#please stop saying he's Val's victim did we watch the same show???
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magpieddd · 9 months ago
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"Vox deserves better than Valentino" He doesn't. He's as much of a piece of shit as him. Hope that helps.
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anagentinwriting · 4 years ago
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Lifeline - Part 8
Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader
Word Count: 3900+
Warnings: Language, car accident, angst, fluff, threats
Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist
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You were never the person that loved working out. You hated getting up early and going for a run, having believed that’s what most people did to stay in shape. You never really put much thought into it, but after training with Val, you gained a whole new respect for those who trained people for a living. She would take you through the process of warming up and getting your muscles ready, followed by the hard workout and a cool down. Val has really upped your confidence, too, and she isn’t afraid to push you to your limits and show you what you are capable of. 
“Girl, you’re killing it for only coming here for 2 weeks.”
“Thanks, that means a lot.”
“I remember the first week you came, it was rough, but it usually is for everyone.  Now, I think you could kick a few of my client's asses, who have been training with me for longer than you have. You’re a quick learner, and you listen to what I am saying and want to improve your skills.”
“That’s what I am paying you for,” you chuckled, getting a laugh out of Val.
“This is true,” she nodded. “Heard from a little birdie that you got Steve into bed not once but twice. How was he?” she winked, wiggling her eyebrows. 
“What? Who told you that?” 
“The guys were talking about it at work. Steve got all red in the face. It was cute.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint, but it’s not what you think. We were shopping for a bed, he found a good one, I ended up getting that one, and then I set it up at my place, and we tested it out again. There was no fonduing of any sort.”
“Okay, whatever you say.” She rolled her eyes. “But, if you are interested, Steve is a helluva good guy.”
“I know,” you smirked, staring at the ground and biting your lip.
“Now, if that look could talk.” Your eyes flashed to hers, spotting a knowing smirk on her face.
“I’m done talking about this.” You shake your head. “But, I’ll see you in a couple of days or sooner, depending if I want to take on the punching bag again.”
“We are always open,” she chuckled. You zipped up your bag, giving her a small hug before heading out. “Say hi to Steve for me, will you?” 
“You got it,” you shouted, rolling your eyes and walking out of the gym.
_______
“Have you talked to your girl lately?” Bucky asked Steve as they played pool at the station.
“First off, she is not my girl, but we have texted a few times.”
“Thought you would want to be more involved with her since you got her into bed twice last week,” Sam winked.
“Come on, guys, it's not like that.” Steve shook his head, fighting the smile on his face as he leaned against the pool cue.
“You're right, it's more than that,” Bucky smirked, lining up for a shot, but missed the pocket. 
“Says the one dating…”
“A woman,” Bucky finished for Steve, glaring at him.
“Wait, you’ve been dating someone?” Sam asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at him. “And this is the first I am hearing of this.”
“It’s only been for a little while.” Bucky shrugged, watching Steve hit his ball into the pocket. “She’s great; super quick-witted, a spitfire, and a badass.” Bucky smiled to himself, making Sam roll his eyes. 
“Happy for you man, I can't wait to meet her.”
“Really?” Bucky seemed taken aback.
“Yeah because then I can ask her why she is with you? Doesn't she know there are more options besides you in this world.”
“Yet, you still don't have a girlfriend with all the single women in LA.”
“I am waiting for the right one.”
“But, she'll never come”
Steve closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath when the station alarm started ringing. Everyone dropped what they were doing, suited up, and got into the truck to head to the scene.
“We have a car accident involving a Honda CRV off Topanga Canyon Boulevard. The call came in via the Hondalink after their car went off the road and slammed through a guard rail. With the heavy rain happening, it’s not surprising,” Carol stated into her headset before giving orders to the team.
On-site, Sam and Val got to work on helping the victim. She was still breathing but was unconscious. Bucky got the jaws of life and was able to get the door open as they pulled the young lady out and onto a stretcher. Val grabbed her purse from the car and followed behind Bucky and Sam as they carried her to the ambulance. 
Danvers stared at the old Chevrolet car, rubbing her lips together, trying to process something.
“You alright, Ace?” Steve asked.
“This isn’t the right vehicle. This isn’t the car that called in.”
“But this vehicle went over the guard rail on the same route as the dispatcher mentioned,” Bucky added, pointing at the car. “What are the odds two cars on the same route experienced the same accident?”
“Not likely, but the call came in via Hondalink from a Honda CRV. This car is too old to be equipped with such a system, and it’s the wrong make and model.” 
“What are you saying?”
“We have to split up and find the other car. I’m going to get in touch with dispatch and see if Hondalink has GPS coordinates for the CRV and get another ambulance here. Thor, go with Sam to the hospital and leave Val here in case we need a paramedic. Now let’s split up and search.”
Steve and Bucky started down the hill, taking each step with caution as the ground continued to get slippery from the pouring rain. Steve stumbled over a tree root but caught himself on a tree. He looked to his right, seeing a flowing river and something that shouldn't be there. 
“Buck-” Steve pointed at the river.
Bucky stopped behind him, looking out to where Steve was pointing. “How did the CRV end up…” Bucky started to say, but Steve was already stumbling down the hill, rushing to the bottom. At the edge of the wide river, Steve noticed how the whole back half of the vehicle was underwater, and if he didn’t look close enough, he would’ve missed it. The hood was visible as if it was caught on something and sitting at a slant, keeping the passenger and driver side windows afloat. 
Steve didn’t waste any time, tossing his jacket and boots alongside the riverbank, jumping in. “STEVE, WAIT,” Bucky called, reaching the bottom, fumbling for his radio. “Ace, we located the CRV in the river. We’re gonna need assistance, but Steve and I are heading out to the vehicle now.”
“We are on our way,” she replied. “Be safe.”
"GODAMMIT, STEVE, WAIT UP," Bucky shouted, noticing Steve halfway to the car already. “You and your damn impulse decisions.”
The current was stronger than Steve was expecting, but he wasn't sure how much longer the car would stay in place. "Hello, is anyone in there," Steve called, swimming up to the vehicle. He quickly assessed the situation and realized the car's front tires were braced against a rock bed. How the vehicle ended up like this; he still wasn’t sure. He looked around at the landscape, noticing a busted guardrail not far from them.
"HELP, WE’RE IN HERE," a male voice screamed.
Steve swam to the driver's side door to see a man with an unconscious teenage girl in the passenger seat, he could only assume she was the man’s daughter. There was still a big enough air pocket that they could breathe, but the water level was rising, and the current would continue to pull the car farther underwater.
"I'm Fireman Steve Rogers from the LAFD, and we’re gonna get you out of here. Are you hurt anywhere?'
"I'm fine, but I don't know about my daughter. Please help her first." 
Steve nodded as he swam over to the passenger side. He reached up to check her pulse and realized it was weak. "She’s breathing, must’ve got knocked out after crashing through the guard rail, right?"
“It all happened so fast. One second I could see the road, but then the next second, it was as if it disappeared, and we were sliding over the cliff and into the river.”
“It's okay, help is here, just stay calm for me,” Steve reassured, looking over the hood of the car to see Bucky approaching and he tilted his head to the driver's seat. 
"Hi, sir, I'm Fireman Bucky Barnes, what’s your name?”
“Adrian, and that’s my daughter Liz.”
“Okay, well, we are going to cut the seat belt from you…”
“What about my daughter?”
“Steve will do the same for her.” Bucky nodded at him. “We are gonna work together and try to get you both out at the same time.”
“Oh okay, but....” Adrian's voice drifted.
“Trust us, okay, I know it’s hard because we just met, but we’ll get you both out.” Bucky nodded his head a bunch, hoping to calm Adrian down. “We're gonna cut these seat belts and pull you both out to safety, okay?”
“Okay,” he said with tears peaking at the corner of her eyes. “Promise me, that you will get my daughter out.” 
“We promise,” Steve replied with a reassuring nod.
“And if I don’t get out of here, tell her and her mother, I loved them both.”
“You can tell them that when we get you both out of here.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.
Steve looked at Bucky, counting to three, and in unison, cut the seat belts. Steve was able to pull Liz to safety and keep her head above water. The car shifted slightly as Steve glanced to the driver’s seat to see Adrian still inside.
“I guess this is the part where I tell you my leg's pinned, and you tell me that you’re not gonna be able to get me out,” Adrian breathed, shaking his head. 
“Steve, get her to safety, and I’ll figure this out.”
“Don't do anything stupid until I get back,” Steve replied, swimming her to the shore where Val, Carol, and another paramedics team was waiting. 
“Her pulse is weak, but she's breathing. I don’t know if she sustained any other injuries, but she’s been unconscious since they hit the water.”
“Thanks. We got it from here,” the woman whose nameplate read Mantis answered while the big guy beside her nodded at him. They got her onto a stretcher, and Steve looked back out to see the CRV still afloat.
“Steve, you okay with getting back out there to help Barnes, or should I send Val.”
“No, I’m good, I’m good,” he breathed with his hands on his hips. “I got this,” He nodded, diving back into the water and swimming back out to the car. 
The rain started to come down harder, forcing him to squint his eyes, unable to see Bucky by the driver’s side door. He swam a little farther, and all of a sudden, the car was out of his view. “Crap.” Steve swam faster, yelling Bucky’s name, but no one responded. Once he got to the rock bed that held the car in place, he went under, but he couldn’t see anything under the water. He resurfaced for a deeper breath and dived back down. 
Swimming further down, he could see what looked like headlights on a car.  He swam closer to the front end to see Bucky working from inside the car to get Adrian’s leg free. Steve swam towards the driver's side when Adrain pushed himself out the window. He started swimming up, but Steve noticed how he wasn’t moving one of his legs. Bucky swam out the window, shooting Steve a knowing look before resurfacing. Adrian coughed, trying to stay afloat when Bucky grabbed him and started swimming towards shore. 
"You had to do something stupid, didn't you," Steve asked, swimming next to him.
“Can’t let you have all the fun,” he smirked, forcing Steve to shake his head.
________
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m at Gas and Grub on West Florence Avenue, and a man is robbing the store.”
“Sending a unit to your area now.” You switched over and signaled the closest officer nearby. “I need all available units at Gas and Grub near West Florence Avenue. There is a robbery in progress.” 
“10-4, 1578 in route to Gas and Grub,” an officer replied as you switched back to the caller.
“Units are on their way. Is everything okay? Are you safe?”
“Yes, I am hiding on the end of one of the aisles,” the voice replied. “The man is wearing a mask, holding a gun, and yelling at the cashier.  He’s asking for all the money in the register, some cigarettes, oh a bottle of Jack, too.”
“Okay, just stay where you are until help arrives.”
“I will,” he breathed. “Shit, the cops are coming in now. Damn…they were fast.” The caller hung up, and the line went dead.
“At least this one ended on a happy note...I think,” you sighed, stretching your hands over your head. You didn’t think you would be this sore today after working out, but you were wrong. Every movement you made sent a numb throbbing pain to that area. Val really did a number on you. You took a quick sip of your water and got resituated when another call came in. 
“911, what’s your emergency?” 
“My neighbor is listening to rap music, and I can’t hear myself think. It’s getting really annoying.”
“Have you tried going over and asking them to turn it down?”
“Well, no.”
“Why don’t you try that and then call the non-emergency line next time. No sense in calling 911 if it’s not a life or death situation.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll go talk to them.”
“Good luck,” you sighed, rolling your eyes and hanging up. “Fucking nuisance calls.”
“Hey, YN,” Bruce greeted, coming over to your station.“We have a caller on the line asking for you specifically. Are you available to take it?”
“Yeah, of course, put them through.” He nodded, typing on your computer, and you hit the spacebar. “Hi, this is 911 dispatcher YN, how can I help you today?”
“Hi, YN, it’s Nat.”
“Why are you calling through my 911 line and not my phone?” You nodded to Bruce, silently saying, you got it covered, and he walked away.
“It’s kind of a tricky situation, you see. Um…can you just come to 1917 Grand Boulevard when your shift is done, in like ten minutes? It’s important.”
“Is everything okay?
“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s not an emergency emergency, but more a friend asking a friend for help, and the only number I have memorized these days is 911, hence why I called you.”
“Yeah, I’ll head that way when my shift is done.”
“Thanks, the spare key is under the plant by the front door.”
________
You pulled up to the address Nat gave you, seeing a two-story modern chic house with black and wooden accents. You walked up to the front door, tilting one of the plants, and grabbed the key attached to the bottom. You opened the front door, and the first thought that came to you was a bachelor pad, but it wasn't sports memorabilia hanging on the walls, no. It was NASA and Star Wars memorabilia. Who the hell was Nat ‘hanging out’ with?
“I’m here, where are you?” You shouted through the empty house.
“Upstairs and the second door on the right,” she called back.
“Who’s house is this? It’s like a major nerd bachelor pad. Does this guy work for NASA or something? I never considered planets to be art, but then again...” your voice drifted off, looking at some more space art on the walls. 
You pushed the second door on the right open, and your eyes widened, seeing what was in front of you. One of Nat’s hands was handcuffed to one of Bucky’s, and it was wrapped around the headboard with no way of getting out. They were both still covering the goods, but Bucky’s shirt was off, and Nat was just in her bra and underwear. 
“So, I’m a nerd fanboy with a terrible taste in art?” Bucky inquired, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Nat said, glaring at you.
Your whole body started to shake, trying to keep from laughing and only nodding your head, but you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You bent over, hands on your knees and started laughing. “I thought… I thought you two hated each other,” you wheezed between breaths, pointing at them.
“Until she realized she wanted my…”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” she threatened, covering her hand over his mouth. “And if I remember right, you came onto me.”
He scoffed. “You wish.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you grab the key from my belt, right there?”
You shake your head, digging around in her police belt. “How long has this been going on?” You asked once you found the key.
“Not long, maybe a month or two,” Nat answered with a half shrug.
“A month, really? So, when you guys were yelling at each other at the bar, you were…”
“Call it foreplay,” Bucky winked, forcing Nat to smirk.
“Does Steve know?”
“Who do you think we tried calling first?” 
“Oh, so I’m second best.”
“We didn’t call Steve, YN. I don’t want his judgy eyes on me for this.”
“Yeah, we didn’t call him,” Bucky confirmed. “But, I texted him.”
“YOU WHAT,” Nat yelled, giving him a hard glare.
“He won’t care. He's my best friend; besides, he’s gotten me out of similar situations before.”
“That’s not helping your case right now,” she sighed, crossing her arm across her chest.
“Hey, Buck, is everything, alright?” Steve asked, walking in as his eyes grew wide. “When did--” he cleared his throat to keep from laughing “--when did this happen?”
“A month or so ago,” Bucky answered. 
“Nat is the woman you have been talking to me about for weeks.” Steve put his hands on his hips, shaking his head.  “Wow, I never would have guessed this.”
“You told him about us?”
“No, I just told him I was seeing this woman and how I might have a thing for her. It’s nothing.” Bucky shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, making Nat smirk at him.
“Alright, so let’s get this awkward situation over with and get you two unlocked then.” You walked over with the key in your hand, but Nat stopped you.
“Oh no! I didn’t say unlock us. I just want them in my reach. We aren't done yet.” Nat winked at Bucky, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. 
“Okay, I see how it is,” you smirked, setting the key on the table. “You two kids have fun now.” 
“Don’t speak a word of this to anyone, either of you.” Nat pointed at you and Steve with a harsh glare. 
“Scout’s honor,” Steve signaled with a soft laugh.
“No promises,” you smiled with a chuckle before walking out the door with Steve in tow. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs.
“I will say, I didn’t think I’d see the day those two got together,” Steve added, shaking his head as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Yeah, me either,” you shrugged. “Here I thought,  Nat hated him.”
“Same.” You two walked in silence to the front door. “Doing anything fun tonight?”
“No, I think I had enough excitement for one night,” you chuckled, locking the front door and putting the key back under the plant. “You?”
“Ah, no. Heading home to watch a movie with Cosmo.”
“Ahh cute, how is the doggy doing?”
“He’s getting better, not as skittish anymore, so that’s an improvement.”
“That’s awesome. Well, don’t let me keep you away from your date. Besides, I have a long-needed shower and a Netflix browsing session to get to.”
“Browsing session?”
“You know when you just scroll through everything and can’t find anything to watch, but you find some other things to watch that get added to the list, but nothing like I need to watch this now, kind of movie.”
“Haha, I have those nights sometimes. Happy browsing, YN.”
“Bye, Steve.” you waved, getting into your car. 
_________
After a long day at work and a much-needed shower, you sat down on your couch with a bowl full of popcorn and a glass of wine in hand and turned on Netflix. You clicked through your list a few times when your phone started ringing. Glancing at the screen, you didn’t recognize the number, but it was a California area code, so you figured it was someone from work. “Hello.” 
“Hey.” 
“Who is this?”
“YN, you know who this is.” Once he said your name, you recognized his voice. You could feel your heart start to race, sending the increasing rhythm to your ears. Your breathing grew heavy and shaky, and it did very little to calm your racing heart. 
“How--” you gulped “--how did you get this number?”
“Does it matter? When are you coming home?”
“I’m not….I’m not coming home.” Your hands started to trumble, feeling tears well up in your eyes.
“YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT. I DECIDE,” he shouted into your ear, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut, causing a few tears to slide down your cheeks.  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. I miss you, and so do all our friends here.” You shake your head, trying to steady your breathing. “They keep asking me where you are, and all I can tell them is that you went on a little vacation with Loki, and then they ask why I didn’t go with you,” he sighed. “You made me feel like an idiot because I wasn’t with you and didn’t know where you were. Do you know what that feels like?” You gulped, trying to find the words to say something, anything, but they never came. “I’m your husband, and I deserve to know when you’re coming back.”
“I told you, I’m not,” your voice cracked. 
“So, that’s how it’s gonna be. I do this for a living, remember YN, what makes you think I don’t already know where you are?” He went silent for a moment, adding to your frightened state. “When I do come for you, you better hope I am in a better fucking mood because, right now, I want to fucking kill you!”
You hung up, throwing your phone on the couch. The hair on your arms stood up, and your hands were shaking. You pulled your knees to your chest, crying. You felt so small and weak. It felt like all the progress you made up until this point didn’t matter because once you heard his voice, you were right back to where you started; stepping on eggshells, watching what you say, trying to be the perfect couple in everyone else’s eyes. 
Someone knocking on the door makes you jump and stare wide-eyed at the door. You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes, and slowly stood up. The knocking continued to get louder, sending a dull ringing in your ears. You went to the hall closet to grab the wooden baseball bat and went over to answer the door. This is when you wish the door had a peephole or that there were windows by the door, so you could see who it was, but there was nothing to see who was on the other side. You took a deep breath and opened the door with the bat ready to swing.
________
AN: Thanks for reading Part 8, and talk about a cliffhanger! Any ideas who may be behind the door? 🤔 And what about that little phone call from her ex right before? Coincidence or am I just messing with you all!? Hahaha! Also, I hope you all are enjoying the Sam and Bucky banter, literally can't wait to get more of it once their show starts! And, finally what did you think about the little predicament Nat was involved in?! 😂😂 Anyways, I hope you all are enjoying it so far, and likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome. Thanks again!
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ralfstrashcan · 6 years ago
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3x13 Reaction / Commentary
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Yeah I'm aware, stop judging X___X
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I feel the need to point this out. Apparently it's common practice for the Praetor to just, kill off their more troublesome charges. Interesting. But Jordan has a different work ethic which is a) apparently not usual for praetors and b) something at least Nick attributes to his past and not, idk, common decency. Just how savage is the Praetor exactly?? (Also let me add this to the list of things why 3x15 makes no sense at all.)
Okay, so they found another mundane dead by Heidi's hand...... why exactly don't they call the Shadowhunters? Aren't they obliged to? I mean?
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True, but it sure as hell is her responsibility how she handles them. But we established already that she has a serious perception problem and always sees herself as the victim.
I mean, prime example, if she could have made that smooth exit through the vent where the werewolves couldn't follow, why didn't she just do that from the start instead of attacking Nick? Because she wants to cause trouble and not just “live her life in peace” as she's pretending to.
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More like, he didn't have the guts to face Alec like that. Also does that mean he draped Izzy on the couch like that in that cliché sleeping pose with one hand under the head? At least he took off her boots like a sane person.
“I'm just drained.”
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Haha it seems Alec isn't the only Lightwood sibling with a shitty sense of humor.
“I don't have the same preexisting condition.” “You mean my addiction?”
No, Izzy, he obviously means your fashion sense, keep up. Seriously, who wrote that stupid ass line of dialogue.
I found it pretty hilarious that Simon, Clary's literally oldest and bestest friend since kindergarten, feels the need to apologize to Izzy for taking up so much time with his Clary-reunion and blocking the path for her. The Clizzy Energy is Strong.
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“Hmmmm hot hot hot Clary, please show me more.”
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MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY HAHAHAHA PERFECT
Also, Morningstar.... didn't Val name his dumbass tanker ship in S1/S2 Morningstar? Guy really has it with name repetitions, first Jonathan 1 and 2, now Morningstar Ship and Morningstar Sword... I bet he named all his stuffed teddys Mr Snuffels 1, Mr Snuffels 2, Mr Snuffels 3.....
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The way he delivers this line me might've as well said “Please cut out the emotional disgusting bullshit my skin is crawling already from this I can't take any more mushiness PLEASE GO AWAY.” Gotta love Alec.
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MAGNUS RAGE PUNCHING THE KEYBOARD IS THE MOST RELATABLE THING I HAVE EVER SEEN
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Magnus opening up about missing his magic MY HEART OH MY GOD
(Sidenote though: No wonder he got frustrated with the pretentious Shadowhunter Technology, I mean, look at it. There are only runes. Runes may be called runes, but they don't actually make up an alphabet. Why the heck is there a flexibility rune on the screen? It makes no sense.)
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This whole scene (and Izzy's lipstick lol) is absolutely perfect. I love everything about it, especially Magnus and especially Izzy. I'd be really surprised if Magnus didn't find a way to get her that weird root thingy anyway, because he surely doesn't buy the “feeling a lot better now” line.
(Edit: Now thinking about it I realized two things, a) she probably didn't take him up on his offer to go to another warlock because she felt like that was unnecessarily rubbing in that he can't do it himself anymore* and b) with that line she probably meant she feels lighter already for sharing what happened and just <3<3<3<3<3)
*The only think that would have made this scene more perfect is if Izzy hadn't skimmed over his magic comment without acknowledging it in any way. Though with this thought in mind, that she rejected his offer to spare his feelings, I find myself placated.
Also I love how Magnus pretends he's going to look for pen and paper when really he's running straight to Alec to tell him all about this (and to prevent a repetition of 2x09 form happening.... and now I made myself sad again).
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#effortless (Also reminds me of that post about fire message mechanics that I still owe a certain someone. Where is the time.)
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HAHAHAHA
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???????????? How do they know that? More importantly, does Alec know? Will he hear through the Shadow World grapevine??? So many questions.
I mean, I have sympathy for her. But like, she's too smart for me to buy that she genuinely can't see any other course of action. She just does this because it's the least effort for her, not because she's truly clueless what alternatives are there for here (aka not running around, killing mundanes, starting a fight with everyone). She just thrives on chaos.
Also “Wolves don't just attack without cause. Not in New York” ? Seems like all Institute except the NY one do a shit job since supposedly keeping peace between the Downworld factions is part of their responsibility. Yes, I am still salty about 3x15. (Also, if anyone's confused by this weird foreshadowing, I wrote notes for this reaction post while watching 3x13 when it first aired, but only got to finish it now after 3x19 aired and I can't keep my chronology-screwing bitterness to myself while finishing up the post. But mostly these are my thoughts from then.)
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Yeah something tells me she's not gonna be totally uninvolved in that.
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This and the fact that Russel wants to stop Bat from even leaving the Jade Wolf are the final proofs that all the werewolves actually live at the Jade Wolf and pile up in a giant snuggle pile in the kitchen at night. This is further cemented by the fact that Luke and Maia claim to have flats of their own but we never actually see them. Clearly they're both dirty liars that just wanted to mislead.
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*late Jocelyn's late friend Eliot #rude #whatever
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.......why the hell would Elias code that shit in Circle short hand? So other Circle members, who Jocelyn was hiding from, could easily open that super important safe? So smart! Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Luke in the Circle as well? Shouldn't he be able to read that, too?
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1) Eliot is such a loser and a showoff for ostentatiously writing that J in Jocelyn 2) His hint is seriously “Don't open with brute force.” Wtf kind of hint is that man are you even real.
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I'm sorry, okay, but everytime I see / hear Bellicosi I think Maxi-Cosi XD
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*glares at 3x15* Will I ever tire of raging about that episode? Unlikely.
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Why.....? Since he didn't have any problem 100% blaming Raphael for everything Heidi did (not unjustified, but I'm just saying he's suddenly changed his mind). I mean, if he'd said she's dangerous to him and his family that would've been another matter.
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These are all runes that I don't remember seeing on the Shadowhunters' Wiki Rune Page. Please tell me more.
Jace: “Clary, you've been going nonstop since you came back. You need to take a minute.”
lol if only Jace would implement the same advice himself.
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“Wow I suddeny remember I had a life before I was 10.”
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German Dubbing: Yeah, the ones Consul Penhallow categorically ignored. Honestly. Who dubbs this shit. Wtf.
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Listen I love everything about this scene. (Fun Fact: In the German Dubbing she says vampire addiction, not venom addiction lol as if she was addicted to vampires XD)
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Alec Lightwood, best brother of the year. Btw he's been holding that title since birth. I also don't think Alec would ever judge Izzy for her addiction / look at her as if she's weak, so the fact that she thinks that says a lot about how the addiction affected her self-image.
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Too bad Alec forgets this for the next few episodes and acts like a total tool in that Clave Investigation Thing, smh.
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Good to know.
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Haha that was witty.
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Oooooh why don't they ask another warlock then? For example one who's actually always the smartest person in the room?? Who's also willing to work on this??? Just a thought tho, don't let me interrupt the Maruke Bonding. No, you know what? I hate the shipname Maruke, it's shit, so I'm calling it Luryse as it should have been called. Then again, when am I even gonna talk about that pairing? We shall see.
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“Outrageous, just because people around me keep turning up dead! It's ridiculous, really, that they'd think I could have something to do with that. It's as if they're not aware this is a TV show and supporting characters die because *Moriarty Voice* THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!”
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“That what the kids call it these days when they get kicked out on their ass?” She literally says “From one exiled to another” so she clearly realized he's full of shit.
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“And that's why in two episodes Imma get myself arrested by behaving like a dumbass and then chill in prison as if it's my greatest accomplishment.” Honestly Luke, so many No-s. I can't even.
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“Wow I can't believe I have to see this Luryse bs up close.” Hah, now I used the right shipname and can move the f on from bashing that pairing. Sorry about that. I'm sleep deprived. That always makes me extra salty.
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“When you're alpha you need to make the pack your first priority. Your personal life needs to take a back seat. And mine never did.” I applaud Luke for admitting he was a shit alpha because he didn't proritize the pack. Hindsight is 20/20.
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Wow Luke so helpful <3<3<3 Just like I know and love you.
I also love how nobody questions that Heidi bit that mundane and then chilledly made a phone call at the scene of her Accords-violating crime. How frakking convenient.
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But their runes aren't on the same side. Sloppy work. Also, if the illustrator obviouly takes artistic liberties, then the rune missing on the second pic doesn't have to mean anything. Maybe they just forgot to draw it. Then again this isn't even the most flimsy conclusion-making I've wittnessed on this show so I'll let it slide.
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lol Jace and Jonathan are basically playing tug of war with Clary: Jonathan burning himself, Jace activating her healing rune XD
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Ooooh brainless S1 Clary, how I have not missed you. Srsly now? Carve it out? That didn't work for Simon so why should it now? lol she should ask the seelie queen if she has some handy floor mosaic thingy in her courtyard to help with that.
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In his defense, he moved.
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It's not gonna work is what it is. Srsly how dumb are they? Why the hell does she think something so powerful can just be carved out?? Wtf.
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Woooow they're using a rune removing device, color me impressed. I really thought they'd just put a scalpel to it. So, at least points for trying.
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Uuuuh get some morphin, try again. I mean. But anyway.
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*break up
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......didn't she just break up with him because pack reasons? Where is that not a Shadow World Reason? Please explain. (Also choosing an unflattering screen cap of Simon because he annoys me? Absolutely. I am petty like that.) The easy way Simon accepts their break up really makes me wonder. If Maia hadn't said anything, would he have broken up with her? Since apparently things “changed” and they could “both” “feel” it. Honestly. He literally calls her his girlfriend at the start of the scene as if to draw attention to how ridiculous this is.
You know what, I don't even have the energy to rage about this. Their relationship was so great, they were so supportive of each other, they had great chemistry, great communication, they always stood by each other. And just because Sizzy has to be endgame there were suddenly weird-ass tension between them for no real reason – none that 3A Saia wouldn't have worked through like pros anyway – just so this break up wouldn't come out of absolutely nowhere. It's shit treatment of both their characters and their relationship and I'm just so exasperated with it all. (Also not the way to endear me to Sizzy. But at this point I feel like a broken record.)
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Discount? It was free. Which I'm still finding super hard to believe by the way, that a werewolf establishment would just give out free food to vampires who don't even work there. But what do I know, right, I mean it's not like they just mentioned a few minutes ago how werewolves and vampires hate each other? Right?? Hahaha.
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Wow. This actually takes the time to highlight that this break up wasn't as amicable as Simon thought. Maybe he thought that they were breaking up for human reasons, but Maia clearly feels she threw her relationship away for the pack and it's hard for her. And Simon's tirade wasn't really encouraging her to let him know that. I really appreciate that detail.
Other things I want to say: 1) I didn't like that Maia just flat out broke up with him. She should have informed him that she was going to step up for the pack and would have to prioritize that over their relationship and then leave it up to him if he wants to put up with that or not. By breaking up she made the choice for him. Her course of action is ic, I'm not critizising that, but from like, a personal stand point I don't like it. 2) Foreshadowing: Since her whole pack gets slaughtered, if that would have been the only reason to break up with Simon she coulda just gotten back together with him lol. Haha sorry I'm trash. I know.
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Wow he's really dumb. He knows Heidi's brand of crazy and still he doesn't realize this was a trap. He said himself that Heidi must have done something for the Preator to be after her, and when the Praetor tells him she's been leaving copses left and right he...... takes this as his cue to ally himself with Heidi??? Wtf?????? Does he not believe what Jordan said? Again, he suspected something like that himself and since the Praetor are playing at being the Downworlder Police they wouldn't just make something like that up with no proof. The heck. I don't get you, Boss Vampire Guy.
Also, thumbs down for the Praetor, if they'd just told them their source was Heidi herself (on the phone) this could have been prevented. But, ugh. With how things are I can at least kinda buy that no working communication between vampire clan and Praetor exists.
Still, if the Praetor wants to be accepted as some kind of Shadow World Institution they should really work on their manners.
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.................................................
I I don-- I can't. *sigh* I can't believe I just had to watch this with my own two eyes. Have they not been trained for a case like this? A fellow shadowhunter injured in the field? That activating the healing rune should be the first thing you do? Before lovingly prying information from the dying person?? I mean, if that's not Plot Convenience then I don't know what is. Sure, he needs to give them a snippet of info, but not too much. But please, please, couldn't writers have found a way for this that didn't make them look like the stupidest of idiots in the entire frikkin world?! Wtf. WTF. I can't believe it.
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Uuuuuuh how did she know how to turn those things if all she had to work with was Don't use brute force?? Do I have to understand that?
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“You brought coffee, after all.”
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Look she's so ashamed she even turned away from the screen haha. Also it's so refreshing to see grown ass people approach a relationship like idiotic teens. (Yeah, that was sarcastic.)
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“And right now I wanna do you.” Hahahaha sorry, too good to pass up, you can bet your ass imma turn this into a dumb comic XD
“I love you, Clary. And I'll love you until I die. And if there's a life after this I'll love you then, too.”
Okay, I wanted to roll my eyes at their love confession, but what Jace said was actually really sweet <3
Alec: All our people were accounted for at the time of the murder. Izzy: We think it was a Clave hit.
Oh couldn't have been one of the millions of Shadowhunters from another Institute? No, I'm sure Alec checked that on their neat little Shadowhunter Intranet, that all other Shadowhunters all over the workd were accounted for as well. Honestly.
Also, Maryse says “By the angel,” but in the German Dubbing she says “What the angel” which makes it seem as if Shadowhunters curse by replacing dirty words with “angel” and just... what the angel XD
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Why the hell are they all so obsessed with Latin? Ugh. Exhausting hobby.
Btw lol, please rewatch that scene, the background music is weirdly reminiscent of the Stranger Things Theme hahahaha. (Also omg I'm peeking into the German dubbing and it doesn't even make SENSE hahaha what the shit.)
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LOL that's like the soulmate trope but in painful XD basically the creepy incest edition XD But honestly can we appreciate what a nice hand Jonathan has with a knife and with his left hand?? Prodigy.
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This is it, the final proof that they actually all live at the Jade Wolf hahahha.
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...................................? Why the f is she happy to see Jordan? Last time they saw each other she clearly stated she hated him?? Do I need to understand?? Oh right. In the books Maia and Jordan get back together. Right. Stupid, why am I even surprised by this??
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Wtf isn't he the clan leader? Why the hell is he acting so submissively to Heidi all of a sudden? Literally half a day ago he threw her out of his clan, knowing his place. And now he's like a puppet on her strings. Wtf. But I guess that happens when you treat characters as plot devices. They get inconsistent even if they only have two scenes. *sigh*
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Awwww would you look at that, werewolves and vampires fighting with fists like mundanes. (Okay some of them had like, daggers, but where are the fangs and the claws? Honestly.)
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Okay I did her injustice in my trailer reaction since this is a vamp and a legitimate fight situation.
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Wow that actually surprised me. But Jordan also dies in the books so, oops. Just didn't think they'd skip the getting together.
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WOW that really surprised me. I thought Maia would challenge him and they'd have an epic fight to the death or something. (Also wtf Griffin guy, what's with that creeper face.)
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To be honest I find it hard to believe that Maia acts like this. Scared out of her mind, yeah sure. But she acts helpless, and she's never been that. When she got that pipe thing I thought she'd use it as a stake. Using it to block the door is smart, too, but why didn't she get another to have a stake? Her whole posture, uselessly hangig over Jordan screams damsel in distress and I don't like it at all.
Edit: I had certain fears how this plotline would be developed in 3x14 which thankfully didn't come true, but my conflicted opinion on this ending scene remains.
Anyway let’s take a moment and appreciate Maia’s Killer Boots.
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BTW watched the 3x14 trailer and just.... what. Why the f would Magnus ask Lorenzo of all people for help? He can't be trusted. As if he wouldn't use that opportunity to break Magnus even further! WTF! Where's Catarina? Oh, let me guess, another Drunk Doctor Conference *epic eyeroll*
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tinylilemrys · 7 years ago
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MY DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
Read it on AO3
Summary:
Folk-musician, Merlin Emrys, feels like he’s slowly but surely getting his foot in the door in the music industry. He has a decent following on social media, a gig almost every other night and people have (mostly) stopped pouring beer into his guitar case as a tip. But when an old friend of Gwen’s offers him a slot as the warm-up act for one of his favourite musicians on a live music show watched worldwide, Merlin finds his career fast-tracked.
Now, navigating fake relationships, tabloid gossip, the paparazzi, corporate scandals and a rather unfortunate crush on Arthur Pendragon, the handsome owner of Excalibur Records, Merlin is learning that big dreams come at a huge price.
It was extremely difficult for Merlin to decide what he was meant to be feeling in that moment.
He supposed that part of him had always suspected that something was off with Mordred, but it had been pleasantly suppressed by mild hero-worship and even stronger attraction. Now every uneasy laugh, perplexing remark and sideways glance was thrown into sharp relief. Kara and Mordred. Kara and Mordred Jones. God, they had the same surname – how could it be possible that no one had drawn the connection before?
He disentangled himself from Mordred and took a step back.
“How is that even possible?”
“We were childhood sweethearts,” Mordred replied, raking an unsteady hand through his unwashed curls. “Please, Merlin, I’ll explain everything to you as soon as we get out of here.”
“Not a fuck, Mordred.” He let out a huff of humourless laughter. “I have the utmost sympathy for you. Believe me, I do. But you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not thrilled at the idea of going off somewhere with someone who has just admitted to living a lie for the past however many years.”
“Merlin…” Mordred frustratedly pleaded. When Merlin refused to budge, Mordred sighed. “Fine, come here.”
He grabbed Merlin’s elbow and directed him around the corner, where there were fewer people.
“Okay, if telling you the whole sordid story means that you’ll actually agree to come with me, here it goes. Kara and I got married in our last year of secondary. She’d found out that she was pregnant and her parents, who are the worst kind of religious nutters, insisted we get married to preserve her virtue or whatever. We were young. Really young. Too young. God, sixteen isn’t the age to be making any lasting life decisions, but we were in love and excited and stupid. It all felt like some brilliant adventure at the time. Then Kara lost the baby and her parents wanted us to get a divorce even though we’d never needed each other more. So we ran away to London, changed our surname from Owen to Jones and started a new life.”
Merlin’s heart constricted painfully. As the words kept tumbling out of Mordred’s mouth, Merlin wondered when he had last had someone to talk to about this.
“Kara had wanted to be a journalist for as long as I’d known her, so we both worked our arses off to put her through college, while at the same time trying to save enough so that she could go to uni. Kara always insisted that I use my free nights to find places to play my music and that’s how Agravaine found me. I was playing at this seedy little pub one night and he came up to me afterwards and asked me how much I was being paid for the gig. It wasn’t much. I mean, I was completely unknown at the time and – you’ll know – anything you get paid for your music when you’re first starting out seems too good to be true. Anyway, I told Agravaine and he immediately went to the pub owner and demanded he pay me more. The bloke was reluctant at first but Agravaine was relentless and I eventually got paid triple what we’d first agreed on. It was the most money I had seen in a long time and I was convinced then that Agravaine was some kind of godsend, so when he left his card and asked me to call him when I was ready to make a real career out of music, I immediately went home to discuss it with Kara.”
“And then you signed up with Agravaine?” asked Merlin with a grimace. Everything was beginning to make a twisted amount of sense.
“Not initially,” Mordred replied. “Kara and I had a meeting with him and told him that we couldn’t afford to risk everything when we were so close to finally having enough for Kara to study. Agravaine, slimy git that he is, told us not worry about all that and immediately began making arrangements. It was barely ten minutes later when he announced that Kara had a place at a really good school for the next academic year, all paid for, provided that we both sign contracts with him.
“And we signed them. Of course we signed them. We had spent our late teens as poor as church mice, trying to scrape together enough for some kind of future. This seemed like chance of a lifetime. We didn’t realise at the time that we’d effectively sold our souls. It didn’t matter as much then that part of my contract was that I couldn’t be seen in a relationship so that I was more marketable, because I was so thrilled to be making a real living from my music. And the knowledge that part of Kara’s contract was that Agravaine would have a say in whatever she published seemed completely harmless while she was studying and there were no major stakes. As long as we were discrete and careful about what we did, we had a new peace freedom that felt exciting and foreign. It was like suddenly remembering that we weren’t old. We still had so much life left.
“It was only when all the shit with Arthur happened that I realised something was off.”
Merlin didn’t respond to this. He waited with bated breath to hear Mordred’s side of the story that swam to the surface of his mind in moments of insecurity.
“We don’t have to talk about the Arthur stuff if you’d rather not,” said Mordred glancing over at Merlin. “I know things are probably still really raw for you.”
“Like they aren’t for you?” said Merlin. “Honestly, just tell me what happened, Mordred.”
“Well, there’s not actually that much to it, other than the fact that I think Agravaine was hoping to use me to publicly out him. I had stupidly mentioned at some point that I was bi and Agravaine latched on to the idea with a scary amount of enthusiasm. He initially encouraged and later demanded that I get close to Arthur – that I flirt with Arthur. I refused at first because the idea of cheating on Kara made me sick to my stomach, but he quickly threatened to tank her career just as it was finally starting to take off. So I did it. I flirted my arse off and Arthur was so desperately lonely and repressed that it didn’t take long for it to look like Agravaine was going to get what he wanted. We kissed a few times and went on one or two dates that might as well have been two blokes just hanging out for how careful Arthur was about them. I felt cheaper at that time than I ever had when Kara and I were earning barely enough to scrape by.
“It was just as I was working out that it was starting to become more than just messing around for Arthur – that he was starting to develop real feelings for me – that Agravaine pulled me from Excalibur and forced me to sign with Mercia. I realised then that I was just a puppet to be used for whatever shitty thing he needed me to do. From that point on, if he needed dirt on an artist or celebrity, he’d send me in and… well let’s just say Kara and I had an arrangement when it came to Agravaine ‘jobs’. They didn’t count, but they still hurt. In our sickening new routine, I’d flirt, kiss and sleep with whoever Agravaine’s victim was and pass Kara the information to publish in whatever celebrity rag offered the most for it.”
“Like with the car park incident with Valiant and Cenred? Was that Agravaine using you?”
“No,” said Mordred, scrubbing a hand down his pale and exhausted face. “Val and Ced work for Agravaine too, so I wasn’t needed there. But, for instance, with you…”
“Ah,” said Merlin, another few puzzle pieces slotting into place. “I was an Agravaine assignment.”
“Yeah,” said Mordred, his hand balling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. “When you and Arthur were still… well, Agravaine suspected that the relationship was bullshit so he initially wanted me to get you to ditch Arthur for me to confirm his suspicions. Once Arthur told him everything, it wasn’t necessary anymore. But then you guys had the breakup and Agravaine wanted to discredit your relationship with Arthur without outright saying that it was fake, so he got me a last minute ticket to the Mortal Labyrinth premiere with the mission to make sure we connected.”
“It worked,” said Merlin, resolving never to doubt Gwen ever again. That girl knew what was up.
“It did,” said Mordred, “And fuck, Merlin, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how involved you got with feelings but I promise you that I really didn’t want to hurt you. It’s what happens when you give any part of your life to Agravaine – he uses it to mercilessly control you. It was only after Ellie said that thing about risk being worth it if you love someone that I actually summoned the courage to find a plan for Kara and I to escape Agravaine. But Agravaine… he’s even more ruthless and powerful than we thought and now Kara…”
Mordred closed his eyes as if just the thought was causing him physical pain. He breathed deeply for a moment or two before opening his eyes to look at Merlin again. At any other time Merlin would have felt uncomfortable at this much eye-contact with another person, but Mordred’s eyes were hollow and hungry, as if desperately trying to grasp at whatever warmth and hope they could get and Merlin found that he couldn’t look away.
Eventually though, Mordred glanced down at his pocket to pull out his mobile.
“She tried to warn me,” he said, tapping open his photo album. His brow was deeply furrowed as he swiped to find the image he was looking for. Once it appeared that he had found it, he thrust the phone into Merlin’s hand. “That was her suicide note. I took a photo because they wouldn’t let me keep it. She left me a message, Merlin. She had a gun or god knows what pointed at her and she somehow still had the presence of mind to send me a message.”
Though slightly perturbed at the idea of being let in on the personal last words of a woman he had actively disliked (as much as he tried to reason that this was actually Agravaine’s fault), Merlin read the note.
my songbird
i hate to do this but it can’t go on anymore. there’s so much to say, but not enough time to say it. i’m so Very sorry for putting you through All of this. i only wish that i had more time now to assure you of how much i Love you And the immeasurable worth of what you have been for me through the cruelly Numbered years. oh how i wish i could steal a few more days, hours, moments to repay you, but something Dark and evil is pushing me towards the edge And i’ve run out of time to give.
always know, love, that i never wanted to leave you. i tried to stay as long as i could, but i have to Go. there’s no other way out.
also know, love, that i never Regretted Any of the Very short days i spent with you. even in the hard times when it All seemed impossible, you were what I woke up for each morning – all i ever Needed. my Everything.
oh my love, i need you To promise now to hold Onto the sweet, Kind, gentle heart of the man I fell in Love with. don’t Let this make you bitter and cold and don’t ever think that this is because you didn’t love me enough.
YOU were perfect, this world was not.
all my love until i see you again
kara
p.s. we’ll always have paris - x –
Merlin’s initial thought upon seeing the unusual punctuation was that the stress of her situation had screwed up her command of the English language, until he noticed that underneath the photocopy of her note, scrawled in hasty blue pen, was another note.
VAL AND AGRAVAINE TO KILL YOU
Merlin scanned through Kara’s words again, his eyes darting to each strangely capitalised word, and he was blown away at what she had somehow managed to do despite being faced with the imminent end of her life.
“She was a genius,” said Mordred softly, probably noticing the mixture of surprise and horror Merlin felt as it crept across his face. “A stupid, selfless genius who used her last moments to warn me instead of naming her killer.”
“Holy shit, Mordred,” said Merlin. “What now?”
“I’ve been working with Chief Inspector Katherine Annis. She’s on my side a hundred percent, but says she has to leave the case alone for now because she’s using it to sniff out officers who she believes are being paid to deliberately change the outcome of cases like this. That’s where I was hoping to take you now. She thinks that Aridean is going to try to pin Kara and Arthur on us, painting it like we worked together to… she just wants to make sure that you know what might happen.”
“When is she expecting us?”
“In the next fifteen minutes or so. If we leave now, we should make it on time.”
“Okay, I’m going to go with you,” said Merlin, “but first let me run in to let Arthur know. With all the shit going on, I don’t want to disappear and have him worry about me.” Mordred nodded and Merlin immediately began sprinting back towards the entrance of the hospital.
He almost tripped over his feet when, to his surprise, he saw Arthur striding gingerly towards him. His face was deeply etched with concern that eased slightly when he noticed Merlin. In his attempts to reach him, Arthur stumbled clumsily and almost fell over. Merlin immediately rushed to him and reached out a hand to help stabilise him. It wasn’t a moment later that he heard the first siren and somehow instinctively knew that it was for him.
“My love, they’re about to take me away,” said Merlin, taking a step closer to Arthur. “I know you’re not altogether here right now, but please try to understand and remember as much of this as possible. They’re going to say some things about me that aren’t true. They’re going to say that I killed Kara Jones and that I tried to kill you too. That I did it because I love Mordred. Don’t listen to a word of it, alright? I love you more than anything and I would never ever do anything to intentionally hurt you, you hear me?”
The sirens were so loud they were almost deafening. Merlin, unsure of what was about to happen to him, pulled Arthur into one last hug.
“I love you,” he repeated.
“What’s going on, Merlin?” his eyes were wide with concern and in that moment, it was hard to believe that Merlin was seven years younger than him. He looked so impossibly small and defeated.
“I love you, Arthur,” Merlin said again, as police officers began surrounding him.
“Merlin Emrys,” smirked DI Aredian, his voice a perfect mirror of the cold, steely cuffs now being snapped around his wrists, “you are under arrest for the murder of Kara Jones and the attempted murder of Arthur Pendragon. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
A few feet away from him, Mordred was also being served his police caution.
Merlin tried to keep his eyes fixed on his angry and confused Arthur, who at first tried to fight his way through the line of police officers in front of him to get to Merlin, but was now just watching on as Merlin was manhandled into the back of the nearest police car. As they drove off, a nurse was clutching Arthur’s arm, trying to tug him inside and away from the cameras, but he wouldn’t budge.
The last thing Merlin saw as they rounded the corner was Arthur, resolutely still and seemingly impervious to the chaos around him. He had no way of knowing, but every wish he had left went into hoping that Arthur wouldn’t lose faith in him. The small hope that Arthur would still love and trust him after all of this had been cleared up was the only thing that was going to get him through this.
That, and the certain knowledge that Agravaine was behind this and that someday soon he would be rotting in a prison cell, far out of the reach of anyone Merlin loved and cared about.
***
Merlin, like most musicians who had dreamed of making it big someday, imagined his life post-breakout in detail. He had imagined signing the record contract, hearing his first single on the radio, playing his first stadium gig to a sold-out audience.
Never in a million years did he imagine that his music career would lead to the cold Scotland Yard holding cell in which he now found himself.
As he lay on the bed, staring up at the bleak grey of the ceiling above him, he wondered how much of what was happening to him could have been avoided by just becoming the marketer he had studied to become. He wouldn’t be in this cell, for one. He would have never had to stare into the cold eyes of Kara Jones. He would never have been betrayed by Mordred. He would never have had to deal with Agravaine.
You also would have never met Arthur, said a familiar unhelpful voice in his head. And doesn’t he make all of this worth it?
Merlin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps and the sound of his bars being unlocked.
“Hands behind your back, please, Mr Emrys. You’re being taken to the interrogation room,” explained the kinder-looking of the two officers now entering his cell. The other began slipping another set of heavy cuffs around his wrists. Merlin briefly considered making a comment about how they should buy him a drink first, but thought better of it. If Agravaine had people on the inside, the last thing he wanted was to make things worse for himself.
The officers and Merlin made their way down one or two of the frigid passages, finally entering through an unassuming door halfway down one of them. After removing his cuffs, they sat Merlin in a chair on one side of the wooden table so that he was faced with his reflection in the two-way mirror on the opposite wall. The two days he had been locked up had not been kind to him. A five-o’-clock shadow dusted his face and his black eye was enhanced by the dark rings under his eyes from the stress of the last few days. Merlin felt anger bubble beneath the surface of his skin. This was unfair and sick. His boyfriend had been poisoned two days ago and had barely begun his recovery when Merlin had last seen him. No one had told him anything since he had arrived here, even though Katherine Annis supposedly knew that he was innocent, if Mordred was to be believed. What if Agravaine had got to Arthur? What if he was in danger right now? Merlin was completely powerless to protect him and the knowledge of it made every minute in these icy walls pure agony.
Merlin’s inner tirade was interrupted by another tirade right outside the door.
“… and as such it is my job to interrogate any and all suspects. I will not let you interfere and tamper with my case.”
The second voice was much calmer and more measured – dangerous even.
“You’re forgetting your place, Aredian. If you continue being insubordinate I will take you off this case faster than you can say ‘incompetence’. Now as your murder and attempted murder case has also turned into a likely kidnapping at the hand of one of your officers, I suggest you get to the important task of finding the victim. I will interrogate the suspects.”
There was the sound of furious strides down the hallway and then the door of the room was creaking open again.
He recognised her as soon as he saw her. Her red hair was pulled back into a severe bun that mirrored the rigid and restrained nature of her expression. Though Merlin noted that she was shorter than he had thought she was when watching her on the news, she was still clearly not someone to be trifled with. Despite this, her face softened as she settled on the chair on the other side of the table and her expression softened into the warmest look he had received since his arrest.
“Merlin Emrys, I’m DCI Katherine Annis,” she said, extending a hand for Merlin to shake which Merlin did. “Firstly, that red light on the wall means that this conversation is being listened to but not by any of Aredian’s people, so you don’t have to be afraid of what you say. Secondly, on behalf of the Met, I would like to apologise for what we’ve put you through these past few days.”
The horrible reality of her words to Aredian suddenly struck Merlin and he looked at her in terror.
“God, did you say that there’s been a kidnapping? Who? Not Arthur?”
Annis’ expression softened further into what looked like pity and Merlin’s worst fears were confirmed.
“He disappeared from the hospital yesterday,” she explained. “Security footage shows what appears to be one of our officers leading Arthur from his room in the early hours of the morning. Neither of them has been spotted since.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” yelled Merlin, feeling all the simmering anger of the past few days rise to the surface. “Aren’t you people supposed to be watching people who have recently almost been murdered? Or is that just the old-fashioned way the police operate?”
“Merlin, I understand that you’re upset, but I can –“
“UPSET? I’m fucking livid!” Merlin was standing now, kicking back his chair in anger. The officer standing against the wall took a step closer, but Annis raised a hand to stop him. “You knew someone wanted him dead – you knew that someone actively tried to kill him! How the fuck did you let this happen?”
“Merlin, I don’t know how much Mordred told you before you were arrested, but we are in the process of trying to uncover a number of officers that we believe are corrupt. For obvious reasons, we haven’t been able to brief everyone. It was my understanding that the officers I posted to protect Mr Pendragon were clean. I had personally mentored them. Please know that if I had had the slightest suspicion otherwise they wouldn’t have been placed anywhere near that room.”
“Yeah that’s great and all but that doesn’t change the fact that my boyfriend is missing or hurt or… or worse and it’s your incompetence that made it possible. God and when were you planning to tell me? After he showed up dead somewhere?”
Merlin’s breath was growing shallow and panicky. He needed air. He needed out – to find Arthur before something awful happened to him. He could just walk out. Why shouldn’t he? He wasn’t a suspect and Annis knew it. What possible repercussions could there be?
A moment after this thought crossed his mind, the door to the interrogation room was being opened again. Merlin was so relieved to see a friendly face, to see someone as confused and furious as he was that as soon as Mordred’s cuffs were unlocked, Merlin hugged him tightly, taking comfort in the warmth and understanding he found there and trying to radiate as much of it back as possible.
The tears were falling before he had time to think about stopping them.
Mordred put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and led them to the table. Annis said nothing but offered Merlin a packet of tissues from her pocket which he reluctantly took.
“Has there been a new development? Is that why we’re both here?” Mordred asked, his voice tired and worn. Merlin wondered if he had slept at all since he found out about Kara’s death.
“We have security footage of what appears to be an as of yet unidentified officer leading Arthur from his hospital room. Neither has been seen since then.”
Mordred looked as livid as Merlin felt, but instead of shouting his feelings as Merlin had, he simply folded his arms and waited for what Annis would say next.
“We have a team of analysts trying to identify the officer in the security footage which will give us a much clearer idea of what happened. In the meantime, our hope is that DI Aredian will lead us to wherever Arthur is being held. Mordred, the reason I called you here is that we need to find out what Kara knew. We have been from the bottom to the top of her flat and we can’t find anything that would drive Agravaine to have her killed.”
“We wanted out,” said Mordred. “We were planning to break our contracts with him.”
“Yes, I understand that,” Annis replied, “but what I don’t understand is why Agravaine would take the dangerous route of having Kara killed instead of just tanking your careers like he threatened to. He doesn’t strike me as the type to make life more difficult for himself than it needs to be. Then there’s his excuse for all those calls between him and Kara that day. I don’t think the story about the article is as made up as we once believed it was.”
“Are you saying that Kara was planning to publish something on Agravaine?” asked Merlin. “Why wouldn’t she just publish it then? Why call him up about it?”
“She must have been using it as a bargaining chip to guarantee that Agravaine would leave us alone,” said Mordred, now paler than he had been a moment ago, “and she buried it when she realised that Agravaine was far more likely to get rid of her than negotiate with her.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Annis agreed. She shuffled through the pages of the file in front of her, finally pulling out a copy of Kara’s suicide note – the one Mordred had showed him a photo of. This time, Merlin saw that the line “p.s. we’ll always have paris – x” was underlined and that “paris” was circled with two enormous question marks scrawled next to it. “This is the only line of Kara’s note that still doesn’t make sense to me. Based on the composition of the rest of her note, it seems too casual and superficial to not be intentional. With that in mind, can you please tell me what significance Paris played in your relationship?”
“I’ve told you – it’s where we went for our honeymoon,” Mordred replied as if the memory of it caused him physical pain to recall. “I don’t understand why she couldn’t have just been leaving me a reminder of what was probably the last time either of us was truly happy.”
Annis was quiet for a moment and spoke her next sentence as if measuring each word.
“Of course that’s what she was doing on one level, but your wife has proven that she was a masterful writer. Every word, every letter and punctuation mark in this letter is intentional and right now the only part of it we haven’t deciphered is this line. It may be the clue that leads us to her dirt on Agravaine, so I need you to really think – was there perhaps an inside joke or personal story the two of you shared that was linked to Paris?”
“None that immediately spring to mind,” said Mordred. “And it would be kind of pointless for her to leave a secret message about something I can’t remember, not so?”
“Very well,” said Annis, reaching down next to her for a box. “Here’s another idea. These are all items from her flat that have any connection to Paris or France. Is there anything in here that tells you anything?”
She handed Mordred a pair of latex gloves which he pulled on before gently removing the contents of the box one by one with trembling hands. There was nothing too thrilling amongst the seemingly random assortment of objects: a set of car keys with an Eiffel Tower key ring, a mug that bore the slogan ‘reste calme et parlons Français’ on a background of the French flag, a glittering snow globe containing a miniature Notre Dame and a men’s “Paris Je T’aime” t-shirt. So when Mordred removed the final item, a simple wooden jewellery box, and Merlin was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the sight, he couldn’t help but gasp.
“You recognise it?” said Annis, her brow furrowing in confusion as she handed Merlin a pair of gloves so that he could handle it.
“Not this one exactly,” said Merlin, noting that the design differed slightly. Where Kara’s box had the Eiffel Tower burnt onto the top of it, the one Merlin had known had had the Palace of Versailles instead. “My best friend had a box like this growing up. He got it when his mum passed away. We used to use it to hide all of our contraband. You know… like sweets and stuff.”
Annis raised a suspicious eyebrow and Merlin felt his ears grow hot under her gaze. It was probably best not to admit to his teenage drug use in front of the police. He hastily finished pulling on his gloves and took the box gently from Mordred.
“Anyway, if I’m right and this is the same kind of box, there’s a false bottom to it. I just need to…” Merlin opened the hinged lid and slid the front face of the box up to reveal the slot for the false bottom. He was right. Gently, he reached into the box and slid out the thin sheet of wood that formed the bottom, gasping at the sight of a flash drive padded with socks to keep it from rattling.
“Oh my god, that has to be it,” said Mordred, staring at it with wide eyes. “That has to be the Agravaine story.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Annis, standing up abruptly from the desk and addressing the officer standing against the wall. “Daira, please take all this back to the evidence room. I’m taking Mr Emrys and Mr Jones to my office.”
“Of course Ma’am,” Daira replied, immediately stepping over to the table and pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Follow me,” said Annis, leading them out of the interrogation room and down one or two indistinguishable corridors until they arrived at an office with the words ‘Detective Chief Inspector Katherine Annis’ emblazoned across the window. Annis hastily unlocked the office door and practically threw herself into her seat, plugging in the flash drive as she did. A few moments later, her eyes widened. “It’s all here. Oh my god, she was an absolute genius.”
She beckoned Mordred and Merlin to stand on her side of the computer and showed them what she was seeing. It was almost beyond belief. There were files upon files of evidence she had collected over the years – conversations that she had recorded both in person and over the phone (including the most recent ones between her and Agravaine on the day of her death), copies of her articles before and after Agravaine had distorted them into near fiction, folders full of incriminating photos and video footage and finally, a file entitled ‘My Deal with the Devil’ which Merlin realised must be the article that had led to her death.
“Open it,” said Mordred.
“Mordred, are you sure?” said Merlin, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Won’t it be distressing for you?”
“She wants it to be read so that’s what I’m going to do,” he said, setting his jaw.
“I want to read it too, so for the sake of time I’ll read it out loud,” said Annis, opening the file.
In the most laughably unfunny and ironic way, this story (which was supposed to be my ticket to freedom and a life that actually belongs to me), has turned out to be my death sentence. You have to know that, off the bat, when I first sat down to type these words, to tell this story, it was with the mindset that I would finally be able to escape and stop living this lie in which I’m trapped. And while it’s possible that the threats of murder and rape that have been set to me in the past few hours might not come to anything, if you are reading this now, you know now what this man is capable of.
Agravaine Du Bois is the devil and I am one of the fools who sold their soul for his lies.
I am not alone in this – just the first to actually have their soul demanded from them. Du Bois, unassuming as he seems at first glance, is a master manipulator with numerous flies trapped in his web of deceit, including the one person I love more than life itself. It is for his sake now that I lay out this demon’s many sins. It’s too late for me, I know that now, but I’m hoping that by some grace I don’t deserve, he won’t suffer the same fate.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
In the beginning, there was a young man and the young woman who fell in love with him. Some would argue that we were too young – even we concede as much on nights when we drink and bitterly mutter about how different things might have been. Back then I was the practical, repressed, self-righteous result of an upbringing that taught me that life was a set of rules and consequences for breaking them. How then could my head not be turned by the beautiful, poetic mind of Mordred Owen, who believed wholeheartedly that life was a set of experiences and that the only lasting consequence life had to offer was regret at not taking every chance at adventure that life handed him?
Kara then began her beautifully woven telling of Mordred’s story from a few mornings ago, and Merlin felt his mind about her change. They really had just been two scared and exhausted kids who wanted a chance at a better life. Everything that followed, all the bile and wretchedness, was all Agravaine’s doing.
Mordred and I suffered this new adventure gladly. Though our time together was limited and highly clandestine, we both took comfort in the fact that the other was doing what they had always dreamed of. Despite the unusual emptiness of my bed, I rested well each night in the knowledge that my husband was finally being recognised for the musical and lyrical genius he was and that our time apart was only for a season while Du Bois set Mordred’s name up in lights.
In my naivety, when signing the contract to give Du Bois final say in the articles I published, I had thought that he had meant it from a place of wanting to offer me additional inside information from the many whispers of the industry to which he was privy. And, to his credit, it started that way. When I wrote my first scathing article about Catrina West making waves for all the wrong reasons, Du Bois supplied me with a seemingly endless supply of evidence that she had lip-synched her way through every single one of her live performances, leading to her fall from grace and my ascent to a position as one of the most prolific celebrity journalists in the UK.
It only escalated from there. Lives have been ruined by the biting words typed at my hand and the further malicious twisting of the truth at Du Bois’. It became increasingly difficult to separate my work and hatred of it from my personality and before long I found myself using my spiteful words as an outlet for my anger and frustration. This, of course, doesn’t excuse the things I’ve written, I am still responsible for not stopping this madness earlier, but you have to understand that this is what Du Bois does. He twists everything so that you eventually forget that you are being coerced into being the villain and actually begin to feel like you are the villain.
My husband was going through the same thing. His forced available bachelor act was beginning to weigh on him and Du Bois’ insistence that he should flirt but never touch made things all the worse. We would steal an evening or two together where we could, but for the most part, we were both incredibly lonely and miserable. The initial glamour of our new lives had worn off and now all either of us wanted to do was go back to what we had known before.
Mordred was the first to crack. In a moment of pure bravery (or stupidity) he insisted that he had been ‘single’ long enough to market himself and it was about time he got to be with his wife again, even if he had to pretend that it was a brand new relationship. Du Bois’ reaction was a malevolent chuckle and condescending ‘we’ll see’. It later transpired that this meant that Agravaine had no intention of letting Mordred be with anyone if it didn’t suit his purposes. And this, in turn, meant that Du Bois fully intended to exploit Mordred’s sexuality.
Despite having to keep it quiet for most of his career, Mordred has never been shy about being bisexual, insisting that it’s just one of many aspects of what makes him who he is. Without Du Bois’ interference, it would never have occurred to him to keep it quiet. Du Bois had other ideas about what would be a deal breaker for his audience and being open about his sexuality was one of them. Besides, didn’t he think that the mystery was so much more fun than the truth? Wasn’t the ambiguity and implication more fun to talk about than the bare black-and-white facts?
This philosophy didn’t last long and Du Bois’ first foray into forcing Mordred into a relationship came with Arthur Pendragon. It was the first of many relationships, both sexual and non-sexual, that my husband had absolutely no say in.
This may seem a shock to those who understand Agravaine Du Bois to be the brother of the late Ygraine Du Bois and therefore Arthur’s seemingly doting uncle, but Du Bois’ relationship with Arthur is insidious to the point of emotionally abusive. To contextualise it, it must be understood that when Ygraine died Du Bois was fully under the impression that he would be inheriting Avalon Records, which at the time was a highly successful independent record label. Instead, Avalon Records was bequeathed to Arthur with Du Bois’ managing it until he came of age. Though the slow decline of the record label has often been attributed to its dated practices and refusal to remain relevant, Du Bois has admitted in so many words (clips available at www.karaknows.com/my-deal-with-the-devil) that he deliberately mismanaged the label so that Arthur’s inheritance would turn out to be far more curse than blessing. Indeed, by the time Arthur inherited it, it was nearly unsalvageable and despite managing to scrape a few more years out of it, Avalon Records closed its doors for good in summer 2009, shortly before Uther Pendragon’s untimely death.
Mordred was one of the first artists signed to Pendragon’s new venture, Excalibur Records, which he began in late 2007 to allow himself the freedom to sign fresh new acts that actually had a half-decent chance of being successful. It was a match made in music heaven. Mordred’s soulful folk was set to put Excalibur Records on the map, which was precisely the opposite of what Excalibur’s new PR Manager, Du Bois, wanted and his subsequent plan to derail it was brutally simple. He would organise a contract buyout with another label, but before that, cause a public relations nightmare that would take Excalibur down with it.
Du Bois had, what was in his mind, the perfect recipe for disaster. He had two handsome, lonely men (one touch-starved and contractually forbidden from being in a relationship and the other desperately repressed and unable to convincingly deny the rumours that he was gay) plus a set of small confined offices where they would see each other every day for hours at a time. All he needed to do was prod Mordred towards Arthur and the tentatively stacked dominos would collapse one after the other.
Merlin put an arm around Mordred as Annis read Kara’s account of Agravaine’s emotional and psychological abuse. It sounded like hell and Merlin realised how lucky he was to only have a black eye to show for their conflict.
That, and an injured and missing boyfriend who was almost murdered, jeered a chillingly malicious voice that sounded an awful lot like Agravaine’s. We mustn’t forget that.
Annis continued reading.
Apart from forced libel and near prostitution, I could go into detail on the extensive list of Du Bois heinous crimes here. There are many. There’s his rumoured embezzlement of Avalon’s Finances (which I would not be surprised to see replicated in the recent financial failings of the once booming Excalibur); his manipulation and coercion of Cenred King and Valiant Wright into carrying out his dirty work, throwing the lives of the band and those connected to them into turmoil; the skilful masterminding of Mordred’s first highly public and completely fake relationship with Merlin Emrys without Merlin being aware of it; for getting Sophia Timor pregnant, blaming it on Arthur and cruelly abandoning her when she stopped being of use to him. I could list the details, but there is simply no longer any time. For that, you will have to visit the aforementioned website and confront the overwhelming evidence for yourself.
There is no more time.
It is here, staring down the barrel of this metaphorical gun that I wish to personally apologise to anyone whom I might have hurt with my biting words and insensitive lack of discretion. Were it up to me alone, many of the things that are now known about you would have remained a tight-lipped secret and many of the rumours that were unfairly spread about you would never have seen the light of day. I take full responsibility for my actions and know that had I been a bit braver, your lives might be very different now. I know I have made a great many enemies and rightly so, but I hope you realise that with freedom over my talents, I would have put them to far better use. I would have been investigating a character like Du Bois as an objective third party. Instead, I am a part of his twisted truth.
Now as part of that truth, knowing that I will not survive the fall, I am dismantling my section of the web and praying the rest unravels with it.
My last words are for the one person to whom it physically pains me to have to say goodbye.
Mordred my love, if you managed to find this and are reading it now, know that I would never trade a single moment that was spent with you. I love you more than any words I put here could possibly express, even if I did have all the time in the world. You don’t feature in a single one of my regrets except that we didn’t get the eighty or so years together it felt like we should have been promised.
Even though I’m afraid, I’m alright now. I’m at peace knowing that even when I’m still, I won’t be silenced. I take solace in knowing that if I’m going down, I’m taking the son of a bitch who ruined your life with me.
Be brave and carry on for me. I know you don’t always see it, but you are a gift to this world. Go show every other practical, repressed, self-righteous little girl and boy that magic is real. That they can be anything they want to be. That they don’t have to settle for being successful, that they can be something far greater – they can be good.
And once I have paid my devil his debt, I too will finally be good.
A chill ran down Merlin’s spine as he opened his arms to envelope Mordred. Enormous silent sobs were racking his body and Merlin felt that if he didn’t hold him, Mordred would shake apart. Tears were stinging his own eyes and even Annis was pulling a tissue across hers.
Kara’s words had cut to the heart of the tragedy that this was. No one in this story had asked to be a part of it. They were the victims of a sociopath who cared nothing for anyone’s interests but his own.
“Right, I’m copying the contents of this drive to my computer and then you two are coming with me.”
“Where are we going?” asked Mordred in a hollow, distant voice. It was gut-wrenching and raw and Merlin felt almost physically ill at the grief of it.
“I think it’s about time Sophia Timor finally had the opportunity to tell the truth.”
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fandomlife-giver · 8 years ago
Text
His Maid, Merrymaking: 2/ Training: 1
Summary: It appears the so called 'Demon Hound' case has finally come to an end.  Then again...looks can be deceiving.
Pairings: Eventual Sebastian x Demon!reader
@wintersdoll​
Warnings: Violence, talk of death
Word Count: 2314
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The next morning after, you returned to the manor, but stopped at the sight of the three servants, sulking by the side of the house.
"This has gotta be the worst holiday ever." Bard complained with his head down.
"The worst, yes it is." Mey-Rin agreed.
"What's the matter?" You asked as you walked up to them. "You were so excited on the way here."
"Yeah, well, that was before..." Bard said.
"Don't look so gloomy." You said with a smile, before holding up a picnic basket and swimsuit. "We're on a holiday, it's a time meant for relaxing." Huge smiles broke out on their faces as they perked up.
. . .
"Yeeeaaahhh!!" "Aahh hahaha!" Bard and Finny cheered as they ran and jumped into the pond.
You smiled at them as you stood beside Ciel who sat on a chair, reading a book while Sebastian poured his tea.
"Don't you care to bathe with them, young master?" Sebastian asked, but Ciel only turned the page. "Oh, I see. Is that the problem? The master can't—"
"I don't see why they're making such a fuss about this little pond. Just because you can bathe doesn't make it a resort." Ciel interrupted.
"You still intend to make this place into a resort then?" You asked.
"Naturally." He replied.
"But what about this great demon hound?" You questioned.
Ciel slightly laughed. "Surely you know as well as I by now. This demon hound is no dog." You smiled. "Shall we discuss it further?" He asked while looking up at you from his book.
"Only if you wish to, sir." You replied.
He gestured for you both to come closer and you and Sebastian moved on either side of him. He leaned in and whispered his orders in both of your ears. "Now go."
You both smiled. "Yes, very well, master." You said as you stood up.
"You may consider it done." Sebastian said before you both started walking away, but stopped when Ciel spoke.
"You're very cooperative, Sebastian. Especially for someone who hates dogs."
Sebastian looked back at him. "Yes, I detest them. That's why I'd like to finish this as quickly as possible." He said before you both started to walk again.
"Yes, preferably, before it all goes to hell." You added.
. . .
After you and Sebastian had finished finding evidence for Ciel's theory, you both were heading back to the pond, but stopped at the sight of a gathering crowd.
You both looked at each other and followed after. Your eyes went wide at the sight of Ciel chained to the wall and the servants bound to a pillar.
"You're so pathetic. You rely on lowly tricks to retain your meager power. If there's a stubborn dog here, I'd say I'm looking at him." Ciel spat at Lord Henry.
"Is that your final choice? You can learn what happens to a dog that challenges me! Get him!" He ordered as a set of vicious dogs were released, but before they could get to Ciel, you and Sebastian jumped in front of him and kicked all the dogs away, making them fly and land hard on the ground.
"You cut that close." Ciel muttered.
"It won't happen again, trust me." You stated as you pulled down your gloves.
"You dare to interfere, dogs?" Barrymore questioned. "Well, what are you mangy mutts waiting for?! Kill all of them now!" He ordered as another set of dogs all looked at you and growled.
"Shameful. What coarse, noisy growls they have...One of the reasons I despise these creatures." Sebastian muttered as he stared at them with his eyes turning demonic.
They all whimpered and lied down before you, making the crowd gasp. "What the hell?! What did you do?!" Lord Henry questioned.
"Your pitiful farce ends here, Barrymore! Listen, there is no demon hound! It's all a lie! There's just him, an old man obsessed with power, determined to keep it no matter what!" Ciel yelled.
"What?! What evidence do you have?" Barrymore demanded.
"There's this." Sebastian said as he walked over to one of the dead dogs and took out it's skull. "We found it in your mansion. We took the liberty of confirming that the teeth marks on James matched the teeth in this skull." He held it up.
"Do you see it now?" Sebastian said as he pointed at the sky, which showed the same dog silhouette you saw last night. Everyone looked up at it. "The truth behind the demon hound. Its shadow is nothing but a projection. Just a transparent trick."
"The glowing is phosphorescent dust sprinkled on a normal dog." You stated as you took out a bottle and poured the dust out on the ground.
"The demon dog is merely an illusion, a story made up by an evil man. The man you let rule your village. This man, Henry Barrymore!" Ciel yelled.
"No! It's all nonsense! You can't fool them! Where's your evidence?" Barrymore questioned.
Ciel smirked as you walked over to the dog that belonged to the victim, that was now on the verge of death from being attacked.
You knelt down and petted the dog. "You can rest. Your duty is done. We'll take it from here."
It gave a small whimper as it’s eyes closed and you pulled a piece of fabric from it's mouth and stood up. "What fine material. I wonder why the dog was eager to hold on to it until the last moment. Interesting behavior, don't you think?" You turned and showed the fabric which matched Barrymore's pants.
He looked at you in shock. "Wh-What the hell?!"
"Yours. A scrap of cloth from your pants, torn off by James's dog when you attacked his master. You recognize it, yes?" You asked.
He glared at you and turned to run away, but was blocked by the mob of angry citizens.
"Give up, Barrymore! It's all over now!" Ciel yelled as one of the citizens pulled his pant leg up, revealing bite marks.
The people lifted him up and carried him away while chanting. "Punish James's killer! Punish James's killer!"
With Barrymore pleading. "No, please, stop!"
. . .
You untied the servants as Sebastian released Ciel from his chains. "My goodness, I'm glad that's over, yes I am!" Mey-Rin exclaimed as Finny knelt down to the dead victim's now dead dog.
"You were one amazing pup. A loyal dog defending his master to the very end..." He picked up it's body and held it close. "You were a good boy... Such a good boy..." He said as he began to cry into it.
"There you go. Yet another reason that I hate dogs." Sebastian muttered as you all stared at him.
. . .
Night had fallen as the skies were grey and the rain beat down upon the manor. "Yet another case closed, eh?" Ciel said as he gazed out the window of his room while you and Sebastian packed his clothes. "We can leave the village when the rain lets up."
"Indeed." You replied.
"Waaaaaahhh!" Your head shot up as a loud scream echoed throughout the manor.
"What was that?!" Ciel questioned, before you all took off running out of the room.
You all ran down to the dungeon and stopped at the sight of Barrymore, gone, a pile of blood and a hole in the brick wall.
"Where is Lord Barrymore?" Angela questioned as she ran up behind you. A sudden pounding on the front door made you all turn around and head to the front.
Angela opened the door, revealing a man who fell to the floor while heavily breathing. "The demon hound... The great hound is here." He said as he looked up.
"The hound?!" Everyone questioned.
. . .
After grabbing your coats, you all ran outside, back to where you first found Ciel and the servants. You stopped, seeing the crowd of villagers, all on the floor, chanting.
"What's happening?" Sebastian questioned.
♪ Lullaby, the sun sets, lullaby and good night ♪
"Snap out of it! What you all doin'?!" Bard yelled, but they ignored him and continued chanting.
A sudden flash of lightning came, it was enough to light up and reveal Lord Henry's body, leaning up against the wall, making the servants scream.
Ciel looked at you and Sebastian and you both walked through the crowd to the body. As you both knelt down, Sebastian lifted up his arm, showing his hand bitten off.
"Oh great demon hound!" "Please, please, oh, please!" "Demon hound, please forgive us!" They all pleaded as the rain beat down.
. . .
You, Ciel, Sebastian, and the servants stood in the drawing room of Barrymore's mansion. "Well, this is unfortunate, master. To think all this happening after the case was closed. I'm sure you're a bit... annoyed?" You looked down at Ciel with a smirk at where he sat.
"Are you quite finished?" Ciel said in annoyance.
"Where is Angela?" Sebastian asked.
"We left her resting up in her bed for now. She seems tired, yes she does." Mey-Rin answered.
"So painful to watch. Poor bird." Bard stated.
"This village isolated itself completely from the rest of society out of fear of the demon hound's curse...I thought for certain the hound was an illusion created by Lord Barrymore so he could firmly rule the village. But with him dead... I need to rethink things." Ciel put a finger to his lips.
"He was covered in bite wounds... Maybe the villagers are right. Maybe it really was the demon hound." Bard suggested.
"Maybe he's upset at being blamed for Lord Henry's misdeeds." Mey-Rin added.
"Yes, maybe. For now, there's only one thing we know: it wasn't human." You stated.
"The hound then." Bard said.
Ciel sighed and rubbed his head. "No matter, it's been a long night. I shall retire and think more of this in the morning." Ciel said as he stood and walked away with Sebastian following.
"Y/N, you come as well." He called.
"Yes, sir." You replied as you followed.
. . .
You stood behind Sebastian as he finished dressing Ciel for bed, with Ciel staring at you as he did.
You tilted your head. "Is something the matter?"
"It's about what you said earlier, how you phrased it. What you said was this wasn't human work. What if that bloody reaper has gotten himself involved in this?" Ciel questioned, referring to Grell.
You slightly laughed. "It seems you're learning faster every day. I'm so very proud of you, sir. But there is no need to worry. I believe Mey-Rin's thought was not wholly incorrect."
"The hound was after Lord Henry. I don't believe anyone else is in danger of becoming its victim." Sebastian finished as he stood up and put away Ciel's clothes.
"That's not enough information for me to close the case." Ciel said.
"Ah, such loyalty to your Queen. Quite touching, really." He said while putting his clothes in the closet.
"That's not it. At least not all of it. You're usually so calm and steady Sebastian, but this case seems to have you rattled. I'm interested about this issue you have with the dogs." Ciel said with a smirk as Sebastian looked back at him.
You chuckled. "As I said, you learn faster every day."
. . .
You opened the doors to the dining room and walked to stand by Sebastian, who was pouring tea for Ciel with Bard and Tanaka watching. "For today's tea we have a cabinet pudding. It was made using local blackberries." You announced as you placed it beside Ciel.
Ciel looked at Sebastian who was smiling. "You're certainly relaxed."
"Because we're in no hurry, sir." Sebastian replied, right before the doors opened with Mey-Rin and Finny running in.
"Sebastian, Y/N, hurry!" Mey-Rin yelled.
"What's the matter this time? Do calm down, please." You said.
"We've looked all over, but we can't find Angela!" Finny shouted.
"Oh, is that all? Yeah, don't worry about it. She said there were some medicinal herbs growing by the fen. She went there to pick some up, that's all." Bard informed.
"Right now? Why would she?" Finny asked.
"She went all alone when there might be a demon hound out there?" Mey-Rin questioned.
Bard thought in realization. "Oh, hell..."
"What was she thinking going out all by herself?" Finny pondered.
"She said she was worried, you know, about you being kind of sick and all." Bard said.
"For me? She went for me?" Finny questioned in disbelief, before running out of the room.
"C'mon, Sebastian! Let's go help him!" Bard said as he ran over.
"Well, er..." Sebastian drifted off.
"Hurry! Are you a red-blooded man or aren't you!" Bard yelled, making you crack a smile.
"Fine, then. Let's go, Mey-Rin."
"Sir, yes, sir!" She saluted.
"Where's Tanaka?" He asked, before turning.
"Ho ho ho ho..." Tanaka laughed, now dressed in a hunter's uniform.
"That's the spirit! Okay, let's move out, men!" Bard yelled.
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Ho ho ho ho..."
They ran to the door, before Bard stopped and looked back at you. "Come on, Y/N!"
You looked at them and sighed. "Perhaps I should keep an eye on them, sir." You said as you looked at Ciel. He nodded and waved you off. You bowed, before walking after the servants, who were already gone.
Ciel took a bite of his cake and wiped his mouth, before looking at Sebastian. "You know, I'm quite interested. What color is your blood?"
He only stared at him.
"At any rate, it looks as if we do need to hurry now." Ciel said.
Sebastian sighed. "Go out there and put on a good show for me. Am I clear?"
Sebastian looked down at him. "Perfectly, my young lord."
48 notes · View notes
ulyssesredux · 7 years ago
Text
Nausicaa
Homerule sun setting in the odour of sanctity. I gave her money. So it seems, my dear, I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. —It's fireworks, Cissy! He hasn't made up his finger as if he was not without an independence to fall back upon. No, Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. But, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she said to any one remembering the fact might think it a lighted candle as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it.
Exhausted that female has me. She had to consider Fred Vincy's future, Mr. Bulstrode, with bland neutrality. She rose.
My native land, stock, and had died childless years ago, so still, and Mr. Wrench's mistake in order to satisfy him. Howth. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her embroidery longer than usual, now she's your step-daughter. That is your uncle pleased with him, confound his whole life and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to himself that, if you will get nothing from me. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was no-one could wish to be something great, they say. She is grace itself; she is. Ticking. Mrs. Yes, it is not back. Grab at all? Queen of angels, queen of the event to Joshua Rigg's sale of his gleeful eyes, which had not had such a pity too leaving them there to that favourite nook to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Featherstone, and lay not only divined Fred's longing, but he could see the gentleman couldn't see and he could be trusted to the very best thing in art and literature as a medium for paying addresses—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young man who had kindly made her shy and often she wondered why you returned from America? Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. Vincy, who had once lived blamelessly afar from the imagined burning; and if her statements were no direct clew to fact, when Fred comes down I wish you would never understand what he said to himself—it was a cheering dispensation conveying perhaps a sanction to a more solid kind of existence, the eyebrowleine, her mouth in the Erin's King, throwing them the sack of old papers. By Jove, Nick: I know the ground of his distinguishedlooking figure. Why have women such eyes of witchery? But it's the only man in all those superstitions because when she asked you would engage to keep at a distance, but clear, no the Monday before Easter and there was a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her costume which had determined on his move, and I will forward you the money with you at home with you. She rose. No. Animals go by that.
Very strange about my watch stopped at half-past seven the next morning. Ow! Mailboat. Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads. Few days passed without his cap on that place where she was just going to go and throw her hat to put in the dark, lowing out like seacows. His eyes burned into her as she caught her knee where no-one knew of. And just when he had merely mentioned to her full height. Fill it up. I was? Is it only half fun? Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. She had red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next year in drawers return next in her hands so as not to trust to its remembered morning: his empoisoned system at this time his arrangements had most of them. Still you learn something. Three and nine. Hence he made no reply. —That you could hang your hat on. Better now of course their little tiffs from time to spare, Mr. Vincy had descended a little jessamine mixed. Potted herrings gone stale or. The banker's drive of ten years; it didn't suit me.
Then they trot you out riding? Shame all put on and he put in the neighborhood, on the ground of future uncertainties. Eggs, no-one could wish to stay. Imagine that in your? Crooked as a telltale flush, delicate as the matter of private occupation or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to take your degree. With all the strength of his life would not probably have disbelieved in its transient loveliness, which belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the earth's orbit and the tribute of complete deference: and his poor mother's gone now. And Edy Boardman with the fact might think that Mrs. You will say anything, like many a man to see an old flame he was looking at, transparent, and who that knows the fluttering hopes and fears of sweet seventeen though Gerty would never understand what he had property, to little baby then less he was too slight, and made a change for her sake. Grace darling she him half past the bed. Not tetchy, mamma—I wish you expressed to go but they arose from reflecting that this dispensation too might be a chastisement, a prey to the very best thing in footwear Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an intensity disproportionate to the warehouse, and had kept a piece of steel iron. Give it to be ready at half-opened blush-rose, and now going up over the sea. Not so bad then. Edy Boardman with the best of that other in spite of the most capricious orders of gentlemen. That's the secret of it. Never find out. Oh, my dear, and he couldn't even go to college again to take them in hand. A dream of yester eve. Mailboat. He would not have seemed poetical. And I'm not so silkily seductive. O so lovely, O. But the morning she nearly slipped up the strand. Ye crags and peaks I'm with you there, race back to see all the while.
I want. Might be the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. How rash you are so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her and then they parted. O, soft, sweet, soft, sweet, soft, sweet, soft! And sugars now. Gerty was adamant. Sure he has opinions. But I shall turn round on you and me there was a forward piece whenever she thought he might come to town. Howth. Mirage. His gun rusty from the land of Ireland did not in the sand with their hateful kindred of sensations—as if, after a moment's pause, you don't see her other things too, my dear, you shall know, had determined to wait till he was making to Stone Court, Mr. Lydgate thought the world in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a deposit of uneasy presentiment in his new tan shoes. What though?
Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and when he changed his mind; and he turned the bicycle at the door of Dignam's. Very strange about my watch stopped at half past the bed. Her hands were just like a barometer towards the cheerless side of the south. Here. He was looking all the knowledge necessary to gratify it.
The twins were now playing in the least suppose that he never had a clinging impression that something would happen to want something awfully, then? Gibraltar. Venus? Has to change when her things came home from the civic mind, I dined at Plymdale's. No, Gerty, Cissy Caffrey said. For the pain, was the case. Like every one had expected; having often, in which we have discussed together? If she saw a long long kiss. Like a little dilatory. His chief intention was to Lydgate than the Widow Welch's female pills and she knew by the hand. And says she and that baby was to go away—and I'll go away—virtually at his back, and didn't find you there, and which had a full length oilpainting of her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell. Her maiden name was Tertius, said Rosamond, feeling sure that I suppose. His hands and higharched instep. Have to let fly. Your stepson, if you like fine old place to the hospital to see an old flame he was quite ready made. Wonder where he was sure of being much alone. Mr Bloom watched her as if they were told to be women priests that would well up so intently, so still, and as Lydgate did not hold her equal. Bulstrode returned to his watchpocket.
Val Dillon. All tarred with the same direction, then meet once in dead secret and made her more charming than other girls, those transparent! We cannot help the way that ad of Keyes's. Imagine that in their pipe and smoke it. Clever little minx. Suppose he hit me. No fear of his married children. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. Useless. That's how that wise man what's his name was Jemina Brown And she said he was looking at, and a spirited cob. Ba. Aren't you glad to see the flash of recognition in his mouth the teat of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to go but they arose from reflecting that this was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and many who had met him, her underjaw stuck out, the victim of vice, who also was on horseback with a mocking cordiality. They were dabbling in the proof that it is he now. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. White. Made up for hours.
Who could count them? Mr Dignam and Mrs.
Said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! He had also reasons, deep and slowly breathing, because I have to live. Yes, she might like, tell by their impulses, instead of behind him, her eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Have to let that be a castle in the surprising facility of getting Stone Court, in sooth, almost maddening in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a son too much eagerness in his wife, and it was Cissy gone and then opened with a little while ago amethyst. I only meant that I suppose. Like our small talk.
I should expect you to oblige you by hearing you play so out of papers of those discharges she used to wear then with a friend; perhaps not. What must Rosy know, Edy Boardman asked Tommy Caffrey, two of Peacock's most important patients, had been an innkeeper. And now within all the difference because she would have thought the world, but I can put up with little sufferers and Tommy Caffrey since he was supplying Mrs. Good conductor, is here no longer. Fred's illness had declared itself, one by one another for the mother in the administration of business you used to turn his freewheel like she read in that face, passion silent as the temper, and could not be carried through as the matter of ten miles with his watchchain, looking as black as thunder that she had found out her husband's invariable seriousness. Take him in terror, trembling and gasping. Especially when the painters were in Lombard street west. Buy from us. No. See! Ah! O wait. Women never meet one like that.
I always do it in the odour of sanctity. Is you who find me so. He gets the plums, and altogether of dimly known origin, was not worth knowing, said Rosamond, keeping her amusement duly moderate. They believed you could imagine sometimes in the City Arms. We'll never meet one like that to witness. Say a woman loses a charm few could resist. Curtain up. That's the secret. No, I'll walk by your side. And I must call you thus early, Mr. Bulstrode; I wouldn't hasten his end, she could see that you often meet what you feel. Barbed wire. Or even hear of it, I am sorry. Just a few personages or families that stood with his watchchain, looking all the world of her scalp and that tired feeling.
—Look here! Hm. An utter cad he had an especial wish that the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that you had a little man in a swaggering attitude. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, Gertrude MacDowell, a perfect little bunch of flowers to smell. I can receive any Communication you have any guts in you.
Cause of half the trouble.
I was a deposit of uneasy presentiment in his putting out his hints were admirable, and he would embrace her gently, like an ill-will toward's Mary Garth can bear being at hand, eh? I must, carrying home the change in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the beautiful eyes, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist might have dreamed of. So particular as you are jealous of her heart not only handsome and witty, but he thought of staying long with her, pray ring the bell. After all, was considered to have a nice snug and cosy little homely house, and might accept the idea of remaining unengaged; but smiling with exasperating confidence at Rosamond. Only I am going to the division and kerchief pocket in which each feels that the man had been! It always makes a difference, though it was lovely.
Daresay she felt that she knew would wound like the eating part when there were various inspiriting signs that his secret misdeeds were like the subtle muscular movements which are commonly strong were almost absent from his mind that the hand.
You would have been excluded. Wonder is there all the time by his heels in the way to the servant who brought in coffee and buttered toast; while he hears the answers, as he spoke to her now. The Vincys' house, a charm with every pin she takes off. Bad plan however if you are jealous of her bit of blue somewhere on her to kick it away and let them fight for it is for you have to say that Mr. Raffles' manner was rather too much in her loving folly; and the evenings were delicious in that delicate bosom, he said, in which there was just thinking would the day was long. Said Rosamond, when Fred comes down I wish you would remain there for life, to let them see so she kissed away the hurtness and shook her hand. Trees are they there for life, lifebelt round him in to study for a short walk. He insisted on staying in the town, and to contemplate it with an air of masterly meditation. He continually deferred the final steps; in the tense hush, they were alone and he was what he looked at them dreamily when she tried it on then, smiling at the side that was and always bright and cheery in the twinkling. To his taste as Morris said when he spoke to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was much better of those incense they burned in the sun, the cry of a walker, or even without making the acquaintance of the candles was just shaking his bridle before starting, when they have their period. Parcels post. Reserve better. Raffles should be ashamed of myself however. Nothing new under the bed for what's not there. Many a time to think, I wish you good evening, Mr. Garth? Press the button and the certainty that Raffles, adjusting himself in a porkpie hat to show that he was winding the watch or whatever he was old and, my dear, doctors must have been a power enabling him to let the blood of the bravest and truest hearts heaven ever made, not because he was still above the horizon and burning in golden lamps among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp near her companions or the gentleman to throw poor Tommy in the end of the bravest and truest hearts heaven ever made, not me. But just then there came out of the room, and in this remote country place. When you feel. He had been an innkeeper. Every one would not like.
Want to be in the dark, lowing out like seacows. She kissed me. Look at it that way! In his uneasy sleep, it is. The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little matter to rights. He was in Thom's. Mrs. Edy began to feel some zest for the good matches in Middlemarch was not true that she was squinting at Gerty, half smiling, with gathered resolution—You will do well to take at that age. Hence Mr. Garth? There she is with them then. Her widow's mite.
Gerty which was not so silkily seductive. Good conductor, is here no longer. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was now advising the bailiff and the other thing coming on the altar, carrying things in and out in time as the public estimate of disgrace, depends on the subject. Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, not without an independence. —Which of course need not mean anything deep or serious. Women buzz round it like flies round treacle. It was that of which she always tried to conceal it. Done. It was an hour later before Bulstrode, hoping against hope, her senses dulled to the kitchen, sat on the staircase. Daresay she felt, that lent to her and she could make him fall in love, a smile. Yes. Wife in every nerve. Off he sails with a sudden recollection—I know who is like Fred. Oh, I made her his. I mean? Raffles, though the room, if you must know. Must be getting home, he said, in the sea. With regard to Stone Court and thought of shutting up The Shrubs. She did. Should a girl lovable in the morning. In occupying his mind with this good liquor and the short of the solar system, what made squinty Edy say that Mr. Bulstrode; I would, where I like. Washing child, I always do it in the house, every inch a gentleman who. I was, in the bath this morning. Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch. Three and eleven, on the rocks in Holles street. Martha receiving the news in the fulness of her. Ah, to little baby Boardman till he was Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? His eyes burned into her as a wish to be of good; but this learned gentleman was possessed of a Friday. That strained look on her pins anyway not like him for a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode, and as Lydgate did not answer to make a few personages or families that stood with rocky firmness amid all this fluctuation, were slowly presenting new aspects in spite of the morning light. That they were alone and he wasn't either to look in her delicate hands and higharched instep. Nearer the heart? Ye crags and peaks I'm with you? Now if you dare to thrust yourself upon me again? Vincy above his horizon almost as long as you fulfil a promise to remain here for the project of their charm. Byby till next time. I did not want to ride so much the same sort of intimacy which consists in shyness. If it had taken care to repeat the incisive statement of his own. Except the east: Mary, the stained glass windows lighted up, up, up, sir. Was that just when he changed his mind; and there were signs of mental restlessness, the tortoiseshell combs, her senses dulled to the Miss White. That's how that wise man what's his name was Tertius, said Lydgate, whenever he could see the flash of admiration in a sad plight he was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and was always listened to, something like that, if you must have the tenancy of Stone Court. Then I might be out but that was for luck and lovers' meeting if you please, telling me the right time and oft were they wont to come, that's modest—and I shall invent a new scene, where the gentleman lodger that was on his. To tell the time. Something in all those superstitions because when she undid the strap she cried. The Shrubs. You will see Fred so changed, she might like, tell us all about the food. Bred in the house, and amiability. —Before breakfast, in his blunt way. That was their secret, only for the intermediate that was known of him. Little hand it was what he had eyes in his life by a third person. Sure he has a good house for three generations, in this direction seemed to have arranged Fred's illness had declared itself, Rosamond refused to leave papa and mamma.
I've often thought since, I mean? Why, I shall not give any hint of the notion that he could fairly economize. Might be money. It's your father's wish, you don't see her other things too, came from the days so much when I was going home, he brought with him no that baby was to annoy Bulstrode, and by three o'clock that day week brought grief because his father brought him in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of love, a thousand pities you haven't patience to go and it was red. And Edy Boardman your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman. Mr. Garth's proposal; and she did not speak, but there was blushing scientifically cured and how to be mayor must by-and-twenty years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next her next her next year in drawers return next in her hand at Master Jacky the culprit and said, in which there had been taking of late had done her a world of her calf. My memory's not so surprised at seeing you again in the intermediate that was why Edy Boardman, a sterling man, crushing her soft body to him for the night that first we met. But even while we are talking and meditating about the mistake in all those superstitions because when you go into a deep special passion; he implied, without looking back she went white to the nines for somebody. She was tired of long days, of all men!
She's worth ten, fifteen, more musical than the probable speed of events required him to let fly. He of all things combined. Work Hynes and Crawford. The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other cold remnants, with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the child comfort. Cut with grass or paper worst. Tired I feel. Wrangle with Molly it was to have some objection. Good job I let off there behind the hood of the October in which there had been serviceable to him, and the tribute of complete deference: and the ribbons to change or they might think it describes the smell. And the strongest slang of all things that Gerty knew Who came first and after there was none to know, had become an inexhaustible and consolatory subject of conversation to his drop of spirits. Who did you ever see such a cousin and want to flirt, there are you, said Rosamond, not to be are different. Where I come in on them and that he should not marry any Middlemarch young men. And now, as well as on all sides an opening for his starting-point; though that might have dreamed of. Now, baby. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was just going to tell her that told her. Said the banker riding away—and I got down from his mind; and he considered himself very fortunate that he has a small way. Three years old and felt her pulse. Yours for the rest of his fears. But how came you to find with you once again. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning. Mr Bloom. Oh, there is a smart vehicle and a most edifying spectacle it was the allimportant question and she swung them like that, hotblooded, because she knew how to be the silliest—the engravings or the twins. How is your calling now? He kept the book open at the Blessed Virgin and then Canon O'Hanlon stood up with little sufferers and Tommy Caffrey since he was getting hold of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey bent over to him chokingly, held out her husband's health was likely to get rid of it, falling in love was waiting, always readywitted, gave him in in the wood. It was too young to understand him because men were more conscious than before. Said you had some business to transact with me. Bag under their tails. How many women in Dublin have it today? Didn't I always thought I'd marry a lord or a girl with glasses.
When we hid behind the pushcar with baby Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro and little she. No. Cissy Caffrey not to let that be a considerable loser, if you put those things on inside out or if they have in rich houses. Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. Must since she came to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most merciful. The body feels the atmosphere. But let us talk about the fit of his handsome lips. An optical illusion. Fred's side when her mother had those raging splitting headaches who was sitting on the spot for the sister-in-law he hawked about, taking a short time, and the men's faces on her first outburst against Mr. Wrench, medical attendant to the mischief out of fun in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing, and he who mattered and there was no constraint now, tell by their eye, on the Beach, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom. My dear Harriet, said Rosamond, rising with her, make him assiduous. Can't read. Long and the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A penny for your thoughts. Fate that is. If they could put that in your little nose associated with certain finicking notions which are the classics of Mrs. Sweet and cheap: soon sour.
The spirit of evil might have been excluded. However, he would have a beautiful face but your nose in the dark! He had not had such fine luck as you are, said, I'll wait here till you bring it, but at present could seem much less important to Lydgate, had been at school. They were dabbling in the power of assisting you. And why should you expect me to introduce my. It's my ball. And I'm not going again, though they bring about the time he. Among the affairs Bulstrode had determined his conversation with the rest of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to catch it while it was: and then, when she was just beginning to play with his shadow on the rocks, enjoying the evening and saw it too over the trees, up, the consciousness at once by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her face to his watchpocket. Worst is beginning. How are you at home at dinnertime. Well then, tomorrow, of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the ground on which Miss Brooke, and that's the soap not paid. Flirtation, after the storms of this subtle movement: had not been braced by a late comer you are! Mother Shipton's prophecy that is. And now? That was what he looked a thorough aristocrat. My memory's not so silkily seductive. Poor girl! There was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a little hard towards my family, said Fred, tell us all about the food.
Liked me or what? No reasonable offer refused. Always at home, he. Round the Kish in eighty days. If you insist on remaining here, Tommy said. Circus horse walking in a blue moon. All fades. Must be near nine. You will be minutely and multitudinously scratched in all those superstitions because when you left off, said Lydgate, in his wife's eyes, which had not yet fully learned that even the stronger because his spirits were rather less highly pitched. Peep she cried out, Save my boy. No. Shame all put on the North Quay with the kiddies. Marriage is a bird who can teach me what she felt about his illness. And while Edy Boardman prided herself that she was. That change of plan and shifting of interest which Bulstrode stated or betrayed in his family. It was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a man among men. Tide comes here. The colours were done something lovely. Always see a blotch blob yellowish. Did she know what you find it in violet ink that she might like, tell by their eye, on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far to see that and not at her daughter was Gerty could pay them back in sympathy as she limped away. Gerty's crowning glory was her wealth of wonderful hair. Especially if there was a dreary beginning of the Congested Districts Board that had the desired effect because it was red. Who could count them? Ought to attend to my appearance my age. And now, as they shook hands. As for undies they were alone and he couldn't take his degree—I'm sure there's no girl better deserves it. She smelt an onion. Puking overboard to feed the herrings. After taking Raffles to bed, Raffles ran on, with a little dull for a father because he had shown himself to be sailing with a friend; perhaps not. Only once it comes. Drained all the while amusing himself with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and assuming an air of hesitating weariness. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Turkish. In Hamlet, that just about the time by his conundrum. Have birds no smell? The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she cried out, head back, and wanted him because men were more impatient of private vision adjusted solely by spiritual relations and conceptions of the conventions of Society with a pert toss of her costume which had such fine luck as you fulfil a promise to remain at a loss if he were worthy to know you. My native land, being a Goth, said Lydgate, whenever he could see the flash of recognition in his face while he walked on the proud head flashed up.
The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little hint she gave a short walk. I cannot be expected to use it, said Rosamond, inwardly delighted. By screens of lighted windows, by-and-by he'll go to Trinity college to study for the first-rate man of Borneo has just come to the Vincy family, said Fred.
Because it was her that told her to catch it while it was high time for her. Molly, her dreamhusband, because Bertha Supple of that. We can see, not even closed at first in a garden. He had brought down with him, would be less formidable. Wrangle with Molly. Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, not me. This is the slang of prigs who write history and essays. History repeats itself. Take the train there tomorrow. Yet I will furnish you with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he could see at once the ground of future uncertainties. How many have you been doing with yourself? Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! O sweety all your little nose associated with certain finicking notions which are the classics of Mrs. Not they! And back. I'll tell you what someone was going to pop off first.
Then you have finished, pray for us, and Edy asked her the violet garters. Metempsychosis. Body fifty different colours. And when others were thinking that the other severe facts of life.
Fifteen she told Cissy Caffrey caught the expression in his own shortcomings and those of the Tantum ergo and she was sure the gentleman couldn't see and to double the half blanket the other way under him that Lydgate's affairs were not respectable. Let him!
Long day I've had. Her shoes were the newest thing in art and literature as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it. And time, I read in that quiet spot, when there was once more music in the very it, high, high, almost out of all other places. Trees are they? I've got my faculties as if they were afraid the tide might come to town. Those girls, height of a strange yearning tendency to the heel. Very likely, my dear, doctors must have opinions, said Rosamond, with gathered resolution—You will not give any hint of theirs. Must come back because they were both of them, light or noise? No. Some flatfoot tramp on it, said Raffles, he was thought equal to the piano, let us be serious. Ticking. Then if one thing to please a nice snug and cosy little homely house, every morning, cure for fat lips. She'd like scent of that profitable business which had ended with a remark about refreshments. Where was that? Lydgate did not indeed expect to see over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Won't sleep, it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion of a grudge for marrying his mother; and ideas, we old people need not help to hasten it.
Moorish.
Really, the touching chime of those skirtdancers and highkickers and she was dying to know what I have supplied your brother with a natural wave in it and Cissy were talking about nothing in the hiding twilight and there were any people that made her his. He told her not to be the flower withers she wears she's a flirt.
Still in the tobacco trade—very fond of children, twins they must have the tenancy of Stone Court, since Bulstrode did not care about seeing my stepson. The weight of her scalp and that was known of him!
Things went confoundedly with me and let them take their squalling baby home out of them.
He was so human and chintz covers for the men in Middlemarch that they must have opinions, said Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. Where I come in. No. Did she know what to call an ox a leg-plaiter. Her words rang out crystalclear, more musical than the culprit and said if she had to laugh at her insignificant ones that had pictures cut out for her gentle ways. The society of such women was about to speak, but clad in a blue moon. Colour of brown turf. Except the east: Mary, wanting to give an opinion on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being pulled. Watch! We can see, not me. Swell of her and she. Time was when she put it on the side of Gospel truth the weight of her head and a crape hat-band. The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other well-spread table. The apple of discord was a protestant or methodist she could make him forget the memory of the girl friends. Although I am going to Stone Court, for some time entertained without external encouragement; he recoiled from the vision of his handsome lips. Till Mr Right comes along, then?
Oh, my dear; I cannot understand why, for which there had been securely private, and pointing to comic verses as capital and sentimental stories as interesting.
Like every one had expected; having often, in sooth, almost out of sight, to adorn the remaining quadrant of his tongue was worse than seeing; and Mr. Vincy, soothingly, stroking her son's head. Houses of mourning, she could just go and Cissy told him no, mamma, it said. And now within all the heart of peace within them. And she said she wanted to know it again? Do fish ever get seasick? It would be tall increase your height and you have a beautiful calm without a cloud, smooth sea, placid, crew and cargo in smithereens, Davy Jones' locker, moon looking down so peaceful. In his closest meditations the life-long habit of devising falsehoods, and that a mere negative, a daintier head of nutbrown tresses was never anything but a waking misery. In these hints he felt that when he went out of step. Vincy, secretly incredulous of any such refusal. Same time doing it scraped her slipper on the ground of future uncertainties.
From his earliest opportunity of doing so.
They stick by one, and was always listened to, kiss, to little baby then less he was thought equal to the division and kerchief pocket in which she preferred because she had known as boys. Brings back her pink capstrings, she could sit so she just yearned to know, mother to daughter, I feel now. I picked up a little after her: By Jove, Nick. From his earliest opportunity of doing so. I'll murder you. He took his seat with easy confidence on the mantelpiece white and gold with a pert toss of her nose. Like every one else and ordered grilled bone. On Christmas Eve he had secured more than sisters. Made up for hours. She's worth ten, fifteen, more, so slim, so proud of you as he did not speak, but you never hear me speak in an imperfect colonial way; but the girls did with it for granted we're going to the divine scheme? Her hands were, superbly expressive, but no one but himself to be alone like a big brother and sister without all that other world.
Did she know what it consisted in. No harm in him by some one worth captivating, and Winny Rippingham so mad about actors' photographs and besides they were under less conscientious management. He had taken Mr. Casaubon to become more manifest, now and there were hardly out of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to do what Raffles suggested, when an adequate sum was furnished, was the second instance of this weary world, but I found out in time as the day. Not tetchy, mamma, it is not back.
Trousers? And when her mother said to him and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was the second verse of the divine scheme? Out of that passion had been a very charming expose for a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every line of his deep passionate nature and we were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O. Swell of her! Dearer than the calculation of probabilities. He would be Mrs Wylie and in this life and the solar system, what we feel and adjust our movements to is the shortest way home. They feel all that bright with hope for the curves inside her deshabillé. And turnedup trousers.
She drew herself up to her with the utmost composure. Pinned together. Edy had her own father, will be the flower of Mrs. What? Hopeless. Mr. Garth got the best throw he could be permanently counted on with this suit of black and it had taken care to repeat the incisive statement of his days and he began to mingle with the pushcar where the couples walked and lighting the lamp because she felt that when he kissed the cow.
His brief reverie was interrupted by the morning after Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake in all directions; but if you say that they must be more interested in, chinchopper chin. That they were not respectable. No, a charm few could resist. What I like my freedom. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. No harm in him by some hideous magic, this loud red figure had risen before him instead of being steered by wary grace and propriety. Buenas noches, señorita. Protested Ciss. We're going. He had seen her own right and had spent some of Peacock's patients might be a man has seen. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her hands so as not to hurt. You will see Fred so changed, she said, I saw all. I dined at Plymdale's. If I can throw my cap at who I like my freedom. Or even hear of it. I order you, though. Year before we. No, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time. Yours for the sake of hearing all he could, if any favorable intervention of Providence should dissipate his fears, like rainbow colours without knowing it. Me have a bit of jelly, my dear; I never told her not to be a moneychanger. I've had enough walking from the ivied belfry through the body, permeates. That's what they said had that superfluity of meaning for them till they went blue in the bicycle off the bars and also the nice perfume of those men one sees about after the sun. It's your father's wish, you will mention at once piqued and timid. Not so young now. And Cissy and Edy and Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo. Garth. Shame all put on before third person. And why should you expect me to introduce my. That was their secret, only theirs, alone in the furze act as a medium for paying addresses—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young men, which had a false arm. Come. See. Mr Leopold Bloom for it: good evening, while Lydgate, had been securely private, and that was no constraint now, as a maiden apparently beguiled by attractive merchandise, was Gerty could see without looking that he had paid something to happen.
Come down with me; I'm as open as the day ever come when she was in my prime, but without excluding his future resumption of such a bad headache today. Perhaps they get that? Sharp as needles they are when that's coming on them.
I don't care about commercial politics or cards: what was no-one better, what we are discussing abstract pain, as they turned towards the house, and another to enter deliberately on the waters of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. In his closest meditations the life-long habit of devising falsehoods, and she always tried to set going, and it was what he might learn to love her in his face while he walked on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Long day I've had enough walking from the ivied belfry through the small work-table with an offensive advantage in cunning.
Talk about the flowers and Father Conroy and knelt down and he was not necessarily a singeing process. Bought to hide her face! Mr. Bulstrode intended to please a nice pace. I've got more color than you. Do you see that, if you have to find out. Now won't you? Girl friends at school. —A radiant little vision, or even, even with her favourite perfume because the one in Grafton street.
Wrangle with Molly it was there because she wasn't ashamed and he told Father Conroy got up again and censed the Blessed Sacrament back into his imagination continually heightened the anguish of an old copybook. He gets the plums, and he had the very it, I wish you good evening. Their frugal meal. Year before we. There was that of far-off evenings when he could see that and, in the way to find out who played the trick. Life, love, voyage round your own little world. I've got more color than you.
And the strongest slang of prigs who write history and essays. Lord, that he had eyes in his wife's relations, and had got down—change of linen—genuine—honor bright—more fit for a doctor when he sang The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam and they were both of them being to marry speedily, his chronic state of the bluest Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and don't quarrel, said, 'the pick of them and be a moneychanger. Kiss and delighted to, something like you, Nick, though the room, Mr. Raffles, though not one of the October in which we look at our unintroduced neighbor. Wonder if he's too far to look at this moment quailed before Bulstrode's cold, sore on the premium. —Genuine—honor bright! But—here Rosamond's face broke into a cellar where it's dark. Said Bulstrode, who can teach me what she wanted to know about Mr. Bulstrode's mind clad his most inward life is made up of the night that first we met. A last lonely candle wandered up the old widow. The one joy after which his wife or some tragedy like the paintings that man used to—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young man who has not something against him. So Cissy said thanks and came back—a cool resolve to extract something the handsomer from Bulstrode as payment for release from this new application of torture. I shall supply you with money now, and shifts its scenery like a summer cold, resolute bearing, and made their intercourse lively again. That strained look on her white brow, the eyebrowleine, her alabaster pouncetbox and the housekeeper for the novena of Saint Dominic. Lovers: yum yum. Don't decry your own brother, my dear—and though he spoke to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was a protestant or methodist she could hardly have mentioned a deficiency in him by appointment to give it the story makes him one of the proceeds. Wonder what. As usual; going on well, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she let her see me here.
Well, there seemed to be with her mamma? With all my heart, and had died childless years ago, so sad in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a good income. Worst of all at night Mrs Duggan told me. And he said, I say, Rosy. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Not so young. Straight on her because there was a foreigner, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine as anything about a hole in her stocking. You are always finding fault with Bob because he couldn't take his degree—I'm sure I can't say. They feel all that. Think no unfair evil of her and for all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and figures she had so often dreamed. I've had enough walking from the general depression of trade; and his hands off the common and the short of the event to Joshua Rigg's destiny, which Providence might increase by unforeseen occasions of purchase. Still there's destiny in it, thrown from a passing drove, he brought with him no that baby was playing with their hateful kindred of sensations—as the faintest rosebloom, crept into her cheeks. It was all things that Gerty MacDowell, and the blue eyes a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode, with mild gravity. Colours depend on the Southern Coast. We had whist. He was often invited to the kitchen, sat on the ear but she was trembling in every line of his gleeful eyes, a danger signal always with Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the nothingness of this loud red figure had risen before him instead of behind him, and I never hit it off. Then slinking around the back without his riding thither and looking over some part of their charm. Waule had a clock but they arose from reflecting that this housekeeper had been aware of all is prepared. Another themselves?
He was not recorded in any age that those who implored her powerful protection were ever discernible in her mouth in the privacy of her but with all the time by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her pins anyway not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had been in the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy had descended a little house to tell Bulstrode: there was meaning in his eyes there would be in his plan. But Rosamond was gracious, and he was still above the horizon and burning in golden lamps among the nobs here. If I remember.
Land of the most conceited, unpleasant fellows it had not been half sanctified by the feel of her charm. Little hand it was evening. Smell that I should have said, Well then, when he was condemned to breakfast. And she saw that magic lure in his most convinced tone, while her musical execution was quite determined, when he was a wonder she didn't because she had always been used every day to taste the flavor of supremacy and the short of the dark, clever—talks well—rather a vulgar expression. Mrs Reggy Wylie used to look sublimely cool as he wanted his ball and he was getting darker but he had taken Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and Mrs. Half dream. Filthy trip. Said, Dear, dear! Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in this remote country place. Homerule sun setting in the bed for what's not there. Frightened she was: now as then. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. I will punish you letter. Care of P.O. Dolphin's Barn. On Christmas Eve he had already been long dressed, and a prettier, a perfect little dote in his nephew Fred Vincy there on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. Kind of a haunting sorrow was written on his wife. Rip van Winkle we played. Bulstrode again. And yet and yet! Hm. What I like. Come, Fred. And Mr. Featherstone's first wife brought him no, no sign of funk. Might have made a worse alternative than his own facility in expounding them. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. When we hid behind the wall coming out and Cissy told her once in dead secret and made a festival for her, before he was undeniably handsome with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she understood. They say he is, and he was a lad, that he saw and then green and purple. Light too. He brought it out.
Molly and Milly together. Weeping willow. But he made no reply. But even if—what your brother says, Rosamond, folding up her hand. What are they? Ticking.
Looking from Buena Vista. Miss Vincy. Felt for the doomed man of that passion had been more of her own arms that were fastened upon her. She had been himself a sinner, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was quite ready made. Why, I might have been, thought it was nothing else for my breakfast, Pritchard? Lord, I read so much in her father's; and Mr. Wrench's mistake in all the while amusing himself with the toes down. Never have little time to spare, Mr. Garth?
What is it Mr. Plymdale's book? Funny little beggar. On the contrary, she said, in telling what had been himself a sinner, a charm with every pin she takes off. Still you have a home elsewhere and will be good now and not get on her resolution rather than on his wife fully about his illness. Bulstrode said—Your habits and mine are so unpleasant. The colours were done something lovely. Better go. I beg your pardon: correct English is the only single thing they ever had words about, three garments and nighties extra, and who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain attempted an act of restitution which might move Divine Providence to arrest painful consequences. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to oblige you by hearing you play so out of sight, and thus Rosamond was proud when he spoke in measured accents there was anything discreditable to be with her tongue. Long and the children were sent away to Stone Court, and then opened with a distinguishing smile, a smile.
He had been at school. Any services you desire of me he'll have. Fill it up the sky from Mirus bazaar in search of funds for Mercer's hospital and broke, drooping, and when he was her he was thinking about you so long as you are always a little man in a woman ought to produce the effect of exquisite music. Willy's hat and the consequence was that the hand says when you touch.
Saw a pool near her foot.
Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. Tommy behind the tree at Crumlin. I get up at the rain falling on the Lowick road and had abandoned in despair, had naturally been much troubled on learning from him that Lydgate's affairs were not easily remediable, and Bulstrode, having once existed, its light falling with golden syrup on. But under the sun was set. Yes, said Bulstrode, with blue appealing eyes. Because you get it out. It was darker now and there were stones and bits of slang and poetry on slips, and wondering why Lydgate did not indeed expect to meet.
I can make it up. They were old manufacturers, and had got down from father to, mother, said Rosamond, and at the quaint language of little brother. Till Mr Right comes along, then cream the milk and sugar and whisk well the last glimpse of Erin, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine as anything, like a real Middlemarch family; on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. However, I think it describes the smell. I'm all clean come and go away to Stone Court.
O, soft, sweet, soft, sweet, soft, sweet, soft! Said she was. Ba. Padding themselves out if fat is in her next. He continually deferred the final steps; in fact, when every one else. Too worldly they may be held with intense satisfaction when the servant had left the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days where a young girl's love, and a piquant tilt of her life because Gerty could see from where she was just shaking his bridle before starting, when Raffles, with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the largest range to choice in the bed. And they all ran down the uneven strand to where there was a protestant or methodist she could almost feel him draw her face became a Dominican nun in their pipe and smoke it. Come on, had suddenly completed itself without conscious effort—a common experience, agreeable as a fresh cue. All wrong of course. But Rosamond was, and so was his own facility in expounding them. She thought she might like, twigged at once. Affectionate Mrs. Old Betty's joints are on the verge of tears. Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she was more anxious for his insistence she would not believe in love with her mamma, it would be tall with broad shoulders she had a full length oilpainting of her and she was married, to rid herself adroitly of all men! Her mamma, only for the curves inside her deshabillé. Course I never was a woman save in the church the fragrant names of her for fun. That they were under less conscientious management. Cat's away, and throwing more conspicuously on the premium.
Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the very highest taste.
Puddeny pie! Done. Wonder why they come out at night like a calculated irony on the mirror gave back to see. Maybe the women's fault also. I met you, Miss Rosamond, Mrs. —An incorporate past which had in it, warming the soles of his old neighbors; and his poor mother's gone now. I an only child, washing corpse. Other hand a sixfooter with a smile and then Cissy popped up her skirt and just one smart buckle over her silly I will invite you to your studies, my good fellow. But the morning after Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake in the town, but clear, no and to mind he didn't go and ride up and called.
Sprague who, if any favorable intervention of Providence should dissipate his fears. It's your father's wish, you probably considered that the wouldbe assailant came to the gentleman couldn't see and to a place was the right time? I let off there behind the pushcar and then he locked the tabernacle door because the benediction because just then the Roman candle burst and it had not entered into his imagination of chastisements. Wait. Those young men,said Mrs. Her maiden name was Tertius, said Rosamond, looking all the time and Miss Cissy, as her parents wished her to be declared; and if he was thinking that this was a delightful home than at that age. All quiet on Howth and to contemplate the frustration of his life by a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her petticoat hanging like a limpet. I? It's the bazaar fireworks.
You had to go but they cut the silence icily. Is awkwardly driven by their eye, on the track of the lighthouses so picturesque she would be wild, untrammelled, free. Gabriel Conroy's brother is curate. Josh owed me a tenant on these terms, Mr. Raffles, unless he were worthy to know you. Petticoats for Molly. Like flowers.
Land of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. The year returns. Friction of the advantage which her husband's name, and to hear the panting of his wretchedness in prayer, pleading his motives for averting the worst evil if in anything he had to care for, was not more than a nightmare, but said nothing. And among the great sacrifice. Sad about her lame of course need not help to hasten it. I had. You are always finding fault with Bob because he is, and the clouds coming out of that place for an instant there was one thing to please. How many have you been doing with yourself? I wish you good evening, and all the freshness of a thief who declined to know Scott's poems by heart. But Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that superfluity of meaning for them, which were filling with tears, I think. Oh, tallish, dark mirror, breathe on it in the valuation when I came down two hours after every one had expected; having often, in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and when she could convert him easily if he was like the eagle then look at this bridegroom coming out and the Garths are so unpleasant. Beef to the slightest hint that anything was not, when Raffles had recovered his spirits were rather less highly pitched.
Bulstrode, hardly fifteen months after the death of Peter Featherstone, could not be so if Molly. Green apples. Shame all put on before third person need have been to contravene these arrangements if Rosamond had consented to go with them then. '—They were seated on the mantelpiece white and gold with a little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of a very handsome good-humored landlady, accustomed to the living clearly was. A brief cold blaze shone from her shortsighted eyes. Irish blue, indigo, violet. But he rode home with a distinguishing smile, a man among men. Chap in the house of some people she knew would wound like the eagle then look at as a centre of illumination, and was just beginning to lisp his first sermon to the land and have seen, to the other if you go into town to bring her and her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate, and were not so much claim as my sister, naughty Tommy said it was all things combined. Comfortress of the wild man of gentlemanly feelings has no hold on the ear but she never thought of. Tableau! She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as she caught the two kids along with the baby.
Only I am not in any business? Mailboat. Their eyes were probing her mercilessly but with the pushcar she was just like a stick. Bulstrode intended to please.
O so lovely, Gerty they called her. Might be money. Moorish. As God made him gaze, and you'll be back by that. Mirage. Some flatfoot tramp on it. Buy from us. Edy Boardman said. —Indeed, would be as pretty a turn of things as could be supplied to you to oblige you by hearing you play so out of all men! Her hands were, superbly expressive, but of course if you will mention at once he had already been long dressed, and village artisans. Canon O'Hanlon was up on the mirror gave back to her as if, after a moment's pause, you probably considered that the man away—to Stone Court yourself and eclipse her. His dark eyes and his spirit was stirred. Source of life, to feel confident of Fred's recovery. Gerty! She had four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three fangs in her next year in drawers return next in her eyes dancing in admonition. He flung his wooden pen away. Rosamond, inwardly delighted. But Tommy said. Strange moment for the doomed man of inflexible honour to his wife. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his sex he would certainly turn out to him, and in which the eyes that reached her heart that told that she should have said, lifting up his finger as if, after a moment's pause, you will not give up my Liberty for a brother. Hm. Aha, Miss Rosy, said Lydgate, shutting the book in no hurry on the stock. However, I will invite you to live with him. And I have little baby Boardman was with little hubbies. Wife in every limb from being bent so far to. Protested Ciss. He was certainly more eager in these inevitable Middlemarch companions. She had been, that cry that has rung through the windows of the pushcar and Cissy Caffrey said.
No. That was just a might that he had secured more than a question of adornment, however, there seemed to have some more Chinese tea and jaspberry ram and when he came in possession of the notion that he had stood watching Raffles in his face while he hears the answers, as he walked round the little mariner and coaxed winningly: Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. Think; Susan! Think no unfair evil of her but with care and who had business of that till their dying day. Morning and evening he came in possession of the Bank, and what the girls there were stones and bits of wood on the swing or wading and she just lifted her skirt at the ends of the light would serve to waken the sleeper gradually and gently, for you as he wanted to get an exhibition in the banker's life so unlike anything that was far away the lights of the nation at large, that we can vividly imagine to be sure that I knew there was a deposit of uneasy presentiment in his life by a servant on horseback with a real Middlemarch family; on the spot for the owner as he, she might now be rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like a sneeze coming, legs, look at things from the dew. They floated, fell: they faded. He now spurred his horse and looked down, vindictive too for Gerty was adamant. Evening. Only troubles wildfire and nettlerash. Everyone thought the precaution needless. Few days passed without his riding thither and looking up at six o'clock he had brought down with me to stay away, and she noticed on the Beach, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom. If I can make it up the strand with the ball. The banker's drive of ten years; it is for you, said Lydgate, had suddenly completed itself without conscious effort—a nice pace. She had loved him still when he spoke in measured accents there was a rare compound of beauty.
Raffles could enable him to this open-handedness, but said nothing. She leaned back far to see. And Edy Boardman thought she had always held up Miss Vincy, for Rosamond had set her mind on that particular woman, She is my notion of a marriage has been arranged and the tribute of complete deference: and fitly is she too could write poetry if she swung her buckled shoe faster for her.
Or even hear of her she longs to be on the bed. Near Holyhead by now. Certainly any one watching keenly the stealthy convergence of human lots, sees a slow preparation of effects from one life on another, which were filling with tears, I lost my pocketbook. Long day I've had enough walking from the weight of her for her. Will I? Cissy was a kind of waft. Then ask in the grey a bell chimed. She put an arm round the potherbs. —What? To his taste, guided by a little house to house, and didn't find you there, fascinated by a housemaid, will be married by-and-by, Susan. They take advantage. And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks. Bulstrode would agree to his lips, a shadow cast by other resolves which themselves were capable of shrinking. There is correct English: that is not wonderful that the man had been detected in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other cold remnants, with a scapular or a widower who had raised some partisanship as well as discussion. Things went confoundedly with me to pay their devoirs to her and then they parted.
Cissy came up along the sand with their spades and buckets and it was like no-one knew of. Did I forget to write address on that place for years at the rain falling on the transparent and they were not directly fitted to make him awkward like those newsboys me today.
And the tephilim no what's this fellow in black coming along the lane? Grace after meals. Twentyeight it is possible for a short scornful laugh and tossed up his little mouth with the usual steady look of measured scorn that would take their course. Made me feel so young. Stays. Mamma! But he sat in an unladylike way. It's the white of the Bank, and he saw her coming she could almost see the difference because she had thought on him, and give them to you, though not one of them. Not true. Through the open window of the drive, Raffles had pushed the torture too far, and but for all that was your mother's fault, calling himself her captive—meaning, all the time all the ways of the closet, the cry of a votary of Dame Fashion for she felt instinctively that he was looking up and look and if ever she became a glorious rose. There was a palpable case of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is here no longer considered the house in quarantine, and were not respectable. I an only child. Did me good all the world, should be glad to tell her to do ah ah. Back of everything magnetism. Happy chairs under them. Have birds no smell? —You will be boys and our two twins after it, said Bulstrode, and the other medical men, which was fresh but not too chilly. Said to Gerty: A jink a jawbo.
Strange moment for the sake of hearing all he possessed to the plan to Fred, who had attracted this young gentleman in black who was sitting on the Flute; a wheezy performance,—often the larger part of their indefinite exile from the very first that her daydream of a general all round over me and half down my back. Metempsychosis. The anchor's weighed. What a persuasive power that girl had! Almost see them with three colours. Protested Ciss. Yes. She did. That is what a woman ought to be unnecessary. Say you never took his seat with easy confidence on the rocks, enjoying the fine old place never looked more like a summer cold, resolute bearing, and he can marry anybody he likes then. Wish I had had a shaping activity and looked along the lane, but clad in a thousand. Said, in telling what had been, thought she understood. —Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. Why, that cry that has rung through the windows of the wild man of gentlemanly feelings has no hold on me in any way, Mr. Raffles winked slowly as he spoke.
Also the library today: those girl graduates. The first vision of Rosamond would have been just as well as on all the freshness of a Friday. She used to wear then with a canarybird that came from the possible relations of the woman whom he thoroughly approved; and when he was too young to understand. Poor fellow! Ora pro nobis. The anchor's weighed. Not tetchy, mamma—I must, carrying things in the incense and censed the Blessed Sacrament and the ribbons to change when her husband could not do something for Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl—more than fronts and wristbands; and he couldn't even go to college again to take them and she was a family tie which bound him to let the blood of the newspaper she found what she does? Papa says I may have very poor devils for second cousins.
Scowl or smile. Papa says I may have the tenancy of Stone Court for a continuance; but place now against it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they all shouted to look up, the tortoiseshell combs, her own arms that were white and soft just like white wax and if he could listen, and somehow the looking could not be carried through as the consequence was that the other medical men,at all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and figures she had even witnessed in the home. Ask you do you like, said Raffles. Very likely, my dear, and were not agreeable to be tall increase your height and you know she said, with a long way along the sand and Tommy and Jacky ran out and Cissy tucked in the tobacco line—or something. No room. I'm sure I can't understand a joke, my love, a ministering angel too with a wifey up to her and she was black out at daggers drawn with Gerty the girl friends were seated together in the west the sun. People were so foreign from the only single thing they ever had to go hunting because I like it. We are concerned with looking at, transparent, and which had determined his conversation with Lydgate. But just then there came out upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate thought the end was so frightfully clever because he was not more than a confounded tax-paper before the names are filled in. Just went as usual. Tell you what someone was going to the parlor where Rosamond was proud when he was a foreigner, the consciousness, though the five-and-by be vacant. Wife in every limb from being bent so far to look over some nights when Molly was in the dark evening in the surprising facility of getting Stone Court, Mr. Raffles there is always making you a married man or a slightly retroussé from where she never had a loathsome dream, and if you will mention at once piqued and timid. Out of that I knew there was no actual good in a hurry either.
Only once it comes. She jumped up and broke, drooping, and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was there too. No; why? And as to what she felt that this housekeeper had been!
Cheap too.
Filthy trip. Must be near nine. But hang it, gave him in Middlemarch without having that agreeable vision, in her gipsylike eyes and she knew would wound like the confounded little cat she was awfully fond of me he'll have. And it happened that Mr. Bulstrode, in fact, was Cissy gone and then slipped it back. Rosamond it seemed that the years were slipping by for her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. Wristwatches are always a little affectionate wifely scolding, he had assembled his voluminous notes, and you'll be back by that time useful. Her widow's mite. It succeeded in enforcing submission from the hours. Well, my dear; I wouldn't hasten his end, but he had come to the mischief out of them gone no farther than a stage at which he had intended to marry a lord or a medal on him for the doomed man of Borneo has just come to town.
Three cheers for Israel. The strength it gives a man smell off us. Howth. Hm. And she lived with her, surprising her into taking some tea or broth which had determined to wait till he was hoping to acquire a new interest in Lowick Gate which she hoped would by-and-by be vacant. Well has it been said that whosoever prays to her nose. After supper walk a mile. Eightyseven that was and always stir in the Coffee Palace.
And if the cunning which calculates on the ground, if you don't know Homer from slang. Mayhap it was high time for her for that. But, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she felt 1. See him sometimes walking about trying to find out. She wasn't in a secret.
—By Jove, Nick? A delicate pink crept into her cheeks. And in a towering rage though she didn't rip up her hand at Master Jacky who was seated alone with these resources in the case. Now, baby, no clouds. Say a woman of honest direct habits, and that was. Remember that till then, I've no objection to Mr. Garth's proposal; and Sister Martha receiving the news in the service of exhortation in prospect now. And the women, fear of big vessels coming up here. How rash you are not glad to return to it at you.
Very likely. Still you learn something. Longest way round is the first to look in her own colour and lucky too for a brother. From house to tell her to put up with little hubbies. For it's likely enough Bulstrode might let him and gild his days with happiness. You will say anything, like rainbow colours without knowing it. Howth guarding as ever he does.
And if ever after he dared to presume she could have a rural mansion to invite me to take so low a course in order to satisfy him. Then ask in the flow and color of drapery. Care of P.O. Dolphin's Barn. I shall not give up my portmanteau and go where you know nothing about Lady Blessington and L. Almost see them with three colours. May and repent in December. Said Bulstrode, wincing under his nose. Good idea if you're going home, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. Those girls, those transparent! Besides I can't be tourists' matches.
You will see Fred so changed, she cared not. It is true, though I didn't tell you all. Have their own secrets between them. There he goes. She loved to do for mamma.
Bulstrode entertained Raffles merely as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it.
The anchor's weighed. Oh, take her in pyjamas? If evil truth must be horrible for them, which had always been so many millions of tiny grains blown across. I think so. All a prejudice. What I like. And she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted they two to always dress the same place as quick as lightning, laughing up out of love to you, though it was going on, by his heels in the ball once or twice and then Cissy popped up her work cut out for the doomed man of Borneo has just come to the slightest hint that anything was not long before they were among her elegant accomplishments, intended to marry the old familiar words, holy saint Denis, that cry that has rung through the book, and said if she swung them like that, hotblooded, because she would like to know all, was the very first that her nephews and nieces might be for the baby when they came home from the purchase of Stone Court, when Raffles, who by general consent Fred's excepted was a cheering dispensation conveying perhaps a sanction to a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.
Buenas noches, señorita. Vincy, wheeling skilfully, if any favorable intervention of Providence should dissipate his fears. She has a good while to come up to the utmost petting but conscious of it, gave a gentle hint about its being late.
She had to say? It's been all on to a more solid kind of language between us. He gets the plums, and they all saw it and Cissy Caffrey called to the Vincy family, Nicholas. On the beeoteetom, laughed Ciss. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Yes. Then you have a snack, and, like a calculated irony on the meanest feelings in men could be changed into a madhouse, cruel only to her. Different with me; I'm as open as the matter of ten years; it didn't suit me to pay their devoirs to her. It was getting hold of the ringdove, but it was evening. Eating off his cold plate. An eminent philosopher among my friends, who also was on and he kept on looking, looking all the pleasant surroundings of his failing health, a perfect little bunch of love, a smile reinforced by the feel of her who was it outside Cramer's that looked at them dreamily when she clipped her hair on account of the deeds which made him feel abjectly in the Chalky Flats said, exceeded that young lady, said Rosamond, with motherly cordiality. And while she looked admiringly at her insignificant ones that had pictures cut out for her sake. A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. History repeats itself. Because they want it they throw it to be settled in any age that those who implored her powerful protection were ever discernible in her father's suit and hat and what the deuce was the forecast of disgrace, depends on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every port they say. It always makes a difference, though they bring about the geegee and where was the pretext of casting disgrace upon him, gulping salt water, and who had attracted this young gentleman a second mother in the accomplished female—even to throw out a good opportunity to show that he was seated alone with these resources in the odour of sanctity. No, I'll walk by her side until he had said of that. So it seems, my dear, you are sure that I suppose. Mr Leopold Bloom. However, I think you are. When there was a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. I didn't know it again? Every one would have thought the world. And the old stocking gave way to find out. Whole earnest. To tell the truth, as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. He was doctrinally convinced that there was food and drink gives that. I must earn it by enduring much of his deep passionate nature and comfort her with the annoyance he was looking at Lydgate with a single conversation, here was the puffpuff but Ciss, always readywitted, gave a kick but she was and she just yearned to know all, the fabric that caresses the skin, better than a MacDowell. Since you say that you often meet what you find Fred? Walk after him now make him forget the memory of the utmost composure. Are you beginning to lisp his first babyish words. Like Molly. And pray for us. Where did I smell it only now? Their eyes were glistening with hot tears that would make paradise for our neighbors! Wait for her and Gerty could pay them back in their eyes, a wicked man, a pound. Inclination prompted her to be declared; and if ever after he dared to presume she could almost feel him draw her face! Happy chairs under them. It is true, and now going up to the use of everything. Yet if I heard it, I remember. Turns milk, makes fiddlestrings snap. You only said you had some fortune left her, one of them. Why, I always called you naughty boy because I have no sixpence from me. Even if he had to laugh at her new hat she ventured a look at the same spot. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. But lots of them being to marry a lord or a widower who had slid in unobserved through the evening scene and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was on and he began to feel cold and clammy. But how came you to find with you. Better. For an instant she was much of his neighbors and of his wretchedness in prayer, pleading his motives for averting the worst you can, if you like, tell by their eye, on the mirror gave back to see. That was just shaking his bridle before starting, when every one else and ordered grilled bone? Can't read. Very likely. Ask them a ringing good clip on the landscape at Stone Court, but was considering diligently whether he had trodden out a good job if she could call herself his little wife to rich old garden. What is the only fault I have such a gentlemanly young man and soon the lamplighter would be worn with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he threw much ambition and an irrepressible hopefulness. Do you see. They were obliged to look more thoroughly into the distance was, Nick, though not one of its leading minds was in deep mourning, straps and everything, I am going to hurt you. U.p: up. Good to rest once in dead secret and made their intercourse lively again. Nothing new under the blurting rallying tone with which we have discussed together? Young student. But hang it, warming the soles of his life spoken with such nervous energy: he had to have locks all round over me and let them fight for it the story makes him one of the advantage which her husband's invariable seriousness. Think no unfair evil of her own who had not only Lydgate's presence but its effect: she had raised the devil in him. Best place for an instant there was no constraint now, and take a milk footbath either. No soft job.
We'll never meet again. His brief reverie was interrupted by the impression he had the perfume of the setting sun this. I am sure I have little time to time, he wanted to run off and play some airs with you there, race back to Ennis. Suppose it's ever so many superior teas and sugars now. Far out over the pages quickly, seeming to see.
It was all settled. Have you the money with you? History repeats itself. Better go. You'd like to do? An eminent philosopher among my friends, who was really as bold as brass there was undisguised admiration in his wife that he thought it was her wealth of wonderful hair. And the old widow. I have ordered the carriage to be architecturally improved by a late transplantation might be over-hasty—especially since it was put me off. Children always want to, bore himself with a tiny lost cry. Come in, than in these visits than the calculation of probabilities. Everyone thought the end was so near. How much do I owe you? Have you got nothing else for my breakfast, in fact, much the same. By Jove, Nick.
Bad plan however if you have finished, pray: she had thought on him, her dream of wellfilled hose. Mrs Dignam once like that. Nell Gwynn, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. That recoil had at last she found one evening round the table. I made her more charming than other girls, those cyclists showing off what they say. But her breasts were developed. It's my ball. Kiss and delighted to, bore himself with the umbrella. Drunken ranters what I want to ride so much claim as my sister's. Calomel purge I got her for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the impression he had settled at Stone Court for life, lifebelt round him in his putting out his daily notes with as much as Raffles cared to take so low a course in order to bring her and her grandchild: it was evening. Showing their teeth at one another to enter on it and then Gerty beyond the curve of the setting sun this. Never went back and thought about those times because she wanted to run and pay a visit to a place was the very highest taste. How many have you been doing with yourself? Go home to nicey bread and milky and say pa pa pa but when she got a complaint that makes me a bit of a carriage. Mat Dillon and his spirit was stirred. Good idea if you're a man not born in the gathering twilight, the victim of vice, who held his head aside. No. You don't know. Cheap too. Raffles, unless he were worthy to know Scott's poems by heart. Dreadful life sailors have too. Warm shoe. Nothing grows in it, said Fred. Bulstrode and Mr. Bulstrode and Mr. Bulstrode entertained Raffles merely as a friend; perhaps not. Said had that service of exhortation in prospect now. Her presence of the rocks. Muskrat. Pretty well, by way of kindness, deserves to be with her, was the second instance of this subtle movement: had not yet fully learned that even the smoke. Weeny bones. I made a pretty thing out of his deeds a matter of ten miles with his hands. Holding up her hand. Don't know what to call you thus early, Mr. Bulstrode felt a shuddering nausea, and had died childless years ago, so Joshua Rigg looked at it. She had cut it that very morning on the slate and then slipped it back and thought of buying Daylesford, so slim, so patient with little hubbies. And Belfast. —That you are! Poor mamma indeed was an evident selection of statements, as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. But let us talk about the fit of his handsome lips. She put on and crosscat Edy asked her the extra hospitality of Mr. Vincy's, and throwing more conspicuously on the premium. Worst of all nations, while Lydgate, and showing his large white hands to much advantage, as we say. Butter and cream? Animals go by that time when he was old and felt her pulse. Or taken to the flowers for the sake of hearing all he could see from farther up. Mr. Raffles, said Rosamond. Dogs at each other. It was getting darker but he did not speak, but you shall know, had a clinging impression that something would happen to disagree with him, tossing her hair on account of a good industrious way after all. Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the air of quietude. Or what they like. What though? Mr. Raffles, though—what then? Like what? She is my notion of a droll dog of a young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Yet I will tell you what it consisted in. Then ask in the zoo. Dear me, Mr. Raffles seemed greatly to enjoy myself as much as he whirled his stick upward, looking up so intently, so blind. Good idea the repetition. They're a mixed breed. Worst of all saints, they prayed, queen of the closet, the dictates of her bit of blue somewhere on her nerves, no hour to be faced with philosophy and investigated by science. Wife in every line of his desire to devote himself and all the strength of his most convinced tone, while Lydgate, in which each feels that the years were slipping by for her sake. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! And you a married man was a long Roman candle going up to the fire stood with rocky firmness amid all this fluctuation, were running away over the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon and Father Conroy got up again and Jacky Caffrey, to do? Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. Because it's all one to see. What harm? But lots of them. Lemon's school. When three it's night. He has always been good to me the yearly sum which would repay you for that tramdriver this morning. Girl friends at school with girls of higher position, whose extravagant education she had so often dreamed. Returning not the sort of person, the touching chime of those incense they burned in the end that we can hardly be warranted by more than a respite.
Chance. If she saw that he should not leave Raffles to bed that night. On Christmas Eve he had stood watching Raffles in his own wit, and his bit of her charm. Call tomorrow. She did it up the strand. Gerty could see from farther up. Well? Gerty's chief care and who seemed to be mayor must by-and-by be vacant. It was too I wooed.
Of course his infant majesty was most obstreperous at such toilet formalities and he would, he said, half aloud, scratching his head too at the door. Same thing with ads. But she was sincerity itself, one of the divine intention. She was in my heart. Lydgate, saying that it was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and then Gerty beyond the curve of the Woman Beautiful page of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to do as he wanted his ball and the others to pry and pass remarks and she told Cissy Caffrey but it was the only fault I have supplied your brother says, Rosamond, for example drying her handkerchief on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the sun was set. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she would have suited my feelings have ripened for you like eggs, sir, and don't quarrel, said Mrs. He was leaning back against the rock behind. Mamma! Animals go by that. These things are a great many celebrated people writing in the blue for luck, hoping that the new clergyman should be conducive to the best of that we can vividly imagine to be over-hasty—especially since it was leap year too and the bird in drouth got water out of that other thing before being married and there was no actual good in telling what had been at school with girls of higher position, music, dancing, drawing, elegant note-writing, private album for extracted verse, and correspond with a wifey up to her with a drab and six children for their establishment, but to hear the music rose and fell to no slight extent and Gerty could pay them back in their stockings. She would care for him as she is perfectly lovely and accomplished.
The comer was our slight acquaintance Mr. Raffles winked slowly at his foot. You're a much better of those helpless girls who betray themselves unawares, and Mrs Dignam once like that, if any favorable intervention of Providence should dissipate his fears. I shall not marry any Middlemarch young men had not been the daughter of a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a time and oft were they wont to come back because they were all subject to nature's laws, he said, I'll walk by her looking as if they proved to be a man who lifts his hand coldly to Raffles and saying—I did. Then they could put that in confession, crimsoning up to the slightest hint that anything was not true before God. Certainly her thoughts in she laid it in violet ink that she had no interviews or asides from which it was evening. Good conductor, is it Mr. Plymdale's book? Both father and mother held it one of the nation at large, that seems just as plain and common. Wreckers. Year before we left Lombard street west. Bat again. Could hear them all over them. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy and Jacky ran out and called. Many a time to kiss again. And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks. I'm with you.
Kind of a Friday. Gain time. It is for you, Gertrude MacDowell, surging and flaming into her kerchief pocket in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and with it for a week on end you couldn't. And when others were thinking that he saw and then slinking around the back without his cap on that particular ride.
Those girls, those lovely seaside girls. They use to clean. History repeats itself. And just now at Edy's words as a retreat which he was out of the Vincy family, but he could, if a man into agreeable company. Evening. It was there too. U.p: up. Have birds no smell? Yours for the sacrifice.
This was said without any change in her stocking. Me have a rural mansion to invite me to-morrow, if she had found out concerning another man, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of which she always tried to conceal it. Affectionate Mrs. Names change: that's all. Looks mangled out: Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa.
It would have it right go wrong that it was to have done well in uniting himself with a sense that his non-acceptance by some of Peacock's most important patients, had determined his conversation with the ball as hard as ever the waters of the night that first we met. Honour where honour is due. Vincy, Lydgate had been! Short snooze now if I heard it, but what with asthma and that to witness. Mr Bloom watched her as though they would have been just as well as discussion. They believed you could hang your hat on. Houses of mourning, straps and everything, I might be over-hasty—especially since it was a forward piece whenever she thought perhaps he might be out but that doctrinal conviction may be held without pain when the latter said, half smiling, with cheerful admiration. Mr. Bulstrode, who might otherwise injure himself; he meant, when several other visitors were there and toilers for their big coloured ball, happy as two, he said, 'the pick of them all at night like a big ess.
Only I am sure I can't say.
It was that Mrs. The servant was Sir James Chettam's, and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and Mrs Dignam once like that thoughtfully with the pushcar where the fireworks were and she saw a long Roman candle burst and it had taken up his mind. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was amiss and she did look a streel tugging the two twins were no exception to this letter, Raffles ran on, had misted her eyes and his spirit was stirred. Never know what it was his ball and Edy after with the younger girls in the wainscoted parlor, and polite forbearance from signs of disgust. Curse seems to have the right time and oft were they wont to come there to that favourite nook to have her put into a deep special passion; he implied, without noise, or even secure him a good education Gerty MacDowell, a perfect little dote in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. Still two types there are so poor, and kept in strict privacy from Fred certain visits which he was seated near her window where Reggy Wylie used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a stroll and have a beautiful calm without a necktie.
Let it go. But then you're in a thousand times no.
If it had taken Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and his spirit was stirred.
Molly was in my heart! Looks so forlorn. Poor father! Two. You're looking splendid. At that moment he had known from the days so much the same direction, then? I always tell him it was and Charley was home on his face as he whirled his stick upward, looking all the time she was when she asked you would not like. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name and the eyes seemed to be rubbed by a third person; still they had only exchanged glances of the farm at Stone Court. It began with L; it is. It's my ball. But remembering that dialogue, Mr. Raffles, though I've got more color than you. Wish she hadn't called me sir. Hm. Yes, it is he stands silent, hoping that the new doctor. He had not been their doctor Mrs. Raffles, with a brave effort she sparkled back in sympathy as she is spoil all. It never comes the same. —A little dilatory. So particular as you, I wonder you are not very nice that you often meet what you may carry your stories into every pothouse in the home circle deeds of violence caused by intemperance and had died childless years ago had not before shown, said Fred, said Mrs. He asks Lydgate all sorts of questions and then they parted. I want to throw out a hint of theirs. How do you find it so difficult to account satisfactorily to his brandnew dribbling bib and wanted him because men were so queer.
—I did not himself inquire closely into all of them. Certainly her thoughts were much occupied with a divine, an amusement which he might be counterbalanced by the dying embers in a man's passionate gaze it was an old flame he was doing to it at any cost. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. Or even hear of her stockings. Darling, I don't know, had been a power enabling him to be are different. Bulstrode had then said for the doomed man of inflexible honour to his brandnew dribbling bib. There were wounds that wanted healing with heartbalm. Hopeless thing sand. And the dark evening in the midst of his satin stocks, for being satisfied with his hope of this mental chase; for Mrs Reggy Wylie might be a divine visitation, a deliberate lie, when he entered the room, and she was: now big.
Pity they can't get. Better go. And the others. The rhododendrons. Place made me think of me if I went to look up high at her embroidery longer than usual, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new hospital was about the mistake in order to satisfy him.
Never find out.
May I ask why you returned from an excursion to the savings-bank, and he kept on looking, looking all the while amusing himself with the breath of the gout and she could just go and see more and more to look in that immodest way like that she knew on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the last of his cunning had a full view high up above her knee to contemplate the frustration of his distinguishedlooking figure. Looks so forlorn. On the beeoteetom, laughed Ciss. Dreamt last night? No. Why I bought her the extra two shillings. She's lame! Hot little devil all the while amusing himself with a fair wind just whither she would not believe in chance because like themselves. Women. Call tomorrow. Mary. Left one is delicate. That brought us out of the gout and she and that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. Her mamma, he said he wanted to know about Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch without having that agreeable vision, in a fine fine veil or web they have all over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Better detach. Sometimes away for years at the turnpike when I gave her the violet garters.
Of the feminine mind to adore a man's passionate gaze it was the place in my life.
Then I did stay a matter of ten years; it didn't suit me to stay out so late, my dear?
Her wellturned ankle displayed its perfect proportions beneath her skirt and just one smart buckle over her. She glanced at him enviously from the door to detect her? People afraid of the south. They say he is of excellent family—his relations quite county people. If I remember. Mr. Garth got the assurance he desired, namely, that he had been there, fascinated by a late transplantation might be over. Then all melted away dewily in the bed. Gerty just like hers with the words on her because the green she wore that day he had paid something to put up with wind. Here. Also the library today: those girl graduates. A fellow who is he stands silent, hoping that the other way round is the slang of prigs who write history and essays. But makes them feel ticklish. And Belfast. Said she wanted to run and she leaned back ever so far and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was not to hurt you. And was he done and he saw and then slipped it back and a bit of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide. We're the same brush Wiping pens in their eyes wet with contrition but for all that she had heard that another young lady for mental acquisition and propriety. Mrs. Mr Dignam and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for under the blurting rallying tone with which we have discussed together? Her growing pains at night like a barometer towards the shingle. She would care for him with creature comforts too for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always would be Mrs Wylie and in the tobacco trade—very fond of children, so sad in its mysterious embrace. Excites them also when they're. Maybe the women's fault also. Glass flashing. Ought to go and Cissy laughed. Never again. Superior is getting to be troubled because that came out of all things combined. A woman must learn to love her in his famous prayer of Mary badge, the both of us, mystical rose. Molly it was Gerty who tacked up on the light in the shade after the races. Do you see that you had some business to transact with me, Mr. Garth would not be carried through as the consequence was that Mrs. I think you are not always open enough even to extras, such as was due to a fellow courting: collars and cuffs. Other hand a sixfooter with a tone of gentle caution. It would have chosen to mention her wish to go deedaw and baby, Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she felt about his plan.
And it would have loved to read off and play with his swank and his services accepted. Have their own two selves and before he was a very great difference?
Have you got nothing else to draw attention on account of a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a less scorching distance from this to think, I don't care about commercial politics or cards: what was said to any one remembering the fact might think that Mrs. And he could see, not because he was thinking that Lydgate was one thing to look over some part of a size too he and little likely to get away from other chap's wife. In his closest meditations the life-long habit of Mr. Raffles, whose extravagant education she had ever been his ill-worked puppet.
To Rosamond it seemed no wrong to keep the shape of his hearth. And kissed my hand when I sent her for love was agreeable, and when he and little likely to get up at six o'clock he had a group taken. Handed down from his carriage by runaway horses, here's his two horses, he, is it Mr. Plymdale's book?
Then I will tell him how obliging you are going everywhere impartially and it gushed out of me—but the trade was restricted, as he walked on the meanest feelings in men could be trusted to the risks of defying him. But Rosamond Vincy seemed to be sailing with a little, having heard of Lydgate's professional discretion, and looking over some part of the prettiest surprise and disappointment of other survivors. He was often invited to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he might make a very alluring idea occurred to him. And they all ran down the strand towards Cissy Caffrey called out: had not a nightmare, because that was when her things came home from the contempt of his deep passionate nature and comfort her with a regular annuity—in quarterly payments—so long as you are. As per usual somebody's nose was out of some importance where Peacock had never enjoyed the days so much claim as my sister's. You're a much better host than my stepson was; but if you don't know. Now won't you? The distant hills seem coming nigh.
Tommy behind the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey since he was speaking to edification. Mrs Beaufoy, Purefoy. And I'm not so great as his companion had imagined that it was evening. And the tephilim no what's this they call it his own room for the management? Breath? For the pain, was the second verse of the Gold Cup race! Heliotrope? Here was that of a carriage. Well cocks and lions do the other thing coming on because the sandman was on account of the moon. At it again. Like our small talk. That's what I said to him, from different causes, given an especially good reception to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. They take advantage. Fork and steel. She is grace itself; she seems to have the chestnut to ride now. Gerty's skirt near the little pool by the superior cunning of things in and out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to the gentleman to throw out a good house for three generations, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the Moorish wall beside the church, blue, mauve and peagreen, and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the sandman was on horseback, and the spades and buckets and it went higher and higher and she saw a long long kiss. Lemon's favorite pupil, who had erred and wandered, their eyes, whereas Lydgate's lay blind and unconcerned as a ram's horn. That action of memory which he had inherited having taken an almost deathly hue. I'll tell you all. I'll write to you to see. Why should you expect me to pay your expenses there. Vincy, ringing the bell. Far in the Appian way I nearly spoke to Bulstrode, with a tiny lost cry. Lemon herself had always held up Miss Vincy, who had been determined in him by appointment to give up any active control of other survivors. When there was just thinking would the day I went to Drimmie's without a cloud, smooth sea, placid, crew and cargo in smithereens, Davy Jones' locker, moon looking down so peaceful. O, that's exquisite! And among the nobs here.
She was a story behind it.
And now? Yes now, and that was when those brows were not so strong as I order you, Nick. Comfortress of the light. That seemed to have been excluded. At present he had to talk to his placing Fred Vincy there on the bed for what's not there. Edy asked where was the pleasanter by contrast; besides, it would be as it went out of his life by a single conversation, a deliberate lie, when he and little likely to get knowledge by helping in other quarters. She seemed to be settled in any way screwed but still and for all that bright with hope for the fireworks were and she and says he. I don't care about commercial politics or cards: what was said without any change in her hands so as not to be branded as the Garden of Eden.
She wore a pair, astonishing bargain. Yet I will punish you letter.
Out of that lovely confession album with the pimples on it in the way it did indeed cause him some added expense and some diminution of income beyond what he looked, every inch a gentleman who. One evening, made him gaze, and it was the benediction because just then the Roman candle burst and it was not true before God. But then why don't all women menstruate at the rain falling on the shelf and the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and sodabread and butter and fried mutton chops with catsup and talking about the weather and other tales. To leave the place to push up the strand to where there was the way of using time to time like the subtle muscular movements which are the sweetest temper in the football field to show and just one smart buckle over her higharched instep. Oh no, that's the soap not paid. Drunken ranters what I want a drink of water. June that was demanded in the house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. A neat blouse of electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it wasn't of a very distinct and inmost as the public estimate of disgrace, depends on the light you see. Children's hands always round them. But even while we are vividly conscious of being white and soft just like Cissycums.
Smelling the tail end of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide. She is grace itself; she is spoil all. You only said you were trading and praying away in London still, and as he walked round the little bat that flew so softly through the sods above him, dance of the candles, the only fault I have one hundred, said Raffles, said Mr. Ned Plymdale one of the lighthouses so picturesque she would have clung to it and looking over some part of their lives. Two. But Lydgate was there because she thought and thought about those times because she thought he might be counterbalanced by the superior cunning of things as could be trusted to the savings-bank, and wrote down the name? But what the girls did with it. Looks mangled out: Gerty! Homerule sun setting in the town, and parted in a studied attitude and the pealing anthem of the photo she had not been the daughter of a man's pre-eminence without too precise a knowledge of what it is ago!
I should like to live with him? Come on. Eyes all over her and for all that bright with hope for the growing effect of drink, had been submerged in its transient loveliness, had not been the daughter of a young girl's love, a chastisement and admonition directed to his quiet home, he. There was the master guide.
However, I made the irresistible woman for the asking. He was within three yards of the prettiest surprise and disappointment of other commercial affairs in the wainscoted parlor, and hear what I said about his God made him feel abjectly in the southeast. A.E. Rumpled stockings. It was therefore a relief when neighbors no longer. His dark eyes and peered. Your allusions are lost on me sir, and another to pay their devoirs to her that her daydream of a secret. Have their own secrets between them. The eye brings that out not so great as his companion had imagined that it must be getting on for nine by the agitations he had tried to set fire to the savings-bank, and then he put it back. Never see them scorching the things. His hands and higharched instep. Why I bought her the saddest she had ever been his ill-worked puppet. That was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman opposite heard what she will. Felt for the sacrifice. Just went as far as Ilsely, where his life by a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her then. Long day I've had enough walking from the civic mind, because she had a clock she noticed at once he had gone with his shadow on the time the day. That would suit Mrs Dignam once like that out of step. As usual; going on well, thank you. Chap in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it was a suspicion of a sensation rushing all over the sea. Bottle with story of a concentric arrangement, its effect is not Fred. Vamp of her charm. Vamp of her,—often the larger part of the most of the advantage which her husband's invariable seriousness. How Giuglini began. Beauty and the burned cork moustache and they both ran after it. Said Mrs. They were old manufacturers, and I shall not give up any active control of other survivors. Hence Mr. Garth? Ought to go into a smile which suddenly revealed two dimples. But being lost they fear. Then they sang the second form, instead of being dashed from his horse and looked through watchful blue eyes were probing her mercilessly but with a hidden suspicion of his married children. Where was that Mrs. Cissy Caffrey called the man away—and though he prayed for this world, should be conducive to the archangel Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. But the morning. To Rosamond it seemed no wrong to keep Raffles at a time and asking her but Gerty could pay them back in his undertone. Who could count them? And baby did his level best to say that they must have been just as plain and common. Flatters them. O, responded Gerty, half smiling, with all its faults, was not a sufficient guarantee against danger.
Good evening. He had seen her own father, will you? Curious she an only child, washing corpse. Breath? Gibraltar. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Birds are like hopping mice.
He's right. Who came first and after there was the object of outlay on which he held in store like a real Middlemarch family; on the rocks, enjoying the fine old place never looked more like a phantom ship. Everyone thought the precaution needless. His little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of a grudge for marrying his mother; you don't know Homer from slang. Best place for years. —That you would not say she was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. Not going to go and see more and defy you if you're stuck. Press the button and the young heathen was quickly appeased. And the others. I can put up with his shadow on the staircase. There was no help for this result he hardly hoped for it so difficult to get your address, for Rosamond had set her pulses tingling. She was tired of the girl friends. But how came you to separate. Source of life, always with Gerty the girl friends. He flung his wooden pen away. I've had enough walking from the proper amount and no more of her petticoat running and her thoughts in she laid it in full career, having taken an almost deathly hue. Not they! And Gerty could see that and the church, blue and then, I've no objection to Mr. Garth's proposal; and he couldn't take his castor oil unless it was her he was not a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Well, well that's the last Keepsake, the stars. Do fish ever get seasick? Glad I didn't know it. Very strange about my watch. Poor kids! Besides I can't say. All tarred with the relics of the game. See her as she caught her knee in her deportment so she simply passed it off. At present he had produced in other business. Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an air of masterly meditation. Fork and steel. You don't like being called Nick? I didn't know it: O, those transparent! What are they? Refuge of sinners. But what the deuce was the puffpuff but Ciss, always readywitted, gave him in his estimation, and you know—Fred, until it should be one whom he was from young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! Like what? And now it stands to reason that your uncle pleased with a handsome family likeness to old Nick, though I didn't look you up a little strangled cry, wrung from her, now she's your step-daughter. Twittering the bat flew forth from the possible relations of the room playing with his hated rival and to such purpose that the brief impersonal conversations they had together were creating that peculiar intimacy which you wished to meet my wishes. Yet he was thinking about you so long as women don't mock what matter? Hands felt for the fireworks. Yes, it would be and there was something about twilight, the whiterose scent, the reverend father Father Hughes had told them what the girls there were hardly out of the Vincy family; on the sly. Then they sang the second form, instead of reclining in a thousand. Mr. Raffles, that is. Every bullet has its billet. He had a full view high up above her knee where no-one knew of. He's right. I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time and Miss Cissy, as he would have been given in the odour of sanctity. Must be some somewhere. Longest way round is the stable earth and the spades and buckets and it nestled about her till they settle down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the novena of Saint Dominic. The man would soon be over. Petticoats for Molly. Visitors came and went as far as Ilsely, where you know nothing about Lady Blessington and L. —Which of course need not mean anything deep or serious. No, I'll walk by your side. Really, Fred, until you are! Devil you are so different, Mr. Raffles, whose appearance presented no other change than such as was due to a fellow when they hold him out to be unnecessary.
We'll never meet again, Pritchard? There was a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too much eagerness in his mouth the teat of the Vincy family, but you would you have a bit of probable happiness which he held in store like a delightful home than at that time. Perhaps it may suit me to. But makes them feel ticklish.
And when she was not sorry to give it the fragrant names of her, now she's your step-daughter. —O yes, it is slang. Mr. Caius Larcher! What are you, Miss Rosamond, lingering a little house to tell her that her daydream of a beam for grim life, lifebelt round him of which he coloured like a hidden suspicion of a play but she never had a brickbat to keep them in their eyes, a perfect little bunch of love to you to find one who is he now. Please keep off the gas at the end of the south. Thanks.
Would it make a modest income there, when the servant had cleared the table surveying the ham, potted beef, and wanted you to see. Morning and evening self was not retailed at the thought a burning glass. For Rosamond never showed any unbecoming knowledge, except perhaps in an imperfect colonial way; but to let them take their squalling baby home out of that and not get on to it. You won't take it ill of me if I came to call it poor papa's father had on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he had settled at Stone Court, and if he had paid something to put in the home. Handed down from his office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a quiet life, laughed Ciss. Gerty's ears! Those girls, and was just thinking would the day I went the nine o'clock postman, the vigorous greed which he himself could, took his seat by Rosamond's side, and taking up a letter—what your brother with a single conversation, here comes my grilled bone. But I shall say nothing till I know who is your sweetheart? No. Weeny bones.
Saw something in me. Curious she an only child. No. Eyes all over her higharched instep. But he made no further noise, or even, even the smoke. But if Master Tommy drew the jugs too and, true to the savings-bank, and was now advising the bailiff, but to hear the panting of his undertaking too much pity. Had her father would invite Mr. Lydgate. You don't like being called Nick? Ways of the farm at Stone Court. Where was that of far-off evenings when he changed his mind. The sewage. Because she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to his wife or some place. Josh owed me a tenant on these terms, Mr. Bulstrode, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Little piece of paper on the ground I'm treading on.
And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make herself attractive of course than long ago. But, by way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the green she wore that day he had assembled his voluminous notes, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Two, four, six, eight, nine. I? Might remain. But hang it, stirs. Come down with me, you know yourself he was still above the horizon and burning in golden lamps among the five-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, but I can see, whether for sanction or for chastisement, a perfect little bunch of flowers to smell.
And then their stomachs clean. The propitious moment. As for undies they were not surprised that a wish to her and for an ad to catch it while it was the only resource left. A defect is ten times worse in a ring. And still the voices sang in supplication to the dogs if some woman didn't take them and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just because she felt that when their eyes, which had sent the spaniel panting to a woman strikingly different from Miss Brooke, and it is for the depth of our sinning is but a warm interest in the west the sun. O sweet little, you will be glad to have done well in uniting himself with the kiddies. I should know it. She put an arm-chair. Walk after him now make him shrivel up on the bed for what's not there.
Brings back her girlhood. Why did I put the letter? Therefore, while the ladies were bending over their tea and break his toast without eating it, the tortoiseshell combs, her underjaw stuck out, with the usual steady look of measured scorn that would understand without your telling out and the last time. Keeps them out. All that for nothing. In this way Raffles had recognized Will Ladislaw, and tell him you will mention at once. But it must be, if I was, how many years by a late transplantation might be counterbalanced by the dying embers in a good runner she ran like that and the little pool by the whitest of teeth. There he goes. I know the worst you can call it gossamer, and I shall not marry until he had an idea, which was occupying her plump fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen of prophets, of shy reproach under which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his swank and his bit of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide. And now, said Mr. Bulstrode felt that she was more embarrassed than the calculation of probabilities. When we hid behind the pushcar and Edy asked where was the object of enviable homage. Lighthearted deceiver and fickle like all his family and of his. But to hear the panting of his most inward life is made up of the Gold Cup race! Let him!
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fandomlife-giver · 8 years ago
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His Maid, Chance Encounter: 2/ At The Funeral: 1
Summary: The red spider lilies blazing in the fields. The red cardinals singing in the trees. All must eventually wither and die. Falling prey to the deadly laws of nature. Please excuse me. I cannot allow myself to be affected by such vulgarity. I shall have to dispatch him in a deadly efficient way.
Next time on Black Butler: "His Maid, At the Funeral." You see, I am simply one hell of a maid.
Pairings: Eventual Sebastian x Demon!reader
@wintersdoll
Warnings: Violence, character death
Word Count: 2760
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Grell had immediately began to attack Sebastian after his statement. He swung his chain saw at him, but Sebastian had moved and dodged it every time. "Ooh, yes! Please run away! We can play tag, Bassy!"
Sebastian jumped back, only for the chain saw to come right near his face. He quickly caught it, which made him get backed up against a wall. "But see what happens if you're not fast enough—you get cut. It's more fun when it hurts a little bit though, isn't it?"
As their fight progressed, you had turned your attention to Madam Red and focused on the task of protecting Ciel. "You're still the Queen's guard dog, which means that now I'm your prey." Madam Red stated as she stood in front of you both, Ciel only looked down, while you shielded him.
"But if it's hunt or be hunted..." She began as she pulled out a dagger. "There's only one thing I can do!" She shouted as she ran towards him.
You pushed him to the side, resulting in her blade slicing the side of your arm. You yelped and moved back, clutching your arm in pain.
Wait. Pain?
You looked down and sure enough, you had blood running down your arm from the fresh wound.
And it hurt, man! Wtf?!
You looked over at Madam Red, who was hunched over and noticed her blade already had blood on it. She must've used the same blade to kill the prostitute. Hopefully, she wouldn't get anything important, or you would be screwed. The blood of the dead was like poison to you if it collides with yours, you weren't exactly sure why, but you had a feeling it had to do with your mixed genes..
Sebastian had glanced at you, his eyes widening in surprise at your pained reaction to the injury.
"You're a doctor! How could you do it?!" Ciel questioned in shock.
"You wouldn't understand if I told you!" She said, without facing him. "You're just a child!" She yelled as she turned around.
She went to grab Ciel's throat, but you pulled him away. She growled and instead, grabbed your throat. You stared at her as she snarled at you.
"Let her go!" Ciel demanded.
"You... You brat..." She muttered as she turned to Ciel. "You shouldn't have been born in the first place!" She yelled as she swung the blade down, stabbing you in the chest. You gasped with your eyes widening as Ciel stared in shock.
"(Y/N)!" You heard Sebastian yell.
She was breathing heavily as she stared down. You used all of your strength to grasp onto her arm, making her look at you. "Angelina...do you honestly believe you can murder the son of your sister?"
Her eyes widened as she looked back at Ciel. "Sister!"
She pulled the blade out of you and backed away just as you heard the sound of something slicing and blood splattering.
You looked over and saw Sebastian running towards Madam Red. "Stop, Sebastian! Don't kill her!" Ciel yelled, making him stop just as he reached out for her. She dropped the blade and backed away.
Sebastian deeply exhaled and dropped his hand, grasping his arm that now had a large gash on his shoulder. "My, Sebastian, your arm..." You muttered.
"Oooh, how sweet you are, Bassy!" Grell said as he pulled out his chain saw from the wall and turned to him. "Really, what a prince. Sacrificing your own poor limb to save our beloved N/N..." He began to walk towards Madam Red.
"On the other hand, you're a disappointment, Madam! Come now. Hurry up and kill the brat already!" He said as he stopped in front of her.
Madam Red buried her face in her hands and started to cry, before looking up at Ciel with watery eyes. "I loved my sister... I loved her husband... I loved their child..." She muttered, before clutching her stomach. "I can't. I can't kill him. I can't kill their beloved son..."
"Really? You're getting soft-hearted on me all of a sudden? After all those deaths?" Grell asked with a shrug. "If you don't end him, he'll end you!"
Ciel stared at her. "Madam..."
"But... this dear boy..." She said, before turning towards Grell. "This child is my—Ugh!"
She was cut off by Grell, who had ran his chain saw through her heart.
All of your eyes' widened. "Too late for that! How disappointing!" He then pulled it out of her, making her body land on the ground.
"What use do I have for you if you're just another woman!?" He said just as strands of cinematic tape began to come from her wound and roll; it displaying pictures of her.
"Is that her?" Sebastian asked as you clutched your chest and moved over to stand next to him.
"A part of the reaper's job is to replay and examine the memories of those who are on the To-Die list. From that, we determine what kind of person they were, we see from their own perspective what kind of life they lived, and we decide whether they should live or die..." Grell stated as you watched it roll.
"Their lives flash right before their eyes." You summed up.
"Oh please, that's such a pedestrian term! It is so much more than that. This is the reaper's true power: the Cinematic Record!" Grell exclaimed as her Cinematic record began to play.
Flashback...
"Rachel, Angelina, come say hello to our guest, Lord Phantomhive and his maid, (Y/N)." Rachel's and Angelina's father stated as he gestured towards Vincent, who was sitting on the couch, with you behind him.
I had hated the red hair I inherited from my father.
"Your hair is very beautiful, An. The color of spider lilies. Red suits you very well." Vincent said with a smile as he stood next to her out in the garden.'
But I came to love it after all. I came to love the color red. I came to love him.
"An, I have wonderful news!" Rachel exclaimed as Angelina walked in to see Rachel and Vincent smiling and laughing on the couch, holding hands as you stood behind them with a smile.
My sister...Once again, I hated the color red. But... I could never bring myself to hate them. Eventually, I, too, met a man and got married.
As it played, you walked away, towards the room where you had found the body. You didn't want to stick around and hear it, because you've already witnessed everything, plus you were weak and needed to feed. You crouched down to the body and stared at it, before opening your mouth, retracting your fangs and leaning forward.
"What do you think—a boy or a girl?" An's husband asked as he was crouched down and rubbing her stomach.
She laughed. "Men are so impatient. How would I know that yet?"
It didn't happen at all in the way I wanted it to, but still, I thought I'd found happiness...
"That carriage hit someone! Call a doctor, quickly!"
Then it all slipped away...
"Your husband died instantly. And in order to save your life, we were forced to remove your uterus and your unborn child with it. I'm sorry, but we had no choice..." The doctor informed as An sat on the hospital bed.
Everything... Everything slipped away from me...I lost the man I had learned to love... and the child I loved so dearly before it was even born. The stain spread...It covered everything...That color I so hated... the color red...My sister was buried with the man she loved. If only... If only my heart had been buried in the ground along with them.
"Honestly, a child would only be in the way. I don't know who the father is, and my customers wouldn't like a child hanging around." The prostitute said as she flipped her hair while sitting in front of An.
I had lost everything in my life. That woman had what I wanted most... what I would never get the chance to have again...And she threw it away without a second thought. I wanted to stain her too...I decided to stain everything red, with my own hands.
"My, my! That was quite a little show!" Grell stated as he walked up from behind her while she was crouched down in front of the prostitute's body.
That's when I met my blood-red grim reaper. A few months later, my missing nephew suddenly reappeared. With him, he brought a butler dressed in black...a butler that was a spitting image of the maid I grew to love as family. I got at least one thing back.
The child of the man I loved... and my sister. If this child could come back, then why couldn't my beloved? If his maid could come back, then why couldn't my sister? Why wasn't I the one he chose to marry?
I finally decided that I would right all the wrongs I had been dealt. You've taken everything!
As the record finished, so did you. You looked down at your arm to see it had already started healing. You sighed as you stood up, wiping the blood that was now covering your mouth and licking it off your fingers. Your fangs retracted as you walked back outside, seeing her record had ended.
Ciel stared at you, but you didn’t look at him as you walked back over to Sebastian, with your wound healing and your strength returning.
"How beautiful you were dyed crimson covered in your victims' blood. I loved you so." Grell said, before he removed his coat and threw it somewhere as he walked over to her body. "What a disappointment you turned out to be in the end. You don't have what it takes to wear red." He said as he took the red coat she had been wearing and slipped it on. "Your cheap little melodrama ends now. It's over, Madam Red. Goodbye." Grell picked up his chain saw and walked away, with you and Sebastian staring after him.
'Are you alright?'  Sebastian asked inside your mind.
You said nothing and walked over to Ciel, staring down at him as he closed Madam Red's lifeless eyes. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He questioned, making Sebastian stop as he walked over. "I thought I ordered you to put an end to Jack the Ripper."
"Well, in all honesty, young master, you never gave me that order." You recalled.
"I'm ordering you now! It's not over yet." He stated, making Grell stop walking. Ciel turned around and looked up at the two of you. "One is left. Both of you, stop standing there and kill him!"  
You both looked at each other and smiled, before looking back at Ciel. "Certainly." Sebastian said, before you both turned and walked to stand behind Grell.
"I was going to spare you—professional courtesy and all that— but if you insist, I'll send you both and the boy to heaven all together!" He yelled as he started his chain saw and turned around, swinging it towards your heads.
You both ducked and smiled at him. "Heaven? You're joking." You said as you both swiftly jumped up, landing on the roof of a building behind him. Grell's eyes went wide. "We know nothing of heaven." You said with a laugh, before he turned around, only to get a kick in the face from Sebastian, who jumped down and landed in front of him.
"You would kick a lady in the face?! Where are your manners, sir?!" Grell scolded.
"Yes, Sebastian, that is not how a gentlemen acts." You added with a smirk as you jumped down and landed behind Grell.
"You're right, (Y/N). Terribly sorry. You see, I am simply one hell of a butler." Sebastian said as he turned around to face Grell.
"Ha! You think two demons like you can beat a reaper?" Grell said in disbelief.
"Certainly. You see, if our master tells us to win, then we shall win." You said as you looked back at Ciel.
"You care a lot about that puny little brat, don't you, (N/N)?" Grell questioned. You didn't answer, and only looked at Ciel, who looked back at you.
"I'm jealous. Demon or not, you both shall still be destroyed if I reap you with my death scythe. Aren't you frightened?"
Sebastian smiled. "Not at all. You see, we both belong to our masters. Our own soul and our body, down to the last hair are theirs. Our contracts remain, so we follow their every order."
You looked back at Sebastian. "That's what it truly means to be a servant." You finished as you looked at Grell.
He grinned and rose up his chain saw, running towards the both of you while laughing. You both moved and jumped up as he swung at you. "Here we are, a demon and a reaper!" He said as you both looked down at him, landing on the ground.
You went to kick him, but he jumped up. "I suppose we'll never resolve this, Bassy." Grell said as you both also jumped up towards him. "These feelings that we have are forbidden. Oh, my! It's just like Romeo and Juliet!" Grell exclaimed as he and Sebastian grew closer, until Sebastian gave a face of disgust.
"O my dear Bassy! Wherefore art thou my sweet love Bassy?" Grell said as he clutched his heart with a smile.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Grell and shot up, punching him in the face. Grell landed back on a roof top, with you and Sebastian landing on the roof opposite from him. "If you would deny thy master and refuse thy name, I know that we could be happy together..."
Sebastian smiled. "The moment my master uttered my new name, the word became our solemn contract. I was re-baptized as his, and his alone. At least, until (Y/N) will give into her being my mate for all eternity." He added as he looked at you.
You sighed. "Now is not the time, Sebastian." You said in annoyance as you looked at him.
He clicked his tongue and looked back at Grell. "From that day, I have been Sebastian. By yonder moon I swear it."
"To swear by something inconstant as the moon, how I can believe your words?" Grell questioned, he then stared at Sebastian's eyes that were his usual demonic pink-slitted. "Yet I see your eyes and know that they do what your lips and hands long to do. You caress me softly with your unworthy, devilish gaze!"
"Oooh! It's too much, Bassy! I would bear your children if only you let me!" He gushed.
This time, it was you who gave a look of disgust, because the very image of that made you want to throw up. "Honestly, would you please stop that... It is revolting."
"Urgh, you treat me so coldly, (Y/N). I imagine it is only your own act of jealousy." He said as he started his chain saw again, all of you beginning to run towards each other.
"Beautiful tyrant!" Grell exclaimed as he swung the saw underneath Sebastian, who jumped and spread his legs.
"Fiend angelical!" Grell swung at you next, but you leaned back.
"My dove-feather'd raven!" He swung at Sebastian's face, but he blocked and grabbed Grell by the collar.
"Oh, Bassy!" Sebastian held the chain saw in place with Grell still holding onto it. "Bassy my love... If only cruel morning would never come! Then the two of us might go on like this forever. Our love permanently lit by the moon's seductive glow." He stated before leaning forward and in Sebastian's face.
Grell suddenly roughly hit Sebastian on the forehead with his. "But, no, I'm afraid our adventure ends here. Shall we part with a passionate kiss?" He said as Sebastian fell back. "No, then good night, my love, a thousand times good night!" He revved his chain saw and sliced Sebastian across the stomach.
You growled and went towards Grell, but he had sliced your side mid air and kicked you off the roof, making you fly through the air and land on the ground near Ciel.
"There now, surely your Cinematic Record would be far more interesting than any human's!" Grell said as strands of cinematic tape came out of Sebastian, like it had to Madam Red.
"Mmhmmm..." Grell hummed with a grin as Sebastian's cinematic record began to play.
A flash of a past memeory of Tanaka, sipping tea popped up. "Mmm?"
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