#XL the Capricious

[mellowwillowy]

White Day

Why yes, Yandere who gives you poisoned chocolates with a straight smile, antidote hidden underneath their sleeve as they watch you crumble from the poison.

They'd feign ignorance and all, asking you all sorts of questions while you writhe in pain, leaning against them for support, mentally and physically.

Then, oh! They just have the cure for it! Here, drink this.

A fucking cure that is somehow brewed with aphrodisiac.

Now you are all bothered in heat, humping against their thigh and begging for relief. How about a kiss? Does that help? No? You are suggesting you need something 'more'?

And there you go, folded into a mating press, whimpering and moaning like a bitch in heat <3

#Erickson the Chosen #XL the Capricious #Caelus the Henchman #Noel is a sweetheart #he won't do this #CatboX #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere smut #x GN Reader

[idleiji]

Forgot to post this!!!!

You can see me slowly giving up each panel....

#kiki the magician #dol pc #my art #dol fanart #dol art #my artwork #XL the capricious

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 40-41

XL.

THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW.

When the first bitterness was over, the family accepted the inevitable, and tried to bear it cheerfully, helping one another by the increased affection which comes to bind households tenderly together in times of trouble. They put away their grief, and each did his or her part toward making that last year a happy one.

The pleasantest room in the house was set apart for Beth, and in it was gathered everything that she most loved,—flowers, pictures, her piano, the little work-table, and the beloved pussies. Father's best books found their way there, mother's easy-chair, Jo's desk, Amy's finest sketches; and every day Meg brought her babies on a loving pilgrimage, to make sunshine for Aunty Beth. John quietly set apart a little 496 sum, that he might enjoy the pleasure of keeping the invalid supplied with the fruit she loved and longed for; old Hannah never wearied of concocting dainty dishes to tempt a capricious appetite, dropping tears as she worked; and from across the sea came little gifts and cheerful letters, seeming to bring breaths of warmth and fragrance from lands that know no winter.

Here, cherished like a household saint in its shrine, sat Beth, tranquil and busy as ever; for nothing could change the sweet, unselfish nature, and even while preparing to leave life, she tried to make it happier for those who should remain behind. The feeble fingers were never idle, and one of her pleasures was to make little things for the school-children daily passing to and fro,—to drop a pair of mittens from her window for a pair of purple hands, a needle-book for some small mother of many dolls, pen-wipers for young penmen toiling through forests of pot-hooks, scrap-books for picture-loving eyes, and all manner of pleasant devices, till the reluctant climbers up the ladder of learning found their way strewn with flowers, as it were, and came to regard the gentle giver as a sort of fairy godmother, who sat above there, and showered down gifts miraculously suited to their tastes and needs. If Beth had wanted any reward, she found it in the bright little faces always turned up to her window, with nods and smiles, and the droll little letters which came to her, full of blots and gratitude.

The first few months were very happy ones, and Beth often used to look round, and say "How beautiful this is!" as they all sat together in her sunny room, the babies kicking and crowing on the floor, mother and sisters working near, and father reading, in his pleasant voice, from the wise old books which seemed rich in good and comfortable words, as applicable now as when written centuries ago; a little chapel, where a paternal priest taught his flock the hard lessons all must learn, trying to show them that hope can comfort love, and faith make resignation possible. Simple sermons, that went straight to the souls of those who listened; for the father's heart was in the minister's religion, and the frequent falter in the voice gave a double eloquence to the words he spoke or read.

It was well for all that this peaceful time was given them as preparation 497 for the sad hours to come; for, by and by, Beth said the needle was "so heavy," and put it down forever; talking wearied her, faces troubled her, pain claimed her for its own, and her tranquil spirit was sorrowfully perturbed by the ills that vexed her feeble flesh. Ah me! such heavy days, such long, long nights, such aching hearts and imploring prayers, when those who loved her best were forced to see the thin hands stretched out to them beseechingly, to hear the bitter cry, "Help me, help me!" and to feel that there was no help. A sad eclipse of the serene soul, a sharp struggle of the young life with death; but both were mercifully brief, and then, the natural rebellion over, the old peace returned more beautiful than ever. With the wreck of her frail body, Beth's soul grew strong; and, though she said little, those about her felt that she was ready, saw that the first pilgrim called was likewise the fittest, and waited with her on the shore, trying to see the Shining Ones coming to receive her when she crossed the river.

Jo never left her for an hour since Beth had said, "I feel stronger when you are here." She slept on a couch in the room, waking often to renew the fire, to feed, lift, or wait upon the patient creature who seldom asked for anything, and "tried not to be a trouble." All day she haunted the room, jealous of any other nurse, and prouder of being chosen then than of any honor her life ever brought her. Precious and helpful hours to Jo, for now her heart received the teaching that it needed; lessons in patience were so sweetly taught her that she could not fail to learn them; charity for all, the lovely spirit that can forgive and truly forget unkindness, the loyalty to duty that makes the hardest easy, and the sincere faith that fears nothing, but trusts undoubtingly.

Often, when she woke, Jo found Beth reading in her well-worn little book, heard her singing softly, to beguile the sleepless night, or saw her lean her face upon her hands, while slow tears dropped through the transparent fingers; and Jo would lie watching her, with thoughts too deep for tears, feeling that Beth, in her simple, unselfish way, was trying to wean herself from the dear old life, and fit herself for the life to come, by sacred words of comfort, quiet prayers, and the music she loved so well.

498 Seeing this did more for Jo than the wisest sermons, the saintliest hymns, the most fervent prayers that any voice could utter; for, with eyes made clear by many tears, and a heart softened by the tenderest sorrow, she recognized the beauty of her sister's life,—uneventful, unambitious, yet full of the genuine virtues which "smell sweet, and blossom in the dust," the self-forgetfulness that makes the humblest on earth remembered soonest in heaven, the true success which is possible to all.

One night, when Beth looked among the books upon her table, to find something to make her forget the mortal weariness that was almost as hard to bear as pain, as she turned the leaves of her old favorite Pilgrim's Progress, she found a little paper, scribbled over in Jo's hand. The name caught her eye, and the blurred look of the lines made her sure that tears had fallen on it.

"Poor Jo! she's fast asleep, so I won't wake her to ask leave; she shows me all her things, and I don't think she'll mind if I look at this," thought Beth, with a glance at her sister, who lay on the rug, with the tongs beside her, ready to wake up the minute the log fell apart.

"MY BETH.

"Sitting patient in the shadow

Till the blessed light shall come,

A serene and saintly presence

Sanctifies our troubled home.

Earthly joys and hopes and sorrows

Break like ripples on the strand

Of the deep and solemn river

Where her willing feet now stand.

"O my sister, passing from me,

Out of human care and strife,

Leave me, as a gift, those virtues

Which have beautified your life.

Dear, bequeath me that great patience

Which has power to sustain

A cheerful, uncomplaining spirit

In its prison-house of pain.

499 "Give me, for I need it sorely,

Of that courage, wise and sweet,

Which has made the path of duty

Green beneath your willing feet.

Give me that unselfish nature,

That with charity divine

Can pardon wrong for love's dear sake—

Meek heart, forgive me mine!

"Thus our parting daily loseth

Something of its bitter pain,

And while learning this hard lesson,

My great loss becomes my gain.

For the touch of grief will render

My wild nature more serene,

Give to life new aspirations,

A new trust in the unseen.

"Henceforth, safe across the river,

I shall see forevermore

A beloved, household spirit

Waiting for me on the shore.

Hope and faith, born of my sorrow,

Guardian angels shall become,

And the sister gone before me

By their hands shall lead me home."

Blurred and blotted, faulty and feeble, as the lines were, they brought a look of inexpressible comfort to Beth's face, for her one regret had been that she had done so little; and this seemed to assure her that her life had not been useless, that her death would not bring the despair she feared. As she sat with the paper folded between her hands, the charred log fell asunder. Jo started up, revived the blaze, and crept to the bedside, hoping Beth slept.

"Not asleep, but so happy, dear. See, I found this and read it; I knew you wouldn't care. Have I been all that to you, Jo?" she asked, with wistful, humble earnestness.

"O Beth, so much, so much!" and Jo's head went down upon the pillow, beside her sister's.

"Then I don't feel as if I'd wasted my life. I'm not so good as you make me, but I have tried to do right; and now, when it's too 500 late to begin even to do better, it's such a comfort to know that some one loves me so much, and feels as if I'd helped them."

"More than any one in the world, Beth. I used to think I couldn't let you go; but I'm learning to feel that I don't lose you; that you'll be more to me than ever, and death can't part us, though it seems to."

"I know it cannot, and I don't fear it any longer, for I'm sure I shall be your Beth still, to love and help you more than ever. You must take my place, Jo, and be everything to father and mother when I'm gone. They will turn to you, don't fail them; and if it's hard to work alone, remember that I don't forget you, and that you'll be happier in doing that than writing splendid books or seeing all the world; for love is the only thing that we can carry with us when we go, and it makes the end so easy."

"I'll try, Beth;" and then and there Jo renounced her old ambition, pledged herself to a new and better one, acknowledging the poverty of other desires, and feeling the blessed solace of a belief in the immortality of love.

So the spring days came and went, the sky grew clearer, the earth greener, the flowers were up fair and early, and the birds came back in time to say good-by to Beth, who, like a tired but trustful child, clung to the hands that had led her all her life, as father and mother guided her tenderly through the Valley of the Shadow, and gave her up to God.

Seldom, except in books, do the dying utter memorable words, see visions, or depart with beatified countenances; and those who have sped many parting souls know that to most the end comes as naturally and simply as sleep. As Beth had hoped, the "tide went out easily;" and in the dark hour before the dawn, on the bosom where she had drawn her first breath, she quietly drew her last, with no farewell but one loving look, one little sigh.

With tears and prayers and tender hands, mother and sisters made her ready for the long sleep that pain would never mar again, seeing with grateful eyes the beautiful serenity that soon replaced the pathetic patience that had wrung their hearts so long, and feeling, with reverent joy, that to their darling death was a benignant angel, not a phantom full of dread.

501 When morning came, for the first time in many months the fire was out, Jo's place was empty, and the room was very still. But a bird sang blithely on a budding bough, close by, the snow-drops blossomed freshly at the window, and the spring sunshine streamed in like a benediction over the placid face upon the pillow,—a face so full of painless peace that those who loved it best smiled through their tears, and thanked God that Beth was well at last.

502

XLI.

LEARNING TO FORGET.

Amy's lecture did Laurie good, though, of course, he did not own it till long afterward; men seldom do, for when women are the advisers, the lords of creation don't take the advice till they have persuaded themselves that it is just what they intended to do; then they act upon it, and, if it succeeds, they give the weaker vessel half the credit of it; if it fails, they generously give her the whole. Laurie went back to his grandfather, and was so dutifully devoted for several weeks that the old gentleman declared the climate of Nice had improved him wonderfully, and he had better try it again. There was nothing the young gentleman would have liked better, but elephants could not have dragged him back after the scolding he had received; pride forbid, and whenever the longing grew very strong, he fortified 503 his resolution by repeating the words that had made the deepest impression, "I despise you;" "Go and do something splendid that will make her love you."

Laurie turned the matter over in his mind so often that he soon brought himself to confess that he had been selfish and lazy; but then when a man has a great sorrow, he should be indulged in all sorts of vagaries till he has lived it down. He felt that his blighted affections were quite dead now; and, though he should never cease to be a faithful mourner, there was no occasion to wear his weeds ostentatiously. Jo wouldn't love him, but he might make her respect and admire him by doing something which should prove that a girl's "No" had not spoilt his life. He had always meant to do something, and Amy's advice was quite unnecessary. He had only been waiting till the aforesaid blighted affections were decently interred; that being done, he felt that he was ready to "hide his stricken heart, and still toil on."

As Goethe, when he had a joy or a grief, put it into a song, so Laurie resolved to embalm his love-sorrow in music, and compose a Requiem which should harrow up Jo's soul and melt the heart of every hearer. Therefore the next time the old gentleman found him getting restless and moody, and ordered him off, he went to Vienna, where he had musical friends, and fell to work with the firm determination to distinguish himself. But, whether the sorrow was too vast to be embodied in music, or music too ethereal to uplift a mortal woe, he soon discovered that the Requiem was beyond him, just at present. It was evident that his mind was not in working order yet, and his ideas needed clarifying; for often in the middle of a plaintive strain, he would find himself humming a dancing tune that vividly recalled the Christmas ball at Nice, especially the stout Frenchman, and put an effectual stop to tragic composition for the time being.

Then he tried an Opera, for nothing seemed impossible in the beginning; but here, again, unforeseen difficulties beset him. He wanted Jo for his heroine, and called upon his memory to supply him with tender recollections and romantic visions of his love. But memory turned traitor; and, as if possessed by the perverse spirit of the girl, would only recall Jo's oddities, faults, and freaks, would only show her in the most unsentimental aspects,—beating mats with her head tied 504 up in a bandanna, barricading herself with the sofa-pillow, or throwing cold water over his passion à la Gummidge,—and an irresistible laugh spoilt the pensive picture he was endeavoring to paint. Jo wouldn't be put into the Opera at any price, and he had to give her up with a "Bless that girl, what a torment she is!" and a clutch at his hair, as became a distracted composer.

When he looked about him for another and a less intractable damsel to immortalize in melody, memory produced one with the most obliging readiness. This phantom wore many faces, but it always had golden hair, was enveloped in a diaphanous cloud, and floated airily before his mind's eye in a pleasing chaos of roses, peacocks, white ponies, and blue ribbons. He did not give the complacent wraith any name, but he took her for his heroine, and grew quite fond of her, as well he might; for he gifted her with every gift and grace under the sun, and escorted her, unscathed, through trials which would have annihilated any mortal woman.

Thanks to this inspiration, he got on swimmingly for a time, but gradually the work lost its charm, and he forgot to compose, while he sat musing, pen in hand, or roamed about the gay city to get new ideas and refresh his mind, which seemed to be in a somewhat unsettled state that winter. He did not do much, but he thought a great deal and was conscious of a change of some sort going on in spite of himself. "It's genius simmering, perhaps. I'll let it simmer, and see what comes of it," he said, with a secret suspicion, all the while, that it wasn't genius, but something far more common. Whatever it was, it simmered to some purpose, for he grew more and more discontented with his desultory life, began to long for some real and earnest work to go at, soul and body, and finally came to the wise conclusion that every one who loved music was not a composer. Returning from one of Mozart's grand operas, splendidly performed at the Royal Theatre, he looked over his own, played a few of the best parts, sat staring up at the busts of Mendelssohn, Beethoven, and Bach, who stared benignly back again; then suddenly he tore up his music-sheets, one by one, and, as the last fluttered out of his hand, he said soberly to himself,—

"She is right! Talent isn't genius, and you can't make it so. 505 That music has taken the vanity out of me as Rome took it out of her, and I won't be a humbug any longer. Now what shall I do?"

That seemed a hard question to answer, and Laurie began to wish he had to work for his daily bread. Now, if ever, occurred an eligible opportunity for "going to the devil," as he once forcibly expressed it, for he had plenty of money and nothing to do, and Satan is proverbially fond of providing employment for full and idle hands. The poor fellow had temptations enough from without and from within, but he withstood them pretty well; for, much as he valued liberty, he valued good faith and confidence more, so his promise to his grandfather, and his desire to be able to look honestly into the eyes of the women who loved him, and say "All's well," kept him safe and steady.

Very likely some Mrs. Grundy will observe, "I don't believe it; boys will be boys, young men must sow their wild oats, and women must not expect miracles." I dare say you don't, Mrs. Grundy, but it's true nevertheless. Women work a good many miracles, and I have a persuasion that they may perform even that of raising the standard of manhood by refusing to echo such sayings. Let the boys be boys, the longer the better, and let the young men sow their wild oats if they must; but mothers, sisters, and friends may help to make the crop a small one, and keep many tares from spoiling the harvest, by believing, and showing that they believe, in the possibility of loyalty to the virtues which make men manliest in good women's eyes. If it is a feminine delusion, leave us to enjoy it while we may, for without it half the beauty and the romance of life is lost, and sorrowful forebodings would embitter all our hopes of the brave, tender-hearted little lads, who still love their mothers better than themselves, and are not ashamed to own it.

Laurie thought that the task of forgetting his love for Jo would absorb all his powers for years; but, to his great surprise, he discovered it grew easier every day. He refused to believe it at first, got angry with himself, and couldn't understand it; but these hearts of ours are curious and contrary things, and time and nature work their will in spite of us. Laurie's heart wouldn't ache; the wound persisted in healing with a rapidity that astonished him, and, instead of trying to forget, he found himself trying to remember. He had not foreseen 506 this turn of affairs, and was not prepared for it. He was disgusted with himself, surprised at his own fickleness, and full of a queer mixture of disappointment and relief that he could recover from such a tremendous blow so soon. He carefully stirred up the embers of his lost love, but they refused to burst into a blaze: there was only a comfortable glow that warmed and did him good without putting him into a fever, and he was reluctantly obliged to confess that the boyish passion was slowly subsiding into a more tranquil sentiment, very tender, a little sad and resentful still, but that was sure to pass away in time, leaving a brotherly affection which would last unbroken to the end.

As the word "brotherly" passed through his mind in one of these reveries, he smiled, and glanced up at the picture of Mozart that was before him:—

"Well, he was a great man; and when he couldn't have one sister he took the other, and was happy."

Laurie did not utter the words, but he thought them; and the next instant kissed the little old ring, saying to himself,—

"No, I won't! I haven't forgotten, I never can. I'll try again, and if that fails, why, then—"

Leaving his sentence unfinished, he seized pen and paper and wrote to Jo, telling her that he could not settle to anything while there was the least hope of her changing her mind. Couldn't she, wouldn't she, and let him come home and be happy? While waiting for an answer he did nothing, but he did it energetically, for he was in a fever of impatience. It came at last, and settled his mind effectually on one point, for Jo decidedly couldn't and wouldn't. She was wrapped up in Beth, and never wished to hear the word "love" again. Then she begged him to be happy with somebody else, but always to keep a little corner of his heart for his loving sister Jo. In a postscript she desired him not to tell Amy that Beth was worse; she was coming home in the spring, and there was no need of saddening the remainder of her stay. That would be time enough, please God, but Laurie must write to her often, and not let her feel lonely, homesick, or anxious.

"So I will, at once. Poor little girl; it will be a sad going home for her, I'm afraid;" and Laurie opened his desk, as if writing to 507 Amy had been the proper conclusion of the sentence left unfinished some weeks before.

But he did not write the letter that day; for, as he rummaged out his best paper, he came across something which changed his purpose. Tumbling about in one part of the desk, among bills, passports, and business documents of various kinds, were several of Jo's letters, and in another compartment were three notes from Amy, carefully tied up with one of her blue ribbons, and sweetly suggestive of the little dead roses put away inside. With a half-repentant, half-amused expression, Laurie gathered up all Jo's letters, smoothed, folded, and put them neatly into a small drawer of the desk, stood a minute turning the ring thoughtfully on his finger, then slowly drew it off, laid it with the 508 letters, locked the drawer, and went out to hear High Mass at Saint Stefan's, feeling as if there had been a funeral; and, though not overwhelmed with affliction, this seemed a more proper way to spend the rest of the day than in writing letters to charming young ladies.

The letter went very soon, however, and was promptly answered, for Amy was homesick, and confessed it in the most delightfully confiding manner. The correspondence flourished famously, and letters flew to and fro, with unfailing regularity, all through the early spring. Laurie sold his busts, made allumettes of his opera, and went back to Paris, hoping somebody would arrive before long. He wanted desperately to go to Nice, but would not till he was asked; and Amy would not ask him, for just then she was having little experiences of her own, which made her rather wish to avoid the quizzical eyes of "our boy."

Fred Vaughn had returned, and put the question to which she had once decided to answer "Yes, thank you;" but now she said, "No, thank you," kindly but steadily; for, when the time came, her courage failed her, and she found that something more than money and position was needed to satisfy the new longing that filled her heart so full of tender hopes and fears. The words, "Fred is a good fellow, but not at all the man I fancied you would ever like," and Laurie's face when he uttered them, kept returning to her as pertinaciously as her own did when she said in look, if not in words, "I shall marry for money." It troubled her to remember that now, she wished she could take it back, it sounded so unwomanly. She didn't want Laurie to think her a heartless, worldly creature; she didn't care to be a queen of society now half so much as she did to be a lovable woman; she was so glad he didn't hate her for the dreadful things she said, but took them so beautifully, and was kinder than ever. His letters were such a comfort, for the home letters were very irregular, and were not half so satisfactory as his when they did come. It was not only a pleasure, but a duty to answer them, for the poor fellow was forlorn, and needed petting, since Jo persisted in being stony-hearted. She ought to have made an effort, and tried to love him; it couldn't be very hard, many people would be proud and glad to have such a dear boy care for them; but Jo never would act like 509 other girls, so there was nothing to do but be very kind, and treat him like a brother.

If all brothers were treated as well as Laurie was at this period, they would be a much happier race of beings than they are. Amy never lectured now; she asked his opinion on all subjects; she was interested in everything he did, made charming little presents for him, and sent him two letters a week, full of lively gossip, sisterly confidences, and captivating sketches of the lovely scenes about her. As few brothers are complimented by having their letters carried about in their sisters' pockets, read and reread diligently, cried over when short, kissed when long, and treasured carefully, we will not hint that Amy did any of these fond and foolish things. But she certainly did grow a little pale and pensive that spring, lost much of her relish for society, and went out sketching alone a good deal. She never had much to show when she came home, but was studying nature, I dare say, while she sat for hours, with her hands folded, on the terrace at Valrosa, or absently sketched any fancy that occurred to her,—a stalwart knight carved on a tomb, a young man asleep in the grass, with his hat over his eyes, or a curly-haired girl in gorgeous array, promenading down a ball-room on the arm of a tall gentleman, both faces being left a blur according to the last fashion in art, which was safe, but not altogether satisfactory.

Her aunt thought that she regretted her answer to Fred; and, finding denials useless and explanations impossible, Amy left her to think what she liked, taking care that Laurie should know that Fred had gone to Egypt. That was all, but he understood it, and looked relieved, as he said to himself, with a venerable air,—

"I was sure she would think better of it. Poor old fellow! I've been through it all, and I can sympathize."

With that he heaved a great sigh, and then, as if he had discharged his duty to the past, put his feet up on the sofa, and enjoyed Amy's letter luxuriously.

While these changes were going on abroad, trouble had come at home; but the letter telling that Beth was failing never reached Amy, and when the next found her, the grass was green above her sister. The sad news met her at Vevay, for the heat had driven them from 510 Nice in May, and they had travelled slowly to Switzerland, by way of Genoa and the Italian lakes. She bore it very well, and quietly submitted to the family decree that she should not shorten her visit, for, since it was too late to say good-by to Beth, she had better stay, and let absence soften her sorrow. But her heart was very heavy; she longed to be at home, and every day looked wistfully across the lake, waiting for Laurie to come and comfort her.

He did come very soon; for the same mail brought letters to them both, but he was in Germany, and it took some days to reach him. The moment he read it, he packed his knapsack, bade adieu to his fellow-pedestrians, and was off to keep his promise, with a heart full of joy and sorrow, hope and suspense.

He knew Vevay well; and as soon as the boat touched the little quay, he hurried along the shore to La Tour, where the Carrols were living en pension. The garçon was in despair that the whole family had gone to take a promenade on the lake; but no, the blond mademoiselle might be in the chateau garden. If monsieur would give himself the pain of sitting down, a flash of time should present her. But monsieur could not wait even "a flash of time," and, in the middle of the speech, departed to find mademoiselle himself.

A pleasant old garden on the borders of the lovely lake, with chestnuts rustling overhead, ivy climbing everywhere, and the black shadow of the tower falling far across the sunny water. At one corner of the wide, low wall was a seat, and here Amy often came to read or work, or console herself with the beauty all about her. She was sitting here that day, leaning her head on her hand, with a homesick heart and heavy eyes, thinking of Beth, and wondering why Laurie did not come. She did not hear him cross the court-yard beyond, nor see him pause in the archway that led from the subterranean path into the garden. He stood a minute, looking at her with new eyes, seeing what no one had ever seen before,—the tender side of Amy's character. Everything about her mutely suggested love and sorrow,—the blotted letters in her lap, the black ribbon that tied up her hair, the womanly pain and patience in her face; even the little ebony cross at her throat seemed pathetic to Laurie, for he had given it to her, and she wore it as her only ornament. If he had any doubts about the reception she 511 would give him, they were set at rest the minute she looked up and saw him; for, dropping everything, she ran to him, exclaiming, in a tone of unmistakable love and longing,—

"O Laurie, Laurie, I knew you'd come to me!"

I think everything was said and settled then; for, as they stood together quite silent for a moment, with the dark head bent down protectingly over the light one, Amy felt that no one could comfort and sustain her so well as Laurie, and Laurie decided that Amy was the only woman in the world who could fill Jo's place, and make him happy. He did not tell her so; but she was not disappointed, for both felt the truth, were satisfied, and gladly left the rest to silence.

In a minute Amy went back to her place; and, while she dried her tears, Laurie gathered up the scattered papers, finding in the sight of sundry well-worn letters and suggestive sketches good omens for the future. As he sat down beside her, Amy felt shy again, and turned rosy red at the recollection of her impulsive greeting.

"I couldn't help it; I felt so lonely and sad, and was so very glad 512 to see you. It was such a surprise to look up and find you, just as I was beginning to fear you wouldn't come," she said, trying in vain to speak quite naturally.

"I came the minute I heard. I wish I could say something to comfort you for the loss of dear little Beth; but I can only feel, and—" He could not get any further, for he, too, turned bashful all of a sudden, and did not quite know what to say. He longed to lay Amy's head down on his shoulder, and tell her to have a good cry, but he did not dare; so took her hand instead, and gave it a sympathetic squeeze that was better than words.

"You needn't say anything; this comforts me," she said softly. "Beth is well and happy, and I mustn't wish her back; but I dread the going home, much as I long to see them all. We won't talk about it now, for it makes me cry, and I want to enjoy you while you stay. You needn't go right back, need you?"

"Not if you want me, dear."

"I do, so much. Aunt and Flo are very kind; but you seem like one of the family, and it would be so comfortable to have you for a little while."

Amy spoke and looked so like a homesick child, whose heart was full, that Laurie forgot his bashfulness all at once, and gave her just what she wanted,—the petting she was used to and the cheerful conversation she needed.

"Poor little soul, you look as if you'd grieved yourself half-sick! I'm going to take care of you, so don't cry any more, but come and walk about with me; the wind is too chilly for you to sit still," he said, in the half-caressing, half-commanding way that Amy liked, as he tied on her hat, drew her arm through his, and began to pace up and down the sunny walk, under the new-leaved chestnuts. He felt more at ease upon his legs; and Amy found it very pleasant to have a strong arm to lean upon, a familiar face to smile at her, and a kind voice to talk delightfully for her alone.

The quaint old garden had sheltered many pairs of lovers, and seemed expressly made for them, so sunny and secluded was it, with nothing but the tower to overlook them, and the wide lake to carry away the echo of their words, as it rippled by below. For an hour 513 this new pair walked and talked, or rested on the wall, enjoying the sweet influences which gave such a charm to time and place; and when an unromantic dinner-bell warned them away, Amy felt as if she left her burden of loneliness and sorrow behind her in the chateau garden.

The moment Mrs. Carrol saw the girl's altered face, she was illuminated with a new idea, and exclaimed to herself, "Now I understand it all,—the child has been pining for young Laurence. Bless my heart, I never thought of such a thing!"

With praiseworthy discretion, the good lady said nothing, and betrayed no sign of enlightenment; but cordially urged Laurie to stay, and begged Amy to enjoy his society, for it would do her more good than so much solitude. Amy was a model of docility; and, as her aunt was a good deal occupied with Flo, she was left to entertain her friend, and did it with more than her usual success.

At Nice, Laurie had lounged and Amy had scolded; at Vevay, Laurie was never idle, but always walking, riding, boating, or studying, in the most energetic manner, while Amy admired everything he did, and followed his example as far and as fast as she could. He said the change was owing to the climate, and she did not contradict him, being glad of a like excuse for her own recovered health and spirits.

The invigorating air did them both good, and much exercise worked wholesome changes in minds as well as bodies. They seemed to get clearer views of life and duty up there among the everlasting hills; the fresh winds blew away desponding doubts, delusive fancies, and moody mists; the warm spring sunshine brought out all sorts of aspiring ideas, tender hopes, and happy thoughts; the lake seemed to wash away the troubles of the past, and the grand old mountains to look benignly down upon them, saying, "Little children, love one another."

In spite of the new sorrow, it was a very happy time, so happy that Laurie could not bear to disturb it by a word. It took him a little while to recover from his surprise at the rapid cure of his first, and, as he had firmly believed, his last and only love. He consoled himself for the seeming disloyalty by the thought that Jo's sister was almost the same as Jo's self, and the conviction that it would have been 514 impossible to love any other woman but Amy so soon and so well. His first wooing had been of the tempestuous order, and he looked back upon it as if through a long vista of years, with a feeling of compassion blended with regret. He was not ashamed of it, but put it away as one of the bitter-sweet experiences of his life, for which he could be grateful when the pain was over. His second wooing he resolved should be as calm and simple as possible; there was no need of having a scene, hardly any need of telling Amy that he loved her; she knew it without words, and had given him his answer long ago. It all came about so naturally that no one could complain, and he knew that everybody would be pleased, even Jo. But when our first little passion has been crushed, we are apt to be wary and slow in making a second trial; so Laurie let the days pass, enjoying every hour, and leaving to chance the utterance of the word that would put an end to the first and sweetest part of his new romance.

He had rather imagined that the dénouement would take place in the chateau garden by moonlight, and in the most graceful and decorous manner; but it turned out exactly the reverse, for the matter was settled on the lake, at noonday, in a few blunt words. They had been floating about all the morning, from gloomy St. Gingolf to sunny Montreux, with the Alps of Savoy on one side, Mont St. Bernard and the Dent du Midi on the other, pretty Vevay in the valley, and Lausanne upon the hill beyond, a cloudless blue sky overhead, and the bluer lake below, dotted with the picturesque boats that look like white-winged gulls.

They had been talking of Bonnivard, as they glided past Chillon, and of Rousseau, as they looked up at Clarens, where he wrote his "Héloise." Neither had read it, but they knew it was a love-story, and each privately wondered if it was half as interesting as their own. Amy had been dabbling her hand in the water during the little pause that fell between them, and, when she looked up, Laurie was leaning on his oars, with an expression in his eyes that made her say hastily, merely for the sake of saying something,—

"You must be tired; rest a little, and let me row; it will do me good; for, since you came, I have been altogether lazy and luxurious."

"I'm not tired; but you may take an oar, if you like. There's 515 room enough, though I have to sit nearly in the middle, else the boat won't trim," returned Laurie, as if he rather liked the arrangement.

Feeling that she had not mended matters much, Amy took the offered third of a seat, shook her hair over her face, and accepted an oar. She rowed as well as she did many other things; and, though she used both hands, and Laurie but one, the oars kept time, and the boat went smoothly through the water.

"How well we pull together, don't we?" said Amy, who objected to silence just then.

"So well that I wish we might always pull in the same boat. Will you, Amy?" very tenderly.

"Yes, Laurie," very low.

Then they both stopped rowing, and unconsciously added a pretty little tableau of human love and happiness to the dissolving views reflected in the lake.

516

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #little women #alcott

[universalcollisionleaks00]

Universal Collision: Meet the Adventurer Assist Supports!

Name: Akane Maruyama

Not to confused with Aya Maruyama

Class: 5★

Summoner/Duo: No

🎂Birthday🎂: No

Weapon: Katana (EX Weapon: Futsunomitama no Tsurugi)

Current Character Status: Released

Info (From 22/7 Wiki):

Akane is from Hokkaido. She is a maid. It is stated that she is apart of the student council. Akane's dream is for 22/7 to perform at Budokan, as well as eliminate the shortage of exercise.

In episode 8, it is revealed that when Akane was 7 years old, Akane and her family were travelling to the woods, when Akane ventured off by herself and consequentially fell down a mountain, and resulted in her being lost for three days. Although she was found by her mother, her parents found it an opportunity to fight with one another, and eventually the two got a divorce, with Akane going to live with her mother. During the event, the story of Akane's disappearance was broadcasted all over Japan, and despite it being 9 years ago, one of 22/7's staff still remembers her name.

Because of the chain of events all linked to Akane's thoughtless actions, Akane regrets leaving the cabin that day and realizes that it was all due to her capriciousness behaviour. With this noticed, Akane jumps to the conclusion that her feelings will only hurt more people, so she decides to bottle up all her emotions instead.

Relationships:

Miyako Kono (Tension)

As seen in both Akane's and Miyako's PV, Miyako appears to be annoyed and impatient with Akane's stern personality, an example being when Miyako becomes impatient when Akane can't decide on what to eat, or when Akane tells Miyako that all of her previous attempts on the crane machine were 'tests'.

VC:

Test was a failure, I’ll try harder this time! - Attacks of user +45%, but Type Resistance of user -20% (1 Turn), and grant Decisive Strategy on user if a 22/7 character is an assist.

Decisive Strategy: Sacrifice an ally’s defense for attack +33% to user and ally (3 Turns) (Max: +999%)

Skills / Abilities:

Existence: Glimmer - Slash attack on a single enemy x3-5 (L), and Type Resistance of all allies +35% (3 Turns)

Shocking Surprise - Crystal Type Slash attack on a single enemy (XL), restore HP of all allies (L), and Physical Resistance -30% on enemy. (2 Turns)

If there is a 22/7 assist, Crystal Type Slash attack on all enemies x2-5 (XL), restore HP of all allies (XL), Physical Resistance -60% on all enemies (4 Turns)

Debilitation - Speed of all enemies and allies -35%, but attacks of all enemies and allies +35% (3 Turns)

#universal collision #multifandom #Akane Maruyama #22/7 #ongaku no jikan #Kami 12

[iztarshi]

"Since he had capriciously descended into the mortal realm, Xie Lian had not closed his eyes to rest for over a month."

God damn it XL. Sleep sometimes!

#tgcf reread

[robertstaples-blog]

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[homepictures]

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This Kenmore Elite mixer’s innovative architecture — with a unique 360-degree burst bouncer and a pour-in top — will accumulate your walls and countertops spotless. In tests, it aerated egg whites into stiff peaks and analogously alloyed dough. Our experts begin it accessible to add capacity after endlessly the mixer and admired the able bottle bond bowl. 

6 Best for Big-Batches: KitchenAid 6-Qt. Professional Bowl-Lift Angle Mixer

The KitchenAid Basin Lift Professional 600 Series Angle Mixer is one of the better and best able mixers on the market, but its achievement paled a bit abutting to the abate (and added affordable) models in the KitchenAid mixer family. It was still a top aerialist in our test, however, and absolutely account because if you broil in ample quantities.

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[futuresupplement-blog]

Legendz XL is just a run of the mill thing for men to look for a thing that can help them boost their execution in bed. As ought to be self-evident, a consistently expanding number of men are being affected by prostate ailment. So rather than feeling disheartened about the condition, it is better than anything you examine for a fruitful course on how you can oversee it.

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You can buy Legendz XL for $69.99 with 30 cases for each holder. This fuses the transportation and the treatment of the thing. You can in like manner endeavor their 14-day fundamental pack.

How Does Legendz XL Work?

The itemizing of Legendz XL pronounces to be sufficiently awesome to help and enhance sexual execution in men. It on a very basic level works by growing circulation system to achieve harder and longer-persevering erections.

The fixings fuse Nitric Oxide advertisers that can upgrade circulatory system and also unique portions that can enhance allure, stamina, sexual need, and tirelessness. The pills are maintained to work with first use. As shown by the site, results will be evident inside 60 minutes.

Legendz XL is for grown-up folks who are 18 years old or more. You can take this improvement to upgrade sexual prosperity as long as you are sufficiently strong to take an interest in sexual activities.

It is fitting to converse with an authority first in case you have any remedial condition. You moreover can't take it with Tadalafil or conceivably Sildenafil citrate.

Legendz XL Ingredients

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Epimedium remove – Epimedium or horny goat weed can treat hypertension, feeble knees and back, coronary disease, memory adversity, liver ailment, and various others. It helps in extending circulatory system which improves sexual limit.

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[mellowwillowy]

CW: Religious Theme, NSFW

Yan! Priest who is very sweet toward you, guiding you toward the righteous path with his hands literally. Oh to kneel and pray by the altar, his cock twitches as he watches you diligently praise the Lord above.

Oh how blissfully unaware you are that the Lord, the God he serves has always been you.

Yan! Brother who enjoys guiding you down toward the false path as his mouth nibbles your ear, whispering sweet nothings and temptation of the earthly desire you two could have indulged should you not be so religiously rules-abiding.

Oh how blissfully unaware you are that the Devil is not him, it has always been you who tempted him.

Yan! Sponsor who sponsors the church you serve, with some favoritism played backstage. Your room is the second grandest to the main hall and your robe is tailored with the best fabric one could ever have their hands on.

Oh how excited he is with the idea of tearing everything he has sponsored on you just to see you squirm beneath him.

Yan! Aristocrat who is one of the church devotees, a gentleman of morals and integrity. A gentleman who despite knowing how you have pledged to the church, still tries to court you as his spouse.

Oh how the idea of mocking the God by tainting their vessel excites him so much to the point his ungloved hand couldn't stop pumping his cock.

𝐎𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬.

#CatboX #Noel the Unbent #Caelus the Henchman #Erickson the Chosen #XL the Capricious #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Headcanons #Yandere Smut

[idleiji]

I'm so proud of this lol

#dol pc #my art #dol art #dol fanart #kiki the magician #my artwork #XL the capricious

[mellowwillowy]

love me not

Lines by @merakiui

#TWST #Twisted Wonderland #Yandere Riddle Rosehearts #Riddle Rosehearts #Art Shelves #XL the Capricious

[mellowwillowy]

Yandere who treats you as nothing but a beloved pet, from the way you’d be locked inside the cage every time you misbehave to the way you are fucked like a bitch in heat ^^

Oh silly, toilet? Food? Treats? Walkies? Toys? Clothing? All of those can only be earned if you behave well enough to be deserving of rewards!

The collar that is always around your neck to the leash that always tugs you forward or backward is a reminder that you have always been nothing but an insignificant being toward your owner. A pet to be doted or punished.

If you truly insist on wanting to roam outside your cage, how about you give him a blowjob through the creaked cage? Perhaps he would be lenient enough to let you out and give you a much more thorough pastime which is being bent on the bed.

He doesn’t really allow you to do anything humane aside from any traditional pastimes. Internet and meeting other people are strictly forbidden because he can’t stomach the idea of seeing you mingling with others.

And you know better than to cross him. His punishments are never fun, it leaves you bruised and full from the inside. Surely the memory of you limping toward your cage is enough to throw all those ideas out of the window~

#Erickson the Chosen #Caelus the Henchman #XL the Capricious #Again Noel IS a sweetheart #CatboX #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Smut #X GN reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

[mellowwillowy]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐗

Featuring: Yan! King, Yan! Puppeteer, Yan! Knight, Yan! Priest, Yan! Aristocrat CW: Violence (on 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭)

The King has always favored you among the beauties in the palace. His affection soars the moment 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠's Queen was executed for conspiring with the other acolytes to bring him down.

He has always loved you so much that he will do anything just to have you seated next to his throne. He doesn't care about the advisors' bickering. They won't be able to speak anymore after all.

"Off with your head? No no, off with your tongue."

You might think 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐫 is someone heartless and manipulative no? While you are not wrong, you are not right either. Have you ever seen him playing with the puppet, making the puppet you talk and kiss him on his cheek?

He looks so adorable when doing it until you realize the puppet might actually be made of your own skin and hair.

"Ohh, I love you! Muah muah!" "Ohh, I love you too darling!"

As an honored knight, it's only natural for 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 to perform his duty earnestly, to bring down injustice, and to shield people from danger. So why would you even think that he is the person responsible for all the missing people?

All these missing people had done no wrong, and you have always been on good terms with them so you know, you know this person is not supposed to be publicly executed!

"Drop down the guillotine!"

The priest has always been a righteous man so why would you suddenly doubt 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭? He has taught you so much and this is how you are going to pay him? By doubting him?

Bent over the altar, the priest binds your hands behind your back with the rosary as he chants prayer upon you. He is not the gentle loving priest you remember anymore as he forces your head down the holy water.

"Repent, my child."

He has always been a revered man, one deserving of the respect people showered him with. So why would an ungrateful little brat like you deny his love and mocked him instead? What makes you think that it's a great idea to deny what 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭 wants?

His gloved hand meets your face in a strong hit. Your cheek reddens immediately as you struggle to keep your balance. You fall onto the ground with a loud thud and before you can manage to regain your composure, he kicks you right in your stomach.

"You ungrateful pet. You dare to bite the hand that feeds you?"

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

It has been a long time since I've written for the CatboX's Casts so let me introduce them to my new guests who only know LIfE Project casts (lol).

We'll start off with the King's actor, Caelus! He ranks third in the last voting poll as brother Stefan! Erickson as the Puppeteer, he ranks fourth in the last voting poll! He also appears in a story as a crown prince and king. Noel as the Knight and Priest, he ranks first in the last voting poll!!! (MY CHILD!!!) He also appears in the same fic as Erickson.

Last but not least, our beloved XL, Marlon, plays as an aristocrat. She lost to HYC (Yan! Emperor) in the last voting poll...

#Caelus the Henchman #Noel the Unbent #Erickson the Chosen #XL the Capricious #Yandere x Reader #x gn reader #yandere scenario #yandere imagines #CatboX

[mellowwillowy]

Black cat reader begrudgingly letting Golden retriever Yan fuck them when they're in heat.

Like they don't even care if he cums, they just really need to get railed and he's always right there and very willing.

And the happy dog is so excited he doesn't even care that they're only using him to satisfy their heat.

And after they fuck like... well animals, he's so cuddly and affectionate and cat reader wants to scratch and hiss at him but they just had the best fuck of their life and they're exhausted so they begrudgingly let him lick and nuzzle into them.

Sorry I love this concept sm🤭😞

Big! Brained! Nonnie!

Thank you for feeding us this idea!! TwT

Like, imagine you being so pliant, so needy and so explosive. He has been ticking you off and you have given him enough scratch yet he still won't fuck off!

So? Something mutual came into mind. Why not put that cock to good use? And you did, riding on his cock like there was no tomorrow, filling the whole room with the smell of sex and your pheromones.

It was driving him nuts obviously but he never ran out of cum to fill you deep inside. Soon the table turned and you were beneath him, his chest pressed against your back while he was balls deep inside you.

He took this chance to mark you with his canines and took a deeper sniff of your pheromones, giving him the willpower and endurance to fuck yet another round into you <3

And by any chance you two were miraculously done, he would be very very very sweet in the aftercare. He would help you bathe whether you were awake or not. Of course you wouldn't let him do without putting up a fight but damn do these muscles sore!

Just a scratch and you'd let him do whatever he wanted. What a pliant cat you are!

#Yandere x Reader #X GN Reader #XL the Capricious #CatboX #Yandere Smut #Theatric Guest

[mellowwillowy]

Dear.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Ortho Shroud #XL the Capricious #TWST yuu #TWST Yume #mmh angst in and out #Art Shelves

[mellowwillowy]

Hi I'm not sure if you do sub yan..but here's my req sub male yan with pregnancy/lactation kink..fem dom

Almost Anything is on the table, I was using AMAB intersex reader for this but decided to set it as GN in the end. Yan! Sub Golden Retriever energy x GN Black Cat! Reader energy

“Please…” the man beneath you whined as he humped against your thigh, mouth drooling for a taste of your breast, “I really need them…”

You ruffled his messy red hair playfully, dark shades of purple lipstick marks all over his fucked up face and body. “Do you?”

His cock twitched at your remarks, his head nodded in eagerness as he brought your hand to his face, tongue grazing your manicured fingernails, “Need em’ real bad to the point I’ll just cum from latching them…”

You hummed at him, eyes trained on his naked body that was bruised in purple shades of your lipstick and blood clots.

“Do you?”

“Yes, my Master!” He looked up to you unblinking.

Your hand went to unzip the turtleneck shirt you were wearing, allowing his eyes to feast on your bare body. Just before he could dive in to have a mouthful of your breast, your hand yanked his head backward by his messy red hair, "Where's your manner?"

Lucius chewed on his lower lip before he begged again, this time tears pooling in his amethyst eyes, "My Master, please..." He blinked away his tears, "Let this lowly mutt indulge himself for a moment and he shall return the gratitude thrice fold."

Your ribboned tail swished, eyebrows raised as you waited for him to say more. And he did. He squirmed beneath you, his knees sore from the kneeling position that he had been set for what seemed to be hours, mouth dry from pleas before he delivered an ultimatum,

"I will let my Master massacre the mutts I lead."

At that your lip curled into a smirk, your hand let go of his head and he took his chance to dive in, tongue feeling your hardened nipple while the other was twisted and pinched by his fingers.

You sighed lovingly as your heels dug into his thigh and cock, pressing it harder and deeper as you felt his breath grow raggier and unsteady with each second passing.

He'd love to taste the milk out of your breast, to feel how your breasts swelled inside it and enlarge them from their original sizes. Alas, it would be impossible unless he could put your guard down and sneak magic into your autonomy.

But as for now, the mutt was completely content with salivating over his executioner's breasts, dirtying their heel's sole with his cum. Oh he would enjoy licking them clean.

#Yandere Smut #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Imagines #CatboX #XL the Capricious #Theatric Guest