#goverment advertising

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Some posts were literally without pay, as sought in the Daily Advertiser on 7 July 1772:

A Widow lady about 40, of Family, Character and Education, would like to superintend a single Gentleman's family that is but small and who is a Man of Good Morals and not under the same Age. The lady expects to be treated as a Friend and Companion as no Salary is required unless the Gentleman has children and should like the Lady to act in the capacity of a Governess, being properly qualified to undertake the Care of Young Ladies; has no objection to Town or Country.

"Normal Women: 900 Years of Making History" - Philippa Gregory

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

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A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

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[aurumacadicus]

Alright my friends, it's time to choose the book for February! Our theme for the month: Romance! I'm not original. However, the bar for romance was skimming the floor and so we have a wide variety of titles to choose from! If you'd like to join the book club, send me a message and I'll send you the link to our Discord! The summaries for the titles are under the cut!

Jane Steele by Lyndsay Faye

Reader, I murdered him. A Gothic retelling of Jane Eyre. Like the heroine of the novel she adores, Jane Steele suffers cruelly at the hands of her aunt and schoolmaster. And like Jane Eyre, they call her wicked - but in her case, she fears the accusation is true. When she flees, she leaves behind the corpses of her tormentors. A fugitive navigating London's underbelly, Jane rights wrongs on behalf of the have-nots whilst avoiding the noose. Until an advertisement catches her eye. Her aunt has died and the new master at Highgate House, Mr Thornfield, seeks a governess. Anxious to know if she is Highgate's true heir, Jane takes the position and is soon caught up in the household's strange spell. When she falls in love with the mysterious Charles Thornfield, she faces a terrible dilemma: can she possess him - body, soul and secrets - and what if he discovers her murderous past?

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Simon Snow is the worst Chosen One who's ever been chosen. That's what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he's probably right. Half the time, Simon can't even make his wand work, and the other half, he starts something on fire. His mentor's avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there's a magic-eating monster running around, wearing Simon's face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here — it's their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon's infuriating nemesis didn't even bother to show up. Carry On - The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow is a ghost story, a love story and a mystery. It has just as much kissing and talking as you'd expect from a Rainbow Rowell story - but far, far more monsters.

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl's castle. To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there's far more to Howl—and herself—than first meets the eye.

Forget Me Not by Alyson Derrick

A romantic ode to the strength of love and the power of choosing each other, against odds and obstacles, again and again. What would you do if you forgot the love of your life ever even existed? Stevie and Nora had a love. A secret, epic, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. They also had a plan: to leave their small, ultra-conservative town and families behind after graduation and move to California, where they could finally stop hiding that love. But then Stevie has a terrible fall. And when she comes to, she can remember nothing of the last two years—not California, not coming to terms with her sexuality, not even Nora. Suddenly, Stevie finds herself in a life she doesn’t quite understand, one where she’s estranged from her parents, drifting away from her friends, lying about the hours she works, dating a boy she can’t remember crushing on, and headed towards a future that isn’t at all what her fifteen-year-old self would have envisioned. And Nora finds herself…forgotten. Can the two beat the odds a second time and find their way back together when “together” itself is just a lost memory?

Caught in a Bad Fauxmance by Elle Gonzalez Rose

A fresh, fun contemporary rom-com from debut author Elle Gonzalez Rose, about an aspiring artist who agrees to fake date one of his family’s longtime enemies in the hopes of gathering intel good enough to take down their rivals once and for all. Devin Baez is ready for a relaxing winter break at Lake Andreas. That is, until he runs into his obnoxious next-door neighbors the Seo-Cookes, undefeated champions of the lake’s annual Winter Games. In the hope of finally taking down these long-time rivals, the Baezes offer up their beloved cabin in a bet. Reckless? Definitely. So when annoyingly handsome Julian Seo-Cooke finds himself in need of a fake boyfriend, Devin sees an opportunity to get behind enemy lines and prove the family plays dirty. As long as Devin and Julian’s families are at war, there’s only room for loathing between them. Which is a problem because, for Devin, this faux game of love is feeling very real.

Eyes Like Stars by Lisa Mantchev

All her world's a stage. Bertie Shakespeare Smith is not an actress, yet she lives in a theater. She's not an orphan, but she has no parents. She knows every part, but she has no lines of her own. That is, until now. Enter Stage Right NATE. Dashing pirate. Will do anything to protect Bertie. COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED, and PEASEBLOSSOM. Four tiny and incredibly annoying fairies. BERTIE'S sidekicks. ARIEL. Seductive air spirit and Bertie's weakness. The symbol of impending doom. BERTIE. Our heroine. Welcome to the Théâtre Illuminata, where the actors of every play ever written can be found behind the curtain. They were born to play their parts, and are bound to the Théâtre by The Book, an ancient and magical tome of scripts. Bertie is not one of them, but they are her family, and she is about to lose them all and the only home she has ever known. Lisa Mantchev has written a debut novel that is dramatic, romantic, and witty, with an irresistible and irreverent cast of characters who are sure to enchant the audience. Open Curtain

[bethanydelleman]

Northanger Abbey Readthrough, Ch 1

Welcome to the Northanger Abbey Readthrough, October 2023! I will be posting one chapter per day, which will take us right to Halloween. This readthrough does contain spoilers, because I can't help myself.

We begin with the advertisement from the author, who is clearly annoyed that her first novel was purchased and then not published.

That any bookseller should think it worth-while to purchase what he did not think it worth-while to publish seems extraordinary.

While Jane Austen notes that books have changed, by which I assume she means the popularity of some of the novels referenced, I am pleased to inform you that Anthony Trollope mentioned Mrs. Radcliff and The Mysteries of Udolpho in his 1987 novel, Barchester Towers! Even the veil! So clearly the novels she was satirizing had not yet gone out of style.

On to the story! Catherine Morland is so very normal. The most normal girl ever. She also isn't an orphan, both her parents are living which the narrator points out is very hard for a heroine (lol). She doesn't really like lessons and she likes running around and rolling down hills.

She never could learn or understand anything before she was taught; and sometimes not even then, for she was often inattentive, and occasionally stupid.

Catherine's indifference to flowers will come up later, but this line is also funny in a forbidden fruit way:

Indeed she had no taste for a garden; and if she gathered flowers at all, it was chiefly for the pleasure of mischief—at least so it was conjectured from her always preferring those which she was forbidden to take.

This is a great description of an older sibling (I like to think this describes me as an older sister):

very kind to the little ones, with few interruptions of tyranny

And her family is so good and normal too! Her mom seems to have some good parenting practices:

She learnt a year, and could not bear it; and Mrs. Morland, who did not insist on her daughters being accomplished in spite of incapacity or distaste, allowed her to leave off.

The Morland family seems like a strong contrast to the Bennets, both of them employing no governess. We learn that the Morlands are actively invested in their children's education (unlike the Bennets):

Writing and accounts she was taught by her father; French by her mother: her proficiency in either was not remarkable, and she shirked her lessons in both whenever she could.

And even though the older girls are left to "shift for themselves", Mrs. Morland, who is both poorer and has double the children, can be more easily excused for some neglect. She sounds like a slave to the children's education, unlike Mrs. Bennet!

Catherine, a tomboy, begins to become interested in more feminine pursuits, but she does not transform into a great beauty or an accomplished young lady. Her achievements are similar to those of the ordinary person:

So far her improvement was sufficient—and in many other points she came on exceedingly well; for though she could not write sonnets, she brought herself to read them; and though there seemed no chance of her throwing a whole party into raptures by a prelude on the pianoforte, of her own composition, she could listen to other people’s performance with very little fatigue.

Catherine is just the most relatable heroine ever! She's adequate. She's reasonably intelligent, passingly pretty, a true Every Woman. And really, the whole novel is full of so many small human moments that hit just as hard as the more dramatic ones from other novels (Lucy telling Elinor Edward is engaged to her, Louisa falling from the Cobb, Lydia's elopement) because they are things that might happen to anyone. Really wanting to see your crush and instead having to hang out with someone you dislike; not knowing if someone is angry at you or not; and finding out your friend isn't a real friend... Northanger Abbey somehow explores the most ordinary things without making them boring.

Also, while Catherine may seem unintelligent, the girl must have read a lot of Shakespeare, the quotes in this chapter come from Twelfth Night, Measure for Measure, and Othello. I reluctantly read 5 Shakespearean plays in high school, so Catherine is at about par with my education (I like Shakespeare now! I learned to appreciate him in university when I saw a few of the plays in person).

Catherine is also such a happy, bubbly, character. I can really imagine her being "all happiness" when her parents consent to her trip to Bath. We are told Emma Woodhouse has a happy disposition, but we don't see her dancing in her chair all the way home after a fun evening. Catherine really has joy and she comes back quickly from disappointment. She's a really great character to go on a journey with.

I feel like it must be noted, Catherine has to get away from her family to have an adventure because she has good parents. Good parents are exactly what you want to have, but as the narrator points out, they hardly make a good heroine! So the narrator is forced to remove our nascent heroine from her loving home into the dubious care of the Allens (and really they aren't that bad) for her story to begin. This contrasts again with the Bennets, who manage to supply a good deal of the story's conflict all on their own!

[life-winners-liveblog]

That is a fantastic question my friend! What do I gain from this? Hmm.. I gain the excuse to mess with people! It’s also an excuse to be able to continue scamming— I mean selling potions without the witch government coming after me! I get to keep doing what I like and you get to be able to advertise your business everywhere!

(Ps: I just wanna cause chaos)

-Vilvy

Scar: I see! Then why don't we make a deal? To settle this of course! You help me with my buisness by advertising it and helping me with a little project and in return I protect and hide you from this "witch goverment" so you may continue and do what you want, I'll even trow in a bonus to sweeten the deal! I'll answer 1 question of yours no matter what it is! How does that sound? Do we have a deal?

[lesbianmarrow]

everyone’s like “oh stop advertising a book by saying it has lgbtq rep and start advertising it by summarizing the plot” which is a TERRIBLE idea bc what potential readers/consumers want to know is not the PLOT of the book, it is the VIBES of the book. like imagine i’m trying to get you to read jane eyre and i say “it’s a novel about a young woman who works as a governess for a wealthy man’s adoptive daughter and then comes into an inheritance of her own.” well that’s the plot but it doesn’t tell you what KIND of story it is. could be cheery and saccharine and upbeat, could be dismal and dreary and disturbing! this is why genre labels are useful. if i tell you a novel is gothic horror, you know what kind of vibes to expect from that. if i tell you it’s literary fiction with a feminist perspective, you have an idea of what you’ll be getting if you read that. and using genre labels to advertise a book is just the starting point. talk about plot elements, sure, but also bring up themes! the questions it asks you to consider! the feelings it evokes! VIBES! it’s all about VIBES!

[tellurian-in-aristasia]

Aristasian books & Literature on Archive.org

There is a wealth of information about Aristasia and proto-Aristasia available as books on archive.org! They easily pop up when you just search "Aristasia" but it may be a little bit confusing if you don't know what you're looking for, so hopefully this helps other pettes in their searches.

Artemis Magazine

Artemis #5

Artemis #6

Artemis was a wlw lesbian zine released in the mid 1980s by a group of women who were directly involved in the St. Bride's School onward. A number of them were released, but only volumes 5 & 6 are available on the internet currently. These are interesting because they frequently have articles written by known Aristasians, and you can really see the tiny little baby blossoms of Aristasia here, including articles about St. Bride's School.

Various Romantia Magazines

Realm of Romantia

Imperial Angel #1

Imperial Angel #2

The Romantic #1

The Romantic #2

The Romantic #3

The Romantic #4

The Romantic #5

There are a number of different Romantia zines released, I have skipped over The English Magazine in this list, simply because there isn't a ton of proto-Aristasian information in those, it's mostly just pit-crit and secession-from-the-modern-world type stuff. Warning on one of these for some just outright racist copy of antique advertisements, unfortunately I can never remember which one it is until I find it. However, these do have very strong early world building, including the formation of the districts and the idea of racinated thinking.

The Wildfire Club

Children of the Void

The Female Disciplinary Manual

The Rule of the Strap

When the Wind is Free

The Feminine Regime

Disciplined Ladies

The District Governess

The Corporal Punishment of Schoolgirls

House of Correction

Happy Tears

The Wildfire Club was their 1990's publishing imprint. These are largely erotica books, some of them are written by Miss Martindale (by several different names), others are story compilations, at least one is a reprint of a much older book. Children of the Void is the most iconic Aristasian book and has the most Aristasia worldbuilding in it, the rest are, let's be very honest here, mostly just kind of smut by volume.

[ssukidesu]

Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) [Chapter 2]

Summary: Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

(Read on AO3)

tag list: @heynikkiyousofine @xanthippe-writes

Chapter 2: Encounter

Kagome awoke with the sun, as her many years at school had trained her. Not knowing what sort of day lay in front of her, she dawned one of her nicer dresses and secured a brooch above her breast. She secured dark curls in a simple braided bun. She knew she would not meet the master today, but she would meet her pupil: a young boy named Shippo. Other than his name, she knew nothing about him. 

Kagome entered the hallway and tried not to look lost. Morning light crawled in through the windows, bathing the corridor in a soft blue hue. She tried to recall from which direction she had come the previous night, but after a few turns, the daylight bathed the furniture in unfamiliarity. She strained her young ears to hear any sounds of silverware or talking. Her feet were soft on the carpet runners as she managed to follow the distant voices of those whom she could only assume were servants.

She went down one set of steps. (Had she gone up steps last night? She couldn’t recall.) There below, two women were chattering about daily tasks. They turned and looked at Kagome, whose timid appearance cut their discussion short. 

One of the women—a young girl of about fourteen—smiled brightly. “Good morning! You must be Miss Higurashi, little Shippo’s new governess!”

“I am,” Kagome confirmed sweetly, grateful for the girl’s welcoming demeanor. “You can just call me Kagome, if you’d like. What’s your name?”

“I am Anne, and this is my mother, Harriet.”

Harriet, a spitting image of her daughter with two decades of age added, nodded her head in kind acknowledgment. “Are you looking for Lady Kaede this morning? I believe I saw her last in the dining room breakfasting.”

“Thank you very much,” Kagome grinned. She then brought a shy finger to scratch her temple. “Forgive me, but—where is the dining room?”

The two women giggled at her estrangement and gave her simple instructions. A moment later, Kagome was approaching the dining room, the sound of Lady Kaede’s voice permeating the air. 

Upon her entrance, Kagome was greeted instantly and told to grab a plate of food from the adjacent kitchen. She did so, grabbing two biscuits, some jam, and bacon. She listened patiently at the table as Kaede provided a mental blueprint of the house. There were three floors; most of the bedrooms were on the second floor, though there were a few on the third also (which otherwise contained storage rooms). The first floor contained the kitchen, the dining room, the drawing rooms (there were three), the library, and multiple offices of varying purposes.

“Is there a particular office in which I’m meant to work with Shippo?” asked Kagome.

“I was not given so specific of instructions by the master—all he’d told me was to advertise and hire a teacher for the boy. The largest office is where Lord Inuyasha works during the rare instances he is home, so that is likely the only place that you cannot use. The other offices are certainly available, as well as the library, if you prefer it.”

“Thank you. I will allow Shippo to pick which place of the three he prefers.”

Kaede surprised her by laughing. “Oh, my dear—there’s no need for that. You are a governess in a great house; you ought to grasp your rights in the position and settle wherever you see fit. Modesty is a virtue, but in a lonely place like this, such humility does not provide anyone else with a benefit they would notice or appreciate.”

Kagome blushed at the habituality with which she sought to avoid overbearance at all costs. “Thank you, lady Kaede.”

After Kagome finished her food and tea, Kaede rang the bell and asked for Shippo to be awakened and chaperoned to the dining room. About ten minutes later, a female servant walked in with a small boy close behind. 

Kagome’s eyes widened. The boy looked normal enough; he seemed about six years old. His pale skin was littered with freckles, and his red hair fell in shags over his forehead. But the boy’s ears, instead of sloping like a normal human’s, were tall and pointed, and—most alarming—a fluffy red fox tail waggled freely behind him. He was a demon—the very first one she’d ever seen.

His eyes were glued to her, and excitement was written all over his boyish features. “Hello! Are you going to be my teacher?” he asked, coming to stand squarely in front of her.

Kagome schooled her features and smiled back. “That’s right, Shippo. I am Miss Higurashi. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her right hand for a shake, but he only stared at it in confusion. Did he not know what such a greeting was? “You shake it,” she explained patiently. Relieved, he stuck out his little hand and grasped hers. She guided the movement, a short up and down, and then released his hand.

Lady Kaede spoke, “If you leave through the main door, you’ll pass by the offices and end at the library. Look at them all and decide where you would like to work.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Kagome turned to the boy and continued, “Let’s go, Shippo.”

He trailed behind her happily, and Kagome had to keep her mind from wandering to her feelings about his demonic blood. This information was not stated in the advertisement. For many, such a surprise would result in their immediate resignation. 

But how did she feel? Her school had taught her that demons were the most dangerous members of society; they were powerful and cruel, and often filthy immoralists. There was a reason why the previous two kings had fought so hard to take demons out of their positions as feudal lords. But, Kagome mused, some time had passed since then, and this particular demon was merely a child. A sweet child, too, from what she could tell. Glancing back at him, she saw him smiling up at her in unabashed glee. 

She could not find it in herself to fear or hate him; on the contrary, she felt affection bubbling up within her breast. Indeed, Kagome was grateful she was the one whom Kaede hired. The thought of a stranger in her stead responding to the boy with disgust and abandonment broke her heart for him.

Back to reality, Kagome poked her head into the two available offices as she passed them. They were much alike; a large desk stocked with paper and quills sat in the center affront a large window, and a couple small accent chairs rested elsewhere. She continued on to the library. 

It was seemingly one of the larger rooms in the house; the ceiling was a few feet higher, and the space grander. Oak bookshelves covered every inch of the walls and housed more books than she knew existed. The massive carpet contained a beautiful red pattern that she guessed was middle-eastern. The desk was smaller than those in the offices, but Kagome decided she did not mind. She didn’t see herself sitting at a desk, anyway; if anything, Shippo might use it more than her. 

The windows provided the only break from bookshelves, and their broad reach framed a breathtaking view of the property. A couple of trees that hovered closely to the house offered their branches for keen observation. Though they were half naked now that it was autumn, she knew that they could observe firsthand the budding leaves in spring. 

Kagome turned to Shippo with an excited grin of her own. “We will work in here most days,” she declared. “I would like to start working with you today, if you’ll have me.”

The boy nodded happily. “Yes, Miss Higurashi.”

“You may call me Kagome,” she said smiling. “We will begin with a small pre-examination, then. I need to know what you have already learned.”

And at this point on, the two were off to work. 

In the subsequent weeks, Kagome came to know her pupil well. He had very few skills; he could not read or write, and he had little knowledge of things beyond the events of his own life before and during his residence at Jidai-Ju. 

“Mother and father were killed soon after I was born, around fifteen years ago,” said he one morning while he practiced writing the alphabet with a clumsy quill. Kagome sat in a chair beside him, carefully watching his strokes for error.

This information should not have shocked Kagome; she had already learned that demons age much slower than humans. Though he was developmentally far younger than her, she was actually only three years his senior. She tried not to dwell on this and instead offered her condolences. “I’m sorry, Shippo. I understand how you feel. I am also an orphan.” 

He paused his penmanship to look up at her. His look was surprised, and deeply sad. “Really?”

“Yes. Both of my parents died of illness when I was very young.”

The boy’s eyes spilled over with tears, and he dropped his pen to cling to her in a sweet hug. “Where did you go after they died?” he asked.

She patted his head with a mournful smile. “I was raised by my aunt until I was ten, and then she sent me off to a school called Shikon. I gained my education and became a teacher there at sixteen. This is my first job out in the world.”

“I’m glad that you’re my teacher,” he said.

It was a simple compliment, but it was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her. 

Weeks passed slowly, and autumn’s end approached. Kagome had no complaints about her job—it was truly the most rewarding post she could ask for—but the companionship of a child could only satisfy so much. In truth, she felt lonely often. Lady Kaede ate meals with her every day, but she remained a relatively simple friend whose company hardly varied beyond logistical conversation. Kagome found herself staring longingly out of the windows and escaping frequently into books from the library. Shikon school did not carry fictional books; for this reason, her world was opened by the dozens of novels housed by the lovely shelves at Jidai-Ju. But her actual world felt like it was shrinking more every day.

With the isolation of the house came also a trepidation for what lay outside it. In the nights specifically, Kagome would sometimes hear distant—and sometimes not so distant—croons, caws, and creaks. She heard servants whisper in the mornings of bright lights they saw past the woods from their windows, and while Kagome had not witnessed any herself, she knew better than to write off their concerns as the idle chatter of servant girls.

It was about these stories, and her general melancholy, that Kagome was musing one night when Kaede interrupted her thoughts.

“Are you alright, my dear?” she asked after supper. Kagome had been staring mindlessly into the flames of the fireplace, the teacup in her hands growing cold.

She turned her head to meet the old woman’s concerned gaze and sighed. “Yes, I’m quite alright. Only…” she stopped, worried that revealing her feelings would hurt Kaede’s, as she had tried very hard to make Kagome feel welcome and comfortable. “It’s silly. I just feel the beginnings of some seasonal depression, is all. I miss being able to enjoy the sun.”

“I see,” said Lady Kaede. “I imagine it must be hard, being in a quiet place like this. When I was your age, it was far livelier. There were three masters all at home, and my own mother was here as my companion. Now, even I feel the isolation seeping into my heart. For a young woman, I can imagine it instills a feeling of slow doom.”

“I don’t wish to water any seeds of ungratefulness within me.”

“I know you don’t, child. And you are wise to protect your heart this way. But there is grace for such feelings.”

Kagome returned her sights to the flickering flames. “Thank you.”

Kaede’s look lingered. “Perhaps you could use some fresh air. They say it is balm to troubled minds. I’ve a letter to post—why don’t you take it? The weather is not unbearable now.”

Kagome did not particularly want to walk thirty minutes to town—there was likely only an hour of sunlight left, anyway. But she wanted to submit to Kaede’s advice out of respect for her concern—and any fear she had for those woods would be tempered by an uneventful experience walking through them. “I’ll take it,” she decided with a small smile.

With her coat and satchel, Kagome left the house and began her walk. The cold air stung her face, but she did find it refreshing. Patches of ice littered the road; her eyes surveyed the ground to ensure she did not slip. The sunset was cloudless.

When she was about ten minutes away, and the sun was behind the tree line, she began to pay closer attention to noises.

The birds had not yet retired for the night, and squirrels still rushed the ground for acorns. Every movement along the road was accented by the sound of ruffling leaves, as the trees had balded almost entirely.

After she had finally managed to calm her nerves, the sound of heavy steps—far heavier and more numerous than a person’s—reached her ears from around the road’s distant bend ahead and sent her heart rate wild once again. She slowed her steps as she waited for whatever approached to make itself visible beyond the trees. 

The steps became louder and louder, but the accompanying sound of a horse’s neighing brought ease to her mind. It was no monster, at least. When it finally revealed itself, she saw a black Clydesdale with a man riding upon it. He was traveling in the opposite direction as her, and when their paths intersected, Kagome lifted her head to investigate him. She held her breath. His own head was so downcast that the rim of his hat protected the upper half of his face, and the high collar of his black riding cloak hid all below his cheeks.

The rider did not spare her a backward glance after he passed, his mission supposedly dominant in his mind. But a few seconds after he disappeared behind, Kagome heard the scratching of hooves over ice, a violent curse, and a crash. 

She turned around to chase the commotion, and when she found him, he and his horse both were downed. The beast did not need her assistance to rise, its whinnies and snorts vigorous in its slow but successful rise. The rider, on the other hand, clutched his leg (cursing all the while) and stayed grounded. With his hat now gone, she could see from behind that he was a demon—his long silver hair and pointed ears, which sat on the top of his head, informed her as much.

She approached him carefully. “Sir? Are you alright?”

He craned his neck to see her and huffed (in relief or anger, she didn’t know) before pushing himself up to a waddled stance, facing her. Kagome stared transfixed at his golden irises, which proved the most vibrant thing about him. His skin was darker than what the winter would lead one to expect, and his overall appearance struck Kagome as harsh. Leaves clung to his coat, and his tophat stayed half-buried in the frozen dirt. In human terms, he appeared around thirty—but she had learned that with demons, appearances meant very little. “I’ll be fine enough,” was his gruff response. His voice was like the clashing of swords, or the crash of thunder. It was deep, and very sharp. She noted that his canine teeth were larger and longer than a normal man’s. What kind of demon was he? She mourned her own ignorance.

“Do you need any help?” Kagome asked. If she was being honest, she didn’t want him to say yes. His presence put her on edge; every moving muscle and glance was charged with energy, and she could not guess his next move. Kagome had never been this close to a young man—much less a full-grown demon. 

He seemed pained by her inquiry. “Do you have a cane, or an umbrella? I just need to reach my horse.”

“I don’t.”

He sighed, then seemed to consider her for the first time. “Where did you come from? Who are you? There aren’t many estates out this way.”

“My name is Kagome Higurashi. I work at Jidai-Ju.”

His head tilted so slightly she almost didn’t notice. “Do you know the master there? Inuyasha Taisho, I believe?”

“I’ve never met the man.”

“I see. And your position there—you are…?” He inspected her simple dress and bonnet, which led him to no clear conclusion.

“I am the governess there.”

“Ah—the governess!” he assented, agitation still lacing underneath.

Kagome felt the night’s chill wrack her frame, and she grew impatient. “Sir, forgive me, but is there anything I can do for you?”

“If you’ve no tool to assist me, you can do it yourself. Lend me your shoulder.”

She hesitated. What if he was dangerous? Could she trust an adult demon? All her education had told her no—they were nothing but trouble. 

But they’d said the same about her, hadn’t they?

He must have seen this conflict on her face, for he chuckled in annoyance, “Let me guess—afraid to approach a half-demon? Are you worried I’ll turn savage the moment you get too close?”

A half-demon? How could she have possibly known the difference between full and half, when he was the first one she’d ever seen? Her master apparently carried the same characteristic; how many half-demons were there in these lands? Gulping, she stated firmly, “My concerns do not regard what I know about you from your appearance, but rather what I can’t know from it—mainly, your character.”

His golden eyes widened initially at her words, then narrowed sternly. He grimaced, “You would be a fool to not fear a demon with whom you are alone. I saw the tremble of your steps and the fear in your eyes when you approached.” His expression changed, and he gained the look of a person who sought to tease angrily. (She’d seen the look on her cousin’s face many times; this bristled her even further.) “Admit it—you thought you’d stumbled upon a Gytrash when you first beheld me.”

“I confess nothing but having the anxiety any lady would have at meeting a stranger in the woods near dusk.”

He seemed unsatisfied, but he allowed the argument to end there. He grabbed his hat from the ground beside him.  “Well, then, the sooner you send me on my way, the sooner you can be free of this anxiety. Now, won’t you help me to my horse?”

Not wanting to delay the end of their encounter, Kagome approached him, each step revealing to her the immensity of his greater size. Her own stature proved smaller than average, and his height certainly exceeded that of any man she’d ever known (though she’d only known those who were beyond their prime). He held his right arm from his body—a place for her to wedge herself beneath—and waited expectantly for her arrival. She avoided his glowing eyes as she wrapped his heavy arm behind her neck. He smelled of the forest. He limped the whole way to his horse, his forsaken weight transferred to her as only a slight burden.

He grabbed the horse’s bridle the moment he was close enough, placed his good ankle in the stirrup, and hoisted himself up with a grunt.

Once settled, he prepared to leave. “Well, miss governess, thank you for your assistance. Be sure to get back home quickly. The forest is more alive than you know.”

She watched him ride away, and turning to retrace her lost ground, continued her own trek to town. Though the interaction was unique to her, she did not allow herself to dwell on the novelty. There was truly nothing to romanticize; his features were striking—bordering on ghastly, she guessed, according to the delicate sensibilities of the age; he was not ugly by her own terms, but he certainly did not fit the conventional definition of handsome. Even more notable was his brash attitude. Even if all this hadn’t been so, if he had been a handsome man of sweet composure, she was sure there was nothing interesting enough about her plain person to warrant his own lingering consideration.

About an hour hence, Kagome was walking up the paved steps of Jidai-Ju. The night had fully waxed; its pale, glowing iris cast a foggy whiteness over the thicket and stone architecture, but heaven and earth were otherwise shrouded in a ghostly vale of shadow. 

Kaede met her at the top of the steps, out of breath from her apparent rush to meet her there.

“Lady Kaede? What’s the matter?”

“It’s the master—“ she began, huffing. “Mr. Taisho has come home unannounced.”

Kagome was unsure how to process the unforeseen news. 

Before she could respond, the old woman continued: “His horse fell on the road, and he’s broken his ankle. A doctor is seeing him now.”

Kagome’s blood froze. “He fell only just now, on his way?”

“Indeed. Now come, I need help preparing the drawing room and his bedroom. If you so please.”

Kagome had only been in the drawing room a couple of times, but by the time they were finished preparing it, it looked like a different room altogether. The curtains were drawn, furniture polished, candles added and lit. Tea and wine were prepared and later out on a tray, though the apparent beneficiary was still absent. She did not end up entering his bedroom; that chore fell to some other. 

Kaede told her to fetch Shippo from his quarters. When she had returned with him in the drawing room, the leather chair had been moved to face the fireplace, and it was occupied. 

Mr. Taisho’s silver hair and triangular ears confirmed her suspicions. She had only just met her master, and already she decided she did not like him very much at all. How could he deceive her like that? Was he laughing at her? Mocking her?

She seethed inwardly but kept her expression neutral. Shippo seemed elated to see him; he was almost vibrating at her side.

The man spoke without turning, his voice an agitated growl. “What—will you just stand and stare at me? Take a seat, Miss Higurashi. You’ll be able to study me better in the firelight.”

Oh, he was infuriating . 

Clenching her teeth, Kagome obeyed with Shippo at her side. She sat down slowly, waiting for his striking face to point itself at her. He had a cigar in his fingers, every once in a while bringing it up to his lips for a puff. The smoke smelled like spice and pine, and she found that what she had smelled on Mr. Taisho while assisting him to his horse was the smell of this cigar. 

“So you did want to study me, then?” he inquired after a moment of her silence, finally meeting her stare. “Do you think me handsome?”

Her response was quick, too quick for reconsideration. “No. I’m only waiting to see for what purpose you’ve summoned me.”

His brows raised at this, and he turned his head in full attention. Kagome’s color rose at her blunder and his consequent focus. Should she correct herself? Would it even matter? Surely she was all but begging to be dismissed for insubordination.

Instead of addressing her insult, the master directed his attention to Shippo for the first time. He pulled a small bag from his pocket, uncinched its string, and handed it to the child. He seemed to know what it was on first glance. He squealed a thanks to him and took his prize to a small table behind them. Kagome watched him empty its contents onto a plate. It was candy.

Their eyes met again. Mr. Taisho tilted his head in judgment. “You seem less afraid of me now.”

“I was not afraid before,” she argued in a more collected tone, relieved at the absence of his anger.

“Oh? You would be wrong to assume I’m not dangerous.”

"No doubt. But—" she stopped herself, unsure. 

“But…?”

Her shoulders stiffened. “Dangerous as you may be, I don’t believe you’re evil.”

“And you perceive these things as different from one another?

“Of course. God Himself is dangerous, but He is not evil.”

His look was mysterious. The question lying beneath it was as palpable as the heat coming from the fire: What could a little girl like you know about evil? Changing the subject, he gripped something on the ground from beside his chair and pulled it up for her observation. It was her portfolio. 

She wanted to demand an explanation for how he acquired it, but a quick glance at a guilty-faced Kaede confirmed the only reasonable explanation there could have been. 

“Oh, leave the old woman alone. She meant no harm in boasting your apparent skills. You did indeed sketch all of these?” he asked, flipping open the folder.

Her eyes landed first on her latest piece, which was still only half colored. It was a picture of her parents’ shrine—or at least, a chimeric rendition of it from splintered memories and hazy dreams. 

The second piece he pulled was of a pond in the garden of her aunt’s estate. The dark colors of the water implied a depth incongruent with its width; as a child, her cousin threatened to toss her into the pond whenever she annoyed him, and her youthful imagination turned it into a place of magic and fearful mystique. 

The final piece he revealed was a clouded sky; the sun descended in the bottom left, and the night bled into the scene from the East. One cloud, however—which was curling an arm around sun—stood out as a dark contrast to the other still-bright clouds in that part of the page. It went against nature; it was swallowing the sun.

Chewing on her lip, she confirmed, “Yes.”

“They show a raw talent. But even more than this, they show… a mind haunted. Tell me, Miss Higurashi, what have you to be haunted by?” His voice mimicked tenderness, but the gleam in his eyes could only be described as hateful. 

Kagome did not reply; instead, she watched him with a discomforted frown.

He sighed and returned his eyes to the fire, anger waning. “Forgive me. I don’t know a thing about you. I’ve no right to ask such things.”

She remained quiet and watched Shippo eat his treats from a distance. 

He spoke again. “I meant it; these are very skilled.”

“Thank you.”

“This one in particular,” he began, pulling out the drawing of the shrine, “conjures images of myths and fables. This should be no surprise to me, fairy that you are.”

“Sir?” she questioned. One glance at his face told her that he was teasing.

“It was you, after all, who felled my horse and caused this,” he explained, gesturing to his raised foot. 

Though his offense was done in jest, her defense was not. “I did no such thing. Your horse slipped on the ice, and you know it.”

“Ice that should not have been there, as the temperature had not yet fallen enough to freeze.”

“I assure you that the cold has been consistent enough in this last week to prevent any ice from melting.”

“If you insist, Ka-Go-Me.”

His smirk brought a fierce and angry blush to her face. “Is there anything else you need from me tonight, sir?”

“No, that’s quite enough. In fact, what are you thinking in keeping Shippo up so late? It’s past his bedtime.”

He was unbelievable. She called to the child and started to leave. He offered her a “Goodnight” as she passed by, which she returned with less than half of his enthusiasm.

[skeletorsims]

ILSE FISCHER has gotten intermittent work as a governess since she emigrated. With the new children expected and growing in Alicel, the Laces but up an advertisement for a teacher. Taking her chance to move out of the city and live somewhere a little less full (that didn't make her break out in coughs whenever she left her house) Ilse has taken up the challenge. She knows it will take some time to prepare before she can beginning working, the children at the Laces are still babies and there is no schoolhouse built yet, but she is happy to read and take advantage of the natural clay in the area.

Ilse Fischer

POPULARITY/FORTUNE straight night owl/ sculpter/ unflirty/ bookworm LTW: become general neat, even-tempered

Ilse is Dee-Dee sim's Mary from Dream Daddy! I promise she isn't edited, just has an eye-mask on!

[eloquentgifs]

So tumblr is really going this time?

I honestly didnt expect to be this sad. This is the last place that still feels like old school internet, before everything became a huge advertising platform where the sites decide what you get to see and curating your experience is nearly impossible (unless you put time and energy in "training" the algorithm, which honestly wtf?)

I've been in the internet since, idk, early 00's? I had really good times in other sites that eventually I abandoned due to boredom or increasing tensions among its users (always in my heart, asshai.com forum). Some of those sites just closed. Some, like facebook, became unbearable. Last time I went there I scrolled like 30 posts before I found something posted by a friend and not a bussiness page. Instagram is following the same path. Twitter is a joke.

Tumblr is the only place I keep coming back since forever because, despite all of its flaws, it just feels nice. You have those mutuals you never really talked to but you keep reblogging each other's stuff. You have those few irl friends who told you about their blogs here like an obscure secret you cant ever mention at loud. You have the endless amount of super niche content, like those 10k essays about the smallest details in the last episode of Whatever Show you're into right now, those CRAZY good fanarts, the GIF SETS. Did you watched a really obscure movie from the 70's and you really loved it but no one in your circle has heard about? Some one here has a blog dedicated to it, and is full of gifs. And you will learn about other 10 movies related to it. And dont get me started with politics. Am I supossed to learn about conflicts, other countries' goverments bullshit and social injustice from official media? Or, even worse, twitter?? What about the memes? What about the weird episodic frenzies that only last a month? What about the fandoms that are still super active despite their show being over for ten years?

I've seen some people are already discussing alternatives and routes of migration but honestly, there is never going to be a (hell)site like this.

[seancodydotcom]

Okay so since tumblr the Hellsite (degoratory) has decided to hit the EU with its cursed bastard child called Tumblr Live, i've decided to read through the privacy policy

Live

Can reserve the right to conduct a criminal background check or any other checks they deem appropriate at any time by using available public records

Has perpetual, assignable, world-wide, royalty free, sub-licensable and non-exclusive license to use, distribute, reproduce, record, modify, adapt, process, combine, synchonise, create derivative works from, publish and publicly perform and display any Content (all data, text, software, music, sound, photographs, graphics, artwork, video, pictures, images, posts, broadcasts, messages or other materials of any kind, wether publicly posted or privately transmitted on Live) on Live and the Partner Apps

They (Live and Partner Apps) may also collect your precise geolocation data, language of your device, your first and last name, your (metadata) from photos and images, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, racial/ethnic origin, your biometric info, your GOVERMENT ISSUED IDENTIFICATION AND RELEVANT TAX INFO, YOUR IP ADRESS AND INFORMATION ABOUT THE DEVICE YOU'RE USING LIVE ON

They can also share this info to advertisers

For EEA residents (European Economic Area, UK included): they can only with consent share and otherwise process your location related data, sexual orientation, religious beliefs and racial/ethnic origin

As always, EEA residents, you have the right to let your data be erased/restricted.

[triviareads]

Trivia's Monthly Book Round-Up: March 2024

Definitely a better reading month this March! I had a lot of fun with the historicals as well as the contemporary romances I read this month (including some pretty out-there finds like Beg For It by Megan Hart which I ended up adoring. I also got to read some fabulous ARCs like The Mistress Experience by Scarlett Peckham and You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian (reviews to come).

Daddy Crush by Adriana Anders

Exactly what it says on the tin, just a really well-executed age-gap romance that's tender and sexy and has a daddy kink; Jerusha grew up in a rural conservative Christian environment and moves out because she never could quite fit in with her family. She develops a crush on her new neighbor Karl and ends up asking him for sex lessons. I love how unapologetic and joyful Jerusha is about exploring her desires after not being able to do so in the past, and Karl provides her with that safe space all while feeling juuuuuuust enough guilt about being an old lech (he really isn't) to provide further entertainment for me.

Also, I appreciate the realness of the way Adriana describes their bodies— the softness, stretch marks, dimples. It's one of those things I wish we saw more often in romance novels that weren't specifically advertised as having fat rep.

Beg for It by Megan Hart

A super hot femdom romance; Corinne and Reese were in a relationship for in their early twenties, but he eventually left her to move to the Big City. Now they're middle-aged and Reese is a successful businessman looking to take over the company Corinne is CFO of. I loved reading about how the D/s dynamic just clicked for them when they first met in a flashback scene. As with all great second chance romances, their mutual resentment upon reuniting is real ("I'm not your boy anymore!"), but they're also grown-ass adults who know how to handle themselves.... for the most part. You get the sense that while both of them technically moved on, they were never able to get what they wanted from later partners; Reese loves to serve Corinne and gets off on punishment just as much as she enjoys making a meticulous (mental) list of infractions and doling the punishment out. Also, I do appreciate a book where pegging isn't treated as a one-time *special* thing (or worse, a bonus scene).

The Duke's Perfect Wife by Jennifer Ashley

At long last I decided to retry Jennifer Ashley and I ended up adoring this book! After years of no contact, Eleanor approaches her ex-fiancé Hart to inform him someone is threatening to leak his nude photos. Hart is a gruff, growly SCOTTISH duke who's trying to become Prime Minister so.... this is inconvenient. For all of Hart's posturing, he never got over Eleanor and the man is Obsessed with her. There's so much I loved about this story— there's such a valid reason as to why Eleanor broke off her previous engagement with Hart and I feel like they both learned and grew from it in the following years. BUT that doesn't mean the chemistry isn't there— it was always there (as shown in the flashbacks) and it will always be there, and it's bonkers hot. Like, Eleanor hoards Hart's blackmail nudes in her Hart Scrapbook (I know) and when she's found out, she asks for more nudes (which are taken. in a veeeery hot scene that is very female gaze-y). Obviously he asks for hers in return, which he also takes, eventually.

Rules for a Proper Governess by Jennifer Ashley

@mermaidsirennikita had already put this one my radar, so when the hero Sinclair McBride aka The Scots Machine aka BASHER McBride was teased in The Duke's Perfect Wife in that specific way where you know he's a future hero because he made the current hero (Hart) jealous, I had to read about this hot blond widower barrister next. The heroine Bertie is a pickpocket who tries steal Sinclair's pocket watch but he catches her and she ends up stealing a kiss instead. Then she highkey stalks Sinclair because she's FASCINATED by him and accidentally ends up as his children's governess. In classic The Sound of Music style, she gives the kids an unorthodox but well-rounded education, and on the side she's adorably seething when a widow tries to put the moves on Sinclair. She and his son successfully cockblock him and what follows is the most EROTIC finger-sucking scene I've read like, this man fully shoves 3 of her fingers in his mouth and goes for it. It's so great. I'd absolutely recommend.

The Home Wrecker by Sara Cate

I'm gonna be real, I was not impressed by the last few books Sara Cate put out, but I actually ended up really enjoying this one. Kudos to Sara for actually writing cheating into the romance, and I also thought she handled sensitive subjects like Briar and Caleb's fertility struggles (and the decision they make by the end), Dean being a sex worker, and homophobia in conservative Christian families, quite well. And the emphasis she put on family (lost, found, estranged, having children) was actually really moving by the end.

And on a romance level, the cheating stuff worked— It was kinda great to read both Caleb and Briar being galvanized into acting once they've both been with Dean, especially when you see their their intense apathy towards one another earlier on with this super cringy sex scene. I also like how we were given three distinct personalities with distinct viewpoints in the three main characters; it's something I felt was missing with the throuple in Madame. Here is my full review.

Out of Office by A.H. Cunningham

This is suuuch a sensual, tropical romance split between Panama and Miami and it's out on April 23rd. Here's my review.

[bethanydelleman]

Governess is not a “fall back” Job

There is this thing I encounter a lot online, where someone points out that as a member of the gentry, a woman can’t just get a job, and someone else says, “She could be a governess.” I don’t think she can.

We see some examples of governesses across Regency and Victorian novels. Jane Fairfax in Jane Austen’s Emma, Cynthia Kirkpatrick in Elizabeth Gaskell’s Wives & Daughters, Agnes Grey, in Agnes Grey by Anne Brontë, and of course, Jane Eyre in Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë.

All of these girls are highly educated, most of them with the purpose of becoming a governess at some point. All of them, to the best of my memory, can play music and draw. Most speak French; Jane Fairfax can sing in Italian. They are “highly accomplished”.

Now let’s take a peek at Jane Austen’s heroines. Emma Woodhouse and Anne Elliot would meet those standards (and I’m not sure Emma can speak a second language). They also happen to be the most stable of heroines (Emma doesn’t even need to marry, Anne can just live with Lady Russell or Mary). Elinor and Marianne Dashwood also would probably qualify, and they might actually need to if something went wrong.

But Elizabeth Bennet, Catherine Morland, and Fanny Price? They are not at all qualified to be governesses. Which in Fanny’s case is actually super poor planning, since they don’t seem to know what exactly will be her lot in the future. Elizabeth kind of plays piano, not well, but cannot draw and doesn’t have the formal education people would be looking for: her manners are not of the fashionable world. Catherine and Fanny both cannot draw or play, though I believe both can actually speak French. 

If Fanny Price advertised herself for a governess, I think she’d fail. She’d certainly be beaten out by all the women actually trained for the job, like Jane Fairfax. She doesn’t have marketable skills! Which I think is the real point here. These women do not have options. They either marry someone rich enough to support them or they are a permanent dependant on their families. And especially for Fanny Price, there isn’t much family to fall back on either...

[understandableparadox]

Random self advertisments:

Did you know We literally only need like...One more dude to join this lil diddy

and we can start up the first annual Homestuck OC tumblr popularity tournament? thats right! we literally only need one more dude!!! that could be you dude!!!!

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Did you know I have a character ask? have you ever wondered random things about cherub biology? maybe even wanted to talk to a cherub yourself? well here's the blog for you!

www.tumblr.com/charubblogs

You can ask random shit from a multitude of charecters! like....

Kratamis: The red charub, avid lover of kaijus

Kratanor: The green charub, Avid lover of mechas and musicals

Abagail thomas: Federal agent for the united states goverment with a degree in biology, now in charge of the xeno-relations branch.

Frank: The guy the charubs held hostage for a few weeks in his own basement.

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[jobustad]

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