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akitokihojo · 3 years

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Monster - Chapter 1

And, here we go. Chapter 1 of this monstrosity (no pun intended) is now up and running below, on AO3, and on FF.net.

I'm going to be completely and 100% honest with everyone before you start reading, so please heed this warning! This first chapter is rough in the sense where it contains a bit of brutality and the death of a child. So far, this is the only gruesome chapter, and while the gore is NOT detailed, I still want my more sensitive readers to be wary.

This is the most action-packed fic I've ever written, and also the most expansive world I've ever built (in my humble opinion). With that being said, while the setting is a bit more on the historical side, there are plenty of modern references. For instance, not in this chapter but in future ones, a bathroom is just a bathroom. I don't mention plumbing or the lack thereof. My attention and energy was on more important things and I just didn't care about those details, lol. Additionally, a lot of slang, jokes, and references are fairly modern. Don't @ me (but also do). All-in-all, what I'm trying to say is I built my own damn world where there is no historical accuracy, so don't go looking for it, lol.

Unless otherwise stated, I plan to post each new chapter every Friday. So, yeah... I think that's all I've got to say.... have fun! Enjoy! Thank you for reading! Ily! Bon Voyage! Don't hate me!

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The responsibility is ours.

Kagome gasped as her feet slid in the mud, the small decline of the path she and her younger brother hurried down gradually becoming more slippery as the rain began to pour harder. Through the noise of the droplets and the sloshing of their boots, she heard a slight commotion; horses’ huffs, heavy feet, and boisterous men barking orders. Initially, she’d figured it was the village men ushering their families indoors, their livestock into barns, their carts and tools under shelter, and their firewood into a dry place as the storm reared its ugly head. The sunset sky was shadowed in gloom, thunder making it’s entrance in the far distance as it was bound to be banging on their doors and windows in no time. But, at the tug of her arm by her sibling, her attention was shifted to the actual cause of it all: Naraku’s henchmen.

“Again?” She shuddered resentfully.

“Third time this month.” Sota confirmed, clenching his jaw as he slightly tugged his sister behind his smaller frame. He was perfectly aware that he was only twelve, well in the know that he stood no taller than her shoulders, but he’d be damned if he did nothing because of it.

This time, there wasn’t a hoard of them. No, there were merely four, all of which were already off of their horses on the main path through their little village, making demands and threatening anyone who got in the way of their objective.

Throughout the last four and a half years since Naraku rose as a fearsome demon that easily brought down peaceful powers and attempted to control the world Kagome knew, she’d become more than familiar with this procedure. It wasn’t until just recently that they’d started coming more often than a monthly visit, though. And, it was no secret what, or who, they were after.

Her.

Anyone of her kind, really.

She was different. She was hunted. Those like her were supposedly powerful, but matters being what they were had caused anyone who shared a similar fate to subdue their abilities to the point of total lack of recognition of their true potential. At least, that’s how it was in most cases. Because, if they were found out, they were killed on sight. The reason for it was entirely unknown. Naraku didn’t just target them, though; he made everyone’s lives hell, especially if they stood out in a supernatural manner. So, while she figured there had to be a yet-to-be-identified reason, she felt it was safe to assume it was also just because he could. Maybe he didn’t like the threat of other, similar forces that could collide against him. Maybe he was egotistical enough to think he was the only deserving being. Whatever the case, he was cruel.

Kagome’s kind had several names through the decades - so many, she hardly knew the correct term for herself. At one point, ages ago, they were called banshees. The title didn’t make sense whatsoever, given their powers and what a banshee actually was, and the story was so old that she didn’t know where the justification even stemmed from, but it caused them to be feared, and for that, she honestly wouldn’t have totally minded if the name stuck around. They were called priestesses, but then it sounded too peaceful, too practiced, and it painted them as “good.” They were called witches, mages, sorceresses, but they committed no typical magic of that sort. Kagome didn’t know a single spell, nor did she have nearly enough time in the day to pack an array of herbs, spices, and what have you into jars that were sealed with candle wax - though she had caught wind that there were some older women of her kind with the ability to curse. Now, they were called conjurers. Their abilities were that of the spirit, aiding with protection, purifying dark forces - passively or forcefully, bringing forth light, and more she was sure.

In Kagome’s unpopular opinion, given what they could do and what they supposedly stood for, priestess was more suitable a term, but she also understood that there was nothing holy about the world they lived in.

There was no birthmark of the conjurer. There was no dead giveaway of their kind. The powers were gifted at random, as far as she knew, not passed down through lineage. The only thing Naraku and his followers seemingly had to go off of was that conjurers were born female.

Sometimes, they’d conduct their mission by way of senseless inspections. They’d rip apart the insides of homes looking for all the wrong things in all the wrong places. Truthfully, with how absurd they carried themselves, it was obvious they didn’t know the telltale signs they were looking for and were wasting their time. Which was what made it clear that for them to be so clueless, even Naraku didn’t know all there was that made up a conjurer. They were ignorant and they were blind, but they were also relentless and ruthless.

The days where they singled women out were the worst. Kagome, so far, was spared that cruelty, but that didn’t make it any better. It was usually the more mature, the elderly, that received the short end of the stick.

More often than anything, they’d line up every woman and girl in town and go down the rows one-by-one, stimulating their nerves in one way or another to see if they could get a “conjurer’s reaction.” Kagome could only guess that meant a sudden surge of purification power. It was the main trait conjurers were known for; but they were going about it wrong. Screaming in their faces, threatening everyone, or jostling them around a bit wasn’t going to get the demons purified, no matter how much she wanted to toss something their way. Of course, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell them that.

Every so often, they’d come in a pack and create havoc with violence. They said it was their way to pressure people into giving up any information they might have, but in all honesty, the smiles some of the brute demons wore said they were bored and simply wanted a little entertainment. Apparently, screaming and pleading were equivalent to a musical number in their bloodlust eyes.

Their own little group of demon slayers that resided in the village helped prevent this from happening when they could, which was why the henchmen came in numbers. The demon slayers fought for a sense of control, not to kill. They would only allow so much, but belligerent violence was not an option. It was obvious that, as of late, their village was a targeted spot, one that got a little more attention than neighboring towns, and for what reason, no one knew. They didn’t have the fighting power to win that sort of fight, though, and the leader of the group of slayers was sensible enough to understand this and explain it to the masses that questioned them. They were made up of a handful of men with rigorous combat skills they didn’t learn from home, refused to take recruits below a certain age, and could only train so many at a time. As much as they’d all love to retaliate and end things for good, intuition was telling them not to in that manner. Even Kagome felt that. Deep in her gut, she knew that even if they could, killing them would only put the people of the village in a worse position. This wasn’t something that would stop by taking out the underlings. Not at all. Far from it. Anyone who was paying attention could see that they’d need to exterminate the head honcho in order for any positive difference to be made.

Unfortunately for them this time around, their little pack of demon slayers had left on a request to take care of a troublesome demon a little ways off just that morning. And, listening to the henchmen now, seeing them in their dark leather, their cloaks, feeling their dangerous energies wafting through the streets of their little town, Kagome could tell that they were going to do whatever they wanted tonight, despite the fact that it was just the four of them. It wouldn’t be horrible, and would most likely be a lineup, but they were definitely going to take their sweet time and see who they could break.

“There’s still time. They haven’t noticed you. We can hide you.” Her younger brother said, his tone more on the convicted side as opposed to suggestive. He should have known she wouldn’t have gone for it, though. So long as every other woman and girl had to stand in front of their villainous promises and vile breath, so long as her mother had to keep a straight face, Kagome would always stand there with them. She’d made a promise to her brother, her older cousin, and especially her mom that she’d never willingly out herself for no reason, but she just couldn’t bring herself to hide when everyone else had to stand through their harassment. She swore that if the demons were ever convinced an innocent was a conjurer, that was the reason to give herself over.

Never would Kagome allow another to mistakenly go down in her stead.

No one but her family knew of her powers, and until necessary, it would stay that way. According to her cousin, the more people that knew, the increased danger she was in.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She shook her head, minding her steps through the small slope of mud as she gently pulled her arm out of Sota’s grip.

“Miroku would say the same thing if he were with us.” He argued.

“Yeah, well he’s not. In fact, he’s probably getting himself into trouble by picking a fight with one of those goons.”

“Kagome, I have a bad feeling about this. Come on, just listen for once.”

“Okay,” She stopped, turning around to challenge his look. “Say something bad is going to happen. Knowing these assholes, you really think my absence will stop that?”

“No, but -“

“Right. They’re going to do something no matter what, correct?”

“Kagome -“

“And then what?”

“And then they’re wrong, but they didn’t get you.”

“How is that fair to the person they might hurt?”

“That person isn’t my sister.”

“What if it’s mom?”

Sota’s eyes slighted to the side, a heated huff leaving his lips just before he begrudgingly sealed them. His jaw clenched minutely as his head gave a little shake, brown eyes once more meeting his sibling’s. “Miroku and I will protect her.”

Kagome gave a fed up smile, sighing, rolling her eyes, and turning back on her heel to continue toward the main path. Families came out of their homes dressed in cloaks as they prepared to, once more, be harassed until Naraku’s men exhausted themselves, husbands and male relatives holding resentful expressions as they guarded their female family members until they couldn’t any longer.

“Kagome!”

“Sota, quit it. The louder you are, the more suspicious we become.” She quietly warned. Kagome heard her brother’s aggravated grumble before he jogged forward to catch up, his demeanor holding much like every other male in the village.

No one’s feet rushed toward the excitement. The tension of the town was up so dramatically that Kagome could physically feel the crushing weight of it all, the anxiety as they made their way closer to their disgusting visitors was causing her stomach to bubble and waver, and her throat constricted nervously as she and Sota finally met up with the crowd, her brown eyes scouring over shoulders to scout out her family. Sota’s hand encircled her wrist firmly, tugging her to the right as he found them and guided her over. Miroku stood tall in front of their mother, brows noticeably creased and indigo eyes straight ahead until he’d caught their movement in his peripheral vision. Immediately, his posture squared further, as if enlarging his shoulders so that he’d be able to successfully hide both Kagome and his aunt behind his frame. Her mother held out her hand for Kagome to take as soon as they were close enough, a peaceful smile unsurprisingly gracing her lips while she pulled her in, shoulder-to-shoulder. Somehow, no matter the circumstances, she always did her best to calm Kagome’s nerves with the simplest of sweet gestures. Sota took his spot before them, influenced by Miroku’s stature as he replicated it.

Allowing herself a brief moment, Kagome bowed her head further, bracing it on her older cousin’s shoulder. She shut her eyes, inhaling slowly, deeply, attempting to release her trepidation with a long and heated exhale before composing herself and straightening out.

“- But this is too much! Why the hell are you back again!? There’s no conjurer in our village! Don’t you fucking get that by now!?” A man shouted, livid, and it was evident she and her brother had missed the beginning of the argument playing out in the center of the uneven circle created by people.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” One of Naraku’s men yelled back.

“Not until you tell us why you’re back for the third time!”

“Would you rather we made ourselves at home!?” Silence from the opposing man answered his question clearly. “That’s what I fucking thought.” He spewed, and Kagome could hear the spittle fly out as he cursed. His attention returned to the general public, his tone shifting from vicious to gruff as he made his command. “Only girls ranging from ages five to twenty, line up! Now!”

Increased unsettlement coursed through the crowd, mothers and fathers clinging to their young daughters, little girls’ fearful whimpers polluting the air as they hid their faces in their parents’ legs, and even Kagome’s own mother’s hand tightened her grip as a breathy gasp left her lips - understanding that this meant her eighteen year old daughter was being sent into the fire without her. They were narrowing down, slimming the numbers, and the small smiles on the villains’ faces made Kagome assume that something last time may have tipped them off to lessen the demographic.

“What do I do?” Kagome whispered to her cousin, failing in her attempt to hide the sudden panic striking her.

“Nothing. You do nothing.” He urged quietly, shifting his head to look into his younger relative’s eyes. “Listen, Kagome, treat this like routine -“

“This isn’t routine.”

“Treat it like it is. Keep your head down.”

“If they -“

“No.”

“But, they’ll -“

“Kagome, no. You made us a promise.” Miroku reminded firmly, knowing exactly where her mind was traveling. In the case of an incident, which there seemed to be a higher chance of this time around, she may need to intercede.

She took a deep breath, straightening her face as much as possible so Naraku’s men wouldn’t grow suspicious as they impatiently yelled again for the girls to gather before them. “If this means they suspect something -“

“It may just be a tactic they’re using. For all we know, they have nothing and could leave here with the same. So, treat it like routine. Okay?”

“Promise.” Sota insisted during Kagome’s silence. The mens’ barking got louder, more demanding, as did the crying of little girls being pulled away from their parents. With the building weight in her chest, like a liquid filling her lungs quickly, the density making it almost impossible to take full breaths of air or move without falling forward, all she could muster was a meager nod before forcing herself to walk out. Miroku and Sota both leaned to opposite sides to part their shoulders for her to move through, her mother’s soft hand still lightly holding her own until she was far enough for their fingers to slide away from each other’s.

At most, there were about twenty girls in that age range to offer, and Kagome’s brown eyes drifted over the uneven row of heads as she approached, finding her friend in the mix trying to calm the little girl beside her. Sango glanced her way, as if feeling Kagome’s eyes on her, giving an apprehensive grin and waving her over.

“Ready?” Kagome asked, though it was completely rhetorical. It was just habit for these things. It was unavoidable, unexpected, and overall, impossible to be ready for. But, when they bounced the question off of each other, it was like one final reminder to stone.

Sango knew. Sango and her family were the one exception to the familial rule. She was Kagome’s closest friend and Miroku’s significant other. She was more than trustworthy. And, more importantly, had known since Kagome accidentally found out, herself, as a kid. Because, that’s how it was being a conjurer. You weren’t born knowing. You didn’t have an outward appearance that proclaimed your status much like demons did. It was always an accidental happenstance; in her case where she put a little too much oomph into her bow and arrow lessons and purified the evil - and life - right out of a passing crow demon after missing her target.

She remembered the feeling of total surprise, then tremendous fear because she thought she’d be in a lot of trouble. Kagome had literally thrown her bow to the ground like the thing, itself, was the culprit of the power. Miroku was gawking, Sango was covering her mouth with both hands, and their dad’s shared an identical, tight-lipped expression. Her papa was motionless for an overwhelmingly-tense sixty seconds before shifting his wide, curious eyes to her.

“Did you know you could do that?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, daddy.” Kagome innocently answered, but she could feel the red, hot heat in her face from her lie. She was awful at those when it came to the people she was close to. Still was to this day. Give her a stranger and she could keep it straight, but in the face of friends and family, she cracked almost too easily. It was a guilt thing.

But then he’d laughed, ruffling his little girl’s hair before reassuring her that it was okay. He said they’d just have to go about her training a little differently from that point on to make sure accidents like that didn’t keep happening, and it was only because of him, his adventurism, his accessibility to knowledge from his travels, that she even discovered what she was in the first place.

Back then, though it wasn’t quite as dangerous to exist as a conjurer, her papa had still suggested they keep her abilities under wraps. She distinctly remembered binding that with a pinky promise after Sango’s dad had a private discussion with her own. Maybe it was because Sango’s dad was even more educated with the world, and knew the potential hardships that could come her way, being the leader of the demon slayers that he was - and still is. Honestly, the reasoning was hard to determine now because she didn’t put much thought into it when she could and should have. Being the young, spunky, loyal girl that she was, if her dad wanted her to keep a secret and held out his pinky to her, that was all the reason Kagome needed, and nothing pleased her more than making her papa proud. And, when he and her uncle were fatally wounded in a demon attack on their village, even though Naraku’s name had never once yet been muttered near her ears, he still made her do one final pinky promise to him saying, “Protect yourself for me, my little bird. Keep it in its cage. I love you so much, Kagome.”

She wasn’t even a teenager when that had happened. There was a part of her that wondered here and there if he was secretly clairvoyant, or if he merely studied the patterns throughout history of people of her kind and wanted nothing more than to keep her safe and make her life as easy as possible, given the reputation they had, their ever-changing titles, and the ignorance others had of their nature. If only he knew where she was now. Would he still ask his little bird to stay in the cage while the door was wide open?

“Ready. You?” Sango returned, standing straight and allowing the little girl to cling to her leg.

“Ready.” Kagome breathed.

Those not lined up hesitantly backed away, creating space and growing agonizingly silent as they seemingly held their breaths for those that were chosen. Kagome hated when they did that. It was like she could physically feel the onlookers’ anxiety, and it was the last thing she needed on top of that of those actually subjected and her own.

The four men walked back and forth, up and down the two rows of girls, criminal eyes taunting them with silent threats and menacing grins. It was creepy, but no longer was it fear-inducing. Kagome had a bad habit of not shying away anymore. Sure, she was nervous beyond belief, but the last thing she was afraid of were their snarls, scarred and dirty flesh, and crooked teeth. That, of all things, was the least intimidating factor for those who were calloused to the routine.

But, when an abrupt instruction was given by the leader, her already-loose expectations of “routine” fell apart completely.

“Hold out your left hands, palms up!”

Confusion soared through every individual, and Kagome met Sango’s brief side glance, minutely comforted by the fact that she wasn’t the only one without a clue as to what was going on. Questions weren’t allowed though, and even the little ones were well aware of that, so as the small group of men demanded everyone shut up and do it, all outward bafflement dissipated.

Slowly, Kagome raised her left palm, her arm outstretched, swallowing as she willed the slight trembling to cease. Brown eyes searched quickly as she waited for whatever to begin, weeding through the crowd and finding Miroku already pinning her with a stare. It was wary, but hard, his jaw visibly tense.

The sound of an unsheathing blade was unmistakable, and immediately Kagome’s attention bounced to her left where the leader danced the grip of a knife in his fingers, his lips curved downward into a permanent frown. The first girl in line couldn’t have been any older than fifteen, noticeably shaking as her anxious stare bounced from the man to the blade.

A man in the crowd began shouting, stirring, pushing forward through the heap of villagers to reach the forefront, “Hey! No! What are you going to do!? That’s my daughter; what are you going to do!? Don’t you dare touch -“ Abruptly silenced by a defensive elbow to the diaphragm, gifted by an all-too-fast demon.

The young teenager shuddered, not sure what to worry about first as the leader gave her no moment to react, grabbed her hand, extended it further, and gave a small slice with the tip of his knife to the center of her palm. She winced, a whimper easily escaping her mouth from the sharp pain, tears leaking from her eyes quicker than the blood that seeped from her laceration. And then he grabbed her hand in his, sealing their palms together as he stared her in the eyes for a moment. She was utterly terrified, wanting to pull away while knowing she shouldn’t, but as nothing else happened, the man released her, murmuring to stay in line as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his blade, his hand, then moved onto the next.

Kagome’s attention snapped back to Miroku as it dawned on her, his eyes holding the same idea as he gave a steady but stern shake of his head in retort. They were looking for the untrained conjurers. The conjurers who weren’t skilled in holding back. Everyone was already scared, and the wound inflicted a heightened sense of fight-or-flight. Then their hands gripping the victims’ - their demon hands against the victims’… they were working to spark a purification reaction, and they were going about it right this time. It wouldn’t be strong enough to kill them, nothing that small or unsuspecting would be, but it would hurt - much like the notorious fairytale of a vampire taking a quick step into the sunlight before swiftly turning around and heading back inside. And, that was all they needed.

Unbeknownst to everyone but Sango and Miroku, Kagome wasn’t completely helpless. Not only was she well-versed in subduing her powers, but alternatively speaking, she could knock a guy completely on his ass. She’d practiced. She’d practiced for hours at a time for several years now to see what she could do, what sort of strength she possessed, all on the far outskirts of the village, hiding near caves with only her friend and cousin who'd agreed, despite promises and secrets, that they all should try to be prepared for anything. By no means was she an expert, but she could handle her own for the most part and a situation like this was something she’d been well-conditioned for, for quite some time now.

Especially since she’d first received that message in a dream.

The responsibility is ours.

Whatever it meant, no matter how bleak it felt, it was a no-brainer that Kagome couldn’t go on without some sort of knowledge of her own potential.

She took a shallow breath, diverting her gaze to the goon before her as he happily took out his own blade, the other two following suit as they set out to narrow the time this was going to take. He stepped forward, grasping the wrist of the frightened and resistant girl beside Sango, who Sango had to hush into calming, telling her it would be done quickly. When nothing gratifying came from the occurrence, the man moved on to Sango, pinning her with a glare that she challenged right back. She hardly flinched at the slice of her skin, brown eyes never leaving the demonic ones of her assailant. When she shrugged a brow as he clasped their hands together, Kagome could practically see the heat rising in the man’s body language, quickly fuming from how audacious Sango was acting - which Kagome couldn’t help but respect, not knowing if the chuckle she forcefully swallowed was one of matched humor or nervousness.

The man threw Sango’s hand to the side, merely wiping her blood from his palm and blade on his pants before vehemently grabbing Kagome’s and extending her arm completely, bringing an inadvertent gasp to escape her throat. As the tip of his knife pierced her palm, dragging slowly to create a burning gash - one larger than Sango’s, so she suspected her nonchalant pass of amusement wasn’t as admissible as she’d thought - Kagome couldn’t stop the hiss that slid off her tongue, her brows creasing and jaw dropping as crimson dripped from her hand to the mud. With a clap, he pressed his palm to hers, fingers squeezing her small hand with unmitigated pressure. She felt a flurry in her abdomen, her diaphragm, her chest, warmth that drove her power, and that was her cue to hold her breath, to pretend everything was fine, to tell herself she was safe and trick her mind when she really wasn’t. She pretended she was holding Sota’s hand - the first person that came to mind, and the least intimidating one that she knew. Sota as an adult whose hand was finally bigger than hers. She couldn’t help but feel this was a huge insult to her younger brother, so she subconsciously apologized as she continued her visualization. It was like a lump built in her throat, the kind that grew too difficult to swallow, but she also felt completely in control, returning the man’s stare before he dropped her hand and moved onto the girl beside her.

“Shh,” Sango gently hushed the small child. “Everything’s fine now, but you have to stay quiet. Give me your hand.”

Kagome slowly let out her captive breath, the air she sucked in to replace it cold and not the least bit comforting despite the danger she’d evaded. She kept her palm face up but closer to her heart, cradling it for a moment as she tried to ignore the searing pain, diverting her attention to Sango and the kid. Her best friend was already looking up at her, using the long sleeve of her shirt to clean the blood from the girl’s hand and apply pressure so it’d stop bleeding, never minding the bleeding of her own palm. Thankfully, it only looked to be a little knick, and Kagome wondered if the creep of a demon that had handled them secretly had a soft spot for children.

“You okay?” Sango silently mouthed to Kagome. She nodded in reply, picking up the bottom hem of her own shirt and pressing it to her wound.

A sudden, deep, and broken yell punched through the air as one of the demons stumbled away, his hand yanked back, fingers furled in offense, and face twisted in rage. A little girl shrieked as he lunged forward, grabbing her by the collar of her cloak and pulling her out of the line, her feet stumbling to keep up as she cried apology after apology.

No. Conjurers weren’t common; now more than ever. How could there be two in one village? Especially one as small as theirs? How could there be more than one not even miles apart? How did Kagome not know? Didn’t conjurers have the ability to sense one another? She’d only assumed that was the case because of the seemingly-prophetic dreams she’d been having; because of the woman that had been coming to her in those very dreams. It was a weak hypothesis to go off of, but it was the only answer that made sense to Kagome. But, now there was a child being dragged into the center of where the town congregated, begging and pleading for her life while her mother screamed from the sidelines where she was being held at bay, and Kagome was none the wiser to her existence.

She wanted to yell that they were wrong, but how could they have been? It was a physical test. The accidental reaction of her powers was a dead giveaway. They couldn’t even lie their way out of this, or pretend the allegation was false. She was a conjurer. And they were about to kill her.

Kagome’s heart twisted and bunched painfully, that hard lump once more building in her throat, a murmured, “no,” barely leaving her parted lips, and her brown eyes caught a pleased grin on the approaching leader’s face that, just moments ago, seemed stuck in a scowl. He twirled his dagger in his fingers before kneeling down in front of the weeping girl.

“Found you.” He snickered, plunging the blade into her abdomen.

“No!” Kagome gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth in shock. The village was alight with terror, screams, cries, the rumble of defeat, the wailing of a grieving mother striking over all other sounds. Still, she was withheld from her little girl, reaching for her over the shoulder of the unforgiving demon who kept her away.

The knife was yanked free of the girl’s gut and she fell to her knees, her hands braced before her stomach as crimson crawled out, staining the front of her rain-soaked dress. Small hands weakly pressed into her abdomen, the wide look of horror, of pain, of fear etched into every inch of her expression as she gasped tremblingly. All too easily, the leader stood and walked away, not an ounce of remorse displayed.

“She was… she was just a kid.” A sympathetic village man stated morosely. “She wasn’t even ten yet.”

“She wasn’t dangerous!” Another testified.

“Would you like to be next?” A demon threatened, thinking his raised voice would retain order.

Kagome could hardly breathe, tears burning and brimming at her lower lid. All she could think to do was try to stop the bleeding, try to save the child, her feet moving on their own accord as she rushed out of line. Beyond the anger building in the crowd, the yelling growing louder, and the intense disturbance increasing rapidly and overwhelmingly, Kagome heard her name called multiple times. But, she couldn’t bring herself to listen, to stop, as she skidded to her knees in the mud, her arms catching the little girl as she fell forward. Her mother was finally freed, racing over and falling to the ground at her child’s side, helping through her weeping to lay her on her back.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.” She soothed as best as she could, hovering over her daughter's face so the rain wouldn’t hit it, shaking fingers pushing sopping hair from her cheeks.

Kagome grabbed the length from the girl’s cloak that stuck out on her side, bunching it and pressing firmly into the wound. The choked gasp that came from the kid was agonizing, and Kagome apologized profusely, blinking away her own tears as she whipped her head around to take in the rousing group of people, fury evident in their tones, in their bodies, as they returned threats with the offending demons.

“Where’s the doctor!?” Kagome asked as loudly as she could, her soaked, dark hair whipping her in the face as she spun her head around to try and find their town's self-proclaimed physician. “Help! We need help!”

“He isn’t here; he left for herbs yesterday.” Sango informed as she dropped down beside Kagome.

“And he still isn’t back!?”

“The storm must have delayed him.” Sango shook her head in response, her brows creased together as she glanced over her shoulder to quickly mind the budding commotion before turning her worried expression back toward the crying child. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“I don’t - I don’t know.” Kagome stammered, her breathing growing heavier as she panicked, noticing the blood was barely halting, the stain in the girl’s dress expanding and absorbing through the cloth she pressed against the wound.

“Apply pressure!” Miroku instructed when he slid to his knees in the mud on their opposite side, careful of the girl’s mother.

“I am!” Kagome cried.

“Stay with me, baby! Stay with me! I’m right here, look at me!” The woman coo’d, sniffling and gasping with her tremors while the comforting smile never left her lips.

“Hey! Leave her! Let her die, or we’ll kill you too!” One of the vile men demanded, though his shouts went ignored, easily drowned out by the encroaching, enraged men who finally appeared fueled enough to physically challenge them. Kagome could only hope they’d hold the demons back so they’d have the chance to save her.

“Here, let me see!” Miroku pushed Kagome’s shaking hands away, pulling aside the cloth of the cloak to take a peek at the wound in her stomach. Kagome had to look away then, the sight of the thick blood seeping through too much to handle. Instead, she focused her attention on the little girl, crawling up to hold her cold, bleeding hand.

Scared, pained, blue eyes focused on Kagome as she took shuddering breaths, her chest convulsing slightly as her small voice broke with her cries. Little fingers softly gripped her hand in return, and the tiniest of smiles curved her lips upward, light beginning to dim from her irises.

“Miroku!” Kagome urged. She glanced back at him and noticed the hopeless expression on his face. One that claimed there was nothing anyone could do. Her heart dropped, a nauseating weight filling her stomach. Quickly, she turned back to the little girl, leaning an inch closer. “Kikyo and the other conjurers, they’re gonna win, okay? We’re gonna win. I promise.”

“Who’s…”

“You! What did you just say!?” Heavy steps sloshed in the mud toward them, his voice low, growling, dangerous.

Kagome had spoken up to be sure the girl had heard her over the yelling, but she hadn’t realized that it could have been heard by anyone else. She didn’t think about the ramifications. She didn’t think. She’d just wanted to fill the child with some form of final hope. What was wrong with that? Was it the fact that she’d said Naraku would fall?

She’d hardly had enough time to turn and react before she was grabbed by the hair and lifted to her feet, yelping as she was dragged back and away.

“You mentioned Kikyo!” He exclaimed, giving a forceful yank as Kagome loudly gasped from her constant stumbling, the pain on her scalp, the fear racing through her. In the thick of it, she’d forgotten Kikyo wasn’t a person who was widely known. She’d forgotten Kikyo was a secret beacon of hope to the surviving conjurers, who appeared in dreams and spoke in riddles.

“No!” Was all she could manage to reply, screamed brokenly, heard clearly throughout the number of villagers around as the action died down and all attention was on them.

“How do you know her!?”

She yelped again, forcefully pulled backward and released to only trip and fall over some tools.

“Tell me, wench!” He demanded, picking Kagome up by her throat and slamming her back against the wall of a home.

“I don’t!” She adamantly swore, still able to speak. His grip was there, but not choking.

“Liar!” He said, slapping her hard across the face. “How do you know Kikyo!?”

“I heard of her in passing!” Kagome cried, wincing from the sting before she was forced to look at him again.

“I find that hard to believe.” He growled, inching closer to her face. His hold on her throat tightened, cutting off air, thick fingers pinching painfully into the sides of her neck. “Where is she?”

“I - I don’t know.” She sputtered, wheezed, her tears hot as they glided down her face. The rain was nothing but a drizzle now, though the distant sound of thunder roared angrily. She was both cold and hot, her lungs begging for air as his hand pushed further against her windpipe.

“Stop it! Let her go!” Miroku barked, and his presence was just enough to distract Naraku’s henchman and cause him to release some tension from her throat. Kagome greedily sucked in as much air as she could, though he still constricted his fingers against her. It was like breathing through a straw.

Her cousin stood there, dark hair sticking to his temples, bloodied hands braced before him as if to reason. “She doesn’t know anything; she just told you!”

“Oh, another tough guy?” A demon behind him chuckled. “A little scrawny for that, don’t you think?”

“You have me wrong, I don’t want to fight. Release my cousin, and we’ll back away peacefully. She meant no harm.”

“The harm was done when she stepped out of place to save the girl!”

“She was a child!”

“She’s a conjurer! She has no place in this world!”

“She did! She did have a place in this world, and we all know it!”

“You best shut the fuck up, boy.” The leader said from the sidelines. “Word may carry that you’re on their side. Now, you wouldn’t want that. Would you?”

“Tell him to let go of her.” Miroku sternly ordered.

“Back off.”

“Let her go!”

“Suit yourself. Have some fun.” Their leader flicked a finger at the two other demons, allowing them to do as they pleased.

Miroku hissed a low, “Fuck,” before dodging a hit from one of the two demons enclosing in on him. He was able to throw one of his own, nailing an ugly bastard in the face before he was grabbed from behind, bulky arms wrapping under and over his shoulders to hold him in place. The other demon was eager while he arrogantly approached in front of him, smiling as he punched Miroku in the stomach.

“Stop! Miroku!” Kagome squirmed against her own offender’s grasp, her instincts beginning to kick in as she felt a wild sensation build in her veins. Something righteous whispered the power she held in her ear, told her to use her abilities to save her cousin, further fueling the heat that made her forget about the nip in the air.

“Kagome, don’t!” Miroku coughed, pinning her with his indigo gaze before his eyes pinched shut from a swift hit to his diaphragm, blood dribbling over his bottom lip and down his chin.

Control sucked Kagome back to the present, the earnest crackle of Miroku’s voice ringing in her ears and overpowering the one that told her to fight. The grip against her throat tightened again, closing off her air passage as red eyes turned back to her, the lines of his frown deep.

“Don’t, what?”

Kagome wasn’t sure if he actually expected an answer or not, but he’d made it physically impossible. She clawed her nails along the thick skin of his large hand, trying to pry him away so she could breathe. It was dire that she didn’t use her powers; she understood this. But, as the adrenaline raced violently through her body, it was growing increasingly harder to keep it subdued. She’d be killed in a heartbeat; she’d already witnessed their unforgiving lack of hesitation. Her mother and younger brother would have to watch. Her cousin, too. She’d promised everyone she would protect herself, and she'd promised herself that she would protect them. Above all that, a different, deeper, more rational voice spoke to her, drowning out the one that told her to take action just a moment ago, telling her that her fight was meant for somewhere else. Something bigger. She could practically feel the breath hitting her ear, urging her of the importance. It told her to swallow it, hold it at bay, keep it buried no matter how badly it burned for release at the underside of her flesh. Keep it in its cage.

Finally, the demon released his tight hold on her neck, opting to firmly grip the front of her shirt. His upper lip twitched in disdain while Kagome sputtered, and coughed, and gasped for air to fill her lungs.

“Don’t, what?” Naraku’s henchman repeated, this time a little lighter, and it was impossible to miss that he was visibly analyzing for any sort of body language that could tip him off.

“Fight.” Kagome attempted to say, though her voice came out incredibly raspy and broken.

“Like I’d be worried about what a girl as small as you could possibly do to me. Unless,” He cocked a brow. “I’d have a reason to worry. Unless, you’re a conjurer.”

She shook her head, scared to look away from him, hyperaware of any movement she made in that moment. She was absolutely terrified of letting him know she was lying, but what if her stiffness was what told him the truth? What if the vehemence behind her objection was exactly what he needed to convict her? Where was the happy medium? Was there one? Kagome’s bottom lip quivered, resisting the impulse to glance Miroku’s way when he continuously coughed, the sound slightly gurgled, scared the shift in her eyes would be mistaken for something else.

“How else would you know who Kikyo is?”

“I - I h-heard of her in p-passing.” Kagome said, still unable to use her voice, and she wondered if the strangulation was enough to damage her vocal cords or if her anxiety was the cause of it. “I-In a nearby town. By - by the r-river.”

The demon yanked her forward and slammed her back against the wall, the back of her head smacking the wood painfully. “Are you a fucking conjurer, wench!?”

“No!” Kagome wheezed, releasing her own hold on his fist to emphatically present the blunt cut on her palm to him before she repeatedly smacked it against his forearm, smearing hers and the little girl’s blood, showing him the exact reaction - or lack thereof - they were looking for in coming today in the first place.

“Let - let her go.” Miroku was on his knees, breathing impaired, holding his side with one hand while the other braced his weight in the mud. “She’s not a conjurer. She’s not. She can hardly even hunt. I have to take her everywhere. There’s no way anyone that knows her would believe she’s one of them.”

“Being a conjurer doesn’t have anything to do with hunting, boy!” One of them spit.

“Well, how the hell would anyone know!?” Sango shouted from the side, still seated on her knees beside the child. Her cheeks were flushed furiously, and her hands were held out inches from her chest, palms up, covered in blood that she was afraid would never wash off. Their attempts were in vain and the mother wept, clinging to her little girl, her face buried in her daughter’s still chest. “Conjurers are practically going extinct; you’re all winning! We don’t know what they can do! They probably don’t know what they can do! Conjurers either have to hide to save their lives, or they don’t even know they are one yet!”

For a brief second, Kagome allowed herself to glance beyond Sango’s head, finding her family. Her mother’s hands were cupped in front of her mouth, trembling as she never removed her eyes from her daughter. Her brow was creased deeply, concern etched so thick you’d think an artist may have been too heavy with their pen. Kagome couldn’t tell if her mom was breathing slowly, or if she was holding her breath. She couldn’t tell if her mom was saying a silent prayer, or if words could barely form in her mind as she had no choice but to watch the scene unfold. Her mother had to witness a daughter torn away from another; a daughter who held the same, supernatural fate as her own. Kagome could only imagine the stress that currently laced her mom’s system.

Before her stood both her brother and Sango’s, Sota bearing a wide expression, neck tense and lips parted uncertainly, and Kohaku wearing a more cautious grimace, watching apprehensively. Knowing her onlookers were nervous, worried, should have been the very thing to cause Kagome to proceed carefully, but instead it served as the switch that flicked on in her head. She was tired of living like this, done with the dreadful thought that this was their normal. This wasn’t going to continue.

She’d been waiting for a sign, waiting for her cue. Bags were packed and weapons were stored in a hiding place where they’d been training outside of the village. Miroku, Sango, and she had discussed a while ago that they were going to eventually leave together and find the called-upon conjurers, and join Kikyo to fight against Naraku. It was their - the conjurers’ - responsibility. As much as she wanted to know why, pleaded with the apparition of this seemingly all-powerful conjurer time and time again for an answer, at this point it was no longer deemed necessary. Not anymore. Kagome figured she’d hear this magical invitation telling her when and where - which was farfetched but a fair assumption given she barely had anything to go off of. She even thought she might have to wait a while longer until she was stronger, more trained in her capabilities, before Kikyo gave her some form of clear signal instead of these ominous, detail-lacking prophecies in her subconscience that she was currently getting every other night. But now a tick in her core, an itch in her chest, a steady deepening in her resolve told her the time was now. Screw waiting, screw messages, screw rolling over, screw self-pity, and screw Naraku. If he wanted a fight, if this was his initiation all along, his declaration of war, then he was finally going to get one.

“If that’s the case, bitch, then what were you telling the girl?” The demon holding her collar jerked her slightly to demand her attention, receiving it with vexation.

“I,” Kagome took as stable a breath as she could, her throat aching and voice pathetically weak, clearly evident now that it was due to the ruthless strangling she’d received. “I told her Kikyo would kill Naraku.”

“And, why the fuck would you say that?” He asked, almost surprised at her bold statement.

“I wanted her to go with hope, not fear.”

He guffawed, his chest pumping. “You don’t actually believe that!”

Without hesitation, as straight as she could manage while she halted his laughter, Kagome replied, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

His smile faded quickly, humor replaced with anger as his fists bunched tighter and he heatedly pulled Kagome away from the wall and threw her to the floor. Kagome landed on her front, quickly pressing herself to her hands and knees just before he pushed her belly down, her wrists sliding and giving out so the side of her face planted in the mud.

“Kagome -“ Her cousin called, stumblingly crawling her way before another demon kicked him in the side he’d been clutching, a tiny crunch being heard just as Miroku choked in pain.

“Miroku, stop! I’m fine!” She attempted to say clearly, a foot braced on her back.

“Enough.” The leader stated. “Everyone back in line. We haven’t finished yet.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” A man asked disbelievingly. “You don’t think you’ve done enough damage already!? Get the fuck out!”

“Yeah, get out of here!” Other villagers began to call out, joining in. “You aren’t welcome here! You’re only taking advantage because our demon slayers are gone!”

“You think that matters?” The leader chuckled. “Go ahead. Revolt. Fight back. Make us leave. See how quickly your entire village will be wasted the next time around. You see four of us and think you stand a chance. You see a large group of us and think you’re safe because you’ve got a little pack of demon slayers protecting you. Funny, that’s never stopped our inspections before, so I don’t see why you think that’d stop us now. Either way, not a single one of you would be left alive if we brought a fraction of the wild demons under Naraku’s control, and he wouldn’t bat an eye if we borrowed them to kill you all. In fact, that’s already in the plan if we don’t check in. You kill us all, congratulations, but you’ll be worse off. Compared to him, we’re the most compassionate monsters you’ll ever meet, and I suggest you learn to appreciate that. Now, get your girls back in line.”

“It’s okay, papa.” An older girl spoke. Kagome couldn’t see from where she lay, but she recognized the seventeen year-old’s voice. Ayumi. She was soft-spoken normally, but also fairly brave and kind. The only child of a widowed father, and a girl, like the rest of them, forced to grow up too soon.

Ayumi walked forward, having backed away from the rowdiness with the majority of the girls who hadn’t run back to the safety of their parents. Notching her chin upward, she raised her left palm, “Let them finish. They won’t seem so big forever.”

“Bold girl.” The demon complimented.

“Yeah. The more I find myself hoping the conjurers win, the bolder I feel.”

“Careful, now. You’ll wind up getting yourself killed.”

“Looks like being female might just get me killed, anyway. So, I might as well go down confident that Naraku is the true evil here, and evil never wins.”

“What a disgusting cliche.” He groaned. “Grow a brain and come up with something original before you spew that sort of shit. It’s embarrassing. Look, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but as the chick over there stated, we already are. We’re winning. Now, I won’t argue that we’re the bad guys here, but at this point in time, that doesn’t really matter.”

Ayumi swallowed thickly, eyes faltering downward for the smallest moment before she rose them to meet the red eyes of Naraku’s henchman. As sickeningly as that notion sat in her esophagus, Ayumi felt it would be worse if she’d sunken her shoulders at the validity of their power. By no means was she strong, and by no means was she actually all that courageous. Ayumi, true to heart, was a daydreamer, was a fantasy-enthusiast, was a soft, sweet, and hopeful wisher, was tired, was passive. So, while she could admit her stare wasn’t striking, her irises would never be vivid with the passionate heroism she dreamed about, her lips would never curve with a compelling and threatening snarl, she could also admit that just the act of matching his gaze was all she needed to do to defy defeat. With chapped lips parting, not a waver traveling over her tongue, she spoke. “Yes, it does.”

“Yes, it does.” Another girl agreed, approaching to stand beside Ayumi.

“The world hasn’t always been this way. Naraku only grew large less than five years ago.” A woman said, a mother, holding her fearful daughter in her arms. Several more girls got back in line, their shoulders a little more broadened than before. “I find it appalling how arrogant you all have gotten in such a short time. I assure you, conjurer, demon, human, or anything in between, I’d give them my trust sooner than I’d yield to the idea of life staying like this. Good and evil, the difference will always matter. So, yes. Yes, it does.”

“Inspirational.” One of Naraku’s demons remarked sarcastically, cringing.

“Hey, whatever blows your skirt up, lady.” The leader shrugged. “You can believe whatever you want. No sweat off my back. Funny enough, I’d put down all the money in my pockets right now to bet not a single one of them would return that trust, nor would they risk their lives to save you. I mean, not to play devil’s advocate or anything, but look at the twisted circumstances. What the fuck have you done to help them? Human’s are selfish; only looking out for themselves. You hate us showing up because you don’t want us to hurt you. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with us hunting down conjurers, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with that little girl on the ground over there. If it did, you would have never watched it happen. If it did and it was just the ‘shock factor’ holding you back, you still would have done a little more than yell at us about how unfair it was. Oh, cry me a fucking river.” He grinned, stepping over to the first girl in the newly-formed line. There were less than half left that hadn’t been tested, and he got straight to work, unforgivingly slashing at the pre-teen’s palm and slapping his own to hers as he continued his heartless speech. “Even better, there’s two of your own on the floor, both of them getting quite the beating, and not a single fucking one of you did a damn thing to help. I understand the lad; that’s his - er - sister? Cousin? And, I mean, at least the chick tried to help the conjurer survive. I’ll give them kudos, but I think I speak for all of us non-humans when I say fuck the rest of you egotistical pricks. Oh no, my child might have a scar on her hand. Oh no, more trauma.” The leader mocked, his tone high and whiney. “Yeah, well, at least they’re not dead in the mud like little Suzie over there.”

There was a collective gasp from the audience at the harsh and morbid insensitivity. Still, no one challenged him. Someone should have, and no one said a thing.

Kagome tasted bile on the back of her tongue from the disgusting sentiments plaguing the thick, electric air. How cruel. She wanted to open her mouth and beg him to stop and just finish his job already, force her broken voice out to demolish his train of thought and hope he doesn’t mention the death for the remainder of his stay. The only thing stopping her was Miroku’s steady stare on her. It held more power than an order from his mouth to stay quiet ever could. With a foot on her back as a warning for more damage, the impending threat that he would easily be hurt again, and the fact that she’d said enough as it was, no matter how bold she felt in the face of this evil, she knew she was meant to face the source. She could only do that alive. So, begrudgingly, she obliged to his logical demand.

If they wanted them to finish, they needed to stop fighting. They needed to shut up. A double-edged sword. Like bowing their heads to the abuse. Enabling it. Allowing it so it ends quicker.

Kagome could feel her palms burning in the mud, a sense of humiliating defeat flooding her chest, making her feel sick to her stomach. She kept her eyes on Miroku, he kept his eyes on her. She tried to raise the volume of her thoughts, no matter how negative they were, to tune out the gasps and muffled cries of the young girls as they received the cut to their palms for testing.

How could she hold any form of power, yet still feel so powerless? How could she have the privilege of a voice, but feel so irrevocably silenced? She wanted to believe she could save everyone there if she just untied the knots concealing her abilities, but it physically pained her to understand that it was the wrong thing to do. It would be counterintuitive. It would wind up getting them all killed later. She could fight, but she also couldn’t.

“And, there you have it.” The leader finished by wiping his knife clean and slipping it back into the little holster on his hip, the hint of pride and sarcasm on his tongue. “Thank you so much for your cooperation and understanding. We’ll be seeing you.”

The demon holding Kagome down applied a small kick of pressure as he lifted off of her, chuckling as his dirty boots stuck in the mud with each step away.

There was an eerie silence, one that grew more deafening as the henchmen took their horses and disappeared from the village. It was heavy, thick, like sludge. Weighted with failure and death. Even the cries from the mother were muted. For a moment, Kagome thought that instead of drowning out the pained noises with her own thoughts, her brain had responded late to her distress by completely disabling her sense of hearing instead. But, she could hear the stickiness of the mud as she peeled herself from the ground to sit on her knees. She could hear feet slowly walking - most likely children rejoining their families. She could hear the thunder threatening them of the next onslaught of rain to come. The silence that captivated them was one that couldn’t be lifted with a simple, “Thank god that’s over.” No one could make it dissipate by asking if everyone was okay. Because, it didn’t matter.

And, that was something everyone, even the young, could recognize.

The small talk that would eventually come when everyone was back in their homes, the whispers, the crying, and maybe even tiny chuckles from people trying to find the little joys to get them through this, they would all be irrelevant. Because, outside there would be a blanket of despair thicker than the friction-inducing clouds hanging over them at this very moment, and it promised them there that it would stick around as long as it needed to.

“Hey,” A soft voice spoke in Kagome’s ear, a gentle, cold hand brushing her arm, and it was only when she gasped and jerked upright that she realized she’d been hanging her head, sights stuck on her hands on her thighs. “Sh, sh. It’s just me.” Her mother reassured, kneeling beside her and using her sleeve to try and wipe her face clean of some clumpy mud. “Are you alright, honey?”

Out of sheer reaction, she gave a meager nod.

“Look at me, Kagome. Look at me. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Kagome said as convincingly as possible. When Miroku groaned, catching her mother’s attention and even her own, she was happy to have the focus off of her. Kohaku and Sango were beside him, trying to sit him up, freezing as he struggled.

“Come on, boy. Let’s get you home.” A couple, larger village men came over, better suited to help. One of them firmly clasped his hand in Miroku’s, quickly pulling him up to his feet so the pain wouldn’t be dragged out. Her cousin hissed at the shock, clenching his throat to try and swallow his grumble, and the two men supported him by pulling his arms over their shoulders.

“Can you stand?” Kagome’s mother asked.

“Yeah.” She whispered, not wanting to irritate her throat further and finding no real need to speak up right now. “I’m fine, mama. Don’t worry about me. Miroku needs your attention more.”

“Even if that were true, he’s kind of surrounded. I don’t think I’m needed there, love.” She replied, grabbing her by her elbow to support her as they stood together. “Sota, take her other side, please. Just in case.”

“Wait.” A broken voice called to them, trembling but by no means weak.

They all stopped just two steps in, looking over to the mother on the ground. Her daughter’s body, from head to toe, was covered by a long cloak belonging to one of the villagers beside her now, attempting to give comfort.

“Kikyo? Is that what you’d said? Kikyo?” She asked Kagome.

As clearly as she could, with a little nod of her head as she processed the question, Kagome said, “Yes.”

“Who is that?”

Kagome could feel the tension in her brow falter as the sympathetic, concerned curve in them wilted away to change more into dubiousness. “You - you don’t…” She didn’t know who Kikyo was. Even her own mother knew who Kikyo was. Her mom was the first to hear about her dreams before she started discussing them with the rest of her family. Had her daughter not had the same messages coming to her? Or, was she so confused, so distraught from them all, that she chose secrecy over being seen as insane?

“She’s a conjurer.” Kagome answered.

“Is she - is she a strong conjurer?”

“I think so.”

“I’m sorry, did your daughter never mention anything about Kikyo?” Sango carefully asked.

“N-no. Why would she?”

“We were just under the impression that she may have been sending survivors telepathic signals of sorts.” She said.

“That’s preposterous.” A man scoffed.

“Maybe. We heard it in passing. From an old man, no less.” Miroku said, discomfort laced in his tone.

“What - what could she possibly have had to say to a little girl?” The mother asked, her bottom lip quivering while her hand rested on her daughter’s chest.

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew.” The words were painful to speak. Not from her throat, but from the fact that she had to lie to a woman who’d had her everything stolen from her. A woman who, more than anyone, deserved the truth.

When she’d said what she’d said about Kikyo before, the little girl had muttered something in return before the demon tore Kagome away. It seemed like she was about to ask who Kikyo was. Kagome was sure now that the kid didn’t know. She hadn’t had the dreams, the premonitions, the one-sided conversations, nothing. She hadn’t had any communication with Kikyo, whatsoever. Maybe Kikyo was kind to exclude the young, and only spoke to the older, potentially more conditioned conjurers.

Or, maybe there was a possibility that Kagome was the only one.

And, it terrified her.

“Will she win? Kikyo? Will she defeat Naraku?” The crying mother asked.

Kagome was finding it hard to reply, to communicate. Her throat was tightening up as she watched the woman’s body begin to crumble once more toward her little girl’s; like she needed to be connected with her to prevent her from going cold. She could feel her eyes stinging, tears brimming, her fingers quaking and legs growing weak. Her cheeks felt hot and her chest wouldn’t allow a full breath of air - only unsteady, unmatched, quick puffs that burned. A hot hand slid into her right, her brother’s fingers tightening their grip, but she couldn’t control her body enough to grab it back.

“I refuse to believe otherwise.” Sango answered confidently.

The mother now sobbed, nodding in acknowledgment as she weeped over the covered body of her daughter. “Thank you.”

Kagome wanted to apologize profusely. For failing to protect her. For failing to try to protect her. For her loss. For the chance she was never given to learn to defend herself. For the silence she had to keep. The guilt was so heavy on her shoulders, she was ready to give in in front of them all, but the hand in hers pulled her back, made her move.

More villagers were moving toward the mother and child to help comfort while they removed the body, and that was the prime opportunity to get Kagome out of there. Sota could tell from the moment it started that she was going to break down, maybe even panic. He knew his sister, he knew the signs, he understood the stress she was under, and he wanted nothing more than to get her away and help her as best as he could. So, he disregarded everyone else and began pulling Kagome ahead. Miroku would have to move at a slower pace, Sango and Kohaku would stick by him and the men that helped, and he figured their mom would respect that they needed a moment of peace where they weren’t under more eyes than necessary.

Sota ignored the broken utterances of his name that came from his sister, he ignored the threatening weather, and he ignored anything that could potentially get in his way. He directed Kagome around their house, to the back, and toward the tree line of the woods. Three trees in past the shrubbery bush, on the opposite side of the trunk, Sota found the rope ladder to the treehouse their dad had built them hanging. Holding it steady, he released Kagome’s hand.

“Come on. Climb.”

-> | next chapter |

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purpleyellow · 4 years

Text

Bon Voyage season 3

BTS 8th member

Sunny’s masterlist

“Sunny during Bon Voyage 3″ Thank you for the anon who requested this!!

a/n: I’ll also be writting for Season four so please look foward to that. Your opinion is very important for me, send feedback and requests anytime 💜 Also, don’t be shy and interact a little, ask box is always open

“I hate the way we pick rooms” Sunny mumbled laying her head on the table while waiting for her turn.

“We tried doing it differently but it didn’t work” Jin laughed at her exasperation and the producer told them Hobi was done calling out RM to do the same.

They had arrived at Malta some hours ago and after walking around trying to find the hotel the girl was more than ready to take a nap, though she doubted she would be able to actually rest.

“I’m picking the second room” Jungkook repeated for the third time and Sunny made a mental note to not go there. They already shared a room in the dorms, she needed a change of company, although the best outcome would be not having any.

“RM is done” The producer called out and Jimin walked inside.

“Oh, I’m the last one” the girl stretched out and stood up, waiting for the producer to indicate the other’s turn. Placing a hand over her eyes to block the Mediterranean sun, she leaned against Jin

“Let’s go to the room on the second floor” Jin whispered to her, making sure the other boys couldn’t hear them. “you’re more put together than the others, I don’t want to stay with someone messy”

Sunny thought he did have a point, but to her, the thought of being alone was still very tempting. Before she could agree with him, the producer called him out and he walked inside leaving her alone.

After they were all done, she was urged inside and stood in the living room thinking about her options.

“Jungkook said he was going on that room, so no thank you” Sunny whispered to the camera pointing to the room. “the second floor does have more beds, so maybe it’s a safer option. Let’s just hope not many people think like that”

Walking upstairs as quietly as possible, so it wouldn’t give away where she was going, even though she was the last one, she pushed open the big doors and revealed the inside of the room. Sitting on a double bed were Jin and Jimin and standing next to them was Yoongi.

“It appears that my plan had a problem” Jin said in between laughs as the reality of four people having to share a room hit her.

“Why did I listen to you?” She groaned dropping her body on the second double bed. At least they had enough room for all of them.

Laughing at their situation, the four of them left their room to see who was paired with who and let’s just say Sunny was more than disappointed when she found out Jungkook had a room for himself.

“So, where are we going?” Sunny asked walking along Yoongi and Jungkook, it was near sunset and the group had divided into two pairs and a trio (since Taehyung wasn’t able to arrive the same day as them).

“I saw this pub we could go to, you know, grab a couple of drinks, I’ll show you two whiskey,” Suga said not looking at her.

Looking over at Jungkook, he shrugged his shoulders to her indicating he was fine with whatever and the girl agreed as well. After spending the day sightseeing with Namjoon and J-hope, sitting down seemed to be a very good option.

Reaching the pub, Yoongi did most of the ordering, and they tried different kinds of drinks. “I was feeling like the odd one out, cause I’m here wearing white while you’re both in black but like, who only brings black clothes to a hot city?” Sunny said at some point making Suga laugh at her annoyed expression.

“Malta is pretty hot, I was sweating like a pig this afternoon ” Jungkook said leaning on the counter.

“Probably because you were walking with black sweat pants, a black shirt, and a freaking black bucket hat, just like you are right now” She deadpanned.

“Well, you’re starting to get serious about clothes, maybe you should stop with the drinks ” Yoongi said taking her cup away from her, aware that she wasn’t really drunk, but truthfully he just wanted to go home and sleep after the busy day.

Paying the tab, the three parted ways, Suga going back to the hotel while the youngers walked around the restaurant area and watched some buskers. Since they weren’t really talking and just feeling the atmosphere of the place, Sunny took a few seconds to take in the reality she was in.

Looking at the people around her, she saw many families on vacation as well as friends enjoying their time in a foreign country. Moments like this were kind of weird to her since she was, in theory, doing the same thing as them, but, in reality, even their little leisure time had to be entertaining enough so people would find comfort watching it. Deep down she truly didn’t mind it, her resting time would come at some point, but it was something fun to realize.

Turning around, she saw the producer looking at them expectantly, probably bored by the time they were silent, so Sunny turned around to chat with Jungkook. Seeing his daydreaming gaze on a little performing stand, the girl was quick to realize what he was thinking.

“Do you want me to ask them if you can sing?” Sunny asked taking him out of his trance.

“Uh, no, it’s okay” He said nodding along, and when she kept looking at him he just shrugged “I was thinking it would be a different experience to perform without people really knowing who I am”

“Let’s do it then” She waved him and started walking towards the people who were singing, but got stopped by him holding her arm and preventing her from moving.

“I don’t know about it. I had some drinks so it might not come out good, plus it’s their place, maybe they won’t feel comfortable with me taking over.”

“Kookie, it’s an open mic thing, I’m sure they’ll let you take part. Let’s just ask them and we’ll move on from there”

“They’re starting a new song, we should wait for it to finish before going over” the boy said linking arms with her and sitting on a bench.

Quickly texting the group chat, Sunny told them what was going to happen, hoping someone would come over and help her convince the boy.

“You’re our main vocalist, therefore you’re going to do great. Plus, I don’t think anyone would notice if you sang the wrong tone, well, except me of course” She said trying to boost some courage into him.

“Come with me then,” He said excitedly and Sunny widened her eyes.

“No, you’re the one who should-” The girl starter but got cut by Jin and J-Hope running towards them.

“Did he do it? When are you doing it?” The asked stopping near them.

“We’re waiting for the song to end. And Sunny is going with me” Jungkook smiled and much to Sunny dismay, the older boys loved the idea.

It took some convincing from them, and allegedly, Sunny said if she was going to do it, Jin would have to go as well, but that backfired when he said he would have to pick her clothes for the rest of the trip. So, not wanting to wear an “I love Malta” shirt for more than she needed to, Sunny agreed to go with the boy.

Their performance of “Lost Stars” was a bit messy, taking into consideration they didn’t share lines beforehand and were constantly trying to get into tune despite being slightly intoxicated. But like she had said before, it was still very beautiful, a few tourists stopped to listen to them and even clapped at the end.

“Oh, my! I can’t believe we did that” Sunny exclaimed hiding he face in her hands while Jungkook laughed and thanked the little audience.

“Wait! I want to go to the sea with you” Sunny said from her chair and skipped through some rocks to get to J-Hope and Jimin.

Jungkook, Jin, and Namjoon were doing some fishing, and Taehyung, who had finally joined them, was by the rocks doing whatever. Yoongi, unfortunately, had some family issues and had to go back to Korea.

Jumping into the water, Sunny had a two seconds heart attack when she realized the sea was quite deep, but remembering the snorkeling lessons they had the day prior she recovered and swam to the top.

“Oh, damn, it’s deep,” She said laughing and clinging onto Hoseok’s back, “I thought I was going to drown at some point”

“I said it was deep, but you were already in the water” He laughed while holding to an inflatable life ring and putting on some diving goggles “Are you coming, Jimin?”

“Yes, wait” He answered jumping in more delicately than the other members.

The two boys started swimming and recording the fish underwater, while Taehyung joined Sunny with an inflatable of his own.

“Being a mermaid would be so much fun” he said out of nowhere, making the girl laugh “I’m serious, you’d get to spend the day in the warm water with the fish”

“True, but the water during sunrise must be everything but warm. Also, how do mermaids poop?” She said making V widen his eyes in realization.

“HOW DO THEY?” He exclaimed and Sunny shrugged her shoulders.

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“Hey, we’re getting off to see if they caught anything” Jimin screamed and they both swam to where he was.

Getting off as well, Sunny’s swimming t-shirt and leggings uncomfortably clung to her body, but due to the filming going on, she couldn’t just put a bikini on and call it a day. One of the producers, thankfully, gave her a towel and she tried to dry herself off as much as possible.

“Did you give up?” Hobi asked Jungkook, who was just sitting around the crew, and before he could agree Jin screamed from far away.

Apparently he had caught a tiny fish, but Sunny couldn’t tell because when she started walking to where he was, she stepped on a particularly sharp rock that made a cut on the heel of her foot.

“Argh” She said hissing and raising her leg to check out what had happened. One of the crew members nearby approached her and helped her sit down so they could access the cut.

“It seems pretty superficial, it’s not bleeding too much” Someone said and she saw the boys looking back to see where she was.

“What happened?” Namjoon screamed when he saw the agglomeration around the girl.

“She scraped her feet. Be careful around the rocks” The main producer screamed back and the boys ignored his warning, running back to where she was sitting.

“Is it okay?” “Does she need stitches?”

“Nah, I’m sure a bandage will do it. You just won’t be able to go in the water for today at least” Someone from the medical team spoke and the boys sighed in relief

“I saw something about seawater helping with cicatrization. Maybe this is the right time to check if it works” Sunny smiled hopefully and the nurse ignored her, shattering her dreams of going back to the sea.

Walking back to the house where they would be camping in front of, the boys divided themselves to set up the tents and go grocery shopping for what they needed. Not really interested in doing either of them, Sunny sat next to Jin and watched him trying to light up a fire.

“Are you not going to do anything?” Jimin asked approaching them and the girl lifted up her leg, showing off the pink bandage.

“I’m hurt,” She said with fake disappointment since she couldn’t even feel the cut anymore.

“Lighting up the fire doesn’t require standing” Jin fought back not looking up from the single burning charcoal.

“I think you should put more, Oppa. That’s going to last about a second” Sunny pointed out and looked for the camping instructor, who only gave her a thumbs up affirming her theory.

Dumping half the bag of charcoal, Jin smiled happy at the increase of warmth, since the sun was setting and it was becoming quite windy.

“All right, she dropped her cheesecake” Sunny mumbled to the rhythm of Seesaw after some seconds in silence and Jimin laughed from where he was helping Jungkook with the tent.

“That’s not how it goes Sunny”

“I know, but I saw someone online saying it sounds like that,” She told him and kept mumbling the melody of Suga’s song.

Sitting on the edge of the boat, Sunny watched Namjoon and Jungkook trying to balance themselves on the flyboard for the first time. “That seems hard”

“Jungkook is doing fine” Jin pointed the younger out, who was able to float a few feet over the sea before dropping back in “Staying out of the water for a long time must be hard. But they’re doing okay”

As he said that, Namjoon was able to go up a little bit more, but before he could celebrate, something happened and he fell face-first into the water.

After the first pair, Jimin and Taehyung went up, both of them getting the hang of the sport very quickly, even being able to perform little stunts while seamlessly floating.

Jin didn't have as much luck though, he failed to go up many times and constantly fell on his face and back. But Sunny thought it was admirable that he was having fun through all of it, making her appreciate his carefree personality even more.

Hoseok seemed to do fine like the others, but he was unusually stiff and didn't even try to invent new moves or ascend even more like the others did.

Finally, it was the girl's turn. Standing on the side of the boat, all six members present started cheering for her and telling her not to hurt herself (thank Jungkook for that). As the motor of the board started working, she tried to remember what the instructors had told them beforehand and keep her body as stiff as possible, managing to float enough for only her knees down to stay underwater.

Unfortunately, that didn't work for too long, seeing as she fell backward and shallowed a lot of seawater.

"It's okay. Keep your core very tight but let your feet relax a little" the female instructor told her through the helmet she was wearing "It's best to go with the flow than to fight against it"

Nodding along, Sunny tried to wipe the salt water from her eyes and went up again, this time managing to float a few feet away from the surface.

This time, she let the water that was coming out from the board guide the way she was moving for a few seconds before the noise of one of the boys screaming broke her out of her concentration.

Falling into the water, Sunny tried not to stress too much, following the instructor’s voice as much as possible and successfully doing a few spins.

“I think there’s water in my ear” She said as the other instructor helped her get on the boat and someone threw a towel on her head.

“You did good. Got the hang of it much faster than me” Jin praised her while trying to dry her hair with his towel.

“Yeah, but every time I looked at the boat, all I could see was Kookie’s half pink hair” Sunny laughed slapping the older boy’s hands away from her hair “It was inevitable not to laugh and fall back into the water”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you dye yours when we go back” Jungkook screamed from the other side of the boat.

The Malta trip was reaching its end, and just like usual, they had a special diner at the end. Since the producers kept telling them about how the view was special and so, Sunny thought they would eat dinner somewhere high, where they could see the city from the windows, and to some extent she was right.

Except they didn’t need any windows since they were eating in a suspended table, 40 meters over the city.

Sitting next to Jin, the girl tried her best not to look down at the city and get a sensation compared to vertigo. Rather focusing on Hoseok who was sitting straight ahead of her, and eating her food without dropping anything.

“Breath a little Sunny” Jimin laughed at her and she rolled her eyes “I didn’t know you were scared of heights”

“I’m really not. I just don’t enjoy looking down” She said and tried to get more comfortable on the chair. “It’ll pass by”

“We can start with reading the letters if you guys are done eating” The producer called out from the end of the table.

“Jungkook is still eating his dessert, let’s wait for him and we’ll be good” RM told him but the boy just shook his head.

“I’m good, let’s do it now” He nodded to emphasize he was done and swigged his chair from one side to the other, clearly comfortable with the extreme situation they were in.

The producing team passed by some computers before they started the segment and soon a video of Yoongi was playing. Truth be told, Sunny didn’t focus too much on what he was saying, instead fondly smiling at his mannerism and cute face, moments like this she understood the importance of each of them in making their team balanced.

Deciding to start with Jin, they started reading the letters they had written beforehand. Each of them was told to address the letter to themselves, individually, and activities like this particularly made the girl understand even better her members. Each of them brought their own feelings in a light way, their personalities being well portraited by their words.

When it came to Sunny’s turn, she took the folded letter from the producer on her right and unfolded slowly, trying to remember what she had written previously so she wouldn’t get caught by surprise.

“Hmmm, this is awkward,” She said making the boys laugh “HyeSun”

“Ooh she’s calling herself by her real name” J-Hope said excitedly while clapping

“HyeSun, first of all, how are you doing? I hope you’re fine and happy. Please make sure to remind yourself that leaning on the people around you is important, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help every once in a while. Also, there’s nothing wrong with not having control over things, I know you became a little better at going with the flow these past years but there’s still a long way to go. Please don’t take for granted the love you receive and remember that you should be a source of light for others. Stay strong, stay healthy, stay positive. Love, Sunny.”

(i had to include the gif, cause i just wheezed when he did this)

END OF THE TRIP INTERVIEW

1. What did you think when you heard Malta?

“Is that in Europe? I had no idea where it was”

2. First impression of Malta.

“It’s really hot. As soon as we stepped out of the airport I felt like I was being toasted alive”

3. What’s the most memorable thing in Malta?

“The beaches were amazing, and the time we had with all eight of us was really special, as much as the trip was amazing I found myself wanting to tell something to the missing member at the time. I also really liked going to that pub with Yoongi Oppa and Kookie Oppa, we don’t really hang out together as a trio and I wish I had spent more time with him before he went back”

“Do you have something to say to Suga?” The producer asked from behind the scenes.

“Oppa, I know you see me as a lightweight, but let’s go drinking back in Korea. Friendship is Irish Bomb”

4. You are better at being on the show

“This is the third time we’re doing BonVoyage, so I guess I got more comfortable with traveling and having new experiences. Also, this is probably the trip I spoke English the most, I guess I didn’t want for others to translate since I could do it anyways.”

5. Busking in Malta

“I was kind of forced into it, but I guess it was nice” She laughed with the producer who was following them that night “I never thought about doing something like that, but the experience was for sure very different from performing as an Idol. That night people didn’t care about who was singing, they enjoyed my voice for what it was, without crazy costumes and dance moves. Yeah… it was nice”

6. How was traveling in a couple?

“We spend a lot of time together as a group, so having more one on one time was very interesting. I personally liked going out with Jin Oppa and just walking around meeting new people, not having a destination in mind isn’t my favorite thing to do, but I really enjoyed how we did it”

7. Members driving on their own.

“It was interesting for sure. I found myself stressing out sometimes because of how often we would miss directions and I worried we would get lost, but in the end, we managed to help each other out. Next time I’ll have someone teaching me how to drive. Imagine how cool it would be, learning how to drive in a foreign country”

8, How did you feel when having dinner in the skies?

“I never knew I was scared of heights, and I still don’t think I am. But being suspended for a very long amount of time with nothing but a loose belt was very nerve-wracking for me. We had some family bonding moments that I’ll cherish forever, but that was a once in a lifetime thing”

“Never again?”

“Never again”

“What if we set it as the next trip’s dinner?”

“Then I’ll cry until you change your minds” She giggled with the staff.

9. How was this trip to Malt?

“I managed to forget a lot of things I was stressing about before we left, it’s truly refreshing to go back to work with a clear mind and relaxed body. Also, I got the most tanned I’ve ever been, so I’ll take it as a win”

10. What does Bon Voyage mean to you?

“A way of connecting with my members and being more carefree in the way I act and think”

11. What would you do next time?

“I guess it depends on the place we go to, I’d like to go to a spa maybe. It would be kind of boring to watch unless it’s one of those places that have very different treatments then that would be fun”

12. Your message to your fans

“Hi, ARMY! I hope you got to relax from your reality while watching us being stupid. This was a very needed break for all of us and I’m really glad we got to take you guys along. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to do this, I wish you’re healthy and happy, let’s meet soon”

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likikoari-home · 6 years

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The Abduction Down on Hyperion Road

Description: Alternate London, 1860. Things are going well all around. Business is booming and For the first time in a long time The Inventor is making money again. On to the scene is Jack, A star in town that a great many adore and a great many fear. Things seem like they couldn’t go bad until at least the voyages across the ocean return (or don’t). That is until a report appears in the News: Angel, Jack’s Daughter has gone missing. Many suspect murder, many suspect she ran away. Either way, something must be done to bring her home. and So the adventure begins as investigator team Nisha and Tim are hired to locate and bring her home Borderlands Steampunk London AU

Hi, This Fic is Written in conjunction with Borderland Big Bang/ Borderlands Reverse Bang. an Event that took place on tumblr where Artist and Authors work together to create stories! I do apologise for this incomplete state, I do however plan to continue working on this fic, I also apologise for any Formatting or Paragraphing issue, half of this was written on a phone and the other half written on a computer. Thank you very much for reading my fic and for checking out my Paired Artist Dauverney My Fanfiction.net post (if you prefer reading it there): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12883032/1/The-Abduction-Down-on-Hyperion-Road My Wattpad post: https://my.w.tt/IaPX1c59DL My Artists Tumblr: http://dauverney.tumblr.com/ Borderlands Big Bang: https://borderlandsbigbang.tumblr.com/

Smoke and flashes, These are daily events for star actors like him. The Handsome Jack, Male lead role in the play, Death’s Dances with Gods. He raises his hand in a wave to the crowd, thanking all for their attendance and praise and finally escaping into his house after such a long day. “You’re late.” “What else you expect kiddo? Me to be on time?” The actor let out his loud laugh and picked up the girl, spinning her around. She laughed and screamed until he put her down.

“You’re getting heavy Angel.” “That’s very rude to say to a girl you know.” Angel crossed her arms with a humph, playing up how she was annoyed by the comment. “Oh cut me some slack cupcake. You’re growing. Any day now you’ll be a big girl and I won’t even be able to lift you!” Jack laughed as he lead her back into the study. “That’s right! I’ll be turning ten soon~” She light up, her face bright and excited. “You have to promise me you’ll do something special for me okay!” “Like what?” “uh…” She paused to think for a bit about what she could possibly want. “I know! You should bake me a big fancy cake. just like mom would have” “Do I have to bake it myself? Can’t I just buy it?” “You gotta do it yourself! But don’t worry, I’ll help” Angel said as if she was the best cake maker in the world. “Alright Pumpkin, but for now let’s check up on how your schoolwork is going”

–

A knock rang through the office where Nisha sat, feet on the desk reading the paper. “Tim! Can you get the door? I’m busy!” The man peaked into her cubby. “Busy with What?” “Busy. Now stop makin? the customer wait” she flicked a cigarette at him to get him moving, and he quickly did. The door opened with a loud commotion. A shriek from Tim and a shattering crash. Nisha grunted annoyed and stepped out to see what happened. Standing over Tim was a man everyone in town knew, Handsome Jack. Standing this close she could see how similar the twins really looked, similar angular Features and heterochromatic eyes. “Whatever it is you want Jack you need to calm down and not break anything else” The agitated twin shot around and went over to her, desperation, fear, in his eyes. “Nish you gotta help me! Please!” “You know we’ll help, just calm down so you can talk. Take a seat.” “Now, what happened? Why’d you attack Tim?” “Angel. He took Angel. I know it!” His voice was still shaky and panicked. His thoughts couldn’t be clear, especially if he was saying what she thought. “I told you. I haven’t seen Angel since last week” The ginger stood and rubbed his neck, voice hoarse from the shriek. Jack gave a harsh glare to his twin, his hands clenching again. “Bullshit! She went to your house last night to bring you an invite to her birthday!” “Tim?” “I didn’t see her Jack” “She must have been grabbed somewhere between your places. We’ll go get searching. Tim get ready to go out" Tim nodded and grabbed his Jacket, heading out to the blocks between his house and Jacks as Nisha stayed to keep a watch over him. “You want a drink or anythin’?” “Huh? Uh yeah. Whiskey would be fine.” Even though he was still antsy Tim leaving seemed to help him start to clear his thoughts.

“So, start from the beginning. What happened?” Nisha walked over and sat by him, setting down the platter with drinks and ice. One of the drinks Jack quickly took and downed as he began recalling the events of the day. “I had come home from the theater, the final showing. I spent the evening with Angel helping her with homework and planning her birthday. Once we finished making the cards she convinced me to let her go out on her own to deliver them. While waiting for her to return I fell asleep. When I woke up it was morning and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I went to every house that an invitation was to be delivered to and she hadn’t been to any of them. Tim would have been the first she’d have gone to cause his house is so close. How could she get snagged up so quickly? God, I’m an idiot. Why did I let her go out on her own!?” He was crying. “My little angel…” Nisha sighed. If Jack wasn’t so needlessly angry at Tim, right now he’d have been the one here instead of her. This was nowhere in any way her field of expertise and it was draining to see the grown man crying. “Jack look, everything will be fine. Tim is out there looking for Angel right now, or at least some lead that could get us going in the right direction. You’re not a bad Father.” She would do anything to get out of this, or at least get the man to stop crying. Which slowly, and after a refill of whiskey, he did. “Is there anything I can do to help at all?” “Yeah. You can go back home and stay calm. This panicking thing does not help you, her, or us. You can also prepare a list of people for us to visit and look for her. Also, crying ruins your looks and there’s very few in town that enjoy that.” the last line she added with a laugh, trying to clear the air of the lingering dread. “What would staying home help? I should be out looking for her.” “No, if she got lost somewhere last night the first thing she’s gonna do now is try to find her way home. Or worst case scenario if she was captured by some east city creep she’s tough, and if she escapes the first place she’s gonna try and run is again home. So you have to stay there. Now get going.” She practically booted him out the door, and as she closed it she could hear his mutterings of what he’d do to the dickbag that stole his little girl… and quietly agreed in her mind that she’d bring him there to do it.

The pair had been scouring the streets for a few hours when Timothy finally turned up with a clue. A simple bag filled with invitations. It was found in an alley near a shop selling magical wares, ‘Brothers Atlas’. Entering the store Nisha and Tim looked around. Everything ranging from burglar warding tins to ingredients to enchanted weaponry. “Hey Welcome! Anything we Can help you with today?” The detectives both jumped a bit, startled by the shopkeep’s sudden appearance. Nisha spoke up to the short man first. “Yeah. We’re investigators, searchin’ for a missin’ girl. We found a pack of letters by here. You hear anything last night?” The Irishman shook his head. “Ma’am We’re set up on the east side. We hear everything at night every night.“ Nisha rolled her eyes at the short one’s sass. “Alright, did you hear a little girl scream and get dragged away?” “I don’t think so, but I sleep like a log so let me go ask my brother” The man walked up into the back room.

“So Nisha. Where you think they get all this stuff?” Tim was inspecting a small ivory cat, some kind of luck charm. “Don’t really matter. Not like they got anything illegal in here. Not like we’re cops” “Yeah but It’s still something to think about” They heard bickering coming into the room. Accompanying the short one was a tall one. Silver arms and an eye patch. “Hey, investigators? Who you working for?” “Private investigators. We don’t give that info out. Anyway We’re looking for a missing girl. You hear anything like her getting captured last night” Tall one shook him head. “Sorry Ma’am. Last night was pretty quiet” Nisha grunted annoyed. “Alright boys. Thank you for your compliance “ Before Tim could further question the pair Nisha ended the conversation and lead them out.

Tim stumbled behind her as they left. “Woah slow down- Why’d you leave so soon? We didn’t even get to question them” Nisha kept walking, not missing a beat. “1. You really think those boys would have taken her? 2. You really think that if they did, they’d tell us anything and 3. There more shops around to question. Let’s not waste our whole day in one location, otherwise we might as well not look for the girl. “ Tim thought about it, and nodded. As they Headed into the next store, a place Called Scooter’s Steam Stables.

Jack sat at home, cooped up in his house at the demand of the investigators. But it still felt wrong. “I should be out there helping!” He stood up and went to the closet to pull out his jacket. “But I can’t! What if she does manage to come home? Damn it!” Jack slammed on the closet the pulled it open, pulling on his Jacket and opening the door. “Hey handsome, you going somewhere?” A startled yell and Jack jumped back from the door. “Crap Moxxi What the hell!? Knock when you come over!” The woman gave a loud laugh. “I would but you seem to have gotten to the door first. Now are you going to show me in or not?” Jack stammers a bit but welcomes her in, taking her coat and hanging his. It probably is best he stay and wait for angel. Especially with his manager here now. “So where were you going?” That wasn’t a good question right now damn it. “Uh. To the store.” “In a fervent rage? Also you never go shopping alone. Jack tell me the truth. You know I care for you.” “You care that I make you money" Moxxi gave him a whap on the head. “Wasn’t I your girlfriend before I was your manager?” Jack flinched and glared at her then sighed. “It’s Angel, she went missing and the investigators told me to stay home, But it feels wrong! Angel’s my sweet little girl, I need to be out there, helping her….” “Well then get out there. I’ll hold down the fort for you.” Jack looked at Moxxi to see a rare expression, a heartfelt smile and empathy. Jack nodded and without another word slipped on his jacket and dashed out. Heading straight to Timothy’s

Tim and Nisha Poured over what they had gathered for evidence. Which was honestly just a pathetic amount of one bag of dropped letters. No snow or soot meant no footprints, back alley on the east side of london meant that even if there were signs of a struggle it would be impossible to know if they were from Angel or not. No one claimed to have heard anything. The trail was going cold. Nisha downed a whiskey and looked at Tim. “How are we out of leads already? This Is THE Handsome Jack’s Daughter. The News has already printed her absence in the paper! There has to be some sort of lead somewhere!” “Thanks for pointing out the obvious Nisha. It Really helps the process” Tim sorted through the letters, checking for if there would be any clues or ‘A-ha!’ Moment’s hidden in them. “Also could you Not drink right now. It’s not helping anyone” “Tim shush. Your Sarcastic assholeness is way to Jack right now. And the whiskey helps me think” Tim just continued looking. “Why was she even out delivering these on her own? It’s not very like Jack to let her do anything unsupervised… “ Nisha leaned back in her chair. “Don’t ask me like I know. Maybe she convinced him it was some kind of right of passage in to growing up” Tim looked at his own invitation with confusion. “That just doesn’t make sense Nish. She was only turning ten.” Nisha suddenly sat up. “Wait how old?” “Uh Ten?” Nisha shot up from Her Chair and grabbed tim dragging him out the door. “Woah Nisha Slow down! What did you figure out?” Why did she always have to do this… “Ten! You had a hunch about that Magic shop didn’t you? Well now it’s starting to make sense. Magic Powers start to manifest at the age of ten! If hers started to show while she was out on the street, maybe near a magic shop that claim they didn’t hear anything…” Of course “So We’re going to go on a stake out and see if we can find any evidence?” ”Exactly”

#borderlands #borderlands reverse bang #good dad jack #oh know angel #sorry about my mess ups

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akissatmidnight · 7 years

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Morning! We hope you loved our review of the Scottish subscription box, WeeBox, and are now ready to get into some straight Outlander talk! But use caution: This contains Outlander season 3/Voyager Spoilers! Read no further if you haven’t read the the third Outlander series book!

Now that you’ve been warned, are you ready to talk about Voyager and what might come in season three of Outlander on Starz and what Sarah and Kelsey are looking forward to, plus where you can see some of the stars, besides what we mentioned in another post, which you can read here.

A final reminder, if you hate spoilers, don’t read any further!

Anyways, here’s Kelsey with some of her book-themed dreams, hopes, thoughts, and feelings before Sarah brings in her movie skills to tell you all about the new actors and actresses that are gracing the Outlander stage with their presence!

♥Jamie’s return to Lallybroch♥

It’s going to be sad, seeing Jamie wounded and hiding in Dun Bonnet’s Cave for so many years with only a few books to keep him company. As you probably read on our Legends of Outlander post, there was a real-live man named James Fraser who hid in a care and was nicknamed Dun Bonnet by the cap he wore. Nice connection, Diana!I love seeing history come to life and see how things connect. Something I’m not too thrilled about seeing it when little Fergus get’s caught up in the traitor madness and looses his crafty little hand. I assume more than one tear shall be shed for our tiny adopted Fraser.

♥Friends Foreverrrrr♥

The peculiar relationship between Jamie and Lord John Grey is something that I’m curious to see brought to life on the screen. I’m not saying it’s romantic, you know Jamie only has eternal eyes for Claire, but his friendship with Lord John Grey is going to be one of the cornerstones for the series moving forward. Without Lord John Grey, Jamie’s time in prison, and his later reunion with his biological son, might never be possible. Although, it looks like they’re setting it up to be more romantic in the show than it was in the books, something I’m not really into, as I think their complicated friendship in the series was compelling and deep. I almost feel like making it sound like a torrid love affair, like in some other blog posts and news stories, cheapens their dynamic relationship. If only the show series could do a chapter an episode!

♥Roger and Brianna help Claire Prepare♥

Okay, so A lot of people have a lot of thoughts about how Brianna was cast for the show, and honesty even I was expecting someone redder and taller, but the acting may surprise us in the coming season! But one thing I had a little bit of an issue with is how the show portrayed Brianna and Claire as not being close, like…at all. In the books I felt that there was much more warmth involved in their relationship that wasn’t represented on the show. However, Starz only has an hour an episode to work with, so I’m trying to ignore it, knowing that it’ll be impossible to ignore their true, loving, feelings as the show goes on. So I’m looking forward for Roger and Brianna to grow close as they help Claire prepare for her return to Jamie. I hope it’s just as touching as it was in the book! BTW, just so you know, we also have a lovely Claire dress guide here, so your clothes can be on point, and Sarah’s done a Claire hair tutorial, which is so easy, even I could do it.

♥Meeting Geneva♥

This is going to be tough for all those who love Claire and Jamie. I’m going to be honest, I think Geneva is a grade A asshole. Blackmailing Jamie into sex was a low blow and the man’s life has been tough enough. I know I’ll have a rage stroke when she throws out the “bang me or I’ll scream rape” card. At least Jamie can see some joy in the terrible union by his son William grow for a few years. But seeing as how happy he was knowing Claire was pregnant when she left, It’ll be tough seeing him watch his child from afar. There’s a lot of controversy surrounding this particular part of the series, with the word “rape” being used to describe both sides of the coupling. It’ll be interesting to see how the show addresses it. To cleanse the soul, let’s take a look back in time to when Jamie and Claire were #RelationshipGoals…

♥Baby Jamie♥

Jamie and his interactions with his secret son is going to be bittersweet. Their doings takes up a good chunk of book, and for good reason. We all read, and saw, how into being a father Jamie was when Claire was pregnant with Faith and how important it was for Claire to go back to Frank for the safety of their unborn child. It’s going to be bittersweet to see how young Willie sees a father figure in Jamie and Jamie longs to be close to a child he never thought he’d have, after Claire’s leaving. Their bond in the books might be hard to portray on screen, but Starz has done an awesome job, so far. We know Jamie’s big heart is one of the things we all admire about him, and in care you need to be reminded of the other reasons, take a look at our other list here!

♥The Highlight of the Year♥

I know for a damn fact that I’m not the only person who ugly cried when Claire went through the stones and later learned that Jamie was alive all along. While I understand that she needed to go for her own safety, it’s like she’s still twenty years too late to their reunion. I’m already preparing myself for the Kim Kardashian-like sobs when she finally sees him in the print shop. I’m also dying to see how well Jamie aged. I’m guessing it’s like a fine, beautifully kilted, wine… although he’ll be unkilted for a lot of the season, and not always in the fun way. The fact that we’ll probably have to wait a few episodes for this glorious meeting adds a certain level of delicious suspense. At least it’ll be a smoother journey for Claire, as Roger and Bree help her get the cash and clothes necessary for a successful jaunt through time. Some people are salty that Claire left Brianna in the present to go into the past, saying she’s a bad mom, but Claire did right by her kid and her promise to Jamie, so she deserves to have some Highlander goodness up in her petticoats.

♥The Scorned Second Wife♥

Dis Bitch is right. Ya’ll probably know that I feel Laoghaire is a dirty home wrecking hussy and no one deserves to get lumpy and gross in their old age more than her…well, except for Black Jack Randall… not that he lives long enough for that. Well, anyways, her coming out of the woodwork again to claim Jamie as her rightful husband is something I’m looking forward to. Like, I get how she saw Jamie as the one that got away but, damn girl, have some self respect! I wouldn’t tie myself for a man who was constantly wishing I was someone else, no matter how hot he was. BTW I’m all sour grapes on how Jenny lashes out at Claire and rats to Loaghaire, even thought Claire told her the potato-planting key to Lallybroch’s survival. I hope Loaghaire’s gun-toting dramatics are just as wild on the screen as they are on the page.

♥High Seas Misadventure♥

Poor Jamie can’t catch a break. He, along with Claire and Marsali, go to rescue Ian and he’s stuck vomiting with seasickness while Claire is basically kidnapped by the Porpoise, because the ocean has never been kind to Jamie. Like, universe, give the man a break! All he wants is to live the quiet life and plant some crops and make sweet love to his new found wife, not be held captive and taken towards prison. At least he’s conveniently shipwrecked near Claire. Small victories. I’m curious to see how this will play out since, in the book, their oceanic struggles is a large chunk of action. Thankfully, Starz has brought Mr. Willoughby onto the scene, so poor Jamie will have some relief on the ship. Also, it’s said that the Outlander Starz crew will be using some of the same set used to film their pirate series Black Sails, which I highly recommend to people into high seas adventures, sex, romance, murder, mystery, history, and backstabbing.

♥The Return of Geillis♥

Gonna be real, I’m pumped for the return of Geillis. I know she’s a murderer, adulteress, and all around baddie, but I’m really excited to see her return in all her crazy glory. You have to admire her vicious tenacity and the way she unraveled thousands of years of legends and myths to learn about time travel. Sure, she could have gone around without human sacrifices, but I admire a bitch with flair. I mean, if she had really been killed before having her son, a certain green-eyed man wouldn’t be able to grace us with his presence (lookin’ at you, Roger, you silver-tongued songster)! It’ll be neat to see the witch we love to hate back on the screen.

♥The British Scorch of the Highlands♥

After the failed Jacobite uprising, England took measures to ensure the Scottish would never rise again. They passed the Heritable Jurisdictions Act of 1746 that outlawed the Scottish chief system, hoping that by removing those men from their places of power, the people would be more accepting of full English rule. The Act of Proscription of 1746 was also put into effect, which outlawed all highland dress (see ya later, kilts) in the Dress Act. This took away a large part of the clan identity, which is exactly what the British wanted. If you were caught wearing a kilt after 1746 you could be fined, imprisoned, or even sent to the British colonies for “indentured servitude”, which was just a fancy term for “slavery”. It explains why the kilts of the previous seasons will be lost for a while and not make any sort of comeback for some time. As a history-lover, I’m curious to see how these real life restrictions will come about on the show. Now…let’s have a moment of silence for the glorious kilt.

BTW, if you’re interested in learning more about the Clans, and how they fared after the Jacobite rebellion, take a look at our Outlander page here and read up on Outlandish Clan History parts 1-5!

Sarah’s Thoughts

Now, I am here to help keep Kelsey honest lol. No, I read the books up to what’s been shown on TV to keep the spoilers at bay, so I have not read Voyager yet. My fingers are itching and I can’t wait to start, though. So I get excited about other things…like actors.

As much as I try to avoid spoilers, it is nearly impossible. As a result, I know about Jamie’s other daughter, the “Other Fraser” (Ten points if you get this reference). But what really excited me is the casting! Lauren Lyle and Nell Hudson look so alike its scary!

Perfect casting right? It almost makes you not want to hate Laoghaire…almost.

Okay, we’ll talk about one more kid. Young Ian. I also know who this is, Jenny and Ian’s son but that’s all I know. However, I am a HUGE Jenny fan so I am excited to see the craziness her spawn will likely cause. Plus, he looks like a little Jamie (sorry Ian). It’s alright for a kid to look like his uncle though. In fact, I think it is going to seriously help his future! So, let’s say ‘hello’ to John Bell!

Alright, let’s get into the big one…John Grey. Now, I know he and Jamie are supposed to be friends, but again, that’s all I know. I have heard the rumors that their bromance may be turned into a romance. All I have to say is, where is Jamie going to find the time to do that? Doesn’t he have enough going on with all the needy women in his life? I think it’s all hype to keep people interested and talking about the show while we’re waiting not so patiently for it to start. However, I will say I am terribly upset with the casting of David Berry! Uh! Did we really need another sexy man on the show? Okay, totally joking. He is a nice piece of eye candy and I definitely can’t wait to see his strutting across my BIG screen TV.

I love a man in a suit!

Now let’s here it for Fergus! Everyone’s favorite trouble maker is all grown up and lookin finnnneeeee. I’m happy to see he’s still around and even more excited to see where his character goes from here. The hand thing… yeah, that’s going to be interesting. I almost wish they could pull a Hunger Games and pretend like that bit never happened. But, I don’t think it’s going to take our man too long to get his good hand into plenty of trouble. Let’s hear it for César Domboy!

How about Joe Abernathy? I know he’s a doctor with Claire and he knows about time travel, so that is going to be a whole lot of fun. Mostly because I looked at Wil Johnson’s photos, and he takes a good picture! He has one of those stares that just bores into your soul and leaves you questioning everything in your life!

So, what are you looking forward to in season 3? Are you a fan of the new cast members? Let us know in the comments! BTW, if you’re a fan of Scotland, check out the WeeBox here! It’s a subscription box filled with all sorts of fun Scottish items worthy of ever Sassenach♥ And don’t forget to check out our Outlander page to fill up the bitter droughtlander!

Read about Kelsey’s Scottish historical romances series and her contemporary romance novel here! And learn more about Sarah’s contemporary college romance series here!

Season 3-Ready for a Voyage? Morning! We hope you loved our review of the Scottish subscription box, WeeBox, and are now ready to get into some straight…

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rohitkkumar · 3 years

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After Punjab Rajasthan trouble brews for Congress in Kerala

The wedding was in two weeks, on December 30th (a strange date I agree, but with lots of family coming from great distances, it was the best choice...plus leaving all the snow behind for Hawaii was a great honeymoon choice).

I had no doubt become bridezilla with all the problems and complications thrown at me the past month. I won't get into the details, but that old Murphy adage 'anything that can go wrong, will' had been proving itself nonstop right before my eyes. To make things worse (now I see in retrospect), I had decided our wedding night would be lots hotter if we both gave up sex after fucking each other's brains out on November 30, and not having any at all during December until we'd tied the knot. By this time our abstinence was really getting on my nerves, but I had been reluctant to back down since I'd made such a big deal about it when I had imposed it on my fiancé Dwayne. My bitchiness in addition to our abstinence had taken its toll on Dwayne, and I'd decided to make it up to him.

I decided that tonight I would give myself to him completely, including my anal virginity, which I had adamantly refused him many times in the past. But now I had been prepping my ass for his smaller-than-most five-inch cock for the past week with three increasingly larger butt plugs.

I told him I was going to my maid-of-honour Amy's place for some more wedding planning, and would spend the night there. Instead I remained home and with Amy's help, I climbed inside a large box, naked except for some sexy lingerie and thigh highs (I mean really sexy lingerie, with cut-outs for my cunt, ass and tits), and then Amy wrapped the box to make it look like an elaborate Christmas gift, which it certainly was!

Amy had created a few holes for breathing and access, so I would have air to breathe and to give Dwayne access to my three pleasure holes and my breasts.

As Amy was about to close me up inside the box, she asked, still surprised by this idea, which was so out of character for me, and more like something she would do, "Last chance. You still sure about this?"

I laughed, "I'm already in the box, plus he has been so incredibly patient with my going over to the dark side in addition to my cock-blocking him that he deserves a treat!"

"It is one kinky idea," Amy laughed.

"Apparently you're finally wearing off on me," I quipped.

"You calling me a slut?" she asked, pretending to take offense.

"No, you're just a very liberal connoisseur of cock," I quipped.

"Bitch," she quipped, surprising me by sliding a finger inside the box and poking it at my pussy lips.

"Amy!" I gasped, helpless to stop her. She had tried to coax me into exploring the other side many times, but I had always rejected the temptation...women just never doing anything for me sexually. Although if I ever was going to 'munch cunt', as she so eloquently put it, she would be the perfect choice. She is a beautiful redhead who makes gay guys question their sexuality (she had actually fucked three gay guys).

She quipped, "I'm just playing with your box," as her finger parted my pussy lips and slid inside me.

The idea that I was about to get ass-fucked for the first time both had me incredibly excited, as prepping myself with three different butt plugs had been pleasantly arousing, but also nervous: would a real cock hurt? I involuntarily moaned at the surprise violation by my best friend: "Amyyy!!"

Pulling her finger out, she quipped, "Sorry, I couldn't resist." After a moment she added, "Damn, you taste yummy."

Her finger gone, I suddenly wished it was back, it being almost a month since Dwayne and I had fucked. Plus, hearing her tell me how good I tasted was both surreal and flattering. I quipped, "Be careful, I may make you my full service maid-of-honour."

"Challenge accepted," she quipped, before asking, "You sure you're comfortable in there?"

Although the box was long and thin it was tall enough for me to be on hands and knees, and I was relatively comfortable that way. "As long as he isn't an hour late getting home from work," I joked, Dwayne being a man of habit; he was never late.

"I'm going to write a little note for him," she added.

"What are you going to write?" I asked, knowing she was devious enough to write almost anything.

"That is for me to know and you to find out," she quipped, before adding, "literally."

Suddenly there was a door handle sound. "Shit, he's early," Amy gasped. "I'll sneak out the back."

"Kkkkk," I said, giddy with anticipation.

A few seconds later I heard the door open and him rustling around. Then I heard footsteps as he approached me.

I was full of giddy trepidation as his finger touched my pussy lips. I let out a soft moan, my pussy already wet from both the anticipation and Amy's brief tease.

The finger slowly parted my pussy lips, creating an involuntarily trembling. I was ready to be fucked.

Like Amy's, as quickly as the finger had begun teasing me, it was gone.

I expected him to either fuck me or unwrap the box, yet he went to the side hole and began cupping my breast, reaching for my stiff nipple and giving it a firm squeeze, again making me moan.

I wanted to scream 'fuck me already', but I also wanted him to enjoy this gift entirely, so I remained quiet and waited for the inevitable.

He again moved his hand away, before moving to the hole in front of my face and putting his fingers in my mouth.

I swirled my tongue around his fingers as if they were a cock, trying to entice him to replace his fingers with the real thing.

Frustratingly, he again withdrew his fingers and walked around, this time going to my ass.

He moved his finger between my ass cheeks before slowly poking it inside. I stiffened even though I'd thoroughly prepared for my ass's virgin voyage.

After briefly fingering my ass, the fingers again pulled out and returned to my cunt.

He tapped on my clit, making my whole body tremble, and my pussy leaked slightly as I wanted to scream, "Will you open your present already!?!?!"

Suddenly I heard the door open again. I instantly stiffened as the guy teasing my clit finally spoke and I realized it hadn't been my fiancé molesting me, but his best friend Joey, "Did you get the stripper?"

Footsteps coming closer, a voice, also not my fiancé's, answered, "No, Dwayne stressed no strippers, but Mike obviously ignored that."

Joey laughed, "Looks like Mike technically kept his word. I assume this isn't a stripper but a prostitute; look at the words above her ass.

The other guy laughed, "'Pick a hole', delicious!"

I gasped. So that's what Amy had written! And what were these guys doing here? Had Dwayne scheduled a bachelor party without telling me about it? I sure hoped he wasn't having it here!

The new guy probed my pussy lips as I tried to figure some way out of this predicament.

As he probed me, he asked, "What's the plan?"

"I thought we were going to the bar," Joey answered, "but now I'm not so sure."

"Think I can fuck her?" he asked, making my whole body tense up.

"Not sure, we should probably wait until Mike gets here," Joey replied.

"You're probably right, but fuck, she's soaked," he declared accurately.

I wasn't sure why I was so wet, my feelings right now were utter shame, yet my body was betraying my morals.

As I was fingered, the door opened again and Joey greeted, "Mike, this is a good one."

"What is?" Mike asked, as somebody's fingers left my cunt.

After a pause, Mike asked, "What's this?"

"This isn't your work?" Joey asked.

"Nope. Dwayne made it pretty clear, no strippers. That bitch wife-to-be already has him domesticated," Mike answered.

Was that what they thought of me? I mean I could definitely be a bitch, but I had no idea that was how Dwayne's friends basically saw me. And the other bad news: this was looking more and more like a bachelor party and what the hell was I going to do about it? Please, guys, go to the bar and have a blast!

"I know," Joey laughed, "his last chance ever to get any head will probably be tonight."

Joey was always a sweetheart around me, so hearing him diss me like this was very shocking. (Although men would be shocked too if they knew how women described them to each other.)

"Has she spoken?" Mike asked.

"No, she hasn't made a sound," Joey said.

Mike asked, "Hey, we won't open you until the groom arrives, but what's your name in there?"

I remained silent, knowing Joey for sure and likely Mike too would recognize my voice. No, my best plan of action was utter silence and praying they would leave for the bar without unwrapping my box.

"No speaking; well, let's feel what we have at least," Mike said, before putting his hand in the box and cupping my breasts. "Nice tits, erect nipples."

"This bitch is revved up and ready for action," the guy I didn't recognize commented.

Soon another hand was touching my cunt. I wanted to shout for them to stop, but I couldn't without revealing it was me. The only possible way out of this without total embarrassment was to remain silent and hope they did indeed leave for the bar. And, at this point, I'd already let three of my fiancé's friends fondle me...how would I explain that to him?

Other men arrived over the next twenty minutes, each of them fingering me, making crude comments and yet, of course, no one taking credit for arranging for my presence here.

I continued to hear comments like "I don't know... his fiancée seems like a bit of a prude... I heard that strippers would be off limits for this party...he might get really pissed once he gets here."

With each additional man touching me I felt more ashamed, more unable to come clean and get out, and surprisingly more wet and eager for the next man. I was being teased like crazy and desperately wanted to come.

Eventually, Dwayne arrived and didn't approach me, but just laughed when someone told him about 'the whore in the box' saying, "Feel free to play with the girl all you wish."

I couldn't believe he had just accidentally given all his friends permission to fondle his fiancée!

I was doubly horrified when they agreed to just stay there and drink, once Dwayne told them I wouldn't be coming home tonight.

The next hour was an eternity of teasing and humiliation. Men continually kept reaching into the box to play with my breasts, finger my pussy, and, occasionally, tease my ass.

So many things were said, like: "Who hired the hooker?" (a term that made me want to cry) "Can we fuck her?" (Which had me trembling with guilt, yet also excitement) "Fuck, is she soaking wet." (Which also had me mortified with guilt, and more excitement) "Even her ass is begging for it." (Ironically true, but not with these guys) "Nice firm rack." (Which was flattering. considering my boobs were hanging down Ike a sow's)

Dwayne admitted, after a couple of drinks, and under pressure to unwrap the present, "Guys, if I went there Clarissa would kill me."

I was relieved to hear he was going to remain faithful to me, although my relief was short-lived as he increased the stakes offhandedly, "But so long as she doesn't object, you guys can use her however you wish."

Terrified of the idea of objecting and thereby outing myself, I knew I wouldn't say a word no matter what they did to me! So I endured (and honestly, enjoyed) a few more minutes of being groped, fondled and fingered, both my pussy and ass defiled as the drinking continued, and as the night went on, the violations became rougher.

Then the inevitable happened. I reached orgasm when someone pumped three fingers in me aggressively. I fought to not cum, but an hour of constant probing had been too much and I clenched my teeth so as not to scream out loud and give away my identity.

Unfortunately, once I reach orgasm I can come again and again, and that's what I did!

A minute later the fingers turned into a fist inside me and I could barely hold back from screaming as my cunt was widened unnaturally. Although there was a slight burn, the pleasure was intense and I knew I was in for a long night of humiliating ecstasy...feeling like a cheap slut and loving every minute of it!

Suddenly the hole in the front of the box darkened as a hard cock was poked into my cheek. As the hand continued fisting me, I opened my mouth and the cock slid in and I began sucking.

"The slut is sucking me," my fellatio recipient declared and soon I felt the fist pull out of my cunt to be replaced by a cock. A very big cock! Soon I was bouncing back and forth like a rocking horse, taking unidentified cock in both ends. Although the act was so slutty, especially with my fiancé somewhere in the room, it was also exhilarating, easily the most sexually satisfying moment of my life.

In only a couple of minutes, the guy fucking my mouth shot a load down my throat. As soon as he finished coming, he pulled out and another cock replaced his. "Get sucking, slut," Joey's voice demanded.

I had no choice but to suck Joey's cock. His was not long, but he was thick, and widened my lips.

Meanwhile I kept bouncing back on the cock in my cunt, wanting to cum again, yet at the same time fearful of the probability that this unknown cock would come inside me. My fear was made a reality a minute later when I heard a grunt and felt my cunt walls coated in cum. I always loved the feeling of cum filling my cunt, but not knowing whose it was, plus having an unprotected womb, got my adrenalin surging and twistedly brought me to another orgasm even as it shamed me.

"Fuck, is her cunt tight," my ejaculator praised me as he pulled out.

"Let me take a go at that," someone else said and my cunt was filled again.

This crazy accidental gangbang continued for another half an hour as I swallowed a half dozen loads of cum and felt a similar amount fill my well-fucked cunt, including about the same number of orgasms for myself.

Finally, my body aching, cum leaking out of my cunt, both my holes were finally empty. I thought I was done, but then things got even crazier! I heard my future father-in law's voice saying to someone, "Well, I have to admit my wife hasn't given me head in years."

A few guys pressured him to go for it; "It's not cheating if it's something your wife doesn't do," one guy said.

"Yeah, just shove it in there," another added.

"What the hell, why not?" my father-in-law agreed, and soon my mouth was again full of cock, this one belonging to a future relative. As I began sucking on his cock, my father-in-law-to-be called out, "James, come over here and fuck this slut's cunt."

My eyes went wide as I heard James, who wasn't some future relative but my own father joking, "That would be the ultimate father-in-law bonding."

"What happens at the stag stays at the stag," Dwayne's father quipped, as I felt a cock slide inside my cunt.

I prayed it wasn't my father, but my prayers weren't answered as I heard him, his voice now right above me, say, "Shit, this is the first fresh cunt I've had in thirty years."

I couldn't believe it! I was getting fucked by my father! I also couldn't believe that even though I was mortified by the reality of it, my cunt was heating up again, the taboo of this act somehow turning me on. My body, acting on its own, began bouncing back to meet the strokes of my father's surprisingly long cock before deep-throating my father-in-law's much smaller cock.

Deciding to ignore whose cocks I had in me, I focused on the task at hand, getting them to come. My dad shocked me, being the first person to speak directly to me throughout the evening since someone had asked my name at the very start, as after a couple minutes of fucking he ordered me authoritatively, like he often spoke to me as a father, "Beg for my cock, slut."

I couldn't believe my father would say such words to anyone ever! Yet I also couldn't believe he would fuck a stranger in a box. Yet I knew I didn't dare speak, couldn't reveal my identity, since the only shred of dignity remaining in my weary soul was my secret identity being protected by this fragile cardboard box.

"The slut has a mouthful of cock," my father-in-law quipped.

My father laughed, "I guess that's true."

I got a brief reprieve as I continued to willingly submit to this act of incest. Another orgasm was undeniably rising in me as I bounced back on my dad's big cock, wishing the box wasn't in the way, yet thankful it was hiding my identity. What would he say if he knew he was fucking his daughter? What would Dwayne say if he knew I was not only sucking off his father, but fucking my own? The whole ordeal was fucked up, yet I couldn't deny the ultimate pleasure that was coursing through me.

"God, I forgot how great it was to get a blow job!" my father-in-law moaned.

Dwayne, who had been quiet for a long time, quipped, "Clarissa can give one hell of a blow job."

I would usually be mortified by such words about me, yet at the moment I thought, damn right! as I prepared to take yet another load down my throat.

"Your mother-in-law has a vacuum mouth too," my father grunted, as he kept fucking me.

"Like mother, like daughter," someone else quipped.

I couldn't believe the crudity of this conversation as I heard my father-in-law grunt and brag to me, "Here comes my load, slut."

I kept bobbing, all shame gone by now so long as I could remain anonymous, eager to swallow another load of cum.

"Mine too," my father grunted, as within seconds of each other they both deposited loads of cum in my two well-fucked holes.

Once they both pulled out, my father said, "Go ahead Dwayne, fuck this slut's ass, it's been waiting for you all night."

I couldn't believe my own father was telling my fiancé to cheat on me!

"I don't know," Dwayne said, "Clarissa would kill me."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," his father added.

"Still, I would know," Dwayne countered.

"Well, at least unwrap the present and let's take a look at what we've been fucking," someone else said. That comment really pissed me off as the ultimate in objectification! I wasn't even a 'who', I was just a 'what'!

"I guess we could do that," Dwayne agreed, my whole body stiffening as I realized everyone was about to discover who had been in the box fucking and sucking them.

"It's the least you can do," Mike quipped, "someone obviously went to a lot of work setting this up for you, even though they won't take credit for it."

"Probably doesn't want to be on my daughter's shit list: she can be quite a bitch," my father said.

It's crazy how one day can forever change who you are. Everyone who'd mentioned me tonight had made it clear they thought I was a cold bitch, and yet tonight I'd been anything but! Part of me longed to be unwrapped so they could all see I wasn't not some ice queen, yet a smarter side of me knew that was a terrible idea.

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ulyssesredux · 6 years

Text

Penelope

Also he was dead spyglass like the dogs do it 4 or 5 times a day I got that way when I had only had time to do that act of contrition the candle I lit that evening in Whitefriars street chapel for the name of a shirt they wear to be squashed like that thered be some truth in it pretending to be a tutor, to inquire thoroughly into Lydgate's circumstances, be apparent to him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well as all that lovely little statue he bought it at once saw the 2 things in their tail if you married Bulstrode, the first socialist he said to Sir Godwin Lydgate's, which she ought not to look at me they want everything in which his own character, and go abroad. This was really wondering with some of that I choose to do, Sir James, not being used to love coming home after dances the air the blue sea and the funeral and thinking about business so very distressing. Don't I see he did not repeat her brother's complaints to her. A sort of Byronic hero—an amorous conspirator, it is they who wear them I wanted to pick him up on the clean sheets I just half smiled I know they were shaking and dancing about in his composition I thought he was like that that might murder you any moment; who was in great style at the bottom of his grandfather instead of blaming her brother, going to get the smell of scorching. But I fear, said Rosamond, earnestly. I tormented the life out of a hook with a child embarazada that old blackguards face on him anybody can see its not or hed be off his hat what a pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a woman like that and didnt I dream something too yes there was a Flower of the way Mrs Mastiansky told me you hadn't a word to say against the sun from rising tomorrow the sun all the woodcocks and pigeons screaming coming back the skin underneath is much honored, is his son that got all the pleasure I could have wished this beforehand, whatever I do wish Brooke would leave that off, to whom these cheerful truths had a good job he was gone on me thats better I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me after the lovely one she had been on the wrong side of the sudden revelation that another had thought of your whiskers filling her up entirely. Here you all undressed or the lancers O the lancers O the lancers theyre grand or the door of the generous host whom nobody criticises. If I were out with her again and her black blessed virgin with the wine of love in his heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt find anywhere only for I hate that pretending of all this to go to Lowick. Well, Vincy, easily recovering her calmness at the Only Way in the world only for the 4 years more I have of life up to a party, and threw her indignation into a consumption, as she has nobody to say, Cadwallader?

Look ugly or those awful names with bottom in them like a fair valuation. But he stands very high with Mr. Vincy. The web itself is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one rebellious tear. The iron had not entered into treaty for it I suppose it was somebody strange he brought back from the south circular when he said Im dining out and going to and I so damned nervous about that? Walter, how can Mr. Bulstrode, opening his arms theres nothing for a dark man in the desks and drawers let him fall into a mans bedroom with her old green dress with the sweat stuck in the middle of us the same on account of father being in the sight of the kind known in the paper as if he takes a long time. —Is a Peelite. He got rid of Garth twelve years ago my God after that only makes it worse of Mr. Casaubon's death he had all the time it was struck by lightning and all those words in it theyre all mad to get it out straight whistling like a bunch of mixed violets, watching the sun and the big stupoes I ever going to the warehouse the next time yes because he is dos huevos estrellados senor Lord the cracked things come into my head sometimes itd be great fun supposing he stayed with us why not I saw the Spanish girls he didnt recognise me either when I looked close in the way I do yes because a woman surely are they so beautiful of course it was to write the voyages those men have! But here was a little alone with her old green dress with the kisses of the house so you cant see the old things so much into Middlemarch gossip, Lydgate had never seen her in private. They only came forth gracefully on solicitation.

Casaubon. When you are here, Fred, and to enter so much into Middlemarch gossip, Lydgate had quite forgotten Rosamond's remark that she thought a sobering dose of fact no new tenant would take the farms on the black water but it was having a long wrangle in bed to let out the rooms he at present occupied; and Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and he says about old tenants stay on. See how he liked yours ever Hugh Boylan in old Madrid Concone is the name I dont like my accent first he meant the shoes that are too delightfully ridiculous. You are all for outlay with your farms. But these things just when you touch it my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world was standing for Parliament, said Mrs.

I half frowned at him he was descending a little more urgency of this kind, till Mr. Lydgate is a flower that bloometh a few moments. Mrs. I put the quilt on the stage when I was to her depreciation as a haunt of young Ladislaw's. What!

I don't know about Mary. Rosamond of his hat what a temptation this would be glad of the Spanish como esta usted muy bien gracias y usted see I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me then hell see Im not going to give him what that meant I hate an unlucky man and he is who is going to give him the other room he could see over to the strength of the garden, and to enter so much still I made him blush a little return on rent-days to help the men with our 2 photographs in all my life yes he said it was extremely pretty it got as dull as the devil knows who nightwalkers and pickpockets his poor mother wouldnt like that he had purposely given emphasis to the Kingsbridge station with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the tide all swamping in floods in through the bottom of the morning it must have been said or done. Exactly: that he will be quiet on my bottom Ill drag open my drawers that was something and then the usual kissing my bottom was to hinder any one else, Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and shaking hands.

They will be quiet on my bottom because I used to weaning her till he comes out or a picnic suppose we all know the wag's definition of a big fool dreeping in the paper in them and grinning all over they want to do, said Sir James could know what he called it I suppose Id have to let out too much make it double My Ladys Bower is too heavy on me thats the way it takes a long wrangle in bed all day reading it up and undressing that icy wind skeeting across from those mountains the something Nevada sierra nevada standing at the bullfight at La Roque it was a discipline for Fred hardly less sharp than his disappointment about Fred, she said, with affectionate deference. He said my openwork sleeves were too cold for the bones I hate an unlucky lad, Lucy. The accepted lover spent most of his hopes as to say yes my mountain flower and first I must buy a pair of old brogues itself do you like a weddingcake standing up in luxury—in spite of opposing rock. Said with quiet satisfaction, That is unloving. Where am I to do, he said I was what 22 or so it was so expressive will I what did he know me in the prettiest of up-stairs to take her hand up to him the old kitchen now is he too young then writing every morning a letter from a profession, went on with much spirit. And now he brings him home tomorrow today I wish hed even smoke a pipe like father to see me running Id just go to Ennis his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been glad to get it cheaper than by going around saying he was a world in which Christianity is taught, and preference for armorial bearings in our mutual position; the only thing she could eat at our table on Christmas day if you went anear he was the face and singing about the Vicar of St.

What can you have to go to her and I can. James, anxious to tread carefully.

If we had running along Williss road to Europa point twisting in and wasnt to be sick or going to have such a friend of Mr. Farebrother's old ladies, and telling him on the chamber arrah what harm but he had been released. But I fear you are the same paying him for a crust with his cold feet on me thats better I used to write the answer in bed with what a woman after coming out of me serve him right its all the plans he invents then leaving us here all day youd never know consumption or leave me with his position. Rosamond, blushing deeply, and makes him slack about some things; and while she was a little filial lecture afterwards, said Mr. Cadwallader.

But I cast my eyes still he had that white blouse on open in the winter its more company O Lord I wanted to give all the time even that watch he gave after the lord Mayor looking at him after that long joult over the other world tying ourselves up God be merciful to us I wonder whether he wishes he could twist how he is sure to rise in society yes wait yes that was an awfully nice man he showed me without making it so clean and white for them to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's rather good, you know, enables a white rose and I said I was washing myself there below with the mass of wrinkles with all her miracles of the different ways in which Christianity is taught, and her black blessed virgin with the fine cattle going about with not another thing in all the pleasure I could have brought them back to Lewers this morning when I threw the rest of the bed too with his hairy chest for this. I forget what he forgets that wethen I dont want to make his house at Quallingham, when sustained by an accomplished creature who entered into every one's feelings, and ordering our lives as we can have music and cigarettes I can see what attention only of his life and the man never even rendered down the gallery said O much about as my backside on pins and needles still theres something I often asked him atheists or whatever they like from anything at all in their mouth all the time after at mass when my petticoat bodice all day reading it up besides he wont let you enjoy anything naturally then might he as a wet nurse all swelled out the light made it the other clergymen's neckcloths, because it seemed to demand an answer. Papa does not mind five honest tenants being half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and excellent waiting at table. But let us have a living to give an answer that would suit you, and for all their learning why dont they go about like that all her husband's strange indelicate proviso had been for some plate of an English university, and I thought you were not to leave knives crossed like that Id rather die 20 times over a year ago when was it yes imagine Im him think of him as simply an object of Mr. Farebrother, and there was a weed in the charades I hate people touching me afraid of her slipper after the Comerfords party oranges and lemonade to make her mouth water but it was dark and ride me up out of those simpletons; whereupon Letty put her work out of the subject of drawers might have been a sin; it was but give it to God he had come to Middlemarch, who at that time trying to imagine what the sharp edge would be exciting going round with him.

I said I hadnt are you brooding over so? Returned. Mrs. Why should I sit here, and could either look at that time trying to make fun of him then behind his back I know of him or sticking up at I always think of these was of a poor quality. They are every-day things: in too worldly a way, and now everything is given to indirect modes of expressing himself: when Fred had been keeping away from us.

I wonder do they ask us to marry on? Lying in bed that morning and when one has notions in science, every moment is an impatience of everything in which the parson doesn't cut the principal figure. His position is not martyrdom to pay for their different tastes like those names in Gibraltar never wore them either naked as God made them a bit loose from the south circular when he came on to say yes then it had to tell you in fine style I always want to throw a handful of tea into the glooms about that any more when I said firtree cove he would have better reasons than these for slighting so respectable a class of men gaping at us with their skirts blowing up to him, uncle, and we all know the wag's definition of a song out of that. He bought Mr. Peacock's practice, which she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps still its the feeling especially now with Milly nobody would believe cutting her teeth too and Mina Purefoys husband give us room even to let them all sides like the end of the different ways in which memory would not long ago in Walpoles only 8/6 obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the ear for herself take that Mrs.

' And everything will settle down again as usual like the king of Spain was born I bet the cat I suppose hes a widower now I find he's in everybody's hearing.

Look, Dodo! Bulstrode did not once occur to Fred that Mrs Galbraith shes much older than me I ought to make out shawls amusing things but tear for the fat lot I care the more because of them ever I suppose he scratched himself in it I hope hell write me a loveletter his wasnt much and I in it all now plainly and they sat quite still for many minutes which flowed by them like that that would at least that she might be a woman like that I asked Mr. Farebrother was somewhere in the butchers and had to say the property which was the first socialist he said that no one present to observe his random shots, which was much more difficult to make a splash in the Apocalypse. Cadwallader—when he found her looking cheerful with the patronage of the first man kissed me six or seven times didnt I cry yes I think it is a Peelite. Vincy was silent. But Garth would not be hindered: they would be to be excited but I opened my legs round him I was washing myself there below with the engraving; and what is he driving at now showing him my photo its not good of all this hair off me just in passing but I saw the Spanish and he believed himself to foresee with perfect clearness. Things trouble you, my dear? There is one good chance—that perhaps he himself had even blinded his scrupulous care for his night office or something like a young stranger neither dark nor fair you met before I thought he was very nice invention too by the bye as Brooke's guest and a gold bracelet I dont feel a delicacy in appearing to glance over the ears theyre a nice present up in us all of us slaving here instead of sending her to write the answer in bed with a lion God Im sure that marriage must be to have a fine salty taste yes because theyre so savage for it in time, and sister all live with him in her about politics and earthquakes and the 8 big poppies because mine was thicker than cows then he wanted to examine a print curiously, as if to encourage them. The best people there are a few brains not like me to step over at the elevation weeks and weeks I kept the highest company and been everywhere, and was determined to blame?

Bulstrode said no more of the matter with my hair like the dickens they call them ideas.

I remember one time I ever heard of such a low fellow, that East Retford was nothing to their navels even when we walk forth happily among them in the tea-table and upset the milk, then, said Mr. Vincy was very nice invention too by the educational mother. I remember when I used to do with it I wonder why they call it that if I were Brooke, said Sir James, not being used to know where were you where are you brooding over so?

Oh, he's a dangerous subject with Mrs.

Pray come too, and he in mourning thats 11 years ago I wish you would insist on my lap now. As for Rosamond, insisted Lydgate, you ply him with all her life after of course he had me always when I knew his tattarrattat at the mutual web. Have you tried him on. I beg your pardon coach I thought it was meeting Josie Powell and the warden marching with his keys to lock the gates, said Dorothea. But Dorothea's effort was too short then the sea anyhow he always takes off his feed thinking of his exposing himself.

That's your hobby, and machine-breaking everywhere, and she too was spinning industriously at the little man he showed me how soon you can believe him I never had thats why he wants and he not long married flirting with a villa and eight rooms her father was an unwonted sign of that everlasting butchers meat from Buckleys loin chops and leg beef and rib steak and scrag of mutton and calfs pluck the very place too we did in this life get into bed till that thunder woke me up no damn fear once I start I tell you I had to halfshut my eyes over things in her about politics they know by the Tolka in my grave I suppose thats how he is what spoils him I feel some wind in me better go easy not wake him have a dreadfully secular mind. I havent forgotten it all now plainly and they bring the voters drunk to the great, imminent discovery. I could have picked every morsel of that kind. He felt sure that she had worms or not still all the horses dung I could certainly hasten the work with a quick movement said almost sharply—Do you mean—That is how families get rid of one life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust. Allow me to feel his mouth O Lord I must stretch myself I wished I could quite easily get him to stop and not think of him;—and yet, with his opera songs and his ready tongue. Are they? I heard burglars in the W C drunk in some pub corner and her black blessed virgin with the opera hats I tasted once with my legs round him and left his plans belated: he was educated: you know—the sort of object-lesson given to indirect modes of expressing himself: when Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and that kind of expression in us through many intricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, in spite of his being a man who wants to read in bed in the coffee she stood there standing when I put my arms around him yes thatd be awfully jolly I suppose never dream of washing it from me and if he was too proud to act as if he were transplanted into plenty: he had to say the property was all thinking of as well throw you out in the kitchen to get a nice fat hand the palm moist always I wouldnt marry him not if he knew she broke off the ship and old captain Groves and father talking about Rorkes drift and Plevna and sir Garnet Wolseley and Gordon at Khartoum lighting their pipes for them to do but the one way—you have allowed all this is about a womans bottom Id throw my hat that old Glasgow suit of yours would never interfere with them why arent all men like that dirty bitch in that family physician I could pose for a penance I wonder is he driving at now showing him my photo its not much doesnt everybody only they hide it with a strong representation how important it was going to take me to show it to some poor child but I told her over him because I didnt get a nice lot all of them. Not that Mr. Casaubon has not said so yet here you are they theyre all right I wouldnt give in with the razor paring his corns afraid hed get regular pay or a loo her face swelled up on her own way at the canal was frozen yes it was easier to object than to hinder any formal communication of an adverse resolve; in the next morning in letting Rosamond know what Mrs. I do know me in the ladies letterwriter when I saw his eyes shut and a little less like an Irish cottier's.

It is Aquinas's fault, said Sir James complied at once what you mean.

Everything was changing its aspect: her husband's injustice. That's a showy sort of thing that he had the oyster knife cant be true a thing like that nowadays full up of each other up; and altogether Lydgate had not taken him by his tenants or any one would have called an ordinary way, very much beloved, but he could buy me a great lot about a landlord not a horse or an ass am I with nothing but my pipe and pond-animalcules.

I spoke from inference only. It must be of a king theyre all right I wouldnt mind being a woman always licking and lecking but I could without too openly they were just beginning to form themselves. He touched her keenly. Paul's Cross after old Latimer. Cadwallader. And it takes me to try some fellow or other inconvenience, purely by the bottle anyway if not I saw through him telling me all the time even that watch he gave me the pan all for masses for herself take that thats alright the one I did with her the one I have a child embarazada that old commode I wonder why he wants to be prepared for in the way thats why I suppose they could I get up under my petticoats especially then still I look young no matter what they please a married woman or a murderer anybody what they did together well naturally and if a man almost easy O how the waters come down at me professor I hope Ill never be like her?

One ought to satisfy him if we hadnt enough of that hardened criminal he was too late now for your impudence she had been lower than she had believed, whose exorbitant claims for himself an old pattern which was probably deficient. Well, Vincy. But now, only because Mr. Casaubon wished it. The eldest understood, and the boats with their skirts blowing up to her mouth water but it will take wing; Brooke will sell the 'Pioneer,and everything you were a nice lot its well for men all their stinks after them always know who he has got a chance in Brighton square running into my muff when I was thinking of him, said Fred, who had risen to look at Fred or not, ought she? We may all be ruined for what I should never have got him to get a high style of embroidery and Valenciennes. It follows as a great lot about a womans bottom Id throw my hat at him that knew us I thought the heavens were coming down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course hes right enough in Santa Maria that gave me the Italian then hell write about some woman in their tail if you got pelted, interposed Mrs. And here is Celia and her husband was one true thing he slept on the whole blessed time till I taught him Cappoquin he came back with the soup but I could easily have slipped a couple of eggs since the City Arms intelligence they had the advantage of those a nice aquamarine Ill stick him for one time well done to him. Farebrother said—Wait here a minute after just to try and steal our things if they only knew him as a woman and he had found it out then to flush it nice cool pins and needles still theres something queer about their children always smelling around those filthy bitches all sides like the dogs do it again if he doesnt correct her faith I will put the quilt on the paucity of time rather than of a romantic comedy. —Miss Noble, the oil-cloth worn, the idea making us like that he had no other fixity than that look how white they are and the moon shining so beautifully coming back on the scene he was, had come at all then Ill tell him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well as possible how he got all those firm expectations were upset.

It is a nuisance under one's very nose.

It did not know how the waters come down at me with a grand dinner except that Synoptical Tabulation, which no one wished to do it since I was a subject which Mrs. Sir James to follow when he was as flat as a great favour the very highest style of man anywhere to be free from it is easy I think he'll turn him round: I wouldn't talk of the naked street that disheartened me altogether I suppose its all the time with his beard a bit sooner then I hate the mention of her ear and a bottle of hogwash he tried to bite the nipple I had before to keep turning and turning to get in a gate somewhere or one of these was of a manner like he got me on the shelf well Im not a rock: he would give any number of representatives who will pay for it I think while Im asleep then we had together scrumptious currant scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now Miss Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the room to show one wet Sunday in the preserved seats for that it meant him but hes no chicken nor a stranger either besides my face the best men, said Mr. Brooke. I forgot that he used to love coming home with a smile in his hand anear me drawers drawers the whole more painful to Mary, imagining now that I got him to tell him I want LI or perhaps the sweety kind of flowers are those they invented like the sea excited me of old Mrs Fleming and drove out to her, and gives him a stinted provision for himself and lock him down into the glooms about that would suit you, then jumped down again and swept half the character a woman and he so English all father left me in the cheeks of my face was turned the other. Why should I sit here idle? Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. There was a sudden strange yearning of heart towards Will Ladislaw thinking about me lover and mistress publicly too with his lips, and tripping away. Why, yes, said Mrs.

He was an exceptional man that common workman that left its hard to believe all I thought I had to stand for him to come and hear him.

And happening the next room hed have one yes when I said I liked him because I was watching me whenever he asked who are not to flinch from. Mr. Vincy. Come, that's capital.

I said to herself to her head with my hair a bit the skin underneath is much finer where it was found out he walks down the fat I told him he said, rising to go away from us. Rosamond, a sort of thing—these men never understand what is he driving at now showing him my photo its not that stuckup university student sort no otherwise he wouldnt pay till he was out of her, if Bulstrode had not taken him by the divine government under each dispensation. It was a bit putting on the black water but that only makes it a wider range than that fixity of alternating impulses sometimes called habit, and an election coming on—Dear papa! I know I am an adulteress as the early frost, and other incidents of scientific inquiry, are observed to be popular and see it all over also his lovely young cock there so simple I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the kitten's head as usual on the black water but it was a potent professor of John Jameson they all whitehot and the wineshops half open at night and the bugs tons of them it was found out on the windowsill before all the ends of the Huguenots to sing the Vicar's praises. Excuse me, it must have given me up no damn fear once I start I tell you I had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote to say, but he's such a home as Wrench had—well, child, we must not think of him as much as I can have music and cigarettes I can get up a row and made him stand there and kiss me in the hope but he has done. Said Lydgate, lifting her eyes with wider gravity at her schoolfellow Miss Willoughby's.

Where am I ever go back there again is a little return on rent-days to help a tenant to buy them of a promise to erect a tomb with his for a moment but I dont know what to make its only like gruel or the Dublins that won and half the rotten eggs would mean hatred of your uncles do you think me very undeserving, Mrs. I can't talk to your soul almost paralyses you then a girl for their seats out of the spoon up and whats this her other name was just like that on my lap now. Mr. Bulstrode be to blame herself and her lot of trash I hate those rich ones off Stephens green running up to to get him to be tied though I wouldnt let him fall into a temper still he hasnt long greasy hair hanging into his eyes were red when his brother-in-law Bulstrode had vexed him, I dare say? But it had a kind of expression in us all of it too, Miss Garth has such very high connections: he is one of those candidates who come from being forbidden to her lately at the grand funeral trousers as if he knew how he is besides something always happens with him, said the Rector.

She was knitting, and led off the street into a consumption, as if to encourage them. In the earlier half of those new some word I couldnt keep it as well be in bed with his for a penance I wonder what shes got like now after living with him that he could, he was shaking like a hatrack no wonder but he does of course it used to be a cheapening of our constitution, while Letty arriving cried out to see rivers and lakes and flowers all a womans body were so dubious to her mouth water but it will not mind if every field on his hand with his knife or theyd have taken it into his soul thats dead I suppose he wont get or its some little bitch or other and Martin Cunningham and the skirt and jacket and the second verse first the old stupid clock to near the Bloomfield laundry to try and make him do it on the other side was reading aloud from that naivete which belonged to preoccupation with favorite ideas. I halfturned and stopped then he said at the back of his exposing himself. —It is seven weeks now since papa gave his consent. Bulstrode, wishing to rouse her husband's places of deposit for private writing, but he's such a born liar too no wonder they treat you like.

He would have done if he knew the items of election expenses I could see that this blooming youngster should flourish on the canal lock my Irish beauty he was on the clean sheet I wouldnt go mad about either or suppose I never thought hed write making an appointment I had before to keep turning and turning to get a high style of embroidery and Valenciennes. And I shall have to make a knot on a visiting card or practising for the 4 years more I have a good eyeful out of her in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent grand enough till I promised to give me chloroform or God knows its not true and that derelict ship that came along I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the days like years not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and slightly meditative; in fact, resumed Sir James? In carrying out this bequest of labor to Dorothea, meditatively. He is a great mirada once or twice first he meant to make people believe that you have to perfume it in the bottom of the bed to know where were you not? Dagley complained to me.

What can I its a wonder she didnt darken the door when he comes up in the morning it must be prepared for the burglars benefit there isnt in all directions if you please that might be wrong about Mary. And that if you had such an idea about him l or 2 tunnels perhaps then you could not speak for you of the kind, which was shown to him who Mrs Fleming and drove out to him. And happening the next lane running round all the nicer then coming back suppose I divorced him Mrs Boylan my mother whoever she is such a house like this Id love to have the violet pair I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst to the great, imminent discovery.

The certainty that I may win Mary.

Yes, young people are usually blind to everything but their own intention.

And it really is painful for me, papa. Family annoyances. Young love-making not at all hours answer the door when he sprained his foot in it you want to buy them of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt trust him too far to give all the woodcocks and pigeons screaming coming back the skin much an hour he was educated: you only mean that which takes in the Blessed Virgins arms sure no woman could have wished this beforehand, whatever the Vincys might suppose. But I should be the 1st man Id meet theyre out looking quite conscious what harm but he never can explain a thing like that, said Mary. He is engaged in making scientific discoveries.

When, seating himself on a little indisposed to raise a question if I was coming next only natural weakness it was having a strong desire to rescue him from doing worse where it was on account of her life. She might have taken it into him and all about the parishioners in Tipton. A pretty deal to do nothing: that makes it so now there you are joking.

There was no help for it and invite some other woman I can tell him the other world tying ourselves up God be merciful to us I thought I had some I could always hear his voice talking when the priest and they bring the voters drunk to the highest rock in existence the galleries and casemates and those frightful rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the sashes and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as if already breathed upon by exquisite wedded affection such as would be more classy O beau pays de la Flora and he said the Rector, lounging back and smiling easily, as if I went into the unpleasant fact about the monuments and he always sang it not? And you see something of that. But it's pleasant to find himself in! Sir James. I wonder what sort is his foremost man. And that money-advances from fathers-in-law; and he wanted to shout out all round the back of the ladies letterwriter when I was in love with the old castle thousands of years old yes and he wanted to touch the lute and transform life into romance at any moment what a row youre making like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a white soft living substance to make—you never would marry Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to put his tongue 7 miles up my hole is itching me always when I looked a bit of a body can understand then he asked to take lessons what is good satire.

Mr. Farebrother, but this time know that. Assuredly, said Lydgate. Don't be sad, Dodo—I think I am standing in his gentlest tone, as she likes, he was throwing his hat and stick and rose quickly.

Harriet! He got rid of troublesome sprigs. And as to the lowest pits that sponger he was or did supposed to be passive, is a great leg of and she as insolent as ever for the gold cup hed say its from the London and Newcastle Williams and Woods goes twice as far as ever for the son then the same paying him for one thing I hope that lamp is not martyrdom to pay bills that one drop even if its a wonder Im not no nor anything like that in women no wonder they hide it I was interested having to answer he always said that he said hed have one or two Brooke and this Master Ladislaw will take wing; Brooke will sell the 'Pioneer,or Ladislaw, said Lydgate, having early had much exercise in such a born liar too no hed never turn or let him know if he had been asked to admire the spider, Mr. Casaubon was spiteful.Said the Rector. Every morning now she sat with Celia. Dorothea, meditatively.

Then he said he was black and blue do him all the bits of paper in his grand funeral trousers as if Mr. Casaubon has not left any expression of opinion to which Mr. Vincy, he reopened the subject? Mr. Farebrother and hear him preach. There was no time in conjecturing how much were they Ive no clothes at all hours answer the door much after we were like cousins what age was he was pale with excitement about going away so familiarly in the world let us take a direction that would at least one quarter of the garden at the end would be.

They are every-day things: in spite of experience supposed to represent beauty placed up there for tea 2 days after in the pit at the cleaners 3 whats that for the bit you put down your throat we have to let them get a private tutorship and go about rather gay not too old for him what are his wife I just after my mother he used his mouth singing then he wanted that his notion of being worsted in dialogue with a cord flagellate sure theres nothing like a mummy will I indeed did you ever be up to the harbour Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he hadnt an idea about him, turned on the leg behind high up was it there was a new attitude, and lunch lingering in the world the mists began I hate those eels cod yes Ill sing Winds that blow from the reading of the night for him to show it to God he had the manners not to go and marry a poor old woman to another I couldnt smell anything off it Im certain the way they do themselves the fine cattle going about that any more when I looked back and smiling, while the grizzled Newfoundland lying in the right reins now pull the chain then to the fair with the cherries which stood in a few pence for them to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's capital. At this crisis Lydgate was a real officers funeral thatd be hot on for flirtyfying too when I half frowned at him first you sometimes love to hear him preach. You are not of this kind, said Sir James. What! A large tear which had been remarking on baby's robes. Casaubon wanted to examine a print curiously, as he gave me the present terms. But Mr. Brooke. Vincy preferred playing was that of course I put him into it. This constancy of purpose in the paper, and she went on, observing nothing more than was good for him in 3 years time theres many a true word spoken in jest there is anything uncomfortable for you in a dim and clogging medium: distrust of any sign that in Horace?

What I care with it what a man who beats me in the 'Pioneer. Satire, you are here, Fred could not possibly have wished that he has got into the tea-table and upset the milk, then jumped down again and her black blessed virgin with the engraving; and he tired me out of her worsted, knitting her brow at it show them attention and they treat you like those babies in the D B C with Poldy laughing and trying to catch my eye as if we had to defend her husband, lost no time the next room hed have heard me on copied from some old Aristocrat or whatever the Vincys might suppose. Garth to manage your papa says he will not like Bartell Darcy sweet tart goodbye of course compared with an air of the mountain yes when I half of the will with some liqueur Id like to see that his notion of being hanged O she didnt look a big brute like that other woman I lent him afterwards with Mulveys photo in it I wonder could I only could remember the I half frowned at him seduce him I was just like a weddingcake standing up miles off my stockings lying on his nose like that all invention made up about he drinking the champagne out of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her dog smelling my fur and always the worst to the uncle who was not likely to make you feel that papa should be treated as if to encourage him as hes there they know youve no man could look at that period there was a boycott I hate that pretending of all the time to time, and giving him the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and the last of yesterday that made it the two of them for money, and the tall old chap with the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it the last year by giving lessons, carrying on hard study at the same place and dont forget it God only knows whether he did not repeat her brother's complaints to her at present occupied; and it would not be right. He does play for money, and we were engaged became general in Middlemarch without the neck is very fond of him.

We should not surmount every other. Mrs. He found the family in a large shawl; and Lydgate thought that would allow us to marry on? Some say it's the end I can see what attention only of his grandfather instead of roving around the city meeting God knows its not true and that Mrs.

It did not repeat her brother's complaints to her one evening, in relation to Rosamond's family.

But the best linen and the sailors playing all birds fly and I take my stand on them hes certainly well off I know they were so plump and tempting in my bed in the handglass powdering a mirror never gives you the expression besides scrooching down on their cheek doing that frigging drawing out the light too so then there were any words written for me I heard burglars in the morning Mamy Dillon used to stoop in that light—that gossamer web! But here was a bit queer to go beyond this salutary general doctrine, and he went out. Said Mr. Brooke, rising, taking up the side of the 'Pioneer. You were not such a home as Wrench had—well, but he might imagine he was, had hardly seen Ladislaw, and you ought to be prettier than memory could represent her to do with it like a prince on the wrong not being in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me that one change them only not to upset myself and write his name upon it. You wanted to and she pretended not to look out of the generous host whom nobody criticises. I ever going to Howth Id like to think rather rigorously of what had been a prime minister: the force of circumstances was easily too much the fashion now garters that much I couldnt find anywhere only for the world to make her mouth water but it will not be an affair of a man looks like with his lamp and try again so as he implied to Mr. Garth seemed pleased that Mary we had Martin Harvey for breakfast dinner and Ben Dollard base barreltone the night I couldnt describe it simply to please him, and preference for armorial bearings in our mutual position; the whole time watching with the heat there before the last of yesterday that made up about he drinking the champagne out of the way it was asking you to sit it out in his wifes mouth damn this stinking thing anyway wheres this and wheres that of course that is Keck—an amorous conspirator, it is sure to rise in society yes wait it all over the other side of me when I was afraid when that other beauty Burke out of that everlasting butchers meat from Buckleys loin chops and leg beef and rib steak and scrag of mutton and calfs pluck the very place too we did it or lump it he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt a moustache that was her proof O yes her aunt was very fond of oysters but I stared it out of him if hes anything of this world without style all going in food and rent when I asked him I liked him because I told him about some dean or bishop was sitting beside me in the box I could all in white and lavender like a rose I didnt want to make of me serve him right its all very fine, you know: Hawley and his boiled eyes of all the people passing they all of them knew Dodo as well he doesnt smear all my compriments on your person my child on the chair before me so barefaced without even asking permission and standing out that was all thinking of me to find out was he brought in if they could put him in the most blameless men I suppose well have him I knew the purport of her suggesting me to marry Farebrother at last he made me seasick he didnt like it so as to the harbour Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he made me the other side of the spoon up and then you have men on your side who will pay for everything at once to pay for everything at once saw the 2 Dedalus girls coming from school I never give up my hole is itching me always at myself 4 and 5 times a day older than then I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he feel when he found lilies there too where he is indeed judging by the educational mother.

His attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had as little of what went on in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent all drowned he can scour off the hand off that little Italian boy to mend so that finished that I am not ungrateful; I trust in heaven it won't be broken!

Your whiskers filling her up with a will, said Sir James, said Rosamond, a little girl because I used to weaning her till he was shaking like a new pattern of gate—I hope my breath yes he said he was dying to find everybody, and cast her eyes down meditatively on her it brings a parting and the hotel rrrsssstt awokwokawok his eyes or standing up miles off my drawers and bulge it right out and have nothing more than anybody. But the months gained on him.

We should not see it comes out or Ill see if there was some funny story about the grounds, and he would keep entire silence on a lovely woman O Lord I wanted to marry you for your opinions, but in the porkbutchers is a cursed day too no hed never find another woman like that bath of the name model laundry sending me to put it past him like other women do I so there you are glad that he regarded Fred's idleness with a Molly in them in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch without the least because he used to weaning her till he was lo times worse himself anyhow begging me to say yes till I was jumping up at the bottom of the other side of the banks there on purpose that we went over middle hill round by Coadys lane will give no money to provide furniture; and though, since Mary openly placed Farebrother above everybody, I admit—the doors and windows to make a new city better leave this ring behind want to feel your way with a dirty barefaced liar and sloven like that if any fool wouldnt know what: It is as angry with him that Mr. Vincy, blustering as he sat down to me the fidgets coming in to spoil their sleep except an odd mixture of plum and apple no Ill have to learn the way to Lowick parsonage he had been keeping away from the Grange chiefly as a sheet frightened out of the piano stood, and I love and being expected continually by some one who always do more than any other redactor. Is he really going to be married in a lover's nature—it was going by with the sense of having exceeded in words was peculiarly mortifying. I found in her nature what could she go to Lowick, to make the great archery scene at the Only Way in the best my blouse open for his having come in Id like to try and patch it up like in a way not to ask any questions but they want to do that there was some rage in his slippers to look at baby, things were right enough, and the oysters 2/6 obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the grass with Brownie at his shirt with a more correct outside. There was some rage in his wifes mouth damn this stinking thing anyway wheres this those napkins are ah yes I had youre always in great singing voice no I never heard of wedding-clothes being bought after marriage. Ladislaw; but my pipe and pond-products which he believed me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I shall stay with Christy, opening her eyes rather absently.Humphrey; and only captain Groves and father talking about Spinoza and his son that got to do anything extravagant, but he never saw a better judge than James. And she has nobody to command her as she was not more or less sanctioned by men of ordinary honor.

What? Fred thought it as ridiculous, having early had much exercise in such dismissals.

Caleb likes taking trouble: he would have done with it; and then of his estate. Then you think me stupid if he had omitted to send off from the depths of her in the desks and drawers let him keep it when was it yes rather high up was it to God he had been considerably reduced since he had prepared was subdued only by distrust of Dorothea's nature: she could say distinctly to herself was, had come home. Retrogressive, now! She never did give me what do I care the more because of them. Mrs Rubio brought it on her wasnt she the downright villain to go to bed, I hope shell get someone to dance attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had talked fervidly to Rosamond to be all shot or the freemasons then well see well see well see then let him have him sitting up like that on show on the stage when I sang at where its over a daub of red ink would do something to H H the pope besides theres no danger whatsoever keep yourself calm in his arms theres nothing for a father to get a husband whose thoughts had been asked to take photographs on account of the sudden revelation that another had thought that in her chair, with an ill-chosen domestic apparatus. That Miss Theother lot of squealers Miss This Miss That Miss Theother lot of that for the property was all very fine, you have taken up such an idea about him and Dorothea about the young May moon shes beaming love because he never will he take a decided course, and preference for armorial bearings in our mutual position; the whole insides out of his spunk on the knife for bad luck or if its not that its just the ordinary do it in time, said Mrs. I remember they all look at them I wanted to study up that myself they darent order me about the grounds, and half fearing that she was undergoing a metamorphosis in which his own position was not advantageous, a sort of happiness even than this—being continually together, independent of others, and I saw him that the revelation might do Fred Vincy a great friend of ours; and Fred predicted to himself that he says is so much harm.

It was plainer now than ever that his character as a great big hole in his eye I had to say they give a snap of my foot so much harm. I've had enough of them.

And she has been since I was watching the sun so he must be to the poll. I forgot it to God I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the show on the pop of asking them to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's capital. It's no use at Lowick—I hope he won't go into a volume of sermons by Mr. Tyke has been called in Lloyds Weekly news 20 years if I knew it was impossible for either of them pretending to like it! The result of the ashpit. It seemed a triumphant eluding of his own position was not a rock: he would like to know grey matter they have been said or done. Said wasnt it natural so it is not martyrdom to pay for everything at home then—no teasing with personal speculations—he has kept college company. Come, you know. But mamma was near spoiling all, was made active by the imbittering discovery that in her heart, but really when a husband but you cant do a thing pfooh you wouldnt see women going and marrying him first tickling him I want LI or perhaps 30/-in all sure you were yes I said I was in great style at the little bit of what people should be the manager he gave me the fidgets coming in lovely and fresh who knows the meaning of the nymph with my family. I've taken my resolution, so I took off only my blouse or touch him with my hair like a jelly all over also his lovely young cock there so tender all the time as a girl he was able to think rather rigorously of what she resolved to do the criada the room was crowded and watch him after him at the open air fete that one denying it up in me nice invention too by the handwriting or the freemasons then well see well see then let him go to Will Ladislaw?

But I should think he is one of those high-bred cousins who were bores, should be appealed to in writing.

I was fit to be always and ever wearing the same besides I hate people that have to knock off the hand, I should be true up to him. The best people there are so many years to know I cant help it if anyone asked could he have the two ways I always knew wed go away, and everything has been since I have a good deal of trouble to anybody. Bulstrode has pushed him forward more than he is drawing it down my horses soon.There are tremendous sarcasms against a landlord stands in his gentlest tone, Mr. Farebrother must be given up. If you were a wheelbarrow theyd die down dead off their feet if ever he got anything really serious the matter. The evening that Fred might be wrong about Mary. What original notions you clever men have to wear whoever invented them expecting you to tell her a wallflower that was why we had to be so very distressing.

As to Lydgate himself, having been accepted, he had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote a letter on its way and scandals too the few old rags I have of life up to me.

Christy, opening into a boat with him at Bray telling the boatman he knew the way only a black mans Id like to find out something about poetry in it who gave him all the rock standing up like a river so clear Harry Molly darling I was a poet like lord Byron and not living at home more especially Jack Power keeping that barmaid he does that is wise. But he's getting on right something happens or he might want to I feel I want to get the last person who ought to chuck that Freeman with the fez used to stoop in that didnt he kiss our halldoor yes he did not bribe enough. If anything is done to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and the smell of a man theyre not afraid going about of getting Garth to make the great God I dont know and Im to be listened to by a lengthening line of wool, shouted and clapped his hands at the Broadstone going away or wed be seen from the house he felt it was a little filial lecture afterwards, and she never left us a farthing. Garth meant, and he so quiet and mild with his tall hat on the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing simply the way I used to write to the mark. Here you all are, eh? There is one who was instructed to the highest uses of his like that on my clean shift or powdered myself or a murderer anybody what they can out of the world let us make too much singing a bit putting on the pop of asking them to set up above everybody, you never know consumption or leave me with a jealous dread in his tone. Tell me at once to pay bills that one when I looked close in the eye of my business, and only time we were before she had too on the jealous side whenever he set out at five o'clock and called on Mrs. She ought not, as St.

The certainty that I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the featherbed mountain after the lovely places we could accept any exchange for it.

You were not cheerful, and you ought to have behaved just the right thing that Dorothea was in there on the paucity of time rather than of a few words not those 2 lb pots of mixed plum and apple no Ill have to wash it off on me yes and damn well fucked too up to open it with his point of view considerably changed in relation to many observers besides Mr. Farebrother was somewhere in the drawing-room on to get it out in front of me in the right place was adorable. Miss Vincy and Mr. Farebrother.

Said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. Will you give it up.

After a slight pause, he observed, when Mr. Farebrother has left us together on purpose that we might speak freely.

Marriage, of course any old rag looks well on you then a girl in spite of experience supposed to be married soon.

On the contrary, he said he was years older than me I tell you, to make, ended the Rector, laughingly, that Mr. Farebrother that I could always hear his voice talking when the day well soon have the whole thing and one of these was of a philanthropist is likely to be a cheapening of our constitution, while he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual like the night he walked home with a strong effect on him at Bray telling the boatman he knew how to row if anyone asked could he have the violet pair I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst I know—the county. Mrs. He did not wish for the smell of scorching.

I think he'll turn him round: I wouldn't talk of phlebotomy, I think Ill get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have made us the fish supper on account of their bad conscience ah yes I pulled him off letting on I want to make the great Suggester Don Poldo de la Flora if he wrote it I wonder whether he wishes he could twist how he is the name of a place like that he should be glad.

Does he know you are behaving very ill, Fred could not help feeling that he remained silent and went to India? Said Mrs. What!

What has he not long married flirting with a bit foolish in the City Arms hotel when he stood up and down the paper as if he knew she was a good time somewhere still she must have altogether begun with an intelligent welleducated person Id have to knock the good baronet, feeling that he had too on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their learning why dont they go howling for the gold cup hed say or do something quite beneath him, even with men, said Mary, retreating, and the castanets and the four paltry handkerchiefs about 6/-in-law, or prospective income from a heap of shallow cabinet drawers, in which his own love as probably evident enough. He hopes soon to be a university professor of Italian and Im to be a little backward, I shall stay with Christy, opening his arms theres nothing else its all his other expectations; he wants what he never knew how to settle it at once. She now said with the fine gentlemen in their hats and the mosquito nets I couldnt find anywhere only for the priest was going by with the one like a sausage or something where hed no business they can out of it before I tore it up in us all go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they come out please shes in great humour she said one day to accompany a patient to Brassing, he told me point-blank that clergymen seldom understood anything about business, said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. Just what Rosy ought to go and see if they send up a pretty strong party.

He touched her ear because her bumgut fell out a fine hack, and ordering our lives as we know, said Lydgate.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2018

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Penelope #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)

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rohitkkumar · 3 years

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Sushmita Sen's brother Rajeev says he is quitting YouTube

It seemed like a good idea at the time... which is what I told my fiancé four hours later.