Hello! This is a fun little concept I thought of in order to procrastinate on studying for my exams. Basically just a Modern AU/retelling of P&P with maybe a few twists and psychic powers added in. The system for the psychic stuff mainly comes from The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater, but there might be a few changes for plot purposes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Austen's stuff or Stiefvater's psychic systems. If I did I probably wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

Prologue: Only Time will Tell

(Lizzie)

The future is a funny thing. Everyone spends so much time trying to prepare for it, control it, understand it, predict it. But the only thing that truly knows the future is the future itself. It's the runner at the head of the race, always two steps ahead.

Lizzie Bennet likes to think that she's one of the few people that can interpret the vague and elusive nature of time. She knows that time is a circle, not a line, spinning around and around until it settles on a narrative it likes, a narrative that the people within it spiral into. She understands that the future and past are fragile and tangible things, breaking and bending to the whims of those around them. She remembers that the future is a promise, not a guarantee. Promises can be broken.

And yet, with all her otherworldly knowledge, idiots like the one standing in front of her still feel the need to doubt her.

"No offense, but psychic powers are usually… a farce."

No offense, but you look like you belong in a shitty version of 'The Wolf of Wall Street'.

The teenage girl standing next to him shoots him a wary look, momentarily pulled away from the homemade essences she had been drawn to originally. Lizzie bites her tongue and gives the stranger a cursory once over. He's wearing slacks and an Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing strong, tan forearms. She doesn't need to be a psychic to guess that he's an asshole.

He's also really hot.

(She's really unimpressed with the lack of correlation between physical attractiveness and positive personality traits. The world isn't a fair place.)

"You realize that you basically just said 'no offense, but I think you're scamming people out of their money'? How exactly am I supposed to not be offended by that?"

The girl sighs in exasperation, "Can't we do one thing without you pissing off a random stranger?"

Lizzie feels an odd surge of affection for the girl that she hadn't previously expected. Then again, she had sensed a positive aura when the two walked in, she just hadn't been sure which one of them was emitting it. Now she's definitely sure that it isn't coming from him.

"Stay out of this Georgy," the guy snaps before turning back on Lizzie. "Look, I'm trying to be polite. I just don't believe in what you do."

"A murderer in a nice suit is still a murderer."

"That's a terrible analogy."

Lizzie scoffs, "Whatever, the point stands. Just 'cause you dress your bigotry in a bow doesn't make it okay."

"It's hardly bigotry when most psychics actually scam people out of their money. That's called statistics."

"So you're telling me that statistics give you the right to come into my store and insult my career choice?"

"First off, career is a bit of a strong word-"

"Do you get off on being condescending?"

"Secondly, statistics give me a right to be wary of people trying to take advantage of me."

"I'm pretty sure profiling works off of the same logic."

"You're kidding," he says blankly, "the difference is people can't choose their skin colour. You can choose your job."

"I didn't choose to be a psychic."

"Oh, so we're going off of the assumption that you actually have spooky psychic powers? Hang on, let me recalculate my line of argumentation."

"Fuck you," Lizzie says with a saccharine smile. Then she swivels to face the girl, "Can I help you?"

Her face lightens up a little in response, but before she can respond, the guy butts in again, "I get it. Now that you've realized you're not going to get any money out of me, you're turning to my kid sister. Real ethical."

She's going to wring him with her bare hands.

(Un)fortunately, his sister decides to step in before Lizzie murders him. "Please Will, I'm not a kid," she says breezily, "could you try not being a dick for once in your life?"

He scowls, "Don't swear."

"It's not swearing if I'm referring to you by your middle name," she flashes him a wicked smile and turns to Lizzie, "I'm actually interested in a tarot reading."

"Sure-"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"You're no fun," she pouts, "I'll even pay for it myself."

He laughs, "It's not paying for yourself if you get your allowance from me. Besides, it's not about that. It's about the principle."

"The principle being sticking to your guns when you're being an ignorant dipshit?" Lizzie raises an eyebrow. "You're a stellar role model."

"No," he rolls his eyes and speaks slowly, like she's a child, "the principle is that I don't give money to scammers with shit customer service."

Lizzie feels her temper rising, but purses her lips and makes sure her voice is level in order to keep her cool, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"You're kicking me out," it's a question, but it comes out as a statement.

Instead of answering, she turns to the girl (Georgy?) and smiles warmly, "I can do a tarot reading now or some other time as long as he's out of my general vicinity."

At that, the guy laughs sardonically and brushes past her to stalk towards the door. But when his arm skims hers, something weird happens. A sensation spreads through her entire body, like she's suddenly been set on fire. Her mind flashes, an image of hands on skin, tugging at her waist, teeth nipping at her lips, dragging a heady moan out of her mouth. The scene changes to Georgy laughing loudly as she jumps into a pool, her cannonball formation spraying Lizzie with water before Georgy reaches up to pull her in too.

But she doesn't only see her two customers. She feels Jane across town, planning her upcoming charity event. Her eyes flash to her mother's house, where the woman stands in the center of the room, performing a ritual for onlookers all around. Then she catches a glimpse of the people walking on the sidewalk in front of her shop, the acute feeling of… irritation taking over her body as she looks from them to her sister back in the shop, still talking to that woman who seems intent on exploiting her-

Lizzie snaps out of it, her eyes flying open to the girl standing in front of her.

What the fuck just happened?

She blinks slowly and looks around the room before looking back to Georgy, trying to gauge if she's disoriented in any way by what just happened. The girl looks fine though, a little put off by the immature behaviour of her brother, but otherwise completely tethered to reality.

Lizzie shouldn't have expected anything different. Others never see.

Georgy is grimacing when she looks over at her, "I'm sorry about him, he's just…" she trails off and looks over to where he's waiting for her by the door, "the worst."

That brings Lizzie back to the present and she laughs lightly, "That's an understatement." If anything, the pained look on Georgy's face grows stronger at the comment, like she wants the ground to swallow her whole.

Lizzie can sympathize. She's had quite a few I-wish-the-ground-would-swallow-me moments.

"He's actually not as bad as he seems," she starts, but quickly realizes by the look on Lizzie's face that there's really no use in defending him. "Anyway, I'll stop by sometime for a tarot reading. Without him."

Lizzie nods approvingly before relenting a little, "Don't worry about it. I'm used to skeptics."

She thinks of her mother, faux psychic extraordinaire.

She almost doesn't blame him for his doubts. Almost.

She huffs out another sigh, "Sure, but he has this nasty habit of thinking that the world actually cares about his shitty opinions," Lizzie laughs out loud at that, surprising even herself. Georgy gives her an award winning smile before turning towards the door. Lizzie takes the hint and heads back to the counter, arranging a set of lighters with cheesy inspirational quotes twisted around to make puns. She tries really hard to distract herself and not look back at the guy or think about the guy or analyse what the guy's touch did to her.

She just doesn't understand how someone like him could bring on such a strong connection to the spiritual world.

She's just finished adjusting a lighter that says 'you're a-MAZE-ing' with a little design of a maze in the background when she hears it.

"You're not coming back to this crap shack."

She looks over to the door where Georgy catches her eye and gives a little wave before saying, "Like you could stop me."

Lizzie simultaneously feels the need to either laugh out loud or punch something as hard as she possibly can.

That's it for now! The following chapters may be a little longer, but generally this is gonna be a pretty casual story. I'll try to post as often as I can but I'm working on this alongside a bigger idea of mine that you can check out on my page called Sympathy for the Devil which is a Scorose work.

This quote: "[...] the future is a promise, not a guarantee. Promises can be broken" is from The Raven Cycle by Stiefvater.

Also, just to be clear I don't recommend going to psychics. I mean, go if you want, but I agree (although to less of a degree) with Darcy in this case.