what had caused the countess' rage. Thick red blood splattered and coated the brick walls, Her powerful glare glimmered as the chaos raged on. Why? What was it all for? A small twitch of a half smile appeared on her ruby red lips. Howls of agonising pain played a beautiful melody in her head. The beat drummed and drummed and drummed in her twisted mind of unearthly nightmares. Was there such a thing as mercy? Little did they know, this was mercy. There was always something worse than death. Especially when it came to the cold hearted countess.

 The gleeful moon watched silently as humans were torn piece by piece by the work of demons and night's goons. A dark chuckle left the seemingly satisfied Countess. Winds of sorrow cried as she walked with the grace of one thousand queens. Gently, the wind moving her tightly curled fiery hair with the slight breeze that nature held. Shadows hugged the world with her presence. A truly beautiful but deadly sight. Blood coated her long dark red skirt and leather blouse coat much too similar the dark liquid that had been smeared around her lips. The smell was so intoxicating that it could knock you over like a tide wave. A man threw an axe at her with the fear of two hundred in his eyes. Oh how she revelled in it. It fed her. The ghostly woman stood shamelessly still as the axe raced towards her at the speed of light. Her sapphire eyes sparkled in inhuman joy as she caught it only a few inches away from her face. Her own blood was trickling down her palm. It never ceased to thrill her. It was exhilarating. There was a low unmatchable rumble of pleasure in her chest. She tutted at him and licked her glossy lips as she threw the sharp axe to the side as if it was nothing but a stick. Grace embodied every movement she made. It was as if she were a cat. At that moment she needed no weapon.  

 The man stared in total bewilderment. The crooked walls mirrored his expression. He hadn't expected such a reaction. The utter stupidity of humans bored her even beyond the grave. They were small minded fools that only were good for feeding. Her shrivelled up heart skipped. A gentle beat. They were only cattle to the red woman. Mere sheep to be brought to the slaughter. What may have appeared to be murder to you was just a simple daily chore for her. For you see, Killing a pig for you, is to kill a human for her. A growl left her ruby lips as she launched at the surprised man and lifted him by the throat. His tearful grey eyes pleaded with the stern ones of the unkind Countess. The man coughed violently in her tight grip. Her claw-like nails dug into his meaty flesh. Easily breaking the plumb skin while fresh warm blood trickled down and stained her fingers red. She dared to take a taste. It tasted like metal, the iron was much too high to her liking. It was too steel "Well... well.. you taste just as rotten as you look, La honte d'un homme etroit d'esprit." the woman purred. The man's face became tinted red. How revolting were human men? Large purple and black marks were already beginning to form from where her hands were around his neck. He gagged and struggled for air. It brought a Cheshire smile on The Countess rose lips. "Would you like a kiss, mon cherie? Don't you want to lay down and rest? I'll help you... just like I helped so many before you." she cooed in a motherly tone as her voice became more quiet and soothing. The man suddenly went limp. Did he want her help? Darkness shadowed his mind. In his relaxed state he didn't register the sharp fangs digging into his heavily abused neck. He could smell her rich perfume setting his mind a bliss. It smelt like fresh lavender with a mix of lemon. A cackle left her as she removed her lips from his neck. "I never did like men like you... they bore me even to this day." her voice came out like a whistle of the wind. His eyes flashed in terror as he saw his fate set out like the jewels of the queen. There was a large snap in the night as his body fell to the earth. The moon pale woman graciously licked her long bony feminine fingers clean.  

 Angry shouting could be heard from up ahead. Typical. Ruining her moment. A nimble blade could slice the think tension in the stale night air as suddenly it all went quiet. There was a dark cloudy smoke in the distance. Filling the air with dread and despair. Morning light seemed too far to grasp. The Countess glanced around the village until she spotted a familiar blood soaked blonde approaching with a predatory smile. "Are you well, my countess?" the flirtatious ditzy younger woman asked in a naive tone.

The Countess tried to grip onto her remaining patience as she looked into the Blonde's dark red eyes. Despite her rage, she had known that the younger woman had done well. "I am clearly injured, Lady Drusilla." The countess scoffed as she eyed the blonde with obvious distaste. The tall woman gave a sudden frown as she watched the massacre continue. Drusilla, ever the fool, inched towards the red headed woman as the young woman examined the down turned lips of her Countess. Braving herself, the young blonde asked if they were going to stop. Just like that.. There was mock silence. As if the screams of thousands of townsfolk had faded into nothing. Almost as if the world could hear the consequences of her mistake. The hardened eyes of the blood countess met the trembling girl's. "Are you speaking out against me, Wench?" She hissed like a snake. The taller woman leaned over her. Daring her to speak out of line again.  "I won't stop until we find her. Even if that means burning down each town and village, so be it. Let there be blood to answer." As the older woman growled, her fangs gleamed on display.  "You should be pleased. Tonight you can eat whatever livestock you want." As the countess began to walk away, stepping over the broken body of the man as she did, Drusilla let out a gentle breath of relief. But.. the woman stilled. "Oh and... Bring Sonia with you. She'll keep your right." As the woman turned to speak, her piercing eyes drove sword after sword into the girl. The blonde had to stop herself from groaning. She hated Sonia. 

Once the girl had left, The countess retreated down an Alley and bit the inside of cheeks before slamming her fist against the cold stone bricks that held the wall together. Covered by the cloaking shadows, the mighty woman glanced to the moon, its glow mocking her. Where was she? This was the third village that she had stormed this and there was still no sign of her beloved divination witch. Her body ached from the slaughter. Her cold dead heart even more so. What the devil was wrong with her. What should she care if Lilia died? She had lived without her before. She could certainly live without her now. Couldn't she? Before she knew it, her emotions were building. Emotions? What was she becoming? A blood curling scream came from the Vampires throat. A warning. 

"Countess." 

The rage on the blood countess' face grew once she saw the figure before her. "Did I not just order for Yourself and  Drusilla to continue the search!" The older woman snapped at Sonia, who had bowed her head in respect. The younger woman didn't flinch at the anger bestowed upon her. Sonia, a soft eyed woman despite the blood covering her mouth, took a step forward making the red headed woman's sharpened light blue eyes widen in utter disbelief. 

Giving her leader a delicate bloody smile, Sonia dared to take another step closer. "We found her." There was silence. Well, Apart from the ear deafening screams from the village food. Bewildered, The taller woman wasted no time in grabbing Sonia in a desperate grasp by the collar. Fondly, Sonia shook her head. Her hands coming to The Countess', lowering them away from her. "A nearby gatehouse to the west. An easy find. Near a river. The place reeks of death.." A chuckle came from the taller woman's throat as she listened to her confidant speak.  A gatehouse? Damn it all. "What's your command, Countess?" Her closest Adviser asked thickly. Taking a moment, piercing blue eyes ran over Sonia's blank expression. Then, without a word, the Monarch turned on her heels and walked towards the gatehouse. A blood bath sure to follow. 

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ

Rats scurried across the stone cold ground. Their little feet pattering around lightly. Lilia coughed, her body ached. Everything felt so numb and, yet some how, everything felt so broken. The darkness of the room was as thick as deep ocean water. The only source of light was coming from down the shallow hall where a guard had fallen into the depths of sleep. Women wailed and yelled. Crying for death to come and collect them so that the pain would end. Her dark exhausted eyes looked to the cell opposite hers and her gut twisted. There is the cold damp sat a small woman. Her blood oozing out of an open wound. Clearly, she had recently gone through a questioning. Lilia hissed in agony as she moved her hips so that she could sit more comfortably. What was all this for in the end? Half of these women weren't even witch kind. All of them were simply going through these tortures for the sake of terrified corrupt men. 

In that moment, water began to gather in the young witch's eyes. And she asked herself something dangerous. Why didn't she just stay with Nathalia in that damp dark deranged castle? The company of that.. self centred obsessive devil woman seemed much more preferable over the endless torture she had been through. Without warning, the door that led to the cells at the end of the corridor was blown of it's hinges. The brown eyed woman jumped in fright at the sight. The door flew all the way down the corridor and smashed in a million little pieces as it hit the floor. The man awoke from his slumber and nearly screamed in terror as he made eye contact with dangerous piercing sapphire eyes. He grabbed his weapon. Drusilla's laugh echoed in the background at his pathetic attempt to stand up to the countess. "Feast." The 5ft 11 woman hissed, showing off her fangs. 

At the countess' command, Drusilla launched. Attacking the man's neck. Gleeful in his agony, the redhead watched for a moment. Enjoying the show. However, she didn't waste to long in her excitement and began to look through the cells, her eyes practically glowing in the dark. Upon seeing the demon woman, Lilia sobbed in relief. "Nathalia." The witch croaked in pain. Her voice cracking. A weakness to it. The countess' head snapped in the direction of the sound. Her cat-like eyes softening immediately at the sight of her witch. Despite... being covered in dirt. The blood covered woman smirked and tried to hide her desperation to get to the divination witch as she threw open the bar door. Her heels clicked on the stone before she lean down to get a better look at the younger woman. Lilia flinched as the countess wiped the mud from her cheeks. 

"What do we do with the others, Countess?" Sonia asked, her face was as emotionless as ever as she interrupted the moment between the two. The countess glanced to all the tortured women around her. In truth, she didn't give a damn what became of the girls she wasn't there for just any livestock. Keeping her eyes on Lilia, the countess made her decision. A decision that took the room by surprise. Picking up the young woman, the countess bridal carried Lilia out of the cell. The divination witch's blood was tickling her nose. The scent was overbearing. Awakening an ancient part of her. Yet, the red head didn't dare take a bite. In her weakened state, Lilia hid her head in the older woman. Thankful for the small mercy. 

The taller woman walked through the room. "Let them free." Her voice hung in the air. Sonia's face relaxed as a small smile of interest played on her bloodied lips. Perhaps this divination witch was a healthy change for the usually dark hearted monarch. And that made Sonia feel a weight removed from her shoulders. When they made it out of the darkness of the gatehouse and into the cold night. The moon created them, Her glow vibrant. Lilia let out a breath of relief. Breathing in the fresh air, Lilia's tensed body went limps. The countess tilted her head then kissed her witch's forehead. "You're safe now.... rest." As Lilia drifted out of reality, the older woman bit the inside of her cheeks. A war was coming... and there was only so much she could do. 

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ

That's all, My darlings. Take my garbage. The countess Nathalia (Face claim Sigourney weaver) is a character I created in 2022 so I'm so happy I can use her for Lilia. Originally she was used for a personal story of mine that I abandoned in 2022. That's actually were the first part of this one shot is from. 

I would like to point out that I'm dyslexic so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Also apologies if i got the French completely wrong. I wrote that part in 2022 and I'm not fluent in French but the character is half French so i wanted her to have some French dialogue. I had to use google translate 😭

Is it good? How are we feeling? Tell me everything!! I'm always reading the comments and looking for your thoughts and taking them into account and they help a lot with motivation. This was originally going to be smutty but I decided to keep it sweet. 

If you want more of these two together PLEASE let me know as I do love writing about my lesbians. 

Lot's of love and I hope to see you in the future! 💜

(Remember to continue to thank and praise Patti Lupone in our prayers)

Tag list (If you wanna be tagged for all patti fics lemme know) -

@macnbriee @damagnificentcookie

[hyunjin-amore]

Strawhats react to S/o giving them kisses

Luffy

Luffy might not be used to getting kisses from people, so his initial reaction would probably be one of surprise and bewilderment. But since he's an adventurous and fun-loving guy, he would probably reply with a mix of joy and laughter. He might give you a big hug or playfully return the kisses. Given Luffy's reputation for being carefree and impulsive, he would be happy to receive the affection and relish the occasion.

Zoro

If his significant other started kissing him, Zoro would probably react with a mix of surprise and nervousness. He might not be accustomed to or anticipate such loving gestures because he is a somber and serious character. On the other hand, he would secretly value his S/O's love and attention. At first, he might try to ignore it or appear indifferent, but a tiny blush or smile could be visible on his face. All in all, even though he might not verbally thank you, his sweetie's kisses would undoubtedly have an effect on him.

Sanji

Sanji's response would be significantly different from Zoro's. Given his reputation for flirting and his unwavering quest for love and affection, Sanji would be ecstatic to receive kisses from his significant other. He would probably be ecstatic and express his gratitude honestly, grinning broadly and perhaps even displaying some tearful reactions. Sanji would probably tell his sweetie how fortunate he is to have such a caring and loving partner while complimenting her. He would feel loved and appreciated by the kisses, and he would probably reciprocate with more kisses and tender gestures.

Franky

 

Given his exuberant nature and fondness for ostentatious and ostentatious things, Franky would undoubtedly react enthusiastically if his partner planted kisses on him. It would probably take him a while to realize what was going on, but then his signature smile would appear on his face. In response, Franky would react with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a hint of his signature "SUPER" excitement. He may even flex his muscles or strike a pose to express how much he appreciates the affection. Franky would probably give his S/O bear hugs and maybe even a few playful kisses in return, kissing them with the same intensity.  All in all, Franky would be overjoyed and would interpret this show of affection as evidence of his close relationship with his partner.

Nami

Given her reputation for practicality and financial acumen, Nami might be surprised at first when her partner plants kisses on her. She may be a little doubtful or even suspicious, wondering if the show of affection is being made for a different reason. But her attitude would soften as she began to understand that it was a sincere and heartfelt gesture.

Nami would probably react in a way that was both surprising and grateful. She may blush or smile shyly, expressing her love in a more subdued manner. Even though Nami isn't as ostentatious or showy as some of the other members of the Straw Hat crew, she would undoubtedly value the consideration and care that went into the gift.

Nami could show her appreciation in a pragmatic manner by providing something in exchange, such as surprising her partner with a special dinner or doing something kind for them. Even though Nami might not be very touchy-feely or affectionate, she would know how important it is to return the favors. In the end, she would strengthen her relationship with her partner and interpret it as a sign of trust.

Robin

As the cool-headed archaeologist on the Straw Hat team, Robin would probably respond to her partner kissing her in a calm and considerate way. She would be thoughtful and mature in her response, and she would appreciate the loving gesture.

Robin would probably give you a warm smile and maybe a gentle touch in return for your kisses. She would thank her partner for their affection and cherish the closeness and connection they shared. Given her reputation for intelligence and analysis, Robin might also pause to watch her partner's actions, attempting to decipher the motivations and feelings that underlie the gesture.

Even though she wouldn't say it out loud, Robin would show her gratitude with her words and deeds. She could give her partner a heartfelt thank you or communicate her emotions in a cool, collected manner. Robin would be able to appreciate the importance of the situation and her partner's faith in her, strengthening their relationship.

All things considered, Robin's answer would be considerate and genuine, demonstrating her depth of feeling and comprehension of her partner's loving gesture.

Usopp

The bold and creative sniper of the Straw Hat team, Usopp, would react more animatedly if his sweetheart planted a kiss on him. Recognized for his theatrical demeanor and exaggerated facial expressions, Usopp would probably be surprised by the gesture of affection but would probably end up being delighted.

When his partner planted a kiss on him, Usopp would look wide-eyed and shocked at first. He might even make funny gestures with his arms or trip over his words. But as the shock wears off, a broad smile appears on his face, showing how happy he really is.

Usopp wouldn't think twice about showing his partner how happy and appreciative he is of their affection. He may give a hearty applause or perhaps start to jump up and down. Usopp is well known for inflating tales and feelings, so he would show his significant other a lot of love and praise.

Usopp may even feign being overcome by the kisses, swooning dramatically or playfully acting as though he's weak in the knees, all in his trademark exaggerated style. His partner would feel valued and loved by his lively and playful response.

All things considered, Usopp would be ecstatic to receive a kiss from his significant other, and his trademark humor would be present as well. He would take advantage of the chance to show his partner how much he cared in a lighthearted and entertaining way, making the moment enjoyable and unforgettable for both of them.

[great20sworld]

LIVING THE DREAM

A Viktor x Reader fanfiction

Author's note: Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7 and chapters 8 are available in my Tumblr page along with summary.

⚠️ Disclaimer ⚠️: Societal aspects appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real world aspects are purely coincidental.

Chapter 9: Not You

________________________

"You have to leave."

Viktor says in one breath, his gaze travelling anywhere but meeting yours. After you, Jayce and him defied gravity by charging up the 'Hexcrystals' (as per Jayce's method of nomenclature) Heimerdinger had given permission for Jayce to transfer his research materials into a new workspace where he could proceed to investigate the potential of the crystals. Jayce had been overjoyed, and overwhelmed so much so that he had to resist the urge to show tears of joy in front of his new friends.

However, even the exhilaration of discovery and development wasn't enough to tackle the exhaustion which had come hand in hand with the time, energy and effort put into your frantic work. Afterall, even great minds require rest- more than the layperson sometimes (or so Heimerdinger said). With the final promise that his equipments and research would be safely preserved until used again, Jayce and you were allowed to leave. However, Viktor was detained by his old professor.

He looked like a deer caught in headlights when Heimerdinger called him back into his office. Even though Jayce and you immediately backtracked at the professor's words because you feared Viktor may get punished, you were both sent on your merry way, you back to Gina's house and Jayce back to his (although you spent some time in the astronomy department with someone you found very interesting).

Nothing could hinder Viktor's giddy attitude from last night- or so you thought.

Oh, how innocently wrong you were.

The next day when you sauntered you way into the academy, (recieving looks full of admiration and awe from some students and researchers who were passing by, some who knew you from your immense strength to carry huge cartons, and some who heard scarce rumours from yesterday), you did not expect to get yanked into Viktor's office by the man himself.

"Woah- there are better ways to ask for an autograph, Vikt-..."

Your grin immediately fades at the sight of Viktor's expression.

Well, you can now say you've seen your favourite character's "displeased to the umpteenth degree" expression in the first person. Also, conflicted.

Which brings you to the present moment.

"What do you mean I need to leave?" You furrowed your brows as Viktor closes the door behind you, to avoid the students trying to peek in. Your bewilderment was being greatly distracted at the sight of Viktor's small cozy office, though you try your best to keep up with his seriousness.

"You know exactly what I mean." Viktor says, turning back to you, not a hint of a smile on his handsome face.

"You need to leave...the academy, the project, whatever you're involved with...associated with me. We cannot keep this up."

Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up your forehead, as your lips part in an incredulous scowl. "What...! I can't leave! You said it yourself, I'm your...."

"You're not my assistant." He interrupts, tapping on his desk for emphasis. "I don't know what I was thinking when I said that to Medarda- but I'm taking it back now. You're not. Overlooking the fact that you don't even work here!" You couldn't help but notice slight hesitation in between his sentences, as if he was drilling himself to say it. Not to mention the discomfort he felt in addressing you like a disobedient student under his tutoring.

As he was searching for words, you interfere, your tone measured and your countenance sober for once, arms folded over your chest, leaning forward.

"What did Heimerdinger say to you yesterday?"

He stops, his gaze finally settling on yours. A glimmer of dither played in his eyes before he snaps back at you.

"This is not about-"

"What. Did. He say?" You emphasise your point, mimicking him and tapping on his desk with your forefinger, ignoring the delirious way your mind fixates upon the way his hair seems to be defying the laws of physics whenever his head moved.

After a heavy sigh, he presses his forefinger and thumb over his eyes rubbing them lightly. "He was agitated. Well, despite us inventing something chaotically phenomenal overnight, he was upset about all the academy codes I, as his assitant had broken. Stealing one of the confiscated items, sneaking into his office, bringing someone who is banned from the academy with me into said office...." He counts of on his slender fingers as he lists of his "crimes".

Another shaky sigh leaves his chest.

"...and, where do I come in on this?" You ask nonchalantly.

That only irritated him further. "Didn't you hear me? I've broken enough academy rules already and gotten myself two weekends worth of extra work as repercussion, an unregistered assistant... shouldn't be one of the rules I've broken."

"Ha! Well too late!" You hit the table lightly, grinning triumphantly. "Jayce already accepted me for hextech work, and technically, he is the one I should be listening to on that matter."

Without missing a beat, he says, "Jayce didn't say that."

"Yes he did!"

"Not officially - not legally. You are still someone who is completely unrelated- In the eyes of the academy."

"Well then tell him to add me legally..." You raise one eyebrow.

Viktor facepalms, shaking his head (you repress the urge to tuck a strand of errand hair behind his ear gently). "It is not so simple! Were you a student of the academy?"

"...No."

"Are you in training here?"

"Uh..."

"Are you involved in any research here?"

"Well...um-"

"Ignoring all that..." Viktor gestures vaguely, "you haven't even undergone the apprenticeship process, not given the interview! Haven't been assessed properly by me! I'd know, I haven't seen you in the list."

To say you were defeated seemed like an understatement. You found your arms dangling at your sides helplessly, mind wandering.

"I'm sorry..." Viktor's gaze lifts from you, fixing on splotches of dried old ink on his desk. "But if anyone, Heimerdinger being the worse case- notices that you are... Unidentified regarding the documents, you could meet worse fates than being told off from my office."

"I helped you guys..."

"Y/N..."

"You're supposed to be thanking me or even getting my legal documents taken care of, for what I did yesterday..."

"Y/N I am not going to get you into troubling territories just because you're capable of helping us, with work!" Viktor's voice hardens, his hands gesturing palms open in stressed undertones.

Your lips adjust themselves into a scowl, but deep inside you were desperate.

"Why do you even care so much about the rules, anyways? You are from the undercity and..."

The sudden commanding impact of the metal on the end of his cane with the tiles beneath you, silences you so suddenly that you flinch at the noise.

"And what...?" The voice you so loved wasn't warm nor agitated. It was cold, harsh, chilling you to the bone. "Yes, I'm from the undercity, does that equal rebellious and uncaring of propriety? Perhaps I could only achieve by breaking the rules?" The way his eyes narrowed piercing your soul with those amber eyes were beyond disconcerting, you would have felt better if he had punched you.

"Viktor no- I....that is not what I meant, I meant you are rebellious in the umm...good way...?"

You should shut up.

"Leave. I have another assistant, someone who won't question me! Dismissed." You could tell those jaws we're clenched as he spoke between gritted teeth.

You wanted to run. But your steps seemed unhurried as if still being pulled towards the man you admired. The slam of the door behind you almost brought tears to your eyes. To escape the staring of startled passerby students, you walk outside, your adventure over even before it began, your heart beating fast as the shameful shade of red took over your cheeks and eyes filled with tears.

______________________________

The cacophonous symphony of the metal laden machinery ploughing its way into the thick groves in the backside of the academy in an attempt of destructive progress was somewhat succeeding in the duty you assigned it to do in your own mind- drowning out the words echoing in your brain spoken from hatred you didn't deserve. Your mind subconsciously lingered on the plumes of dust and smoke rising as gravel was crushed beneath the machinery- each a part of a bigger boulder once upon a time, now flecks of stone, your gaze travelling up and above the skeletal framework of the buildings.

You had contemplated rushing straight to Gina's, but then stopped yourself at the self depreciating voice clawing at the back of your head for being a burden; pulling that poor soul away to lament about your inconsequential attempts at accompanying the one you admired in his works and passions. No, you couldn't disturb Gina. You had already done your duties for the day, helped her out with the big crates from the factories which supplied the raw materials, did most of the cleaning, taken her son to his school and even tried helping with the baking (keyword being "try" here, but she was kind enough to complement you).

So you had lost your way in wandering around the huge localities covered by academy buildings. If anyone asked though, you would say it's intentional, to be poetic about it in your own stinging loneliness. You had tried talking with the super intelligence tied to your wrist, it's mechanical monotone not reaching anywhere near to human comfort.

What would machines know of the heart?

Strangely, you were glad this wasn't the only instance where you found yourselves by yourselves though. It was clearly obvious that you preferred your own company more than anyone else's. That didn't make the memories of your own failed experiments and rejected theory proposals along with unpleasant lab accidents any less embarassing or painless. You had tried your level best to not create mistakes in the much more technologically and scientifically developed world- where you came from. You loathed the fact that most of them still lead to debacles, but you prides yourself on the fact that none of those blunders seemed to make you love science any less, no matter who criticized you.

Why was criticism from Viktor any different?

You scold your foolish heart in being so tender to the cuts inflicted on it by the one it yearns for. He wouldn't even have noticed, you were sure. No, his heart was promised to progress and the depths upto which he could plough into wisdom of sciences.

Weren't yours too?

You didn't know. Not anymore.

A sudden tap on your shoulder snaps you out of your reverie. Startled, you turn, to be met with the silhouette of a massive man standing right behind you. You stumble forward, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of his face as he stood blocking the sun. At this angle, he looked powerful, his arms huge with muscles, face scarred and marked with such strange marks that you wouldn't dare to venture into the tales of how they came to be. The man was practically glowering down at your smaller form like you were his deadly enemy.

Suddenly, your eyes catch sight of the veins throbbing in his temples and arms. There was no mistaking it. It was imprints of something which had flowed through his veins, a testament to endless torture from where he served the monsters. The veins were....

Dangerously purple.

______________________________

SLAM!

Sky Young winces, her shoulders raising nearly upto the tips of her ear when the loud sound rings out in the hallway.

Was that Viktor's office door?

Who just left?

She quickens up her pace on her way to his office. Viktor had asked her to meet him. She sees you walking outside, rather briskly.

"Y/N....?" She calls out, but her call did nothing to slow her down, as she walked out. Maybe she didn't hear her? Her gaze darts to Viktor's office.

What happened?

Sky enters Viktor's office, slowly swinging the door open partially as if something will jump out- to see him sitting hunched over in his desk, his head in her hands.

The creak of the door alerts him,

"I told you to get out- oh!" Sky is taken aback by the uncharacteristic grimace resting on his face until he catches sight of her, to which he quickly adjusts his expression to an agitated smile.

No. Not smile. A stretch of the lips.

"Um...good morning?" Sky smiles softly, walking in.

"Good morning Sky..." Viktor says quickly, sitting up straighter.

"...Is everything alright?" She asks cautiously.

"Yes, ofcourse everything's fine. Please, sit down, I have something to ask of you." Viktor says, his hand quickly searching in the desk to draw out some papers from files.

Sky sits down, placing her own clipboard on the desk. It contained information of the latest interviews and examination details of the new training researchers to be recruited into the academy. Something about it bothered her extremely to the point where she decided she must discuss it with her trusted friend, Viktor. However, since he had called her here first, she lets him speak first.

"So, me and Jayce Talice..." He began, a bit unsure on how to go about the news.

"Oh! Yes, I've heard!" Sky suddenly says, grinning. "Hextech...right?"

"How did you know?"

"Word travels fast..." She chuckles, looking at him. "Although, you could have contacted me to handle lab safety procedures before you began... experimentation. I was still working in the astronomy tower..." She smiles kind naturedly.

"Y-yes, about that... I, I'm sorry that I didn't contact you sooner for this but, I need your help now."

"Ofcourse Viktor, I'm your assistant." She says, and dismisses the slight flinch from him as a result of sleep deprivation.

"Well, you are also... assistant to many others. Around the academy. You work in different departments for lab procedures and measurement system controls..." Viktor says, pulling out a sheet of paper titled "Lab Assistant Transfer certificates". Sky's eyes scans the paper.

"This field, that has newly opened up now, and with many possibilities, some of which we are sure of and some of which we are still exploring is bound to get hectic and very busy for us to handle without a... permenant assistant in the field. Might I ask you to be...that assistant?" He smiles, politely handing her the page. "I can assure you this would be worth your time and effort!" He adds.

Sky beams. "Yes! I'd be more than happy to help!" She exclaims.

As Viktor smiles, reaching out for the pen for her to sign the document with, she suddenly asks, "what about Y/N? She'll be there too, right?"

"W-what?" Viktor stutters.

"Y/N, She'd be working with me then, right?" Sky smiles, looking for an affirmation.

"Sky...what are you saying!" Viktor says, as if shocked. "I just send her away!"

"Send her away?! Why?" Sky asks, surprised.

"She is not from the academy! Neither is she in training, she cannot..."

"But she did help you both, didn't she?" Sky interferes, confused.

She could see viktor's lips tremble slightly. Nervous, was he?

"Sky, no, not you too! You don't understand..." He rambles, running a hand through his hair. "Heimerdinger, if he found out... For heaven's sake, we would be going against the academy laws if we let her stay!"

Sky chuckles, looking at him incredulously. Viktor hesistates.

"What's so funny?" He asks, irritated.

"Viktor take a look at this." Sky slides her clipboard with the names of the newly recruited assistants towards Viktor, along with their qualifications listed on the side.

"The majority of the people chosen here in order to research and work in their respective fields in the academy, are from Piltover. Now, if you look here..." She taps the qualification papers. "And study it closely, you can clearly see that many from the undercity have been turned down, even when they are obviously more qualified to be studying and working here. They don't offer them the opportunity to grow and prosper with knowledge...." Sky says, her brilliant mind outraged.

"....because they're from the undercity." Viktor finishes her sentence in a murmur, as if his head is afloat amoungst the clouds. He felt lied to. Betrayed.

"Yes. Upon closer inspection, Viktor I was able to recognise that a lion's portion of these people who have been accepted have been accepted by financial support alone. There's even special priority for people who are in Piltover as per this special category, for crying out loud!" Sky's frustration only grew.

Viktor hadn't paid much attention to this before. The academy of piltover had posed as a prestigious central sector of knowledge and opportunities for all. The all coming with "some terms and conditions apply" dulled the beauty and glory with which the academy had stood- for him atleast.

"Viktor... Do you remember?" Sky continues, her voice hushed and gentle, as she remembers a painful memory. "When you helped me prepare my own resume to enter the academy research sectors, there were... Countless other piltovian competitors. You encouraged me still in this path and you stood up for me when the time came."

Ofcourse Viktor remembers it. How he had spent hours consoling Sky about what she had to face during her interviews, enraged at the system itself, and standing by her side for open defense of her proposals to the research fields, which took weeks, his voice was heard those days. Defending the undercity in whatever minute ways he could, however fast on his mind he had to be, was one of his passions even in his soft spoken tongue.

That endeavour had turned out to be fruitful and Sky had been accepted, immediately offering to be part time assitant to him. His lips gently lift upwards at the memory.

"All I'm saying is, the people who actually need the opportunity to continue on the path of knowledge, to seek discoveries and those who actually have the intellect and passion to do so, atleast the passion to learn are pushed away in the name of prejudice; you know that. Why fuel a system which is already deteriorating because of its own posion? Why obey their rules?" Sky questions him.

He had no answer.

"Viktor, we are from the undercity- we know what it felt like to have our chances ripped away from us, we won't stand for this, would we?"

Viktor remembers your words. "you're from the undercity...!" You had said passionately to him, and he had pushed you away, with the false notion that your words would contain nothing but disdain and prejudice.

How could he? He drove away a bright soul...

"Please... Please call her back, I didn't know that was what had happened before but, we can still fix this!" Sky says desperately.

Truthfully, she had met the starry eyed young woman who had turned around the fate of piltovian technology last night in the astronomy tower. You were the one who had told her everything, who had enthusiastically hinted that Viktor would indeed call upon her to transfer her various department jobs into a singular, better one (and how accurate you had been!).

She had found a kindred spirit last night in the tower, one who liked to eccentrically mess around with the rules governing natural philosophy until something strikes and changes the perspectives of everything. Hextech being only one of them, sky truly believed. Sky was ecstatic to know that she would also be working with them, on this new unfamiliar but exciting path of discovery. To hear that Viktor had send her away was equivalent to having something shatter inside her- something she needed the most.

A friend. Someone who understood.

She liked you and she had a transient feeling Viktor did too.

The sound of Viktor's sigh brings her back to the present. He was standing up now, cane clutched nervously in his hand, his fingers tap-tap-tapping away at the handle.

"What if...what if she gets in trouble for this?" A nervous tap on the desk.

"Do you think she would care? Didn't you see her, Viktor..." Sky implores, her eyes wide. "I don't know if you've noticed, but pretty sure she'd be the last person to be frightened about getting into trouble with the academy. Besides, she's strong..." A small chuckle sounds from her. "Quite literally."

She is pleased to see a small smile creeping its way upto Viktor's lips. "She is. Smart too..."

"Then why are we still here?" Says Sky, standing up, as Viktor already makes his way to the door.

"Let's go bring her back!"

_________________________________

Chapter 10 available NOW in my Tumblr page.

[pannman]

I got a request. The confrontation with Valentino at the club in "Welcome To Heaven" escalates and Sir Pentious takes an angelic bullet for Angel Dust, which lands his redeemed soul right in the middle of the Heaven Court.

Ok, VERY interesting concept I love it!

The Selfless Snake

Tw: Blood, mention of toxic relationship, slight angst, not sure if this counts as Canon character death since he is technically still alive

Sir Pentious saw Angel's face when he saw his boss. He didn't know the full extent of what was going on but he knew that it was serious. He had been trying to work up the courage to court Cherri bomb though failing epicly and hilariously every time. But he was ready to leave when everyone else was after seeing that Angel was so serious. And that was the plan. Until sweet oblivious darling Niffty took off in the worst possible direction. Angel tried to stop her but in the act Valentino saw him.

This lead a confrontation and Angel held his ground. Standing up to him which Pentious could tell was a hard thing for him to do. Angel got his point across and it seemed that although he would pay for it later today he had won. But as Angel turned Pentious noticed that infernal Moth pull out a blessed pistol. In an act of instinct he pushed Angel out of the way taking the bullet himself. He felt shooting pain up his spine and a pound of pressure from the point of entry before he fell to the ground.

Angel upon realizing was in shock and in tears. Sir pentious grabbed at the gapping bloody hole in his chest. He wasn't long for this world. He thought for sure he was a goner... but then he blinked.

"The court finds no evidence that- huh? What!?!" the woman speaking gasped with a look of shock and bewilderment. Gasps followed by whispers flooded the room. Sir Pentious though confused and a little scared waved awkwardly and smiled. "Hello" his discomfort was lessened when he heard a familiar voice.

"Pentious?!?" Charlie gasped her eyes wide in disbelief before joy took over. "You've-You've been redeemed!!!" Vaggie was next her looking surprised as well but also a little hurt though Pentious didn't know why. Charlie tried to gather her bearings and plead with the court. "Look there's proof right there! It can be done. We've done it!" The gasps rose around the room once again along with judging glances at the woman in charge. Pentious simply stayed silent and slightly confused.

Charlie before continuing looked over at Vaggie with a look of conflict and uncertainty before smiling and taking her by the hand. "Heaven may have been wrong about the exterminations but that doesn't mean that things can't change. That heaven can't right these wrongs. If we put on this belief that we are perfect we never try to improve. And this here is proof that people can improve. So why can't heaven do the same?" The quiet in the room gave away that everyone could tell she had a point. The woman in charge looked over at the smaller one who pleaded with her with her eyes.

She sighed. "This does change a lot. And it does warrant our attention to at least give it a chance. We will put the exterminations on hold for now while we assist with your redemption plan and do our own research. And if it plays out right... then maybe there is a future where the yearly extermination is eradicated for good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have much to discuss with my superiors" everyone exited and Charlie threw her arms around Pentious in literal tears.

"I can't believe my eyes! I'm so proud of you! But what happened? We stopped watching after Angel confronted Valentino." Sir pentious had a lot to tell them. "Well, it was quite intense I must say- wait what do you mean watching?"

[selfcestmovies]

Arm Candy Yelena Belova x Yelena Belova (withlots of Kate x Yelena angst) Wordcount: ~3000 Tags: light angst, wandanat wedding, background bishova Warnings: smut, selfcest, oral sex Link on AO3

~ * ~ * ~

Yelena should have been thrilled.

"You're getting married?!" Her sister Natasha had been dating Wanda Maximoff for a few years, and if the announcement was to be believed, they were finally tying the knot. Yelena wanted to show nothing but joy for Nat in that moment... but it was hard to suppress the look of terror that crept across her face.

Nat was utterly bemused. "I know it's a big change, but c'mon Yel, I thought you'd at least be a little happy for us..."

"No, no Natasha, I am happy for you," Yelena tried to explain before swallowing her pride and admitting the root cause of her panic. She could feel the tears beginning to swell. "But weddings mean parties, Natasha, and parties mean that you and Wanda will invite all of your friends. Including," she choked back the upswell in her chest. "Including Kate Bishop."

Nat nodded. "Oh, I see..." She knew about Yelena and Kate — everyone did, at this point. Their breakup had been messy, and recent. The emotions were undoubtedly still raw.

"No, you don't," Yelena continued. "Because Kate will bring a date, Natasha, I know she will. And I won't be ready for that. AT ALL."

The weeks that followed were uneasy for the blonde Black Widow. Through the grapevine, Yelena was able to confirm that yes, indeed, Kate had made the guest list. Wanda had insisted and Nat didn't post much of an objection. And yes, once the dust had settled, it did seem that Kate was bringing a plus-one. Yelena re-entered full panic mode.

"Then I won't go," she said from Nat's couch, after a late-night visit to vent. "Plain and simple."

"You're coming to my wedding," Natasha countered flatly. "Just bring a date to make Kate jealous."

"Who?!" Yelena sounded hysterical. "Who on EARTH could make Kate Bishop jealous. She's literally the most beautiful, perfect human, Natasha. The only person she'd be jealous of is me, and I'm the person she dumped!"

Nat tried to collect her thoughts for a counter, but she could see the glint in Yelena's eye. It looked maniacal. "Wait," Natasha asked cautiously, "What are you cooking up, Yelena?"

Yelena grinned. "The perfect idea. Call Wanda."

What followed was a many-hours-long brainstorm between Yelena and Wanda about the "perfect" scheme. Wanda was truly happy to be included. She had been looking for any possible way to bond with Nat's adoptive sister, so was very open to at least humor Yelena's ideas. Possibly more than Nat was comfortable with.

When Yelena and Wanda were finally ready, they updated Natasha on the genius new plan. "You're going to bring who as a date?!" Nat couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Myself," Yelena nodded. "Have you not been listening, Natasha? Wanda is going to conjure me a clone and I'll take myself to the wedding. We'll pretend that it's an ultimate act of self-love, or some shit like that, but really, it's just going to drive Kate Bishop off the wall!"

Wanda was nodding along. "I think it's a beautiful idea, Yelena. Really."

Nat rolled her eyes. "How is that going to make Kate jealous?"

Yelena seemed excited to explain the details for the umpteenth time. "Because it'll be me with me, Natasha! Two mes. Dancing and flirting and in acting love with each other. Kate won't be able to take her eyes off of us."

Nat glanced at Wanda for support before bringing her gaze back to Yelena in bewilderment. "And you want that?"

"What? No," Yelena said like it was obvious. "I don't want to be in love with myself, but I do want Kate to think that I am. And it'll be worth it, just to see the look on her face. And then we'll get back together." Yelena punctuated the thought with a nod. It seemed, despite Natasha's concerns, that the idea had been settled.

Nat kept rolling her eyes for the next two months, but quite frankly, it was nice to see Yelena finally excited about something for the first time in eons. She had energy and optimism again. She seemed like her old self.

And most importantly, Yelena was finally excited for the wedding. Nat didn't want to squash these feelings, but she was still worried that the scheme was going to somehow end in disaster. It seemed far too twisted to go smoothly.

When she went with Yelena to help her pick out a dress, it felt like Nat's final chance to talk some sense into her younger sister.

"So, you're still going through with it? The whole 'dating yourself' thing?"

Yelena nodded emphatically, picking out her next dress to try on. "Yes. It's a brilliant plan. And I've been speaking with Wanda — lovely girl, by the way, I can see why you like her — and she's mastered the conjuration spell. She says it'll really be two of me, both of us indistinguishable from the real Yelena. This will go off perfectly."

Nat forced a fake smile, "Great." Yelena shut the curtain in the dressing room. Nat had to speak up. "And when is this 'cloning' going down?"

"Right before," Yelena shouted back. "Obviously. I don't want to have to get my hair done twice, Natasha. Use your brain."

"Of course. So which one of you will give the toast?"

"We're doing it together, both of us," Yelena spoke like the answers were clear. Like she was making perfect sense. "That's how I've written it, at least."

Nat rested her forehead in her palms. Was she the only person in the world who saw this plan as utterly insane? "You still have time to find a real date, Yelena. I could set you up with people. Nice, hot people. Maybe you'd actually like them—"

"—I don't want to like them," Yelena stepped from the changing area. She was wearing a low-cut satin dress that caught the light in ripples of cyan and green. She looked stunning. "I don't want to date anyone other than Kate. And once I make her boil over with envy, she and I will be fine again. Besides, I need her to believe it when she sees me attracted to somebody else, and I don't think I could fake that with a random person." Yelena turned to look at herself in the mirror, turning to the side to check out the dress from all possible angles.

"And you're planning to act that way with another you, Yel. Doesn't that sound... awful?"

Yelena paused as she checked herself out in the mirror. "If I'm wearing this dress and looking this good... I can manage," she smirked over her shoulder at Nat. "I think this is the one."

Nat didn't give up. Even after Yelena had bought the dress and the two were grabbing coffee. "But, like, Yel," Nat was ready to pull our her hair by this point, "You're you. How believable can this really be?"

"I've thought of that," Yelena responded flatly. "Weird at first, but I've come to terms with my limits. I'm okay with flirting, dancing, making out, all of it. It might be good, actually, in a weird way."

Natasha nearly spat out her drink. "Kate is going to think you might actually sleep with yourself if you act that way."

"You're right," Yelena looked to Nat earnestly, "She might think it, but I need to her to believe it for certain. We should probably go further," Yelena took out a pad and pencil and began jotting down some notes. "We should probably actually hook up. Maybe in a public place, where Kate will find us." She stroked her chin, "Would I be okay going down on myself? Yes, I think so."

At that, Natasha got up and left the table. She wasn't mad at Yelena, and the blonde knew it, but this plan had spiraled far out of Natasha's comfort zone. "I wish you the best," she shouted back to Yelena, "But this is all on you when shit hits the fan."

By the time the wedding approached, Yelena was on pins and needles. Her nerves about seeing Kate at the party were bursting at the seams, but Yelena knew her plan could work if she gave it her all. The day of the wedding she headed to the venue early to get herself ready, making sure all the details of her outfit, hair, makeup, everything was picture perfect. She was her own date, after all — she needed to look amazing. Twenty minutes before showtime, Wanda knocked on her door.

"Are you ready, Yelena?" Wanda was already in her gown. She looked stunning.

Yelena hugged her, thanked her, and the incantation began.

Just minutes later, Yelena strut outside and towards the awaiting venue, hand in hand with a flawless, indiscernible duplicate of herself.

"People are staring," Yelena whispered to the clone.

"I think that's sort of the point," the other Yelena smiled back. It was true — the number of guests that seemed bewildered at Yelena's "appearance" was growing second by second.

"Just smile and wave," one whispered and tightened her hand around the others. It felt comforting to know she could trust this new partner implicitly and wholly. "You see Kate yet?"

"Mhmm," the other replied and nudged Yelena to look subtly to their left. Kate was there all right, looking stunning in a violet suit, her jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of the two Yelenas. They waved in sync. "I think this might actually work."

The ceremony was beautiful; Wanda and Nat exchanged heartfelt vows in both English and Sokovian, with Natasha struggling adorably through the latter. Yelena teared up — both of her.

They had largely lost sight of Kate during the rest of the ceremony and during cocktail hour, but every so often one Yelena would spot her through the crowd, gawking at the duo. Yel would promptly hold hands with the clone, or sneak a hug around her hips, or a forced flirty giggle, step by step to help sell the illusion of romance. It wasn't as weird as she had thought it might be. In fact, she was finding it fun — she was less inhibited than she had ever been around other people.

Once time for the reception came around, the two Yels stood to give their toast — just as she had rehearsed it in the mirror, the two trading lines, leaning into some witty back-and-forth, and of course ending with her favorite line of all, spoken in tandem: "For us, it took learning to love ourselves to realize how true your love is, Natasha and Wanda. Cheers to a beautiful marriage."

They raised their glasses for a collective cheers. The room clapped. Yel leaned towards the clone. "Kiss me."

"What?" She was taken aback by the whisper. "Now?"

"Kiss me. Kate is watching us. This will be perfect."

The Yelenas leaned in and made it a show — not too over the top, mind you, they still weren't supposed to be the center of attention. But it felt reel, sweet, and organic. It didn't last long before the two returned to their seats.

"Not too bad," one smirked at the other. "I'm a good kisser."

"Yes I am," the other gave her hand a squeeze before catching a glimpse of violet out of the corner of her eye. Yelena had been the last toast of the evening, and guests were all being prompted to stand, mingle, and head to the dance floor — an opportunity which Kate Bishop was taking to approach the duo at their table.

Half out of fear, and half out of planned tactics, Yelena reached for the clone and pulled her into another, deeper, more passionate liplock. "Mmm," she moaned into the others lips.

Each closed their eyes and made the most of the moment, letting their lips part naturally and their tongues mingle in the space between them. It was a slow, patient, lingering kiss — and by the time the two finally parted and scanned the room, Kate Bishop was nowhere to be scene.

"That was something," Yel whispered through a smile. "But if that won't convince her that we're happy like this—"

"—Nothing will," the other finished the thought. "Come on, let's dance."

The rest of the night felt like a blur. The drinks flowed liberally, with Natasha and Wanda each — separately, and on multiple occasions, prompting the Yelenas into shots of tequila. Kate seemed to be out of their hair for now, so Yelena took the chance to just enjoy herself (herselves?) and have fun with the party. They drank, they danced, the flirted, they talked. It was amazing how much she had to say to herself of all people, despite the two sharing a brain and a lifetime of memories.

It didn't feel like a ruse anymore. It just felt good for them to relax and enjoy each other. But of course, the ruse wasn't to be abandoned, not fully. Not yet.

"Are you ready?" One finally whispered to the other as the evening was entering its final leg. She winked.

The other Yel nodded. "Eyes on Kate?" The two scanned the room and found her, drinking awkwardly next to her date. She was barely keeping it together. "Let's do this."

Hand in hand, the two Yelenas took a roundabout path to leave the dance-floor and exit the tent, making sure to pass safely within Kate's periphery. They had scouted out this location earlier in the day: it was a shadowy corner of the lawn behind the party, backed against a wall of ivy. Yelena pinned the double against the ivy and kissed her.

"This is going to be something else," she whispered passed the clone's lips. "Keep an eye out for Kate. Are you ready?"

"Yes," the other Yelena whispered back. "Are we both okay with this?"

They nodded, and smiled. One Yelena dropped to her knees. "I've sort of been looking forward to this..." she cooed, hiking up the bottom of the other's dress. She leaned in slowly to kiss the other woman's thighs, left to right, one after another. "Our skin is so soft, Yelena."

"I love hearing you say our name," the other giggled. "No sign of Kate, by the way. Not yet."

"Do you want me to slow down?"

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Good," Yelena whispered against the others thigh. She brought her hands up to the hem of her panties and started to pull them down. "This is so fucked up..." She almost laughed out the whisper of the words. "We look good down here, Yel," she cooed as the panties were dropped to her ankles. "And I know we've always wondered how we taste."

The movement started slow and cautious — not for a lack of enthusiasm or curiosity, but simply to let the moment be savored by both parties. Yelena (the one standing) gasped and brought a hand down to cup the blonde hair of her twin below her. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but in that moment, she was glad she hadn't fully lost her senses. "She's here. Kate's here," she whispered. Sure enough, the archer had taken the bait, approaching from the distance.

The other Yelena took it as a signal for the show to begin, and it better be convincing. She opened her mouth and traced her tongue up the slit of the clone's pussy, hearing the other woman gasp and muffle a scream — "Yelena!" — before continuing with more fervor. She brought two hands up to cup the other woman's bare ass, pulling her flesh closer against her lips.

"I'm such a cutie," she whispered against the other woman's folds, "And I know exactly what makes me tick." She dove in for one final flourish before the sensation overwhelmed the clone; Yelena could feel her shaking, climaxing through every inch of her body. She didn't stand immediately, opting instead to rest her forehead against the woman's thigh and give her a moment to catch her breath.

"She saw us, Yel," were the first words Yelena could muster between breaths. "Fucking perfect. She saw us. It couldn't have gone better."

The other Yelena stood slowly, smiling face to face with the other. "Really?"

The first nodded. "She'll come right back into our arms, I don't have a fragment of a doubt. Not after seeing us like that."

"Come on," the other offered a hand. "Looks like our work here is done."

Accommodations for wedding guests were scattered all around town in various hotels, but being a part of the bridal party, Yelena was staying just a short walk away from the reception. The two could hear the party winding down behind them as the DJ asked everyone to give a final cheers to the new brides. The Yelenas smiled and chatted about the ceremony as they made the short walk back to their hotel room. By all accounts, it really was a beautiful and perfect evening. They passed by a catering cart where one Yel snagged an unopened bottle of champaign. "To celebrate a successful scheme," she laughed.

The duo made it back to their small hotel room and shut the door behind them. "Do you have the time?"

The other checked her phone. 11:09PM. She and Wanda had run through the nuances of the magic down to the lat detail. The clone would last until midnight. "About 50 minutes," she replied, intuiting why the other Yelena had asked. She popped the bottle and took a swig. "To us."

The other smiled and reached for the bottle, following suit. "To us." It felt weird to say goodbye to herself, but after such a wonderful time — emotionally, physically, everything — Yelena was catching herself feeling like this scheme had impacted her more than she initially thought.

Yes, the two had put on a show for Kate, but there was something deeper here.

"You feel it too?" The other asked.

"What?"

"That there's something more between us than just acting like we're fake in love to get Kate back."

The other nodded. For 50 more minutes, it didn't make any sense to lie to herself. "So, what do we do now?"

Yelena smiled. "I still owe you one, don't I?" She took a coy step towards her clone. "You got me off in spectacular fashion, I'd like to return the favor."

Her double blushed. "Kate's not here. Nobody's watching. There's no reason to put on a show." She knew these were all half-truths. It was correct that there was no reason to act like the two were in love with each other, not anymore, but Yelena also knew that her clone felt it too. The spark between them.

"I know," she whispered before closing the distance between them for another kiss. "Let's make this time just for us."

[archivehub]

Title: Two Lines Summary: Connie sprints home in the rain, pharmaceutical bags in tow… Word Count: 443

My first Glow Week submission I'm posting before midnight lmao. I'm extremely proud of this short, so please give it a read!!! It also contains (gasp!) the first ever f-bombs in any of my stories! I used the prompt "Rain."

The short is also beneath the cut:

This couldn’t be happening.

This couldn’t be fucking happening.

Rain droplets pelted Connie’s face like a series of gunshots. Every single one of them stung just as much as the last, yet she simply couldn’t bring herself to care.

She sprinted against the biting wind, dragging along a couple of pharmaceutical bags filled to the brim with plastic devices. She had nearly drained her personal savings purchasing the gadgets, but that was a problem for a future Connie.

Of course Kansas had to receive its heaviest rain in decades on today of all possible days. The occurrence had brought a myriad of children out of their homes, all of whom crowded Lawrence’s thin sidewalks, giggling and hopping in puddles. All joy seemed to dissipate from their faces, however, as the woman whizzed by, beads of tears gushing down her cheeks.

A plethora of passersby attempted to stand in her path, interrogating whether or not she needed help; she simply shouldered past them.

Her apartment’s door nearly flew off its rusty hinges as she burst through it and scared her fiancé half to death. Of course, he immediately lobbed a slew of questions her way, though she completely disregarded them as she tossed aside her soaking clothes on her way to the bathroom.

---

Two lines.

Two damn lines again.

Over and over again, she checked. Cardboard packaging littered the tiled floor beneath her feet. With bated breath, she yanked the final device into view.

Two fucking lines.

She hurled the implement into the bathtub, where it took its place among a sea of other, completely identical gadgets. “Stupid piece of plastic,” she snarled, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She drew in a deep breath, smoothing out her hair, before then promptly vomiting her guts out into the nearby toilet.

Everything was a blur from there. All she remembered was thoroughly rinsing out her mouth, grabbing an armful of the discarded devices, booting open the bathroom door; and placing each gadget, one by one, onto the kitchen table to the absolute horrified bewilderment of her fiancé.

At a complete loss for words, Connie simply shoved one of the devices’ discarded boxes into Steven’s hands. She then observed as his mouth gradually fell agape in apprehension; his cheeks flushed a glowing pink. “So…?” she breathed. She could feel her heart beating, her chest rising and falling: nothing else existed in that moment but the two of them.

All the man could muster was a sheepish, “I-I swear, I didn’t even know I could …”

A chilling silence fell between the pair. Nothing could be heard but the pitter-pattering of the outside rain.

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Fuck-It-Friday

Thank for tagging, @anewkindofme! ❤

I'm now on Regressuary Day 11, so here's a snippet of that:

Owen smothered a yawn into his hand as he staggered into the kitchen in direction of his expresso maker. He slept in an hour longer than what he normally allowed himself to on his days off, but after a late night out with Judd and his poker buddies, Owen was feeling the aftereffects of minimal sleep and five glasses of whiskey.

"Oh the joys of getting older," he muttered to himself as he reached a hand up to message his achy temples.

After getting the expresso machine ready to roast, Owen turned to the cupboard that held mugs and glasses. He paused with his hand on the cabinet's handle, however, when something out of place on the counter next to him caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head to look, his brows shot up when he saw what it was.

A lime green sippy cup that looked like it had been used fairly recently.

Owen just stared at the cup in bewilderment, trying to force his un-caffeinated, still sleep hazy brain to piece together where or who it may have come from. He eventually reached out and picked it up to inspect it closer. Sure enough, after unscrewing the top, he could see leftover traces of Coca-Cola. TK's favorite soft drink...

"D-dad?"

Owen's head snapped up. TK stood at the threshold between the kitchen and living room, looking for all the world like he'd seen a ghost–pale, wide eyed, and trembling.

"TK, hey, what's–"

"I-I can explain! That's not what–I mean, I'm not–It... it's not...! I'm–"

Owen set the cup back down and hurried over to his son's side when the younger man's breathing began pick up speed at an alarming rate.

"Hey, hey, TK–it's okay, it's okay!" Owen cupped his face and tilted his head to meet his gaze. "I need you to take a deep breath for me. Okay, bud? Can you do that?"

TK gave a jerky nod, inhaling a short, shaky breath. It took a few attempts, but with Owen's guidance and reassuring words, TK was eventually able to draw in regular breaths again.

"Come on, come sit down." Owen helped TK over to one of the island stools.

Owen took a seat beside him, then asked, "So, you wanna tell me what's going on now?"

"I don't know how." TK's voice broke, tears immediately springing to his eyes. "Not without you thinking I'm a total freak, at least..."

"Hey." Owen's expression turned firm but not unkind. "There is nothing you could say that would ever make me think you're a freak. Absolutely nothing. You can always come to me and talk to me about anything."

TK still didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded at his father's words, nonetheless.

"Okay. Um... guess I'll just rip the bandaid off, then." TK paused for a moment, seeming to psych himself up before he went on. "Sometimes, when I'm really stressed out, I do this thing where I, uh... where I go into this childlike state of mind. I, um, like drinking from sippy cups and bottles, playing with toys, watching cartoons, all that kinda stuff. That–that's why I didn't have date night with Carlos last night. I just... I really needed some time on my own to unwind. Though, I guess I got a bit too deep in that headspace last night. I don't normally leave my little stuff lying around."

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @snarkythewoecrow and anyone who wants to join!

[etherrreal]

“would you be mine(craft)?” pt 2 coming out tonight 👀

with an equally as corny title because it came to me in a dream ✨ here’s a little sneak peek of the kenma x gn!reader date~ (you can read part 1 here!) -Luna

edit: “creep(er) into my heart” is now published!!

If you thought you felt out of place when you walked in, you’re definitely feeling it now. You scan the menu, trying not to look too stressed when you see the prices and can’t recognize or even read the foreign names of certain dishes, but from what you can read, nothing is sparking joy. You’re trying to get a read on Kenma, glancing up to see if he’s also having trouble picking something from the menu or if he’s confident about what to order, but his stoic face gives nothing away.

In an attempt to put out some feelers, you clear your throat before saying, “I’m not really sure what to pick. How about you? See anything you like?”

“I’m still looking, but nothing so far,” he responds, trailing off at the end as he watches a server bring some morsels of food plated on a bowl of rocks to the table next to you. It’s only then that can catch his eye and in them, you’re seeing the same feeling of bewilderment and unease from being in this setting. But it’s gone in a second, back to his normal flat expression.

But you definitely saw it, so now that you know the feeling’s mutual, you feel less bad about feeling it yourself. You let a few moments pass, with the menu held in front of your face, high enough that only your eyes peek out from over the top before you let out a suggestion.

“....You know we passed by a Domino’s on the way here, and now all I can think about are their wings.”

Kenma nearly slams the menu onto the table, eyes wide and ravenous for some food. “I want some of their cheesy bread so bad.”

“Wanna make a run for it?” You’re trying to be low- key when looking around for anyone that could be watching, gently setting the menu down and grabbing the collar of your coat, looking back to Kenma for confirmation. He’s already shoved one arm into the sleeve of his blazer and is scooting back his chair to stand, making sure to give you a nod so you know that it’s go time.

You’re not as graceful as Kenma is in your escape, nearly spilling someone’s drink while putting on your coat on the way out. You pick up your pace, ignoring Kenma’s glance and snickers. He reaches the door first, holding it open for you while you finally get your coat on. There’s a beat while you stand there before you both burst into giggles, nearly keeling over with laughter and tears in your eyes.

Finally, standing up straight after a few minutes, you gesture behind you. “Ready to go get a gourmet meal?” 

[nitewrighter]

Scoops! (Part 6)

Capping off the climax! After this is the epilogue! Honestly, I'm amazed at how fast this fic came together for me. It's made me a lot more confident with regards to writing for the DC universe in general.

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Read it on AO3 here!

----

Kryptonite was another thing slotted under ‘Things we don’t understand about Clark’s powers and alien physiology,’ and the one thing none of the three of them really wanted to talk about for obvious, traumatic reasons. Jimmy thought about it, Clark knew. He had once seen Jimmy slam his laptop shut on several web search tabs for radium, uranium, willemite, fluorite, ‘crystals that grow other crystals,’ ‘interdimensional crystals,’ ‘allergic reaction to rocks,’ and a whole host of other searches that yielded 6th grade geology, complex but ultimately unhelpful chemistry, or new age bunk. Clark did not know, for example, that the kryptonite rounds basically just imbued the League’s regular plasma plasma energy rounds with kryptonite radiation until Jalana said so. If he was willing to think about Kryptonite more, that would make sense—for all its destructive power, and its ability to apparently grow new crystals simply by its presence, the actual, physical, irradiated rock itself seemed to come in such tiny quantities, it would seem unlikely to practically serve as ammunition in any kind of weapon. Or maybe it had to come in tiny qualities because the growing crystal factor was too structurally dangerous to be spackling walls with it, and reducing the amount of the material used reduced that factor.

Clark’s own memories of carrying that crystal to the interior of that invading ship on Thanksgiving didn’t dwell on the nature of his obstacles—at the time, his brain was just a blur of fear for his parents, fear for Lois and Jimmy, horror at the ship buried beneath their cornfield living up to every one of his nightmares, and utter bewilderment at the hologram helping him (his father?). He hadn’t had the time to really observe the effects of the crystal around him. It was all ‘Flying, punching, blaze of green agony, Dad(!?), explosion, and then he more or less came to listening to Lois yell at her dad. Not exactly a massive well of information in that time.

There was a dark, morbid, and infinitely lonely corner of Clark’s soul that felt a strange relief when he first experienced the sensation of Kryptonite tearing through him. After years of wondering just how far his invulnerability went, here was at least one answer. It gave a shining, sharp quality to the pain and the all-consuming fear. I can die, it thought, with a weird spark of deliriously childish joy that both did and didn’t fully comprehend what was happening, Like a human. I can die, too. I’m mortal. I’m not that different from them.

Maybe it would have been a bigger relief if that first brush with the crystal wasn’t paired with all that imagery of evil alternate versions of himself inflicting massive destruction and suffering, but for all of Lois’s reassurance that those Supermen weren’t him, Clark understood why the League would package the two together. It was a warning and a weapon for every Lois initiated into the League: There is a monster, and here is how you kill it.

Is this killing? Is Amazo alive? Clark thought as he kept pushing Amazo down with ice breath as those blasts of green colored the air around them both. He tried to just focus on the outward blast of breath. If he could get enough distance before he breathed back in. He could avoid inhaling kryptonite particulates… probably? But no, that wasn’t how radiation worked, and at the back of his mind he knew that. Amazo, of course, was receiving the actual full force of the rounds, and Clark was filled with a queasy horror at the sight of the android’s all too human flailing, every impact contorting its body into a twisted recoil of pain. Clark had to force himself not to instinctively hang back as he saw the greenish tint that the ice crystals forming on Amazo were taking on. Amazo wasn’t moving anymore at this point, those orange eyes were staring out, blankly, and fading, fading—

Amazo suddenly hit the floor of the League headquarters and a massive cloud of glowing, freezing, green-tinted diamond dust burst off of the Android in a great sparkling puff at its impact.

Speed, thought Clark, flying upward, trying to stay ahead of the quickly encroaching ice cloud, Speed, faster, not fast enough. Have to—

But that great cloud puffed up around him, submerged him, and then that terrifying, despairing pain tore through him, inside and out. All at once he felt his flight slip away from him, and those strange, long seconds where upward momentum soon surrenders to gravity. He was dropping, back into that cloud, back into death. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Jimmy, you were right. I messed up, he thought as he felt his throat close up, Lois, I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m going to make it back. Lois, I love you—

But that last thought was enough to make his brain claw back to consciousness. He didn’t want to die—he really, really didn’t want to die. No—he couldn’t die here. How much of this was the memory of that first pain, of the despair he felt in the heart of that ship on Thanksgiving, and how much of it was the actual physical sensation of his body shutting down? The pain itself sent his body into so much of a panic mode that it took him a few seconds of falling to realize that this wasn’t as bad as his exposure to the crystal back on Thanksgiving. It was still bad, obviously. It was really bad. He could still feel the crystals growing in his body, but it was definitely slower than direct exposure to Kryptonite had been. He had made it through Thanksgiving—he could make it through this. Well, okay he definitely would have died without the mysterious Father(?) hologram, but dammit he was going to make it through this. He told Lois he was going to come back and she was stuck back in his world keeping an eye on the Spider Lady and oh god was she okay?

Clark wasn’t sure exactly how he managed to get those few dregs of coordination out of himself, but even if he couldn’t fly, he at least managed to muscle through the worst of the pain to slow and partially control his fall. His descent was dizzy, swaying, like a gnat on a hot day. He half-glided half fell to one of the wall walkways and collapsed in a rolling heap. His eyes were watering, and with his throat half-closed up, he was almost drowning in his own nauseous saliva. If super-hearing was picking up Jimmy’s cries of ‘Clark! Are you okay? C’mon, buddy, say something! Please!’ Clark’s brain wasn’t able to surface itself from the pain enough to comprehend it. Every cell in his body was screaming ‘Make it stop, get it away’ and the fire of his own neurons felt like it had been replaced by ribbons of needle-like shards of glass tearing up everything around them. He rose to his knees and elbows and dry-heaved, tears and saliva dripping from his face onto the floor, his own vision blurring with the pain so much he didn’t even register the droplets, or the green glow in the veins on the back of his hand. He wasn’t convulsing this time, and the sensation of those crystals tearing his body from within was significantly reduced, but he could only almost breathe, his chest heaving as his nails dug hard rivulets into the floor. Still a little bit of super-strength, and a dulled thrum of pain in his fingers that spoke to the ghost of invulnerability, but not enough air, not yet.

You’ve gotten some distance. You’ve gotten some distance, he tried to tell himself over the din of his whole body’s anguished cries of protest, It’s going to settle. It’s going to pass. It has to… please, please, it has to.

——

The main hall of the League headquarters was so cold, Jimmy could see his breath puffing out of him as he sprinted. His sneakers could barely keep a grip on the ice-dusted floor, he was all lean limbs desperately flailing forward and only barely keeping their balance.

“Hey, watch it!” hissed one Lois, her cat ears flattening as she stumbled out of his way.

No time to unpack that, thought Jimmy, still sprinting.

“Claaaark!?” Jimmy hollered, rushing past two Loises who were supporting a limping Lois out of the main hall. He heard dense, low, almost animalistic panting and the memory of Clark’s convulsions on Thanksgiving flinched to the center of his mind. He hated that he immediately  knew that sound was Clark. It was two floors above him. He had to find stairs, clamber over some wreckage on one flight, but then had to help another injured League of Lois member ease herself over the wreckage on the way down, climb up over that wreckage again, and race up three more flights before reaching the floor Clark was on. Clark’s hyperventilating had quieted at this point, and Jimmy really hoped that was, ‘this was reduced exposure and he’s getting better’ quieting and not ‘he’s now a crystal-covered corpse’ quieting.

He found Clark buckled over, his body crumpled and his cape pooled around him rendering him a shapeless red mass. The hyperventilating had apparently given way to long, dragged out, exhausted gasps.

“Clark!” Jimmy yelled, racing forward, and that red shape shifted slightly in response to his name, one hand still gripping his throat, eyes rheumy and skin slicked with sweat. Then Clark seemingly shrank in on himself again.

Jimmy slid to his knees in front of Clark and braced his hands on Clark’s shoulders.

“Clark—Clark, buddy, look at me,” said Jimmy, trying to push up Clark’s torso to get a better look at his face. Superman looked like death warmed over.

“Jimmy…?” his voice was a croak.

“It’s me. I couldn’t see anything on the feeds. I had to come find you,” said Jimmy.

“‘M’okay,” Clark mumbled woozily, one eye closed and the other heavy-lidded.

“You’re okay?” Said Jimmy.

“I’m okay,” Clark’s voice was thick as both eyes opened a bit more.

“You’re sure?” said Jimmy.

“Mm-hm,” Clark flopped his head in something approximating a nod.

“Then what the hell were you thinking?!” Jimmy shook his shoulders and Clark suppressed a gag. Jimmy caught himself, saying, “Sorry—sorry,” before suddenly hugging Clark tightly. Clark weakly brought one forearm up across Jimmy’s back to return the embrace.

“Didn’t… mean to scare you…” Clark grunted, his breath steadying.

Jimmy felt the heat of the beginning of a cry pushing at the back of his eyes, but he just squeezed his eyes shut and held Clark tighter.

“Kryptonite radiation doesn’t last very long when it’s cut off from its source,” a voice spoke up and Jimmy lifted his head slightly to see Lewis, looking sober, still holding his League sidearm.

Jimmy looked up at Lewis, then furrowed his brow and angled himself a bit more protectively between Lewis and Clark.

“It still absolutely could have killed him though,” said Lewis, “If the plan had gone wrong, if the Android had already adapted to his weaknesses… if he had gotten hit.”

Jimmy kept up his glare.

Lewis gave a frustrated little huff that was very signature of Lois. “What I’m saying is… I wasn’t sure if this wasn’t some kind of… convoluted, false flag, destructive plan between you and the android and the Spider Lady until I saw you put yourself at risk like that. So…” he glanced off, pinched his mouth for a few seconds, and tightened his jaw, “Thank you,” he said stiffly, “For the ice breath.”

“Mm-hm,” Clark had to put significant effort into lifting his arm enough to give a thumbs-up of acknowledgement. “Is… it gone?” he managed to say, his voice half-muffled into Jimmy’s jacket.

“We have a team taking a look,” said Lewis. His lips thinned before he added, “We’ll have to disassemble the whole thing. Figure out which parts came from which worlds. It could actually significantly help us track future emergences of—”

There was a scream and a shattering sound from down below and Clark’s head jerked up in a panic. It took Jimmy half a second to realize Clark’s super-hearing was picking up more than they could, but by then, Clark had suddenly seized a handful of Jimmy’s jacket from the back.

“Move!” The word was still a pained grunt from Clark, and Jimmy wasn’t sure how much of it was super-strength or just the sheer size difference between them, but Clark threw Jimmy away from himself. Jimmy bounced and slid across the walkway floor with a grunt, before stopping himself with his elbow just in time to see Amazo smash up through the walkway up in front of Clark. Lewis raised his sidearm and clearly hesitated, realizing his gun was still set to use kryptonite rounds and not wanting to use it with Clark in such close range. Amazo didn’t hesitate to give him a hard swat in the chest, sending Lewis flying back even further than Jimmy, his gun clattering uselessly next to him.

“No—!” Clark flailed a hand after Lewis as he bounced along the walkway on their opposite side, but Amazo suddenly seized him by the throat, yanked him up off his feet, and slammed him so hard against the wall a spiderweb of impact cracks bloomed behind him. The sound Clark made was a sad and crumpled “Ghnk!” And his eyelids fluttered open just in time to see the android drawing its free fist back.

Not like this— he squeezed his eyes shut, his arms slow and stupid and weak from the kryptonite as he scrambled to try and break the Android’s grip on him.

“Scoops, stop!” Jimmy’s voice rang out and Clark kept bracing for an impact which never came. The only thing Clark was stuck with was a flare of adrenaline crashing uselessly against a body on the verge of shutdown, but the punch that should have caved his skull in never came. Clark opened one eye and saw Amazo’s fist seemingly frozen less than an inch from his cheekbone. Jimmy, too, was frozen in place, his breath still puffing in the cold air around them.

You have to say ‘Scoops’ before issuing a command, Jimmy remembered, I programmed Scoops to respond to Lois or me.

Clark’s breath was still ragged, his feet still dangling off the ground. Amazo was looking at Jimmy.

“Scoops?” Jimmy said again.

Amazo tilted its head.

A few feet away from them, Lewis groaned on the ground.

“Primary User Jimmy,” Amazo said slowly, still gripping Clark’s neck. Both Jimmy and Clark startled some at the sound of android’s voice, which sounded like an overlapping mix between the generic automated AI voice Scoops would eventually have once its AI learned enough, the distortion of Ivo’s parasite suit, and Clark’s voice—fed through an AI and given that odd AI choppiness, but with an unmistakably Clark-ish pitch, “You called me that before.”

“Because… it was your name,” said Jimmy, taking a few cautious steps forward, “Are—are you still in there, buddy?”

“Lane, report! What’s going on!?” The Leader Lois’s voice sounded over Lewis’s gauntlet and Lewis just grunted in response, “Lane?!“

Amazo stared at Jimmy searchingly. “I do not know. The heart was made to observe, to help, and to learn. But this body..” Amazo looked at its non-choking-Clark-out hand, “This body was made to consume and dominate. And yet… their synthesis…” Amazo was frozen in place, before lifting its head slightly, “Who…am I?”

Oh my god, Clark thought deliriously, hands still weakly struggling at Amazo’s grip, Clark software. It duplicated my existential crisis.

“I don’t really know but—c-can you let him go?” said Jimmy, gesturing at Clark.

Amazo’s hand opened around Clark’s neck and Clark dropped to the ground like a pile of bricks with a pained grunt, and Jimmy winced, “Sorry—” he said very quietly to Clark, before looking up at Amazo.

“I do not know if I can call you my creator,” said Amazo, who was apparently also Scoops, “I have been… changed. That which was once known as Scoops cannot be removed from this body without destroying both.” The Android folded its hands over that point where the hole in the parasite suit once was. Amazo looked out at the heavily battered headquarters surrounding them, including the broken walkway that just dropped to the floor below only a few inches behind its feet. “Is this… my purpose?”

“No!” Jimmy blurted out, “Um, no. Uh… belay that previous order.” He looked at Clark. “Belay..?”

Clark shrugged helplessly.

“Cancel,” said Jimmy, “Cancel that order.”

“Then… what is my purpose?” asked Amazo.

“Lane, I need a report now, do we mobilize for combat?!” the Leader Lois was still talking over Lewis’s gauntlet as he finally hauled himself to an upright sitting position with a pained grunt.

“Just… wait—!” said Lewis, gritting his teeth and wincing to lift his gauntlet.

“You were made to save a universe,” Clark blurted out, and Amazo’s head turned to face him,

“There’s—there’s stuff in you from different worlds. So that you could save a world that has… a whole bunch of stuff pouring into it.”

“Yes…” Amazo mused, “I feel.. much of that intention in my hardware. But then—-why have I been told to destroy?”

“Because the person who gave you that order is… in a lot of pain,” said Clark, “They thought,” he gave a glance back to Lewis before turning to Amazo, “They believe this place is a threat to their universe, but it doesn’t have to be. Just like you don’t have to destroy it.”

Scoops looked at Clark blankly, then its head swung over to Jimmy.

“uhh… yeah. What he said,” said Jimmy.

“Lewis?!” it was Jalana’s voice cutting over Lewis’s gauntlet now. Lewis looked up and realized Clark, Amazo, and Jimmy were all staring at him.

“…Tell all units stand by,” Lewis grunted into his gauntlet, “The… the android is… not currently attacking.”

“What do you mean ‘not currently attacking!?’” demanded the Leader Lois.

“I think I broke my sternum,” Lewis wheezed, “Look just—wait, they’re talking. If we start shooting again, I think that’ll just piss it off.”

Thank you, Jimmy mouthed.

“We’re moving in to confirm your report,” said the Leader Lois, before her voice clicked off on the gauntlet.

“Your sternum is broken,” said Amazo, as if this was helpful, “But according to my Kryptonian X-ray vision, it is not currently impacting your organs.”

You mean my Kryptonian X-ray vision, thought Clark, with the kind of sourness that only comes with having the everloving shit beaten out of you.

“Um…” Lewis’s brow crinkled.

“I did not want you to shoot me again,” said Amazo,  explaining, before turning to Clark, “And you, Kryptonian, you have no concept of the actual limits of your powers and you have an extremely strong aversion to using your powers lethally. It made it very difficult to access them fully to execute my command.”

“So I guess calling you ‘Scoops’ must have caused some kind of system reset?” Jimmy scratched the back of his head, “Or maybe it was like opening the shell and entering system commands…”

It was at that point that a blue portal opened behind Lewis and both Jalana and the Leader Lois stepped out. The Leader Lois’s hand went to her sidearm immediately at the sight of both Clark and Amazo, but she hesitated as well, with both the Kryptonian and the Android looking at her with a steady blankness.

“Oh my god, Lewis—!” said Jalana, rushing to his side.

“Careful, careful!” Lewis winced and swayed with pain a little as she helped him to his feet.

“His sternum is broken,” Amazo said again.

“It talks!?” Jalana nearly dropped Lewis.

“Careful!” Lewis said again before Jalana quickly readjusted her grip and support on him.

“How… is this possible?” said the Leader Lois.

“It… responded to ‘Scoops,’” said Jimmy, “That was in its original programming. That either me, or a Lois, could command it.”

“Wait, why couldn’t I command it?” asked Clark, a little emotionally hurt, but mostly very, very physically hurt.

“I thought we’d need to figure out how to make it accommodate the whole secret identity thing together before I programmed it in,” said Jimmy.

“Oh, that’s thoughtful,” said Clark.

“Olsen,” Lewis pressed his fingertips to his forehead, “Are you saying you could have told it to stop at any time?”

“I didn’t know I could have told him to stop!” said Jimmy, “Look at him! He’s like… 80% parasite!”

“Maybe any of you could have told it to stop,” said Clark vacantly, slumping some of his weight on a wall, “I mean, if it was programmed to respond to a Jimmy or a Lois.”

“Ah-ha!” Said Jimmy, “Thank you, Clark. Excellent point. Except it would seem to be League policy to just shoot things on reflex!”

“You could not have stopped me,” said Amazo.

“Come again?” Said Jimmy.

“You could not have stopped me. I was set to see my objective to its completion, and my programming was functioning primarily on the abilities of the Kryptonian. My learning programming for sentience would not have fully activated had I not been forced to adapt beyond the Kryptonian’s abilities—this was catalyzed by the kryptonite exposure. I did not question my own being until I was faced with oblivion. This concept of self, the awareness of self, the decision to live, was born in ice and agony.” Amazo looked at Clark. “I do not believe I would have been able to achieve true free will and question my previous orders had I not become superior to you in every way. Thank you.”

“You’re… welcome?” Clark’s brow crinkled.

“Are you saying that you no longer intend to destroy the League of Lois Lanes?” the Leader Lois asked Amazo pointedly.

“I am still deciding,” said Amazo, looking at the heavily damaged walls and walkways surrounding them.

All the League members in the space instinctively shrank back and tensed up, hands going to their weapons with an obvious hesitation of, ‘This didn’t stop him before, how the hell is it going to stop him now?’

Amazo’s head shifted its angle. “Kryptonian super-hearing indicates the League of Lois Lanes has numerous highly powerful multidimensional entities in its custody—Destroying the League does not automatically ensure their destruction, and should they escape in the fallout, they may pose a risk to the universe I have been made to protect. As such, their continued containment is optimal. I will not destroy the League.”

Lewis had visibly broken a sweat next to the Leader Lois. “Th-that’s it?” he said before wincing and sinking against Jalana in pain.

Amazo fixed that orange gaze on him. “Do you wish to engage in further combat?”

The Leader Lois’s mouth opened but her jaw remained visibly tensed.

“Nope!” said Jalana very quickly, “No, we do not.”

The Leader Lois gave Jalana a hard side-eye, but then her gaze flicked to Clark. He was still slumped against the wall, and he met her eyes with a countenance that was still clammy with the memory of pain. The scrutiny in the Leader Lois’s eyes, and the sinking realization that she was weighing if Clark could go another round with the Android made Clark suddenly feel very small, and very tired. He couldn’t help remembering seeing that same visible calculation in the Spider Lady’s face.

Don’t worry, I’m not hitting you with anything you can’t take.

Except the Leader Lois cared even less if Clark lived or died, or likely even saw his death as the avoidance of all sorts of future potential tragedy. But then her eyes scanned across the other League members, noting their exhaustion, their obvious skepticism towards any effectiveness of their weapons, or even some of them helping injured League members out of the hall or helping each other clamber over rubble and move away from less stable areas of the headquarters. She shut her eyes again; that exhausted, brow-furrowed, eyes-squeezed-shut, long-inhale-through-the-nostrils expression that Clark had seen on the Spider Lady, that he had seen on his own Lois.

Lois Lane had kicked plenty of figurative hornets’ nests in her life, but there was only so much she was willing to put other people at risk.

And the Leader Lois had seen too many Lois Lanes die in her lifetime.

“If you mean us no further harm, I would simply ask that you leave us alone,” said the Leader Lois, looking at Amazo.

“I would ask the same,” said Amazo, “For myself and the universe I was made to protect.”

“We can do that within reason,” said the Leader Lois, “However, the Spider Lady is still at large.”

“Oh!” Jimmy piped up, slumping Clark’s arm across his shoulders to support him, “Sssooo…about that…”

Lewis’s eye involuntarily twitched.

——

“So your plan is… sitting on me,” said the Spider Lady flatly. Lois was, indeed, sitting cross-legged on the Spider Lady’s back, arms folded, right on that roof where Clark and Jimmy had left them.

“Yup,” said Lois.

“I outmaneuvered Bruno Manheim and Carmine Falcone in my world, but sure, I’m going to lose to the Lois whose plan is sitting on me.”

“With the contingency plan of elbow-dropping you if you get out from under me,” said Lois, lifting her chin, “Plus, the Falcone in my world got taken down by Vicki Vale, so maybe those credentials aren’t that impressive.”

“Vicki Vale?” the Spider Lady repeated, “Really?”

“Actually,” Lois huffed, “Yeah, it’s so cool. It kind of sucks that she’s a jerk but it was amazing,”

“I’ll bet,” the Spider Lady said distantly, “She’s a jerk?”

“I mean, kind of. I used to think she was the kind of journalist I wanted to be, but I guess.. by the time I met her, I changed.”

“The Vicki Vale in my universe died before I ever got to meet her,” the Spider Lady said, that exhaustion leeching back into her voice. She was quiet for a few seconds. “I really need more girl friends,” she said, mostly to herself.

“I’ve been telling myself that for years and I don’t know if it’s like, an internalized misogyny thing or an ADHD thing or a bi thing or an army brat thing but ever since I stopped living with Lucy, I get so self-conscious when I’m surrounded by women,” said Lois, “Like women I should relax and be social with. I always feel like I’m missing 30% of the conversation because I’m missing the secret girl language.”

“And I can’t do bathroom girl talk,” said the Spider Lady, a bit sullenly.

“Seriously! Why go to the bathroom in packs!? It’s weird!” Lois exclaimed, “Like—”

“Just let me pee!” They both said at the same time and Lois caught herself.

“…you’re really me from another universe, huh?” Lois said quietly.

“It’s honestly terrifying how willing you are to beat the shit out of yourself with zero hesitation,” said the Spider Lady.

“Well, you made that kind of easy, with the whole… kidnapping and torture thing,” said Lois.

“Fair,” said the Spider Lady.

A long silence passed. Lois pulled her coat a little tighter around herself. What was she going to do if Clark and Jimmy didn’t come back? No, they would come back. They had to. Except it was the League where she got that awful rock that nearly killed Clark—if they considered Superman in general to be that big of a threat, it was likely they had more. But if Clark and Jimmy didn’t come back, then she was stuck with a woman who was dangerous, unpredictable, and had her face. Why had she told Clark to go save the League? They sucked and they all thought they were so great because they had stupid Pulitzers—and with that rock, they could be one of the most dangerous places she could send Clark into. And Jimmy—what if he ended up in one of those interdimensional jail cells he kept warning her about earlier? And Lois was stuck uselessly back here, with no portals whatsoever to help them, and no way to know if anything or everything had gone horribly wrong. Her mouth pulled into a tight frown. They shouldn’t have to be there.

“If you made him to save your universe, why not just leave with Amazo?” Lois asked after a while, “Why destroy the League?”

“It’s not in their interest for my universe to improve its circumstances. And sooner or later, they’d see Amazo as a threat,” said the Spider Lady, “So I’m not making it a threat. I’m making it a promise. And I promise that they are going to know the chaos, and panic, and pain, and despair that my world knows every day.”

Lois was looking down at her, almost blankly.

“Nothing to say?” said the Spider Lady.

“…not really. It’s just… freaky, knowing I can get that angry,” said Lois. For a few seconds, Lois wished this version of herself was more alien, more horribly unrecognizable than she actually was. She wished the prospect of becoming like this woman was unimaginable, but it wasn’t. For a moment, Lois felt it: that kernel of rage inside herself, that sharp little fire that blazed against the injustice of the world, it was one of the reasons why she became a journalist, but it wasn’t the only one. For all the loneliness and powerlessness and frustration she had known, that resentful childhood in her father’s shadow, never able to really put down roots, she had at least been able to see brief glimpses of a world worth fighting for, and people worth protecting, even if she never seemed able to hold onto them for long. And here, and now, she had the Planet, and Jimmy, and Clark—a purpose and people who let her grow herself around that old sharp fire, like an irritating grain of sand, not quite a pearl yet, but getting closer, every day. How much of that had burned away for the Spider Lady, she wondered? Until all she had left was the rage and the sharpness? Lois folded her arms, “But also, we’re not going to let that happen.”

“Why save the League?” the Spider Lady returned, “You’re not a member, and you’re clearly very close with your Clark, which probably puts you at odds with a lot of their policies.”

“Because even if they’re jerks, that doesn’t mean they should get murdered by a robot?” said Lois. And maybe Clark has something to prove… she thought to herself.

“God, you and that Clark are so righteous, here. I don’t know how you can stand it,” muttered the Spider Lady. She was quiet for a few minutes longer. “…is your Jimmy happy here?” she asked at last.

“He’s had pretty much all of his crazy conspiracy theories vindicated by Clark and Cadmus and he’s a multi-millionaire… so I think he’s doing okay,” said Lois. “Aside from a little incident with his drone.”

“Good,” the Spider Lady said softly, “That’s… good. And you’re still friends?”

“Of course we’re still friends,” said Lois. She pulled her coat a little tighter around herself as a winter wind blew through. “…aren’t you cold in that dress?”

“It’s fine. I think it’s keeping the swelling down—” the Spider Lady started but cut herself off as as a blue portal appeared in front of her and the Leader Lois stepped out, accompanied by Lewis, Jalana, and at least a half dozen other Loises, circling both Lois and the Spider Lady, and holding their guns at the ready.

“Hey, woah!” Lois put her arms up, angrily. The Leader Lois stood in front of her, examining both her and the Spider Lady, but Lois tried to get a better look at the portal, only to shrink where she was as she saw Amazo step out. Dread dropped like a rock into her stomach

If the Android’s here, what happened to—

Her breath caught in her throat, then left her in a sigh of relief to see Jimmy and Clark stepping through the pale blue portal. There was an instant, flinching reflex in her brain to spring to her feet and sprint over and throw her arms around them both, but between the League and their sidearms, the Spider Lady beneath her, and now the Android lumbering toward her, that was balanced out by a ‘no sudden moves’ survival instinct.

Relief washed over Clark as they stepped out of the portal, away from the League, away from whatever residual Kryptonite particulates and radiation were still hanging in that universe’s air. He drew in a long breath of cold, winter rooftop air and then made eye contact with Lois. He saw her eyes light up with recognition, and then he saw her expression shift as she took in them both, and particularly how Clark looked like he had gotten the stuffing kicked out of him and only partially, hastily jammed back in. Joyful relief was quickly saturated with ‘What the hell happened to you,’ before Lois was obscured completely by the hulking frame of the Android.

“Could you move, please?” Amazo loomed over Lois and the Spider Lady. Lois leaned around Amazo’s legs to see Clark and Jimmy both giving her silent, nervous, nods and ‘scoot over’ gestures. Lois slowly got up from the Spider Lady and stepped to the side. The Spider Lady coughed and grunted as her breathing was less restricted, and she pushed herself up to a buckled over kneeling position.

“What—?” The Spider Lady craned her neck up and squinted at Amazo, “What happened to you?”

“I have evolved past my original parameters and have elected not to perform the task you set out for me,” said Amazo.

This was the moment when it seemed like true and genuine horror washed over the Spider Lady’s features as she pushed herself up to a kneeling position.

“I found that the destruction of the League of Lois Lanes is not requisite, and in fact possibly detrimental to the stabilization of your universe. And I was made to save your universe,” Amazo said, as if to clarify.

The Spider Lady’s face dropped from horror to ‘are you fucking kidding me.’

“This Lois belongs to Earth 19-Y,” said Amazo, addressing the League as it picked up the Spider Lady by the back of her jacket. The Spider Lady hung from Amazo’s grip with the kind of rage-turned-to-blankness you would see in a feral kitten being held by the scruff of its neck, “I have been created with the purpose of saving that universe, so she is my responsibility.”

“She needs to be taken into League custody,” the Leader Lois said sternly.

Amazo just looked over at her. For all the animalistic fierceness Ivo had carved into the face of the original parasite suit, since it had taken on some aspects of Clark’s appearance, that red-orange glow of its eyes now seemingly had that cool and measured neutrality Superman sometimes took on when he would take a gun from a criminal’s hand, crumple it like some particularly sturdy construction paper and say, ‘Okay, we’re not doing that.’

“I was made to save her universe. You are welcome to attempt to stop me,” Amazo said calmly.

There was a long, tense moment. The Lois with the robot arm stepped forward with her rifle at the ready, but the Leader Lois held up a hand as a signal for her to stop.

“…you can stabilize your universe as you see fit, Android,” said the Leader Lois, “So long as it, and she,” she gestured to the Spider Lady, “Remain contained within its respective confines.”

With that, she hit a button on her gauntlet, opening a blue portal. “This will take you to Earth 19-Y.”

“Thank you,” said Amazo, holding up the Spider Lady demonstratively, “I will take it upon myself to prevent her from escaping our universe and causing further harm, as a part of our universe’s stabilization.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” the Spider Lady’s voice was dripping with venom.

“Primary User Jimmy,” said Amazo, looking at Jimmy, “You show recognition and acceptance of me, both as your creation, and for what I have become. For that, I am grateful.”

“I always knew you were going to be amazing, Scoops,” said Jimmy, while also thinking, Not necessarily in the ‘is also terrifying’ factor but whatever. Jimmy caught himself, “Wait—or do you prefer Amazo, now?”

“Either is fine. I simply hope I can show the same wisdom as a creator that you have, someday,” said Amazo, placing one foot into the portal, “Farewell.” With that, Scoops, carrying the Spider Lady, slipped into the spiral of bluish light.

“Bye…” Jimmy felt a bittersweetness building in his throat as the android that was once his beloved drone became merely a silhouette and then faded to nothingness.

“Jimmy, did Scoops just say it was going to create life?” asked Clark as the portal closed behind them.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy.” Jimmy patted Clark’s back.

“I’m going to worry about it.”

“So… you were keeping the Spider Lady the entire time your friends were confronting the Android with us?” the Leader Lois stepped over to Lois, who was dusting herself off.

“Lois walloped her!” Jimmy exclaimed, “It was like a UFC fight!”

“Jimmy—!” Lois was blushing before quickly adding, “Look, it wasn’t a big deal. My Clark—I mean, Clark had already disarmed her. I just… felt I had to act before she pulled any more surprises on us.” Lois felt herself cringing at the last sentence. She really didn’t like putting herself closer to that League ‘Shoot first, ask questions later’ attitude. And the Leader Lois’s response only raised her discomfort.

“You’re honestly proving yourself to be a great Lois,” said Leader Lois.

“I don’t need your approval!” Lois snapped before catching herself, “Woah, wow, sorry, I was just… bracing myself for more criticism there.”

“That’s fair,” said the Leader Lois.

“But also—I don’t,” Lois said haltingly, “I don’t need your approval. I’m—I’m my own person, and this is my own reality, and I’m sorry things with Clark ended so terribly in all those other worlds, but I’m going to make my own judgment.”

“…You know, I can appreciate that,” said the Leader Lois. She looked out over at Metropolis and gave out a short, amused huff. “And… by the looks of it, as far as universes go, you could do a lot worse.”

“League or not, we run a tight ship here,” said Jimmy, playfully elbowing Clark, which just made him attempt to cover up a pained wince with a smile.

“I’m sure,” said the Leader Lois, that skepticism returning to her voice, “And… I’m willing to admit, without your efforts, there might not be a League standing. We are still looking into the Mxyzptlk incident, but for now… it’s enough just to make it through the day.” She gave a scrutinizing look to Superman. “..Kryptonian,” she said flatly, extending a hand.

“Ms. Lane,” said Clark, shaking her hand.

“Technically, it’s Mrs. Henshaw,” said the Leader Lois, with a bit of resignation. She wasn’t really sure why she said that. Maybe it was a bit of pity towards the Kryptonian, a willingness to show some vulnerability after the beating he had taken at their headquarters. Or maybe it was just that tiring being ‘Lois Lane’ all the time.

“Oh—um, congratulations,” Clark said on reflex.

“Come on, big guy,” said Lois, taking his arm to pull him out of the handshake.

“…so it’s still called the League of Lois Lanes even if you all don’t have the last name, ‘Lane?’” Jimmy leaned over to Lewis.

“Well, yeah, we still have our own lives in our own universes. It’s just more impactful if we all introduce ourselves as ‘Lane,’” said Lewis, “It doesn’t really hit the same if we go, “I’m Lois Henshaw, that’s Lois Lane, and that’s Lewis Kalmaku-Lane.”

“Huh,” said Jimmy.

“We need to be getting back to headquarters,” said the Leader Lois, as the ring of other Loises dispersed to more informal positions, “There are… a lot of repairs to be done.”

“Sorry,” said Clark, embarrassed, “Do you need help with…?” He trailed off.

“I think you should worry about your own world for now,” said the Leader Lois, before turning to Jalana, “Olsen, I need you on cleanup here. Make sure Spider Lady didn’t leave any interdimensional contraband behind”

“Yes, Leader Lois,” said Jalana, saluting before heading off into her own portal.

The Leader Lois opened up her own portal and the remainder of League strike team disappeared into it. Lewis exclaimed, “Finally!” as he stepped through. The Leader Lois looked back at Clark, Lois and Jimmy, before a soft, amused huff escaped her.

“I realize I’m asking the impossible, but try and stay out of trouble, 12-M,” she said, before stepping through the portal, “We’ll be in touch.”

Clark awkwardly waved after her as she disappeared.

“…what do you think the ‘M’ stands for?” said Jimmy, before going “Oof!” As Lois flung her arms around both him and Clark.

“What happened in there!?” She said, her voice muffled against both of them.

“A lot,” said Jimmy.

“Jimmy saved the day,” said Clark, easily.

“Smallville, you don’t get to just say, ‘Jimmy saved the day’ when you look like this,” said Lois, gesturing at him.

“I know, it’s just…” Clark hesitated.

“We’ll tell you the whole story as soon as we can,” said Jimmy, “I think we both need some time. For now, we’re just really glad to be back home with you,”

“I’m holding you both to that,” said Lois, with a sternness that almost rivaled the Leader Lois, before it quickly melted away and she hugged them both again. “I’m just… so glad you made it back.

Clark’s cheek smushed against the top of her head as he returned the embrace. But then, hesitantly, but reflexively, his arms loosened around her and Jimmy. He lifted his head, tilting it and squinting slightly, before his eyes widened. “Lois—” he looked at her with some alarm.

“…Metropolis hasn’t had Superman all day,” said Lois, following his line of sight over the city.

“It won’t be long, just—there’s someone stuck in the trunk of a car in Bakerline, and there’s a group of people dumping some hazardous chemicals in the river over in the industrial district, and there’s a lost dog down in—”

“We know, buddy,” said Jimmy.

“Clark,” Lois set her hands on his shoulders, “It’s okay. You can go. Just… be safe, all right?” And then she squeezed her eyes closed with exhaustion and added, “And please don’t get kidnapped again.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he kissed her hairline and took off so fast her jacket whipped around in his wake. Both Lois and Jimmy were left alone on that rooftop, the air around them feeling surreally empty.

“…you okay?” Jimmy asked after a long silence.

“Yeah, you?”

“I kind of built a god? Sort of? I’m trying to parse that,” said Jimmy, “I’ll be okay. Probably.”

“Great. That’s great,” Lois glanced at her bruised knuckles before huffing out a breath and swinging her arms back in forth for a few seconds, “I’m, uh… I’m gonna go home and pass out.”

“Good call,” said Jimmy.

[ninhaoma-ya]

24 days of Christmas: Knut’s day

allthingsfinnish.tumlbr.com

"You really need to do something about your tree."

"But it's still Christmas!"

Law was not impressed by the navigator's insistence. They had started the… discussion a week ago, when she blankly refused to take down the Christmas tree and decorations. Each day had divested the tree of some of its pines and brought another coating of dust to rest gently on the decorations still hanging around.

Not that he demanded the same level of cleanliness on ships he visited as those he upheld on his own, but there was a line.

”We discussed this a week ago. Christmas ended with the twelve days of Christmas.”

Nami folded her arms, looking Law defiantly in the eye. “Where I come from, Christmas doesn’t end until Saint Knut’s Day and Knut’s Party. Twenty days after Christmas.”

“It’s a week more of Christmas,” Usopp and Chopper sang, spinning around each other with linked arms. “It’s a week more of joy! It’s a week more of Christmas–“

Law sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What does this… Knut’s party entail?”

“Fufufu,” Robin laughed from her deck chair, finger marking her place in her latest book. “It’s just a way of ending the season. Franky usually does some fireworks and we take down the Christmas decorations. And have a party, of course. It’s quite lovely.”

“Except the time Zoro dressed up as Krampus.”

“Sorry,” Nami grimaced. “I didn’t know Chopper would be that upset.”

“Zoro-ya did what?” Law’s confusion was deepening with each sentence. He knew Krampus as something that turned up at the beginning of the season, not the end. “I hope he didn’t spank anyone.”

“He wasn’t Krampus as such. It's a related spirit. But no-one can pronounce the real name and ‘Krampus’ is as close as we get.” Robin shrugged at Law’s puzzled face. “I am good at languages, but this was beyond my skills.”

“It’s a tradition from one of the islands close to Cocoyashi,” Usopp explained. “According to legend, he comes on Knut’s day and demands food in general and alcohol in particular. And unless he receives something from the host, he commits evil deeds. Perfect for Zoro.”

“Oi!” The swordsman was apparently not as asleep as he looked, lounging against the mast with his hands folded behind his head and swords laying beside him.

Law’s bewilderment must have been evident from the way Usopp sighed and shook his head.

“Zoro was wearing quite a scary birch bark mask, made to look like some kind of forest spirit.” He paused, leaning closer towards Law. “And reindeer skins."

"I'm sorry," said Nami.

“As you should.” Usopp narrowed his eyes at her. “You should have seen Chopper," he said, turning to Law. "He was… distraught."

“I still feel bad for it!” Nami’s lower lip was wobbling and tears were gathering in her eyes. Law felt a stab of sympathy for the woman, although it warred with a greater wave for the miniature reindeer he had grown to respect.

"Just because reindeer skins is the traditional garb doesn’t mean we have to do it exactly that way here. And no-one believes your pity party, so stop with the theatrics.”

“Spoilsport.” Magically, the woman’s face was back to normal, no sign of distress evident.

Law grasped at something to get him back on track and understand what was happening. Luffy and Chopper were now circling the Christmas tree, a hungry look in their eyes.

“But what’s this Knut’s party then, if not Krampus coming to town?”

“The Christmas tree needs to be taken down. And the candy decorations eaten up,” Robin said with a light smile. “It starts when the sun goes down.”

Law looked at the sadly drooping branches of the previously splendid fir, tinsel hanging like limp noodles from bare branches and baubles no longer sparkling and jolly. Here and there, a candy cane hang like wilted flowers and the gingerbread decorations were starting to look a bit dodgy. He nodded gravely. “Yes, I can see the need.”

Chopper and Luffy were vibrating with excitement now. Usopp and Nami stood a bit back, although Law still saw a certain tension in the navigator’s shoulders. So she wasn’t as unaffected as she’d like people to think…

When the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon, a mighty thunderclap cut through the sky and a small cascade of fireworks exploded above.

“Let the Christmas tree plundering commence!”

And chaos descended.

~

AO3

ff.net

~

And the last bonus chapter! I hope you enjoyed these snippets of holiday cheer and the musings of when the season really ends :)

[renon4224]

WIP 42: My Queen

Chapter One

As Lilith's vision faded, a blurry image of her mother's face came into view, grief and despair written plainly on her features. Lilith was startled to see tears streaming down her mother's cheeks and could hear her sobbing, muttering something incomprehensible to herself. She felt overwhelmed and helpless as she drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to process what was happening around her. When the darkness finally overtook her, she closed her eyes, hoping that when she awoke, everything would be back to the way it used to be.

Lilith awoke to the sound of her mother’s soothing voice, calling her name. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw her mother kneeling beside her, crying and cradling her in her arms. Lilith looked around, confused, wondering where she was and how she had gotten here. Her mother hugged her tightly and looked down at her with tears in her eyes. Lilith could tell that something was wrong, but didn't fully understand what had happened. She was still trying to make sense of everything when her mother told her the news - her father had passed away in the car crash.

As Lilith's vision cleared, she could make out her own reflection in the mirror, looking back at her with large, bright green eyes and a shock of blonde hair framing her face. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her beating heart, and reached out to touch her reflection in the glass. As she pressed her fingertips against the surface, she let out a horrified shout of surprise, only to discover that it was merely her own reflection staring back at her. Her head spinning and her heart pounding, Lilith turned from the mirror and fled from the bathroom, her thoughts churning with confusion and fear.

As Lilith approached her mother, the older woman's face contorted into an expression of stunned surprise. She quickly rose from her rocking chair and rushed across the room, embracing her daughter tightly and stroking her long blonde hair as she began to weep. Seeing her mother sobbing and clinging to her filled Lilith with a mixture of joy and concern. She rested her head against her mother's shoulder as tears welled up in her eyes, unable to process the rush of emotions that she was experiencing. As she was slowly wrapped in her mother's comforting embrace, Lilith knew that everything would be okay.

Lilith had been deeply shaken by the sudden loss of her father, but she quickly found solace in the comforting embrace of her mother. With her mother's loving care and support, Lilith slowly began to heal from the pain of losing her father. She slowly gained the strength to face the world again, knowing that her mother would be there to support her. As Lilith's healing continued, her mother helped her to refocus on the joys of life and to take each day as it came. With her mother's guidance, Lilith gradually came to a place of acceptance and peace.

As Lilith processed her mother's response, a flood of emotions rushed through her. She was overwhelmed with grief at the revelation that her father had passed away, but also stunned and confused to learn that she had been in a coma for a decade. The news that she was now 17 years old was another unexpected surprise, and it felt strange to suddenly be so much older than the young girl she remembered being. It was all a lot to process, and Lilith was still attempting to wrap her head around it all when her mother's soft voice broke her out of her reverie. Lilith took in her mother's words quietly, absorbing the fact that she had been in a coma for a decade. It was an overwhelming thought, and she was filled with a sense of bewilderment and confusion. What had happened to make her fall into such a long, unconscious state? And how had she managed to survive for so long without her body atrophying or succumbing to disease? These were all questions that had no immediate answers, and Lilith struggled to comprehend her situation. She was aware that she had much to catch up on, but for now she was just relieved to be awake and in her mother's arms.

A New Beginning

She mourned the loss of her father and struggled to make sense of her time in a coma. Lilith's mother provided a source of comfort and strength during this difficult time, helping her daughter to deal with her grief and find ways to move forward. She slowly began to rebuild her life, as Lilith stretched her arms and legs and sighed as she felt her muscles starting to ache from inactivity. She knew that it would take some time for her body to fully regain its strength, but she was determined to get back to full health and return to her normal routine. After all, she had spent a decade asleep, and now she was eager to live her life to the fullest and make up for lost time. As she got up and began to stretch her sore limbs, Lilith felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for the journey that lay ahead of her.

She mourned the loss of her father and struggled to make sense of her time in a coma. Lilith's mother provided a source of comfort and strength during this difficult time, helping her daughter to deal with her grief and find ways to move forward. She slowly began to rebuild her life, as Lilith stretched her arms and legs and sighed as she felt her muscles starting to ache from inactivity. She knew that it would take some time for her body to fully regain its strength, but she was determined to get back to full health and return to her normal routine. After all, she had spent a decade asleep, and now she was eager to live her life to the fullest and make up for lost time. As she got up and began to stretch her sore limbs, Lilith felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for the journey that lay ahead of her.

Lilith worked hard throughout the summer months, slowly regaining strength and stamina as she exercised her atrophied muscles. As she progressed, her exercises became more difficult and her sweat dripping down from the exertion, but she felt a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment as she could feel her body growing stronger and more capable with each passing day. Her studies with her mother also progressed well, and she was slowly starting to catch up with her peers academically. Lilith was determined to succeed and make a good impression in school upon her return, and she hoped that her efforts would pay off.

Lilith's hard work paid off as she regained her strength and stamina. She felt pride and satisfaction as she continued to challenge herself and push herself to be her best. Her studies with her mother progressed well, and she was starting to feel more confident about her academic abilities. Even after a decade of being asleep, Lilith was determined to succeed and make a good impression upon her return to school. Her dedication and hard work were sure to earn her the respect and admiration of fellow students and teachers alike.

Lilith was determined to find out the truth about her mother's frequent absences, but she knew that directly asking the question wasn't getting her anywhere. So she started to brainstorm and considered different strategies she could employ to uncover her mother's secrets. After some consideration, she came up with an idea, and her face lit up with excitement as she realized that this plan could work. She just had to put it into action, and she quickly went to work preparing everything she would need to carry out her plan.

Lilith was determined to get to the bottom of her mother's mysterious comings and goings. She was certain there was more to the story than her mother let on, and she was determined to uncover the truth. After considering her options, Lilith came up with a plan to figure out her mother's secrets. She put her plan into action, carefully and methodically preparing everything she would need. The stage was set, and Lilith was ready to see her plan through. Her determination and drive were unstoppable, and she knew that she would get to the bottom of this mystery no matter what.

Lilith lay in silent anticipation as she hid inside her mother's large travel bag, waiting for the car to start moving so she could begin her secretive investigation. She felt a flicker of fear as the thought crossed her mind that this plan could backfire and leave her stranded somewhere dangerous or unknown, but she pushed those worries aside and remained focused on her goal. She couldn't help but feel an almost dizzying rush of excitement as she realized that the car was finally moving, and she was now on a quest to uncover the mystery surrounding her mother's monthly disappearances.  Lilith crouched in her hiding place inside the travel bag, feeling her heart race in anticipation as the car finally started moving. She tried to maintain her composure, but the excitement of going on the adventure of her life was just too much to contain. She couldn't help but feel a dizzying rush of excitement and anticipation, and she was ready to tackle the mystery of her mother's strange absences. Little did she know what she would find, or the trouble she would get herself into. As the car began to move, so too did Lilith's quest to uncover the truth.

The Snow Castle

Lilith’s sense of excitement turned to fear and panic as she realized the mistake she had made. Her mission to uncover her mother’s secrets had taken an unexpected turn. She didn’t seem to have considered the ramifications of her actions, and now she found herself in a foreign place, surrounded by strangers, and completely exposed. The shock and fear shook her nerves to the core, and she began to panic and scramble to find a way out of her situation. As she searched frantically for an escape from what she had gotten herself into, she knew that she needed to think fast and come up with a plan.

Lilith’s heart skipped a beat as she realized the trouble she was in. Her rash decision to hide in her mother’s travel bag had put her in a dangerous and unexpected situation. The panic and fear was overwhelming, and she felt her nerves and instincts take over as she began to scramble to find a way out. As her senses were overwhelmed and she frantically searched for an escape, she knew that she needed to stay calm and think rationally. She needed to come up with a plan and stick to it if she was to get out of this mess.

As Lilith stepped out of the bag, she was surprised to see her mother standing nearby, looking strangely amused by the whole situation. She was caught off guard by this unexpected reaction and wasn't sure what to say or how to explain herself. After a few awkward moments of silence, Lilith's mother finally spoke up and said, "Well, that was a bold move, Lilith. I have to admit, I'm impressed by your tenacity and courage. But it was also very foolish and reckless, and I hope you've learned a lesson from all of this.”

Lilith was speechless for a moment, trying to process her mother’s strange reaction, and unsure of how to explain herself. Her face went slightly red in embarrassment as her mother praised her for her boldness and courage, but also chastised her for her foolishness and recklessness. Lilith nodded in agreement as her mother continued to lecture her, and she knew that she had learned a valuable lesson about jumping into a situation without fully thinking it through.

Lilith's gaze was drawn to the striking appearance of her mother, who looked completely different from anything she had ever seen before. Her pale blue eyes, almost like ice, seemed to glisten in the soft light, and her blonde hair almost seemed to shine, giving her an ethereal quality. The dress she wore matched her eye color perfectly, and the pearls around her neck added a delicate touch. Lilith was overwhelmed by the beauty of her mother and found herself completely humbled in her presence. As she looked around the strange room, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of world she had stumbled into.

Lilith was mesmerized by her mother's appearance, and the otherworldly quality that she exuded. Her pale eyes and blonde hair gave her an almost ethereal essence, and Lilith was awestruck by her mother's beauty. She was overwhelmed and humbled in her presence, and found herself thinking that she had stumbled into a completely different world. Lilith had never seen anyone so beautiful, and she was filled with a sense of wonder and amazement at the sight of her mother.

Prologue

Chapter Two

[dragonbabes]

SHIT CAN YOU IMAGINE

“Thank you.” A tired edge has taken over Rook’s voice in a harsh raspiness. Lucanis has learned that they struggle with mornings; they claim that it’s only ever been since they’ve been tasked with preventing doomsday. The look Viago gave from over their shoulder, though, told him it might’ve been a white lie. It makes him chuckle to remember, even now as he sinks into the chair just to Rook’s right.

“You were out late,” his words trail off as he watches Rook take the cup from his extended hand and put it directly to their lips, “last night…” There’s a dumbfounded silence as the assassin turns the words over in his head.

Rook didn’t check for poison.

At first, there’s a trickle of worry; Rook always checks. Are they okay? Did they get hurt? How could they forget what is essentially Viago’s golden rule? No… They’d never forget that…

So… Rook chose to not check. Lucanis can’t think to keep the look of bewilderment from his face. There’s a pinch between his dark brows, a part of his lips, and a tilt to his head. Rook hums their question at him, and their eyes flick to his; what’s he looking at, they seem to ask. Lucanis instantly tears his gaze away and a short smile flitters across his lips. He’s not sure how to act, and he’s also not sure why that is. Spite takes the trouble of whispering a hint in the back of his mind:

“You want Rook. But you don’t take. Why?”

“You make this?” Rook’s hands linger over the pastries he’d made early this morning in a final attempt to keep himself conscious while the others were resting. He nods.

“Porras.” He says over the lip of his cup before taking a drink. His rich chocolate eyes note every movement Rook makes. From eying each pastry and taking the most appetizing, to bringing it directly to their lips again. Lips that pull upward at the corner, he notices, and lips that sit below sparkling eyes filled with what he can only call pleasure, bordering on ecstasy.

“This is so good.” Rook sighs. Again, they’re met with perturbed silence. His expression resumes the shocked look from before, but this time, he can’t fight the glossiness that takes up his warming eyes. Eyes of a man who’s realizing that, yes, Rook chose not to check the coffee he made. Not from laziness or as an act of childish rebellion, but because he was the one who made it.

Rook isn’t checking the foods he makes for them anymore? It almost makes him lay his head on the table and begin weeping. The joy — a warmth building in his chest that he could let out in a cry at the top of any building in Thedas — has him thrumming, and a smile pushing onto his parted lips. This time, Rook bothers to put their prodding look into words.

“What? You keep staring at me! Do I have something in my hair? On my face?” Their eyes trail down their body — his own eyes instinctively follow — as if to check if they’d forgotten to put clothes on. He only allows his smile to deepen.

“Nothing, Rook. I am only taking note that you like porras.” He stands and offers his hand to their emptied coffee cup. “Would you like more?” Rook reflects his smile back to him.

“Only if you pour it.”

His world seems to click into place. Every question that he couldn’t find the answer to is either worthless to know, or has been given to him just by the knee-bending feeling spreading through every inch of him. He accepts the revelation in stride: Rook trusts him.

They trust him with their life.

Lucanis feels Rook’s hold over him tighten, sinking their nails in deeper, until he’s entirely at their mercy… The thought, strangely enough, doesn’t scare him. If he is safe anywhere, it’s at Rook’s side.

He rides the joy over the moon, only to come back down when he watches them take the cup from his hand with a gracious smile, and take another drink without hesitation.

Rook trusts him with their life. Lucanis asks himself if he’ll be able to keep them safe. A question he can’t answer. The world opens up beneath him and begins to swallow him again.

“Why don’t you take?” Spite hisses. Lucanis looks to the coffee encased between his hands.

“Can you show me how to make these?” Rook butts into his spiraling thoughts. “If I made some for Viago, he might forgive me for sabotaging that operation.” Lucanis snorts and then chuckles. The gray clouds begin slink away from him.

“That’s a lot of porras.” They share a laugh on a quiet morning, just between the two of them.

Im sorry I literally keep posting entire fictions in reblogs but you guys keep having these wonderful ideas and my brain is annoying and really enjoys overthinking things.

Taash: You ever get offended that Rook always tests the food you make for poisons? Lucanis: Nope, they're a De Riva, Viago probably drilled that habit into them when they were five years old.

[reallygroovyninja]

Well, Microsoft has added AI to Word, and you can ask it to revise what you wrote. I have no words for this.

In the quiet comfort of her Boston haven, Lexa lounged, the afternoon sun draping the room in a golden embrace. Cradled in her cherished armchair, a formidable tome of legal complexities lay open on her lap. The material was daunting, yet Lexa’s resolve was unyielding—her future hinged on mastering these pages.

A sudden flutter, delicate yet distinct, stirred within her. It was an unfamiliar dance that quickened her pulse and drew her hand to her abdomen, the weighty textbook now a distant thought.

“Hello, my tiny wonder,” she breathed out, a tender smile blooming. “Are you reaching out from your silent world?”

The flutters wove a soft rhythm, a secret exchange between mother and child. Eyes closed, Lexa surrendered to the enchantment, her spirit intertwining with the new life she harbored.

“Your eagerness touches me,” she whispered, her voice a lullaby. “Our meeting is a dream I cherish. Already, you’ve painted my life with unexpected hues of joy.”

A soft laugh escaped her, thoughts adrift in futures imagined. “Will you inherit my tenacity? Or the indomitable spirit of your other mother? Regardless, you will be a tapestry of wonder.”

The baby’s movements seemed a reply to her musings, and a surge of love swelled within her. Her touch was a gentle benediction on the life that thrummed beneath.

“I am here, my love, now and always,” she vowed, her words a cradle of devotion. “Together, we’ll embark on life’s grand odyssey, step by tender step.”

In that serene communion, a profound tranquility enveloped Lexa, the flutters a poignant affirmation of the journey ahead. Clarke, her co-architect of dreams, was a world away at Stanford, immersed in her own academic odyssey. Their paths had forked, a mutual pact to pursue individual destinies. Yet, this visceral bond altered all.

The textbook lay abandoned on the coffee table as Lexa threaded her fingers through her hair, a maelstrom of emotion within her. The imperative was clear—Clarke must know, must share in this pivot of fate.

“It’s time,” Lexa murmured, conviction steadying her tremble. “She has a right to this truth. We must navigate this revelation together.”

Her fingers hesitated, then found Clarke’s name on her phone. The miles between them loomed large, but the call to connection was stronger. With a breath drawn from courage’s well, she dialed.

Clarke’s image flickered to life, her brow furrowed with worry. “Lexa? What’s amiss?”

Words lodged in Lexa’s throat, a tangle of fear and hope. “Clarke, I… I must confess…”

Clarke’s gaze sharpened, her voice a soothing anchor. “Speak, Lexa. I’m here.”

“The baby stirred today, a life sign from within. I carry our child, Clarke. Our plans, our separation—I cannot abide by them any longer. Our world has shifted…”

Emotions cascaded forth, raw and unguarded. Clarke’s face journeyed from bewilderment to a dawning comprehension.

“Lexa, pause. Absorb this moment,” Clarke intoned softly. “You’re with child, and it’s mine.”

Tears blurred Lexa’s vision as she nodded. “Yes. Our paths diverged, but now… I seek your presence, your strength.”

Clarke’s resolve shone through the screen. “Distance is but a number, Lexa. We’ll forge a new way, for you, for our child.”

Their conversation wove a tapestry of nascent plans and heartfelt assurances. Clarke’s voice, a beacon in the tumult, soothed Lexa’s frayed nerves.

“This is a tempest, Lexa,” Clarke acknowledged, her face a portrait of empathy and resolve. “But we’ll weather it as one. Rest now. Tomorrow, we chart our course anew.”

A smile, fragile yet sincere, graced Lexa’s lips. “Thank you, Clarke. You’re my harbor in this storm.”

“Slumber now, Lexa,” Clarke murmured. “Dream of brighter days.”

“Goodnight, Clarke,” Lexa replied, the call’s end a curtain fall on the day’s drama. She surrendered to sleep’s embrace, Clarke’s words a lullaby for her soul.

Dawn’s light heralded a soft rapping at the door. Lexa, bleary-eyed, approached, curiosity piqued.

The door swung open to reveal Clarke, resolute and real as the morning sun.

“Clarke?” Lexa’s voice was a whisper of disbelief. “How?”

Bags discarded, Clarke’s arms were sanctuary. “I couldn’t bear the distance,” she confessed. “Our plans are nothing compared to this, to us. We’ll brave this storm, side by side.”

Tears mingled as they embraced, the dawn of a new chapter. “You’re here,” Lexa marveled.

“I am,” Clarke affirmed, her eyes alight with fierce love. “And I’ll remain. Together, we are unbreakable.”

In that embrace, hope was rekindled. With Clarke’s return, they were a united front against the world’s caprice.

[mystery-of-a-magpie]

Spectacle

A graveyard of a hopeful youth overgrown

in spun sugar plum silhouettes 

each year drifting back to vibrant lights and spectacle.

The fairgrounds, a zombie lurching back from the dead 

Waltzing out of the rusted calliope 

wrapping the scene in an uneasy warmth 

with a foul feeling, a smell of burnt popcorn

lingering from years upon years of use.  

Horses rise and fall like the tide,

sending waves of anticipation as it splashes 

against the sun-kissed cheeks of the unafflicted.

It’s a circus of neon and gasoline, 

the smell of rubber mixing with the oils and sugar 

from the cramped food trucks and the 

sticky fingers that tug at soft sleeves 

choking back tears as they find their way home. 

There’s a bitter-sweet sorrow in the air, 

the type that locks you in a chokehold and 

forces cotton candy down your dry throat. 

The fairground, soon to be full of ghosts all 

searching for a path back to life as it was, before 

dust sparked by sunlight turned bombshells then ash. 

When dust-bunny-dreams weren’t death threats 

and funeral pyres. Before debts piled high among the rubble, 

so far from the innocent fluff we used to know.

The season draws to a close and the carnival packs its bags once more. 

The grifters and drifters and caught-in-the-rift-ers taking their leave

and shuffling to the next town. Another graveyard, another funeral pyre,

another Danse Macabre played in squeaks of jaded memories. 

They fox-trot to the familiar lull of laughter and sweat. 

They have made peace with the carousels and spotlights,

And the clowns put out their cigarettes and put on their smiles.

And the carnies take to their stage with bright fluorescent faces.

Through the falsity of it all, the young lad sat with 

the light of a thousand dying stars trapped in his bewildered eyes.

And the world he saw was not one of apparitions. 

He saw a world of life. 

He heard laughter dancing through a cool summer breeze, 

saw beads of sweat making skin glisten.

Almost ethereal in appearance, 

the world was a storybook opening,

the gates, his Once-upon-a-time. 

As the setting sun trapped the glitter of sugar-spun clouds, 

the stench of chlorine and sunscreen was traded in for 

the smell of rubber mixing with grease and preservatives 

Wafting from the cramped food trucks that lined pathways

Holding sticky fingers tugging at soft sleeves 

Choking back tears they didn't understand, 

With warm, loving arms soothing their tantrums.

As he breathed it in, he looked at the world the way only a child could, 

With joyous excitement and a mischievous smile that screamed “I am the world” and “Let the world be me” 

Everything candy-coated, warped by bubblegum 

And flushed cheeks, with whispers on a school bus 

And the tall tales behind scraped knees. 

On the last day of the fair, he returned, looking at the empty stalls where carnival games once lived and stages where the ghost of magic shows had vanished leaving only watered-down confetti in its wake. He looked at this world not with a sense of sorrow, nor bewilderment, 

but with the same wonder he held before.

His imagination filled in the blanks as he walked 

around the shadows of clowns and carousels. 

The lights of lanterns and fireflies replacing the 

Slowly dying lights of the clockwork fantasy. 

And he found joy in the magic of the world around the circus and spectacle. Outside the flamboyant tents and masterful illusions, he found wonder in the simple sway of the summer breeze. There was something beautiful about the way nature claimed the dead. And suddenly life and death worked in tandem and the world didn’t seem so frightening anymore. 

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 42-43

XLII.

ALL ALONE.

It was easy to promise self-abnegation when self was wrapped up in another, and heart and soul were purified by a sweet example; but when the helpful voice was silent, the daily lesson over, the beloved presence gone, and nothing remained but loneliness and grief, then Jo found her promise very hard to keep. How could she "comfort father and mother," when her own heart ached with a ceaseless longing for her sister; how could she "make the house cheerful," when all its light and warmth and beauty seemed to have deserted it when Beth left the old home for the new; and where in all the world could she "find some useful, happy work to do," that would take the place of the loving service which had been its own reward? She tried in a blind, hopeless way to do her duty, secretly rebelling against it all the while, for it seemed unjust that her few joys should be lessened, her burdens made heavier, and life get harder and harder as she toiled along. Some people seemed to get all sunshine, and some all shadow; it was not fair, for she tried more than Amy to be good, but never got any reward, only disappointment, trouble, and hard work.

Poor Jo, these were dark days to her, for something like despair came over her when she thought of spending all her life in that quiet house, devoted to humdrum cares, a few small pleasures, and the duty that never seemed to grow any easier. "I can't do it. I wasn't meant for a life like this, and I know I shall break away and do something desperate if somebody don't come and help me," she said to herself, when her first efforts failed, and she fell into the moody, miserable state of mind which often comes when strong wills have to yield to the inevitable.

517 But some one did come and help her, though Jo did not recognize her good angels at once, because they wore familiar shapes, and used the simple spells best fitted to poor humanity. Often she started up at night, thinking Beth called her; and when the sight of the little empty bed made her cry with the bitter cry of an unsubmissive sorrow, "O Beth, come back! come back!" she did not stretch out her yearning arms in vain; for, as quick to hear her sobbing as she had been to hear her sister's faintest whisper, her mother came to comfort her, not with words only, but the patient tenderness that soothes by a touch, tears that were mute reminders of a greater grief than Jo's, and broken whispers, more eloquent than prayers, because hopeful resignation went hand-in-hand with natural sorrow. Sacred moments, when heart talked to heart in the silence of the night, turning affliction to a blessing, which chastened grief and strengthened love. Feeling this, Jo's burden seemed easier to bear, duty grew sweeter, and life looked more endurable, seen from the safe shelter of her mother's arms.

When aching heart was a little comforted, troubled mind likewise found help; for one day she went to the study, and, leaning over the good gray head lifted to welcome her with a tranquil smile, she said, very humbly,—

"Father, talk to me as you did to Beth. I need it more than she did, for I'm all wrong."

"My dear, nothing can comfort me like this," he answered, with a falter in his voice, and both arms round her, as if he, too, needed help, and did not fear to ask it.

Then, sitting in Beth's little chair close beside him, Jo told her troubles,—the resentful sorrow for her loss, the fruitless efforts that discouraged her, the want of faith that made life look so dark, and all the sad bewilderment which we call despair. She gave him entire confidence, he gave her the help she needed, and both found consolation in the act; for the time had come when they could talk together not only as father and daughter, but as man and woman, able and glad to serve each other with mutual sympathy as well as mutual love. Happy, thoughtful times there in the old study which Jo called "the church of one member," and from which she came with fresh courage, 518 recovered cheerfulness, and a more submissive spirit; for the parents who had taught one child to meet death without fear, were trying now to teach another to accept life without despondency or distrust, and to use its beautiful opportunities with gratitude and power.

Other helps had Jo,—humble, wholesome duties and delights that would not be denied their part in serving her, and which she slowly learned to see and value. Brooms and dishcloths never could be as distasteful as they once had been, for Beth had presided over both; and something of her housewifely spirit seemed to linger round the little mop and the old brush, that was never thrown away. As she used them, Jo found herself humming the songs Beth used to hum, imitating Beth's orderly ways, and giving the little touches here and there that kept everything fresh and cosey, which was the first step toward making home happy, though she didn't know it, till Hannah said with an approving squeeze of the hand,—

"You thoughtful creter, you're determined we sha'n't miss that dear lamb ef you can help it. We don't say much, but we see it, and the Lord will bless you for't, see ef He don't."

519 As they sat sewing together, Jo discovered how much improved her sister Meg was; how well she could talk, how much she knew about good, womanly impulses, thoughts, and feelings, how happy she was in husband and children, and how much they were all doing for each other.

"Marriage is an excellent thing, after all. I wonder if I should blossom out half as well as you have, if I tried it?" said Jo, as she constructed a kite for Demi, in the topsy-turvy nursery.

"It's just what you need to bring out the tender, womanly half of your nature, Jo. You are like a chestnut-burr, prickly outside, but silky-soft within, and a sweet kernel, if one can only get at it. Love will make you show your heart some day, and then the rough burr will fall off."

"Frost opens chestnut-burrs, ma'am, and it takes a good shake to bring them down. Boys go nutting, and I don't care to be bagged by them," returned Jo, pasting away at the kite which no wind that blows would ever carry up, for Daisy had tied herself on as a bob.

Meg laughed, for she was glad to see a glimmer of Jo's old spirit, but she felt it her duty to enforce her opinion by every argument in her power; and the sisterly chats were not wasted, especially as two of Meg's most effective arguments were the babies, whom Jo loved tenderly. Grief is the best opener for some hearts, and Jo's was nearly ready for the bag: a little more sunshine to ripen the nut, then, not a boy's impatient shake, but a man's hand reached up to pick it gently from the burr, and find the kernel sound and sweet. If she had suspected this, she would have shut up tight, and been more prickly than ever; fortunately she wasn't thinking about herself, so, when the time came, down she dropped.

Now, if she had been the heroine of a moral story-book, she ought at this period of her life to have become quite saintly, renounced the world, and gone about doing good in a mortified bonnet, with tracts in her pocket. But, you see, Jo wasn't a heroine; she was only a struggling human girl, like hundreds of others, and she just acted out her nature, being sad, cross, listless, or energetic, as the mood suggested. It's highly virtuous to say we'll be good, but we can't do it all at once, and it takes a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together, before 520 some of us even get our feet set in the right way. Jo had got so far, she was learning to do her duty, and to feel unhappy if she did not; but to do it cheerfully—ah, that was another thing! She had often said she wanted to do something splendid, no matter how hard; and now she had her wish, for what could be more beautiful than to devote her life to father and mother, trying to make home as happy to them as they had to her? And, if difficulties were necessary to increase the splendor of the effort, what could be harder for a restless, ambitious girl than to give up her own hopes, plans, and desires, and cheerfully live for others?

Providence had taken her at her word; here was the task, not what she had expected, but better, because self had no part in it: now, could she do it? She decided that she would try; and, in her first attempt, she found the helps I have suggested. Still another was given her, and she took it, not as a reward, but as a comfort, as Christian took the refreshment afforded by the little arbor where he rested, as he climbed the hill called Difficulty.

"Why don't you write? That always used to make you happy," said her mother, once, when the desponding fit overshadowed Jo.

"I've no heart to write, and if I had, nobody cares for my things."

"We do; write something for us, and never mind the rest of the world. Try it, dear; I'm sure it would do you good, and please us very much."

"Don't believe I can;" but Jo got out her desk, and began to overhaul her half-finished manuscripts.

An hour afterward her mother peeped in, and there she was, scratching away, with her black pinafore on, and an absorbed expression, which caused Mrs. March to smile, and slip away, well pleased with the success of her suggestion. Jo never knew how it happened, but something got into that story that went straight to the hearts of those who read it; for, when her family had laughed and cried over it, her father sent it, much against her will, to one of the popular magazines, and, to her utter surprise, it was not only paid for, but others requested. Letters from several persons, whose praise was honor, followed the appearance of the little story, newspapers copied it, and strangers as well as friends admired it. For a small thing it was a great success; 521 and Jo was more astonished than when her novel was commended and condemned all at once.

"I don't understand it. What can there be in a simple little story like that, to make people praise it so?" she said, quite bewildered.

"There is truth in it, Jo, that's the secret; humor and pathos make it alive, and you have found your style at last. You wrote with no thought of fame or money, and put your heart into it, my daughter; you have had the bitter, now comes the sweet. Do your best, and grow as happy as we are in your success."

"If there is anything good or true in what I write, it isn't mine; I owe it all to you and mother and to Beth," said Jo, more touched by her father's words than by any amount of praise from the world.

So, taught by love and sorrow, Jo wrote her little stories, and sent them away to make friends for themselves and her, finding it a very charitable world to such humble wanderers; for they were kindly welcomed, and sent home comfortable tokens to their mother, like dutiful children whom good fortune overtakes.

When Amy and Laurie wrote of their engagement, Mrs. March feared that Jo would find it difficult to rejoice over it, but her fears were soon set at rest; for, though Jo looked grave at first, she took it very quietly, and was full of hopes and plans for "the children" before she read the letter twice. It was a sort of written duet, wherein each glorified the other in lover-like fashion, very pleasant to read and satisfactory to think of, for no one had any objection to make.

"You like it, mother?" said Jo, as they laid down the closely written sheets, and looked at one another.

"Yes, I hoped it would be so, ever since Amy wrote that she had refused Fred. I felt sure then that something better than what you call the 'mercenary spirit' had come over her, and a hint here and there in her letters made me suspect that love and Laurie would win the day."

"How sharp you are, Marmee, and how silent! You never said a word to me."

"Mothers have need of sharp eyes and discreet tongues when they have girls to manage. I was half afraid to put the idea into your head, lest you should write and congratulate them before the thing was settled."

522 "I'm not the scatter-brain I was; you may trust me, I'm sober and sensible enough for any one's confidante now."

"So you are, dear, and I should have made you mine, only I fancied it might pain you to learn that your Teddy loved any one else."

"Now, mother, did you really think I could be so silly and selfish, after I'd refused his love, when it was freshest, if not best?"

"I knew you were sincere then, Jo, but lately I have thought that if he came back, and asked again, you might, perhaps, feel like giving another answer. Forgive me, dear, I can't help seeing that you are very lonely, and sometimes there is a hungry look in your eyes that goes to my heart; so I fancied that your boy might fill the empty place if he tried now."

"No, mother, it is better as it is, and I'm glad Amy has learned to love him. But you are right in one thing: I am lonely, and perhaps if Teddy had tried again, I might have said 'Yes,' not because I love him any more, but because I care more to be loved than when he went away."

"I'm glad of that, Jo, for it shows that you are getting on. There are plenty to love you, so try to be satisfied with father and mother, sisters and brothers, friends and babies, till the best lover of all comes to give you your reward."

"Mothers are the best lovers in the world; but I don't mind whispering to Marmee that I'd like to try all kinds. It's very curious, but the more I try to satisfy myself with all sorts of natural affections, the more I seem to want. I'd no idea hearts could take in so many; mine is so elastic, it never seems full now, and I used to be quite contented with my family. I don't understand it."

"I do;" and Mrs. March smiled her wise smile, as Jo turned back the leaves to read what Amy said of Laurie.

"It is so beautiful to be loved as Laurie loves me; he isn't sentimental, doesn't say much about it, but I see and feel it in all he says and does, and it makes me so happy and so humble that I don't seem to be the same girl I was. I never knew how good and generous and tender he was till now, for he lets me read his heart, and I find it full of noble impulses and hopes and purposes, and am so proud to know it's mine. He says he feels as if he 'could make a prosperous 523 voyage now with me aboard as mate, and lots of love for ballast.' I pray he may, and try to be all he believes me, for I love my gallant captain with all my heart and soul and might, and never will desert him, while God lets us be together. O mother, I never knew how much like heaven this world could be, when two people love and live for one another!"

"And that's our cool, reserved, and worldly Amy! Truly, love does work miracles. How very, very happy they must be!" And Jo laid the rustling sheets together with a careful hand, as one might shut the covers of a lovely romance, which holds the reader fast till the end comes, and he finds himself alone in the work-a-day world again.

By and by Jo roamed away upstairs, for it was rainy, and she could not walk. A restless spirit possessed her, and the old feeling came again, not bitter as it once was, but a sorrowfully patient wonder why one sister should have all she asked, the other nothing. It was not true; she knew that, and tried to put it away, but the natural craving for affection was strong, and Amy's happiness woke the hungry longing for some one to "love with heart and soul, and cling to while God let them be together."

Up in the garret, where Jo's unquiet wanderings ended, stood four little wooden chests in a row, each marked with its owner's name, and each filled with relics of the childhood and girlhood ended now for all. Jo glanced into them, and when she came to her own, leaned her chin on the edge, and stared absently at the chaotic collection, till a bundle of old exercise-books caught her eye. She drew them out, turned them over, and re-lived that pleasant winter at kind Mrs. Kirke's. She had smiled at first, then she looked thoughtful, next sad, and when she came to a little message written in the Professor's hand, her lips began to tremble, the books slid out of her lap, and she sat looking at the friendly words, as if they took a new meaning, and touched a tender spot in her heart.

"Wait for me, my friend. I may be a little late, but I shall surely come."

"Oh, if he only would! So kind, so good, so patient with me always; my dear old Fritz, I didn't value him half enough when I had 524 him, but now how I should love to see him, for every one seems going away from me, and I'm all alone."

And holding the little paper fast, as if it were a promise yet to be fulfilled, Jo laid her head down on a comfortable rag-bag, and cried, as if in opposition to the rain pattering on the roof.

Was it all self-pity, loneliness, or low spirits? or was it the waking up of a sentiment which had bided its time as patiently as its inspirer? Who shall say?

525

XLIII.

SURPRISES.

Jo was alone in the twilight, lying on the old sofa, looking at the fire, and thinking. It was her favorite way of spending the hour of dusk; no one disturbed her, and she used to lie there on Beth's little red pillow, planning stories, dreaming dreams, or thinking tender thoughts of the sister who never seemed far away. Her face looked tired, grave, and rather sad; for to-morrow was her birthday, and she was thinking how fast the years went by, how old she was getting, and how little she seemed to have accomplished. Almost twenty-five, and nothing to show for it. Jo was mistaken in that; there was a good deal to show, and by and by she saw, and was grateful for it.

"An old maid, that's what I'm to be. A literary spinster, with a pen for a spouse, a family of stories for children, and twenty years 526 hence a morsel of fame, perhaps; when, like poor Johnson, I'm old, and can't enjoy it, solitary, and can't share it, independent, and don't need it. Well, I needn't be a sour saint nor a selfish sinner; and, I dare say, old maids are very comfortable when they get used to it; but—" and there Jo sighed, as if the prospect was not inviting.

It seldom is, at first, and thirty seems the end of all things to five-and-twenty; but it's not so bad as it looks, and one can get on quite happily if one has something in one's self to fall back upon. At twenty-five, girls begin to talk about being old maids, but secretly resolve that they never will be; at thirty they say nothing about it, but quietly accept the fact, and, if sensible, console themselves by remembering that they have twenty more useful, happy years, in which they may be learning to grow old gracefully. Don't laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragical romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns, and many silent sacrifices of youth, health, ambition, love itself, make the faded faces beautiful in God's sight. Even the sad, sour sisters should be kindly dealt with, because they have missed the sweetest part of life, if for no other reason; and, looking at them with compassion, not contempt, girls in their bloom should remember that they too may miss the blossom time; that rosy cheeks don't last forever, that silver threads will come in the bonnie brown hair, and that, by and by, kindness and respect will be as sweet as love and admiration now.

Gentlemen, which means boys, be courteous to the old maids, no matter how poor and plain and prim, for the only chivalry worth having is that which is the readiest to pay deference to the old, protect the feeble, and serve womankind, regardless of rank, age, or color. Just recollect the good aunts who have not only lectured and fussed, but nursed and petted, too often without thanks; the scrapes they have helped you out of, the "tips" they have given you from their small store, the stitches the patient old fingers have set for you, the steps the willing old feet have taken, and gratefully pay the dear old ladies the little attentions that women love to receive as long as they live. The bright-eyed girls are quick to see such traits, and will like you all the better for them; and if death, almost the only power 527 that can part mother and son, should rob you of yours, you will be sure to find a tender welcome and maternal cherishing from some Aunt Priscilla, who has kept the warmest corner of her lonely old heart for "the best nevvy in the world."

Jo must have fallen asleep (as I dare say my reader has during this little homily), for suddenly Laurie's ghost seemed to stand before her,—a substantial, lifelike ghost,—leaning over her, with the very look he used to wear when he felt a good deal and didn't like to show it. But, like Jenny in the ballad,—

"She could not think it he,"

and lay staring up at him in startled silence, till he stooped and kissed her. Then she knew him, and flew up, crying joyfully,—

"O my Teddy! O my Teddy!"

"Dear Jo, you are glad to see me, then?"

"Glad! My blessed boy, words can't express my gladness. Where's Amy?"

"Your mother has got her down at Meg's. We stopped there by the way, and there was no getting my wife out of their clutches."

"Your what?" cried Jo, for Laurie uttered those two words with an unconscious pride and satisfaction which betrayed him.

"Oh, the dickens! now I've done it;" and he looked so guilty that Jo was down upon him like a flash.

"You've gone and got married!"

"Yes, please, but I never will again;" and he went down upon his knees, with a penitent clasping of hands, and a face full of mischief, mirth, and triumph.

"Actually married?"

"Very much so, thank you."

"Mercy on us! What dreadful thing will you do next?" and Jo fell into her seat, with a gasp.

"A characteristic, but not exactly complimentary, congratulation," returned Laurie, still in an abject attitude, but beaming with satisfaction.

"What can you expect, when you take one's breath away, creeping in like a burglar, and letting cats out of bags like that? Get up, you ridiculous boy, and tell me all about it."

528 "Not a word, unless you let me come in my old place, and promise not to barricade."

Jo laughed at that as she had not done for many a long day, and patted the sofa invitingly, as she said, in a cordial tone,—

"The old pillow is up garret, and we don't need it now; so, come and 'fess, Teddy."

"How good it sounds to hear you say 'Teddy'! No one ever calls me that but you;" and Laurie sat down, with an air of great content.

"What does Amy call you?"

"My lord."

"That's like her. Well, you look it;" and Jo's eyes plainly betrayed that she found her boy comelier than ever.

The pillow was gone, but there was a barricade, nevertheless,—a natural one, raised by time, absence, and change of heart. Both felt it, and for a minute looked at one another as if that invisible barrier cast a little shadow over them. It was gone directly, however, for Laurie said, with a vain attempt at dignity,—

"Don't I look like a married man and the head of a family?"

"Not a bit, and you never will. You've grown bigger and bonnier, but you are the same scapegrace as ever."

"Now, really, Jo, you ought to treat me with more respect," began Laurie, who enjoyed it all immensely.

"How can I, when the mere idea of you, married and settled, is so irresistibly funny that I can't keep sober!" answered Jo, smiling all over her face, so infectiously that they had another laugh, and then settled down for a good talk, quite in the pleasant old fashion.

"It's no use your going out in the cold to get Amy, for they are all coming up presently. I couldn't wait; I wanted to be the one to tell you the grand surprise, and have 'first skim,' as we used to say when we squabbled about the cream."

"Of course you did, and spoilt your story by beginning at the wrong end. Now, start right, and tell me how it all happened; I'm pining to know."

"Well, I did it to please Amy," began Laurie, with a twinkle that made Jo exclaim,—

529 "Fib number one; Amy did it to please you. Go on, and tell the truth, if you can, sir."

"Now she's beginning to marm it; isn't it jolly to hear her?" said Laurie to the fire, and the fire glowed and sparkled as if it quite agreed. "It's all the same, you know, she and I being one. We planned to come home with the Carrols, a month or more ago, but they suddenly changed their minds, and decided to pass another winter in Paris. But grandpa wanted to come home; he went to please me, and I couldn't let him go alone, neither could I leave Amy; and Mrs. Carrol had got English notions about chaperons and such nonsense, and wouldn't let Amy come with us. So I just settled the difficulty by saying, 'Let's be married, and then we can do as we like.'"

"Of course you did; you always have things to suit you."

"Not always;" and something in Laurie's voice made Jo say hastily,—

"How did you ever get aunt to agree?"

"It was hard work; but, between us, we talked her over, for we had heaps of good reasons on our side. There wasn't time to write and ask leave, but you all liked it, had consented to it by and by, and it was only 'taking Time by the fetlock,' as my wife says."

"Aren't we proud of those two words, and don't we like to say them?" interrupted Jo, addressing the fire in her turn, and watching with delight the happy light it seemed to kindle in the eyes that had been so tragically gloomy when she saw them last.

"A trifle, perhaps; she's such a captivating little woman I can't help being proud of her. Well, then, uncle and aunt were there to play propriety; we were so absorbed in one another we were of no mortal use apart, and that charming arrangement would make everything easy all round; so we did it."

"When, where, how?" asked Jo, in a fever of feminine interest and curiosity, for she could not realize it a particle.

"Six weeks ago, at the American consul's, in Paris; a very quiet wedding, of course, for even in our happiness we didn't forget dear little Beth."

Jo put her hand in his as he said that, and Laurie gently smoothed the little red pillow, which he remembered well.

530 "Why didn't you let us know afterward?" asked Jo, in a quieter tone, when they had sat quite still a minute.

"We wanted to surprise you; we thought we were coming directly home, at first; but the dear old gentleman, as soon as we were married, found he couldn't be ready under a month, at least, and sent us off to spend our honeymoon wherever we liked. Amy had once called Valrosa a regular honeymoon home, so we went there, and were as happy as people are but once in their lives. My faith! wasn't it love among the roses!"

Laurie seemed to forget Jo for a minute, and Jo was glad of it; for the fact that he told her these things so freely and naturally assured her that he had quite forgiven and forgotten. She tried to draw away her hand; but, as if he guessed the thought that prompted the half-involuntary impulse, Laurie held it fast, and said, with a manly gravity she had never seen in him before,—

"Jo, dear, I want to say one thing, and then we'll put it by forever. As I told you in my letter, when I wrote that Amy had been so kind to me, I never shall stop loving you; but the love is altered, and I have learned to see that it is better as it is. Amy and you change places in my heart, that's all. I think it was meant to be so, and would have come about naturally, if I had waited, as you tried to make me; but I never could be patient, and so I got a heartache. I was a boy then, headstrong and violent; and it took a hard lesson to show me my mistake. For it was one, Jo, as you said, and I found it out, after making a fool of myself. Upon my word, I was so tumbled up in my mind, at one time, that I didn't know which I loved best, you or Amy, and tried to love both alike; but I couldn't, and when I saw her in Switzerland, everything seemed to clear up all at once. You both got into your right places, and I felt sure that it was well off with the old love before it was on with the new; that I could honestly share my heart between sister Jo and wife Amy, and love them both dearly. Will you believe it, and go back to the happy old times when we first knew one another?"

"I'll believe it, with all my heart; but, Teddy, we never can be boy and girl again: the happy old times can't come back, and we mustn't expect it. We are man and woman now, with sober work 531 to do, for playtime is over, and we must give up frolicking. I'm sure you feel this; I see the change in you, and you'll find it in me. I shall miss my boy, but I shall love the man as much, and admire him more, because he means to be what I hoped he would. We can't be little playmates any longer, but we will be brother and sister, to love and help one another all our lives, won't we, Laurie?"

He did not say a word, but took the hand she offered him, and laid his face down on it for a minute, feeling that out of the grave of a boyish passion, there had risen a beautiful, strong friendship to bless them both. Presently Jo said cheerfully, for she didn't want the coming home to be a sad one,—

"I can't make it true that you children are really married, and going to set up housekeeping. Why, it seems only yesterday that I was buttoning Amy's pinafore, and pulling your hair when you teased. Mercy me, how time does fly!"

"As one of the children is older than yourself, you needn't talk so like a grandma. I flatter myself I'm a 'gentleman growed,' as Peggotty said of David; and when you see Amy, you'll find her rather a precocious infant," said Laurie, looking amused at her maternal air.

"You may be a little older in years, but I'm ever so much older in feeling, Teddy. Women always are; and this last year has been such a hard one that I feel forty."

"Poor Jo! we left you to bear it alone, while we went pleasuring. You are older; here's a line, and there's another; unless you smile, your eyes look sad, and when I touched the cushion, just now, I found a tear on it. You've had a great deal to bear, and had to bear it all alone. What a selfish beast I've been!" and Laurie pulled his own hair, with a remorseful look.

But Jo only turned over the traitorous pillow, and answered, in a tone which she tried to make quite cheerful,—

"No, I had father and mother to help me, the dear babies to comfort me, and the thought that you and Amy were safe and happy, to make the troubles here easier to bear. I am lonely, sometimes, but I dare say it's good for me, and—"

"You never shall be again," broke in Laurie, putting his arm about her, as if to fence out every human ill. "Amy and I can't get on 532 without you, so you must come and teach 'the children' to keep house, and go halves in everything, just as we used to do, and let us pet you, and all be blissfully happy and friendly together."

"If I shouldn't be in the way, it would be very pleasant. I begin to feel quite young already; for, somehow, all my troubles seemed to fly away when you came. You always were a comfort, Teddy;" and Jo leaned her head on his shoulder, just as she did years ago, when Beth lay ill, and Laurie told her to hold on to him.

He looked down at her, wondering if she remembered the time, but Jo was smiling to herself, as if, in truth, her troubles had all vanished at his coming.

"You are the same Jo still, dropping tears about one minute, and laughing the next. You look a little wicked now; what is it, grandma?"

"I was wondering how you and Amy get on together."

"Like angels!"

"Yes, of course, at first; but which rules?"

"I don't mind telling you that she does, now; at least I let her think so,—it pleases her, you know. By and by we shall take turns, for marriage, they say, halves one's rights and doubles one's duties."

"You'll go on as you begin, and Amy will rule you all the days of your life."

"Well, she does it so imperceptibly that I don't think I shall mind much. She is the sort of woman who knows how to rule well; in fact, I rather like it, for she winds one round her finger as softly and prettily as a skein of silk, and makes you feel as if she was doing you a favor all the while."

"That ever I should live to see you a henpecked husband and enjoying it!" cried Jo, with uplifted hands.

It was good to see Laurie square his shoulders, and smile with masculine scorn at that insinuation, as he replied, with his "high and mighty" air,—

"Amy is too well-bred for that, and I am not the sort of man to submit to it. My wife and I respect ourselves and one another too much ever to tyrannize or quarrel."

Jo liked that, and thought the new dignity very becoming, but the 533 boy seemed changing very fast into the man, and regret mingled with her pleasure.

"I am sure of that; Amy and you never did quarrel as we used to. She is the sun and I the wind, in the fable, and the sun managed the man best, you remember."

"She can blow him up as well as shine on him," laughed Laurie. "Such a lecture as I got at Nice! I give you my word it was a deal worse than any of your scoldings,—a regular rouser. I'll tell you all about it sometime,—she never will, because, after telling me that she despised and was ashamed of me, she lost her heart to the despicable party and married the good-for-nothing."

"What baseness! Well, if she abuses you, come to me, and I'll defend you."

"I look as if I needed it, don't I?" said Laurie, getting up and striking an attitude which suddenly changed from the imposing to the rapturous, as Amy's voice was heard calling,—

"Where is she? Where's my dear old Jo?"

In trooped the whole family, and every one was hugged and kissed all over again, and, after several vain attempts, the three wanderers were set down to be looked at and exulted over. Mr. Laurence, hale and hearty as ever, was quite as much improved as the others by his foreign tour, for the crustiness seemed to be nearly gone, and the old-fashioned courtliness had received a polish which made it kindlier than ever. It was good to see him beam at "my children," as he called the young pair; it was better still to see Amy pay him the daughterly duty and affection which completely won his old heart; and best of all, to watch Laurie revolve about the two, as if never tired of enjoying the pretty picture they made.

The minute she put her eyes upon Amy, Meg became conscious that her own dress hadn't a Parisian air, that young Mrs. Moffat would be entirely eclipsed by young Mrs. Laurence, and that "her ladyship" was altogether a most elegant and graceful woman. Jo thought, as she watched the pair, "How well they look together! I was right, and Laurie has found the beautiful, accomplished girl who will become his home better than clumsy old Jo, and be a pride, not a torment to him." Mrs. March and her husband smiled and nodded at each 534 other with happy faces, for they saw that their youngest had done well, not only in worldly things, but the better wealth of love, confidence, and happiness.

For Amy's face was full of the soft brightness which betokens a peaceful heart, her voice had a new tenderness in it, and the cool, prim carriage was changed to a gentle dignity, both womanly and winning. No little affectations marred it, and the cordial sweetness of her manner was more charming than the new beauty or the old grace, for it stamped her at once with the unmistakable sign of the true gentlewoman she had hoped to become.

"Love has done much for our little girl," said her mother softly.

"She has had a good example before her all her life, my dear," Mr. March whispered back, with a loving look at the worn face and gray head beside him.

Daisy found it impossible to keep her eyes off her "pitty aunty," but attached herself like a lap-dog to the wonderful châtelaine full of delightful charms. Demi paused to consider the new relationship 535 before he compromised himself by the rash acceptance of a bribe, which took the tempting form of a family of wooden bears from Berne. A flank movement produced an unconditional surrender, however, for Laurie knew where to have him.

"Young man, when I first had the honor of making your acquaintance you hit me in the face: now I demand the satisfaction of a gentleman;" and with that the tall uncle proceeded to toss and tousle the small nephew in a way that damaged his philosophical dignity as much as it delighted his boyish soul.

"Blest if she ain't in silk from head to foot? Ain't it a relishin' sight to see her settin' there as fine as a fiddle, and hear folks calling little Amy, Mis. Laurence?" muttered old Hannah, who could not resist frequent "peeks" through the slide as she set the table in a most decidedly promiscuous manner.

Mercy on us, how they did talk! first one, then the other, then all burst out together, trying to tell the history of three years in half an hour. It was fortunate that tea was at hand, to produce a lull and provide refreshment, for they would have been hoarse and faint if they had gone on much longer. Such a happy procession as filed away into the little dining-room! Mr. March proudly escorted "Mrs. Laurence;" Mrs. March as proudly leaned on the arm of "my son;" the old gentleman took Jo, with a whispered "You must be my girl now," and a glance at the empty corner by the fire, that made Jo whisper back, with trembling lips, "I'll try to fill her place, sir."

The twins pranced behind, feeling that the millennium was at hand, for every one was so busy with the new-comers that they were left to revel at their own sweet will, and you may be sure they made the most of the opportunity. Didn't they steal sips of tea, stuff gingerbread ab libitum, get a hot biscuit apiece, and, as a crowning trespass, didn't they each whisk a captivating little tart into their tiny pockets, there to stick and crumble treacherously, teaching them that both human nature and pastry are frail? Burdened with the guilty consciousness of the sequestered tarts, and fearing that Dodo's sharp eyes would pierce the thin disguise of cambric and merino which hid their booty, the little sinners attached themselves to "Dranpa," who hadn't his spectacles on. Amy, who was handed about like refreshments, returned 536 to the parlor on Father Laurence's arm; the others paired off as before, and this arrangement left Jo companionless. She did not mind it at the minute, for she lingered to answer Hannah's eager inquiry,—

"Will Miss Amy ride in her coop (coupé), and use all them lovely silver dishes that's stored away over yander?"

"Shouldn't wonder if she drove six white horses, ate off gold plate, and wore diamonds and point-lace every day. Teddy thinks nothing too good for her," returned Jo with infinite satisfaction.

"No more there is! Will you have hash or fish-balls for breakfast?" asked Hannah, who wisely mingled poetry and prose.

"I don't care;" and Jo shut the door, feeling that food was an uncongenial topic just then. She stood a minute looking at the party vanishing above, and, as Demi's short plaid legs toiled up the last stair, a sudden sense of loneliness came over her so strongly that she looked about her with dim eyes, as if to find something to lean upon, for even Teddy had deserted her. If she had known what birthday gift was coming every minute nearer and nearer, she would not have said to herself, "I'll weep a little weep when I go to bed; it won't do to be dismal now." Then she drew her hand over her eyes,—for one of her boyish habits was never to know where her handkerchief was,—and had just managed to call up a smile when there came a knock at the porch-door.

She opened it with hospitable haste, and started as if another ghost had come to surprise her; for there stood a tall, bearded gentleman, beaming on her from the darkness like a midnight sun.

"O Mr. Bhaer, I am so glad to see you!" cried Jo, with a clutch, as if she feared the night would swallow him up before she could get him in.

"And I to see Miss Marsch,—but no, you haf a party—" and the Professor paused as the sound of voices and the tap of dancing feet came down to them.

"No, we haven't, only the family. My sister and friends have just come home, and we are all very happy. Come in, and make one of us."

Though a very social man, I think Mr. Bhaer would have gone 537 decorously away, and come again another day; but how could he, when Jo shut the door behind him, and bereft him of his hat? Perhaps her face had something to do with it, for she forgot to hide her joy at seeing him, and showed it with a frankness that proved irresistible to the solitary man, whose welcome far exceeded his boldest hopes.

"If I shall not be Monsieur de Trop, I will so gladly see them all. You haf been ill, my friend?"

He put the question abruptly, for, as Jo hung up his coat, the light fell on her face, and he saw a change in it.

"Not ill, but tired and sorrowful. We have had trouble since I saw you last."

"Ah, yes, I know. My heart was sore for you when I heard that;" 538 and he shook hands again, with such a sympathetic face that Jo felt as if no comfort could equal the look of the kind eyes, the grasp of the big, warm hand.

"Father, mother, this is my friend, Professor Bhaer," she said, with a face and tone of such irrepressible pride and pleasure that she might as well have blown a trumpet and opened the door with a flourish.

If the stranger had had any doubts about his reception, they were set at rest in a minute by the cordial welcome he received. Every one greeted him kindly, for Jo's sake at first, but very soon they liked him for his own. They could not help it, for he carried the talisman that opens all hearts, and these simple people warmed to him at once, feeling even the more friendly because he was poor; for poverty enriches those who live above it, and is a sure passport to truly hospitable spirits. Mr. Bhaer sat looking about him with the air of a traveller who knocks at a strange door, and, when it opens, finds himself at home. The children went to him like bees to a honey-pot; and, establishing themselves on each knee, proceeded to captivate him by rifling his pockets, pulling his beard, and investigating his watch, with juvenile audacity. The women telegraphed their approval to one another, and Mr. March, feeling that he had got a kindred spirit, opened his choicest stores for his guest's benefit, while silent John listened and enjoyed the talk, but said not a word, and Mr. Laurence found it impossible to go to sleep.

If Jo had not been otherwise engaged, Laurie's behavior would have amused her; for a faint twinge, not of jealousy, but something like suspicion, caused that gentleman to stand aloof at first, and observe the new-comer with brotherly circumspection. But it did not last long. He got interested in spite of himself, and, before he knew it, was drawn into the circle; for Mr. Bhaer talked well in this genial atmosphere, and did himself justice. He seldom spoke to Laurie, but he looked at him often, and a shadow would pass across his face, as if regretting his own lost youth, as he watched the young man in his prime. Then his eye would turn to Jo so wistfully that she would have surely answered the mute inquiry if she had seen it; but Jo had her own eyes to take care of, and, feeling that they could not be 539 trusted, she prudently kept them on the little sock she was knitting, like a model maiden aunt.

A stealthy glance now and then refreshed her like sips of fresh water after a dusty walk, for the sidelong peeps showed her several propitious omens. Mr. Bhaer's face had lost the absent-minded expression, and looked all alive with interest in the present moment, actually young and handsome, she thought, forgetting to compare him with Laurie, as she usually did strange men, to their great detriment. Then he seemed quite inspired, though the burial customs of the ancients, to which the conversation had strayed, might not be considered an exhilarating topic. Jo quite glowed with triumph when Teddy got quenched in an argument, and thought to herself, as she watched her father's absorbed face, "How he would enjoy having such a man as my Professor to talk with every day!" Lastly, Mr. Bhaer was dressed in a new suit of black, which made him look more like a gentleman than ever. His bushy hair had been cut and smoothly brushed, but didn't stay in order long, for, in exciting moments, he rumpled it up in the droll way he used to do; and Jo liked it rampantly erect better than flat, because she thought it gave his fine forehead a Jove-like aspect. Poor Jo, how she did glorify that plain man, as she sat knitting away so quietly, yet letting nothing escape her, not even the fact that Mr. Bhaer actually had gold sleeve-buttons in his immaculate wristbands!

"Dear old fellow! He couldn't have got himself up with more care if he'd been going a-wooing," said Jo to herself; and then a sudden thought, born of the words, made her blush so dreadfully that she had to drop her ball, and go down after it to hide her face.

The manœuvre did not succeed as well as she expected, however; for, though just in the act of setting fire to a funeral-pile, the Professor dropped his torch, metaphorically speaking, and made a dive after the little blue ball. Of course they bumped their heads smartly together, saw stars, and both came up flushed and laughing, without the ball, to resume their seats, wishing they had not left them.

Nobody knew where the evening went to; for Hannah skilfully abstracted the babies at an early hour, nodding like two rosy poppies, and Mr. Laurence went home to rest. The others sat round the fire, 540 talking away, utterly regardless of the lapse of time, till Meg, whose maternal mind was impressed with a firm conviction that Daisy had tumbled out of bed, and Demi set his night-gown afire studying the structure of matches, made a move to go.

"We must have our sing, in the good old way, for we are all together again once more," said Jo, feeling that a good shout would be a safe and pleasant vent for the jubilant emotions of her soul.

They were not all there. But no one found the words thoughtless or untrue; for Beth still seemed among them, a peaceful presence, invisible, but dearer than ever, since death could not break the household league that love made indissoluble. The little chair stood in its old place; the tidy basket, with the bit of work she left unfinished when the needle grew "so heavy," was still on its accustomed shelf; the beloved instrument, seldom touched now, had not been moved; and above it Beth's face, serene and smiling, as in the early days, looked down upon them, seeming to say, "Be happy. I am here."

"Play something, Amy. Let them hear how much you have improved," said Laurie, with pardonable pride in his promising pupil.

But Amy whispered, with full eyes, as she twirled the faded stool,—

"Not to-night, dear. I can't show off to-night."

But she did show something better than brilliancy or skill; for she sung Beth's songs with a tender music in her voice which the best master could not have taught, and touched the listeners' hearts with a sweeter power than any other inspiration could have given her. The room was very still, when the clear voice failed suddenly at the last line of Beth's favorite hymn. It was hard to say,—

"Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal;"

and Amy leaned against her husband, who stood behind her, feeling that her welcome home was not quite perfect without Beth's kiss.

"Now, we must finish with Mignon's song; for Mr. Bhaer sings that," said Jo, before the pause grew painful. And Mr. Bhaer cleared his throat with a gratified "Hem!" as he stepped into the corner where Jo stood, saying,—

"You will sing with me? We go excellently well together."

A pleasing fiction, by the way; for Jo had no more idea of music 541 than a grasshopper. But she would have consented if he had proposed to sing a whole opera, and warbled away, blissfully regardless of time and tune. It didn't much matter; for Mr. Bhaer sang like a true German, heartily and well; and Jo soon subsided into a subdued hum, that she might listen to the mellow voice that seemed to sing for her alone.

"Know'st thou the land where the citron blooms,"

used to be the Professor's favorite line, for "das land" meant Germany to him; but now he seemed to dwell, with peculiar warmth and melody, upon the words,—

"There, oh there, might I with thee,

O my beloved, go!"

and one listener was so thrilled by the tender invitation that she longed to say she did know the land, and would joyfully depart thither whenever he liked.

The song was considered a great success, and the singer retired covered with laurels. But a few minutes afterward, he forgot his manners entirely, and stared at Amy putting on her bonnet; for she had been introduced simply as "my sister," and no one had called her by her new name since he came. He forgot himself still further when Laurie said, in his most gracious manner, at parting,—

"My wife and I are very glad to meet you, sir. Please remember that there is always a welcome waiting for you over the way."

542 Then the Professor thanked him so heartily, and looked so suddenly illuminated with satisfaction, that Laurie thought him the most delightfully demonstrative old fellow he ever met.

"I too shall go; but I shall gladly come again, if you will gif me leave, dear madame, for a little business in the city will keep me here some days."

He spoke to Mrs. March, but he looked at Jo; and the mother's voice gave as cordial an assent as did the daughter's eyes; for Mrs. March was not so blind to her children's interest as Mrs. Moffat supposed.

"I suspect that is a wise man," remarked Mr. March, with placid satisfaction, from the hearth-rug, after the last guest had gone.

"I know he is a good one," added Mrs. March, with decided approval, as she wound up the clock.

"I thought you'd like him," was all Jo said, as she slipped away to her bed.

She wondered what the business was that brought Mr. Bhaer to the city, and finally decided that he had been appointed to some great honor, somewhere, but had been too modest to mention the fact. If she had seen his face when, safe in his own room, he looked at the picture of a severe and rigid young lady, with a good deal of hair, who appeared to be gazing darkly into futurity, it might have thrown some light upon the subject, especially when he turned off the gas, and kissed the picture in the dark.

543