#HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN PLAYED BY DAPHNE ALREADY???

[indynerdgirl]

Dear Katharine McGee,

WHAT WAS THAT ENDING IN RIVALS?????? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME??? BECAUSE THAT SHIT IS SO NOT COOL. I NEED BOOK FOUR RIGHT NOW.

#american royals #american royals: rivals #katharine mcgee #books #reading #SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ENDING??? #I NEED BOOK FOUR RIGHT THE FUCK NOW #ALSO FUCK DAPHNE #I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU DAPHNE #I THOUGHT YOU COULD CHANGE #BUT A LEOPARD NEVER CHANGES THEIR SPOTS #ALSO JEFFERSON NEEDS TO GET HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS ASS #AND GROW A FUCKING SPINE #HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN PLAYED BY DAPHNE ALREADY???

[writers-hes]

since when? (a. bridgerton x reader)

You grew up with the Bridgertons and for the longest time, Anthony thought of you as a friend…since when did he look at you differently? (friends to lovers, slow burn, the Bridgertons being the best wing men, you look at him but he’s already looking at you….)  helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

It was no secret among the Ton that your family was a dear friend to the Bridgertons. Your mother and Violet Bridgerton have been friends since they were children. They shared paper crowns, secrets, joys, and sorrows. They got married in the same year and soon enough, your mother was helping Violet as she birthed Anthony and then Benedict. Soon, it was Violet who helped your mother as she birthed her only child, you.

The Bridgerton household has always been big and it provided your parents some comfort to know that you won’t have to grow up alone. You’d always be surrounded by the Bridgertons and you were. Many a time, the older brothers would sneak into your gardens to tease you while you played with your dolls, a picnic blanket laid on the grass as you waited for Violet to bring Daphne.

“You know, there are other games than dolls,” Colin would tease, his nose scrunching. “Anthony loves to play pall mall. Maybe you’d beat him,”

“Hey! No one can beat me,” Anthony would scold, taking a doll from your hand.

“Anthony! Give me back my doll!” you’d call and he’d run away from you, cackling evilly while his younger brothers inspected your toys curiously. When you’d grow tired, you’d sit on the porch of your house and cry until Anthony came over to you with an apologetic look on his face.

“You took my doll, Anthony! You can’t make girls cry! You can’t make your friend cry too!” you’d sob but Anthony would utter a string of apologies that you’d accept. “I’m your friend, right?”

“Of course. I’m sorry for making you cry,” he’d say. Later in the day, he’d force Benedict to give one of the servants a box of cookies for you and in the morning, he’d sneak off again to see you happily munching on them. He’d steal a piece or two of course, but as a punishment, you’d force him to stay and have a tea party with you.

When you grew older, Anthony was still playful. When he’d bring his friends over while you were having tea with Daphne, he’d pull a face and would ask “What are you doing here again? Do you not have a home?”

“I could say the same,” you shrugged. You were teenagers now and the blows just got better. “With the amount of time you spend in our house, one would think that your family hates you. Guess, I’m right,” you shrugged, the same amount of sarcasm.

“Don’t mind him,” Daphne would say, rolling her eyes. “He’s sulky whenever you’re not around,”

“He’s probably annoyed because he’a got no one to annoy, Daph,” you replied, sipping on tea. She’d smile at you and you’d smile back at the girl whom you’ve always loved as a little sister. “It’s been a while since all of us got together but I understand, of course. The boys have their education to attend to and us…well, we have pianoforte and needlework,”

“They will be coming back soon for a break,” Daphne says. “Perhaps we can all have a picnic?”

And so you all attended a picnic together. It was a summer’s day, families were setting up their own tents in the park for a lovely afternoon. It was unusual to see your family’s tent and the Bridgertons’ right beside each other.

“What is it you’re reading?” Benedict asked, when he saw you. He just got back from schooling two days ago and was back to his old antics.

“Nothing worth mentioning since you can’t read,” you replied with a smile hiding behind the book. “Gregory’s still so young but I bet he can read way better,”

“Hey!” he scolds. “If you must know, I was the best reader in my class as a young boy,”

You laughed. “How have you been, Ben?” You’ve always been softer on Ben and Colin. They’d bother you like brothers did but they never made you cry as a child.

“Same old,” he shrugs, sitting next to you. “I took art history and art as a course for my studies this year,”

“And?”

“I plan on pursuing it,” Ben says. You smiled proudly at him.

“That’s great, Benedict. My husband and I would like to commission you for a painting in the future,” you said. “When you’re famous, please give me a friendly rate!”

“You don’t even have a husband yet,” Benedict shrugged. “Besides, maybe it’ll be your husband who’s going to finance my artistic pursuits,” he hinted and you tilted your head, confused.

“I don’t have a husband…” you trailed off, making Benedict laugh as he saw the gears in your head turning.

“I jest!” he says, making you laugh.

“You are insufferable, Benedict Bridgerton!”

“You are as clueless as I am insufferable,”

-

It didn’t take long enough for you to make your debut and enter society. It was a big commotion inside your house but a quiet one amongst the Ton. It unnerved you because you were still young. How could your mother not see that you didn’t want to marry yet? She told you that you’d been putting it off for years; now that you were not a teenager. Two and twenty…a little too late to debut but who cared? You were the most beautiful debutante the Ton has ever seen…or at least someone thought so.

“Stop your staring, brother or flies will get inside your mouth,” Colin whispered, leaning ever so slightly to Anthony.

“I am not staring! I’m only surprised,” Anthony replied.

“Well, no one should be surprised,” Benedict added. “She’s of age and she needs to find a husband. Could you imagine? If she marries this year, we could have a little baby to bother next year. Oh, I so want to become an uncle!”

You were looking around nervously. You’ve always hated big gatherings and Lady Danbury’s ball was enormous. At the sight of your three friends, you visibly relaxed, excusing yourself from the gentlemen who approached you (quite rudely) to make a beeline towards them.

“Oh, God. I’m so glad you’re here!” you breathed.

“Lady Danbury would have our eyes for breakfast if we do not attend,” Colin replied. “You look beautiful!”

“Thank you, Colin,” you said, scrunching your nose. You weren’t unfamiliar with Colin’s compliments now and then. He never found it troublesome to say the words one needed to hear to feel comfortable, if not good.

“I was just talking about how much I want to become an uncle,” Benedict said. “Anthony doesn’t want to marry, Daphne’s too young…”

“And you’ve taken me as an unwilling volunteer of your aspirations,” you finished for him, making him chuckle.

“Well, that might be the case. Have you ever had champagne? Libations are usually free-flowing in events like these,” Benedict winked. “In fact, let’s go get champagne after we dance. Come,” he says, extending his hand toward you. You smiled brightly and accepted with your gloved hand, allowing Benedict to lead you to the dancefloor.

“Tsk tsk,” Colin chides Anthony who has not said a word since your arrival. “She’s beautiful, is she not?”

“I suppose,” he mutters before taking an exit.

-

Upon hearing the news that you have debuted, the girls rushed to your house to hear about last night.

“Did you meet anyone?” Daphne asked eagerly.

“No one,” you replied, seeing as Daphne deflated, you tried to brighten her spirits up. “But…it’s only the first ball. There are many other balls to attend to and bachelors to meet,”

“Are Lady Danbury’s ball as great as everyone makes it out to be?” Francesca asked. “Where are your callers?”

“It is,” you nodded. “I have not danced with anyone last night but Benedict and Colin,” you shared.

Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca were all excited for you. Daphne, mostly, who has always looked up to you as her older sister. Now that you’ve made your debut to society, it could be real. You could finally be her sister.

“And Anthony?” she asked.

“He was brooding the whole night,” you chuckled. “As he always does,”

“I hope whoever you marry is at least smart,” Eloise commented from her chair. “Someone smart enough to hold a conversation…definitely not one of my brothers,”

“Eloise!” you scolded playfully.

“What? It is true,” she shrugged, a glint in her eye.

In a few hours, Anthony comes to fetch his sister. You had been answering the younger girls’ questions patiently, keeping them entertained as you showed them your dresses for the season. Eloise was in the drawing room, drowning herself in her writing.

“Where’s Daphne and Francesca?” Anthony asked.

“Hello to you too, brother,” Eloise greeted. “They’re in Y/N’s bedchamber. She’s showing them some dresses and other things for the season,”

Anthony hummed and made a beeline for your room. It was wide open, your giggles heard in the corridor. Eloise was hot on his tails, trying to see the commotion for herself.

“I hope you’re not giving my sisters any ideas,” he says, leaning on your doorframe. In all of the years he’s known you, he’s never seen your bedchamber. His eyes were darting around quickly, taking note of your books, your table, and paraphernalia that embodied who you were.

“Anthony!” you greet. “Ow!”

He looks at you in alarm, laughing when Francesca apologizes for stepping on your shoes as you taught her how to dance.

“What are you doing, Francesca?” he asked, back straightening to walk inside but he stopped himself, afraid to cross any boundaries. It was Eloise who literally had to shove him slightly.

“It’s okay, Anthony,” you smiled. “I was teaching your sisters how to dance. I’m a great dancer, you know? I can teach you…so you won’t have to step on a poor girl’s foot while you dance,” you teased.

Three girls waited in anticipation but Anthony said nothing.

“No reply?” you asked. “It must be my lucky day, girls.”

“Not that it’s any of my concern but I’m afraid I’m a far better dancer than you’ll ever be. Perhaps, it is I who should teach you? Benedict complained all night because of your dancing,”

“He did not!”

“He did,” he teased, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Come along, sisters. Mother wants us all for dinner,”

That night, when the three sisters were huddled in the library quietly, they all agreed how wonderful it would be to have you as a part of the family. Unbeknownst to them, their two older brothers also agree.

-

Anthony peeked outside the window, noticing the line of carriages on the street.

“What’s the commotion outside?” he asked, no one in particular.

“Didn’t you know? Our Y/N was the talk of the ball last night,” Benedict replied. “Such a shame you weren’t there, Anthony. She was seen making an acquaintance with a businessman. He asked if he could call on her today and her mother said yes. Her dance card was filled to the brim, I almost wasn’t able to dance with her,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he watched Anthony. He wasn’t lying, you told him all about it and showed him your dance card. You complained at how tired you were while you both danced. “Maybe we’ll have a nephew or a niece soon, hmm?”

“Can you go accompany me later, Anthony? I want to go to her and see all of these gifts!” Daphne asked. “Do you think someone gifted her a dog?”

“Ask Benedict or Colin to come with you,” he replied sourly.

“I can’t…I have a prior commitment,” Benedict lied. “with Colin,”

“Ah, yes,” Colin added. “I am ready to go to the farm, brother,”

“Come on, Anthony. You could just take me there and leave me. You can come back in a couple of hours!” Daphne begged.

Anthont relented before walking off. He didn’t see how his younger siblings smirked at each other.

Afternoon came and you were tired. You were sitting lazily on the loveseat amongst gift boxes you have yet to open. Luckily, no one gifted you with a dog.

“Y/N!” Daphne called and you smiled, fixing your posture slightly to greet her. “Your gifts! They’re so many!”

“Hello, Daphne,” you greeted. “Anthony, you’re here,”

“Daphne dragged me,” he said, taking a piece of chocolate from the box given to you by some gentleman before plopping down in front of you. “Don’t mind me.”

You looked at Daphne who shrugged.

“Do you want to open them with me?” you asked her, sitting up. “I need your help, you know and you can take whatever you might like,”

“Really?” she asked eagerly. “You’re certain? These might cost a fortune and you’re giving it away?”

“Yes,” you nod. “You can take some for Francesca, Eloise, and Hyacinth too. Besides, you’ll be helping me out. None of these would fit in my room,”

Daphne nods excitedly and picks a box from a shop she knew. She gasped as she takes out a music box with a man and a woman dancing in the middle. She turns the crank and hears a sweet melody.

“Look! The female dancer looks like you,” she says. She digs the box for anything and reads out a card. “Thank you for keeping me company and for making me feel welcomed. Sincerely, A.S..?”

“Alfred,” you told her. Anthony was secretly listening to your conversation. You were on a first name basis now? It annoyed him, he didn’t know why. “We danced last night,”

“What does he look like? Is he handsome?”

“He is!” you giggled, putting away the box that you just opened. “He looks quite intimidating and has a brusque way of speaking but he’s gentle.”

“What are the color of his eyes?” she asked.

“Gray…with hazel and blue,” you replied. “It looks like a dark blue from afar but when you’re closer, you’ll see specks of other colors too,”

“I wish to meet him,”

“Daphne!” Anthony scolded after listening.

“Sorry,” she apologized, a frown on her face.

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You can meet him some other time.”

The Ton fully believed that you were courting. Sightings of you and Alfred around London had been common. You’d have your hands wrapped around his arm while your maid trailed behind. People were so sure that you were courting. How could they not? He was always calling on you or has been seen dancing with you multiple times. It didn’t help that Alfred only danced with you during balls. It didn’t help at all.

“Y/N has been spending so much time with that Alfred lately,” Colin remarked. “They’re always huddled by the dance floor, laughing among themselves. If they weren’t dancing, you’d be certain that they’d be together,”

Colin looked at Benedict discreetly. Daphne and her sisters watched Anthony.

“Maybe there will be a nephew or a niece after all,” Anthony replied with a strained voice. His throat ached as he suppressed an emotion that bubbled in his chest.

The Bridgertons could not be any more wrong. On your first meeting with Alfred, he admitted that he had a girl he loved back home. He hasn’t told her yet, still building his business to fully support her. He only attended this social season to expand his business and had made your acquaintance because your father invested a sum in his business. You both agreed to keep a ruse that you were courting. You weren’t looking to marry and he didn’t want any mamas vulturing him.

He’d been successful in gathering investors. He told you all about his travels and about the woman he left home. He said that they’d visit you sometime soon. Meanwhile, you showed him to London’s high society. You told your father to invite him to his club. He liked dancing and had thought of you as a suitable dance partner. Your parents never minded. The more you spent time with Alfred, the more suitors you had. You’d never know exactly why but Alfred has been telling everyone that you were warm, comforting, and kind.

One afternoon, you were seen with Alfred again, not knowing that the Bridgertons were there in the park too. It was nothing formal. Alfred showed up at your door, asking if you had any plans this afternoon. You said no and asked if you’d like to accompany him to the park. He’ll be leaving in a few days and wanted to spend more time with you before he left.

Anthont watched from the tent as you passed by. You were so consumed with some joke that you didn’t notice the tent.

“Is that Y/N and Sir Alfred?” Daphne asked. “He’s as handsome as she described him! Franscesca, look! I’m going to say hello,” she declared before gathering herself. Anthony ran after his sister who was more than excited to be introduced to the man who had occupied your time. Maybe it was Daphne but maybe it was because he needed to know but either way, he followed.

“Y/N!” Daphne called and you stopped, smiling widely as Daphne neared. You also threw a quick smile towards Anthony.

“Hello, Daphne,” you greeted. “I didn’t know you were here. Had I known, I would have dropped by,”

“It’s alright. I just wanted to say hello to you and…”

Your eyebrows rose and you chuckled.

“Alfred,” your friend introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Bridgerton. Y/N has talked so greatly about you. Good afternoon, Viscount Bridgerton,” he greeted and Anthony returned the greeting.

“Alfie—Alfred, you’ve yet to meet the others,” you smiled up at him. Anthony’s heart clenched. Alfie?

“Hey! I told you to stop calling me that,” he chastised playfully. “It ruins my reputation,”

“I apologize, sir Alfie,” you teased. “Anyhow, this is Daphne and Anthony. They’ve been my friends since we were children. They’re like my siblings,”

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up. Maybe to all of them…but that label was disliked by someone. He was looking at him right now.

“Would it be a bother if I introduced Alfred to the rest of the family?” you asked. Daphne shook her head, taking your hand immediately to bring you to their tent, Alfred and Anthony in tow.

“Y/N’s here!” Daphne announced. “She brought Sir Alfred with her,”

“Sorry for the intrusion, everyone,” you apologized. Anthony was about to say that it wasn’t a bother at all. He saw how his siblings’ faces lit up when they saw you. “Everyone, meet sir Alfred. Alfred, meet everyone,”

Everyone introduced themselves. Alfred was charming and perfect for you. Anthony could see that and it made him uncomfortable. He’d been denying the fact for so long and he will continue to do so.

“Alfred is very favorable, is he not?” Violet commented when you both left. You had to go attend an opera show with Alfred for the evening. “Such a handsome man who seems to care deeply for our Y/N. Do you think they’ll be engaged soon?”

“I believe someone else is perfect for our Y/N,” Benedict spoke. “Alfred may be as you described him, mother but I see nothing but friendship between the two of them. Trust me,”

-

The simple bracelet dangling on your arm made Anthony question Benedict. You told Daphne that you weren’t feeling well today because Alfred left last night. As a parting gift, he gave you a bracelet with a simple pendant. Daphne recalled how puffy your eyes were when she visited. It was obvious that you both held each other dearly. You were just too sad to see him go.

Anthony took it upon himself to light your spirits up again. After a morning of appeasing your callers, Anthony put it upon himself to sit by the garden seen right outside of your drawing room. You knew he was there, he always liked to sit by the swings. You walked towards him and he looked up.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I’ve noticed how sad you’ve been since your…Sir Alfred left London,” he said. “So, I thought…why must I let you suffer any longer? Let’s have tea in that place you like. I’ll pay for everything,”

“What happened to Anthony Bridgerton?” you asked and he chuckled.

“We’ve been friends way before we learned how to walk. Besides, banter gets boring, don’t you agree?” he asked, extending his arm for you to take. “You know what? I’ll even listen to you. Just for a day,”

“You will?” you asked, attaching your hand on his arm. “Wait—my maid—“

“It’s okay. Everything has been taken care of,” he said. “Let’s go,”

The Bridgerton carriage waited for you both and he let you in. The ride to the town square was quiet. If anyone understood your plight, it was Anthony. Besides, who would he tell? The gossip papers? Certainly not.

Sitting across from him in a secluded table in the tea shop with finger food and tea before you, you decided to speak.

“Alfred and I weren’t courting,” you confessed, sipping your tea. Anthony feels the constriction in his chest loosen. As if he hadn’t been breathing properly before your confession.

“Pardon?” he asked, setting down the cucumber sandwich that he was eating. “You’re not courting? Then…what about your dances? Everyone was waiting for the two of you to wed. You do know that you aren’t fooling me, right?”

You chuckled.

“He has a sweetheart back home,” you said and Anthony’s hands clenched. How could someone like Alfred fool you? “It’s not like that…before you declare war. Listen to me, alright?”

“Alright,”

“He and I thought of a ruse that we’re courting. I don’t want to be married yet, Anthony. You know more than anyone that I’m in no rush. He didn’t want to be surrounded by debutantes and mothers who asked him for a dance. He was only here to expand his business by looking for more investors,” you said coolly. You looked at Anthony’s furrowed brows. “I know I should have told you but we both agreed to keep it between us. The fewer people involved, the more effective. He and I are friends and nothing but,”

“What about the music box and your bracelet?” he asked. He wanted to take the words back if he could. It showed that he paid attention and it bothered him.

“Oh…” you stuttered, looking away. “The music box was a gift from him. A gift for agreeing with everything. The bracelet…well, it’s the same. It’s a parting gift for our friendship. We both have the same bracelet with the same gem. I was sad to see him leave but more than anything, I’m looking forward to his next return with the woman he loves. Did you know he’s going to confess his feelings? If everything goes well, he'll ask her hand for marriage.” you said and Anthony knew that it was the truth. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about Alfred’s possible marriage.

“It’s what I want for myself,” you spoke. “I want to marry under those circumstances and not because of practicality or…whatever it is. I am expected to marry someone with a rank…someone from a good family. I am an only child but I do not want to be  restricted by my responsibilities,”

“I see,” was his pensive reply. “We haven’t danced yet. Did you know that?”

“I am well aware,” you acknowledged. “The last ball will be soon. Would you care for a dance, Viscount Bridgerton?”

“I would,”

-

Anthony went home that day humming.

Violet was alarmed…he has never seen Anthony so carefree since Edmund’s tragic death. His brothers were amused and his sisters were confused. They were all so used to a brooding Anthony.

“Anthony, is everything alright?” Violet Bridgerton asked. Anthony halts his step, sitting on his own chair.

“Of course,” he says. “It’s a wonderful day, is it not?”

“I suppose so,” his mother replies. “Would you like some tea before dinner? I can make you a cup,”

“It’s quite alright, mother. Y/N and I just had tea,” he shrugged. Daphne’s piano stopped playing and Anthony could feel eyes on him.

“You and who?” Benedict asked.

“Y/N and I,” Anthony replied. “Why are you all looking at me? Is something the matter?”

“No but usually you’d ask me to come—“ Daphne stops as her mother looks at her pointedly. Anthony was in good spirits and it is therefore favorable for everyone if his good mood persists.

“Of course, dear sister but remember, she and I are good friends. I just decided to ask her to spend the afternoon with after Sir Alfred’s departure,” Anthony replied. They didn’t know what he knew.

“Such a shame,” Eloise added. “I thought for sure they’ll be married by the end of the season,”

“What?” Anthony asked, an edge in his voice. Violet’s eyes rolled, annoyed that Eloise might have ruined Anthony’s mood. “Why must she marry him? There are other bachelors in London who suit her better,” he says. “Besides, they are friends,”

“What about the bracelet he gave her? Did you know he has the same one?” Daphne asked.

“Would you rather her marry somebody from outside London and see her rarely or marry someone close and see her often?” Anthony asked. Everyone stayed silent, it seemed as though the Viscount himself hadn't realized his feelings. “Exactly. Anyhow, thank you for your interrogation. I will be in my study to oversee some matters,”

He says, kissing his mother’s head before walking off.

“If that is what Y/N can do to Anthony, I would really want her to be married to him,” Francesca says, earning a few nods from her siblings.

-

The last ball of the season came and Anthony was dressed in his best clothes. He went to his barber before going to the tailor to have his clothes altered perfectly. He was in the ballroom, awaiting your arrival. Before leaving that afternoon, you both agreed to look your best.

Your mother soon comes with you behind her. You were donned in Anthony’s favorite color, butterflies and flowers embroidered in the dress. Jewels were in place, your hair falling in all the right places. Anthony thought that you looked ethereal.

He waited until you saw him, eyes brightening. He smiled, walking towards you. He forgot his brothers who stood behind him. He’d love nothing more than to have your first and last dances.

“Anthony,” you greeted. He takes your hand and kisses your gloved hands.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Does that mean I’m not beautiful on a regular day?” you teased. “You look just as handsome, Anthony,”

“Shall we dance?” he asked and you nodded, allowing him to escort you to the dance floor. Anthony looks into your eyes as lilting music starts. Soft murmurs in the crowd fade away. It’s the first time he’s seen you so, so close. There was a faint smile playing on your lips and he found himself smiling too. “Do you remember, when we were younger, our dance teachers would pair us together?”

“And I remember being the better dancer,” you boasted. “Is this how you teach?”

“No,” he replied, finding his hand on your hip, the feeling of the fabric soft against his skin. “I concede. You are the superior dancer,”

You beamed. Anthony thought that he’d let himself lose in your arguments to see you smile like that again.

“Maybe I should teach you…so you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself in front of other debutantes,” you offered.

“Why should I learn how to dance with others when I’m perfectly fine with my dance partner?” Anthony asked. “It’s just…one, two, step. Remember?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I remember Miss Rutherford scolding you for stepping on my toes,”

Anthony laughed. “You will never let that down, will you?”

“Of course not. Banter may get boring but I find it most pleasurable to see you agitated,” you replied. “Do I…agitate you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. Anthony could feel your breath on his face.

“You do,” he replied. “Is that good?”

“Very,”

-

“How was your dance?” Benedict asked. “Did you all know that he and Y/N danced last night? Laughing among themselves?”

“You did?” Francesca asked, excited.

“He left us when he saw her. I think Anthony forgot that he was supposed to be with his brothers,” Colin teased.

“I don’t see the matter,” Anthony replied, swallowing his breakfast. “You have both danced with Y/N. I did too. We are friends,”

“Of course,” Colin replied. “Only…you had your eyes glued on her last night. You shared your last dance together. Mother had to separate the two of you beside the refreshments table because you were too busy giggling among yourselves,”

“I for one would love it if Y/N became a part of our family,” Eloise remarked.

“Isn’t she already a part of it? We all grew up together. Why is everyone acting absurd?” Anthony asked but he knew. He couldn’t stop thinking about you these days. Last night, he tossed and turned in his bed because he couldn’t stop his heart fluttering from the recent events. He remembered the relief he felt when you told him about your ruse with Alfred. He remembered how much he enjoyed his banter with you over the years…most especially recently. He has always seen you as a friend. Since when has he looked at you in a different light? His mouth ran dry, gulping the cold water to calm his nerves. Was this true?

“I would like to visit Y/N,” Daphne announced and Anthony sputtered. He coughs to clear his throat. “Would you accompany me, Anthony?”

“I could not,” he lied. How would he react if he saw you unbothered? How would he react if he saw you again? “I have matters to attend to. Ask Benedict or Colin to take you instead,”

-

Anthony sat in his office doing nothing but nursing the tumultuous beating of his heart. Since when did I think of her like this? Why is she so beautiful? Would she still accept me despite our shared banter?

Later in the afternoon, Anthony found himself pacing in their garden. He was so tempted to go over to your garden but he knew that Daphne would be there with you. He looked at the gate that separated you to him. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to have that demolished.

“You’re looking too pensive for my liking,” Violet Bridgerton says, looking at her first born with concern. “I hope you know that your siblings only like to tease,”

“I know but…what if they were right?” Anthony revealed. Violet’s eyebrows shot up. Sure, she noticed how different Anthony seemed to be these days but she never could have expected it to come from him so easily.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell her?”

“She told me she has no wish to get married,” he says. He then told his mother about the ruse that you had with Alfred. How you both fooled everyone in London.

“Well, Benedict’s right all along,” Violet says. “But you’re both still so young, Anthony. You have so much time and I want you to spend this time on what makes you happy.”

“What if I fail?” he asked with a weak voice. Violet was reminded of Anthony as a child, when he used to voice his insecurities. There was something so beautiful about a child seeking his mother.

“At least you tried,” she said. “It would hurt more if you’re left all your life wondering what could have happened if you tried,”

-

The weeks that transpired after the social season could be described as irregular. You were thinking of better words to say but it was hard. Anthony was kinder and would purposely seek out your company on slower days. Over the course of a few weeks, Anthony had accompanied you to the theater. He spent time with you at the museum. He stayed at your house to share a meal with your family. The banter was there and it was still enjoyable but you couldn’t deny the fact that the new Anthony was way more favorable. You were now in the Bridgerton home after being invited by the siblings for a meal in the garden. The weather was amazing and Anthony had just installed beautiful lamps that illuminated the garden.

“I would like you to be my sister, Y/N,” Francesca announced after helping her choose a bow. She settled with a peach-colored bow that went beautifully with her hair. You chuckled, brushing off her comment.

“Are we not like sisters already?” you asked, tying the bow perfectly around a lock of hair.

“We are…but it would be better if you lived with us,” she said. “Or visited us more,”

“I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling neglected,” you told her honestly, your hand caressing her hair gently. “But now that the social season is over, we can see each other more.”

“You promise?” she asked.

“Of course. Daphne, Eloise, and you could all come visit me at home. We’ll have the night all to ourselves in my bedroom. I’ll prepare your favorite sweets and we can just talk the whole night. How does that sound?” you asked, your heart warming when Francesca beams at you.

“I’ll have to ask Anthony but I would love to!” she says. “I would have to go to Daphne and Eloise to tell them. Thank you for fixing my hair!”

You sat back on the couch afterwards, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. You were thinking of all the preparations you might have to do when they do decide to visit. Your eyes darted to a sound and watched the Viscount sit down beside you. While he settled, you closed your eyes. The social season was tiring and it was hard to find rest sometimes.

“You haven’t been here for an hour. Why do I hear Fransesca talking to Daphne and Eloise about a possible visit?” he asked, closing his eyes to rest. He’s been cooped up in his study for hours to oversee the estate.

“She’s right. Maybe not soon, though,” you replied, voice soft. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” he says and no words were spoken. The noise outside the house was forgotten now. Your and his even breathing both lulled you to sleep and it was your mothers who found you and Anthony’s heads leaning on each other, just like you did when you were kids.

-

Anthony has been occupying all of the spaces inside your head recently. Sometimes, you were scared that your mind was projecting him because he’d always be there. You’d walk in the hallways and hear him laughing with you father. You’d be in town with your maid and he’s there, inviting you for gelato. You’d go home with a faint smile playing on your lips before reminding yourself that it was Anthony.

“Miss, the Viscount Bridgerton is here to see you,” your maid says. She took note of how you immediately smiled. “He’s been here…a lot,” she teased.

“We are friends, Mary. Of course, he’d be here,” you told her. “Besides, we grew up together,”

“Of course…but…”

“What?” you asked, fixing the tendrils of hair on your face. “Do I look alright?”

“Since when did you think about how you looked in front of Viscount Bridgerton?” she teased, laughing when your mouth was open agape. She had a point. “If it’s any consolation, you look amazing. I’m sure the Viscount would think you look amazing…if he doesn’t already,”

Confusing feelings that you nursed plagued you. Every now and then, you’d feel flustered when you felt his eyes on you. It was funny, really but what’s funnier was how everyone seemed to know but the two of you. Nothing escapes anyone, especially Lady Danbury who, along with the Bridgertons, visited your house for dinner.

You were all over the table, quiet as you heard murmurs from everyone. Your mother was talking to her friends while your father talked to Benedict and Colin about their travels. It seemed as though the only people who weren’t speaking were you and Anthony. You looked around the dining table, trying to listen in on all kinds of conversations when your eyes landed on the Viscount. He was already looking at you, a teasing smile on his face and you felt your cheeks warm. You looked away quickly, sipping on your lemonade, never noticing that his eyes were still glued on you.

-

“You both have to do something about those children of yours,” Lady Danbury commented, her eyebrow raised expectantly. “Do you think they’re fooling anyone at all? I’ve seen how they stole glances from one another. It was not subtle,”

“I know,” Violet agreed. “I’ve seen Anthony look at her. Really, all his siblings seem to know too,”

“Y/N is the same,” your mother added. “She’s always off to run with Anthony. Have you noticed?”

Meanwhile, you were all in the garden. Benedict and Eloise were huddled together in the swings while you were laying on the picnic blanket. You didn’t care if it seemed appropriate. They were the Bridgertons, they never minded. You were looking up at the stars when Anthony blocked the view. A mischievous idea pops inside your head and you extended your arm upwards.

“Anthony, will you help me up?”

Anthony takes your hand but before he helps you, you pulled him down, sending him flat on the space beside you.

“You’re dead!” he exclaims as you run away from him.

“Benedict, help me!” you called, as you increase your speed.

“Don’t you dare, brother,” Anthony threatens, running after you. His heart fills with warmth when he heard your boisterous laugh. You were so carefree and so joyful.

Your screams rang through the garden when Anthony’s arms wrap around your waist. You looked at him, laughing.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that,” he scolds, tickling your sides. “Stop squirming! That’s your punishment!” he laughed, tickling you more. Suddenly, you both stopped, noticing the close proximity between the two of you. Your faces were inches away from each other and you both looked away, coughing. Unknown to you two, his siblings were smiling in amusement.

“Eloise!” you called. “Didn’t you want me to help you with something? Let us go,”

Anthony could only watch while you scurry off with Eloise and his sisters somewhere.

“Scandalous, is it not, brother?” Colin teased which earned him a light shove from the Viscount. His siblings watched him follow you with amusement. Someone has to do something about the two of you.

-

“What was that?” Eloise asked you when you reached your bedroom.

“Was what?” you feigned innocence. Daphne was with the two of you, sitting on your bed with her eyebrow raised.

“Everybody saw that,” Daphne said. “You know, it’s no harm to tell us about how you feel towards Anthony. The attraction is so obvious!”

“I agree with Daphne,” Eloise added. “While I do think that marriage is a trap, I fully support you marrying into our family. You’re good to us and Daphne’s right. There’s attraction there,”

“Since when did you girls know about attraction?” you mused. “You lot are still young,”

“Seems like we’re less clueless than you are,” Francesca teased, making thr girls giggle.

“Anthony is agitating,” you relent. “He’s kind and playful,”

“What is it that you look for in a husband?” Daphne asked, playing with a dainty necklace that you gifted her before.

“Someone kind and well, I’d love it if it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Sometimes, you get that feeling, you know? Like you’ve known them for a lifetime and everything just falls into place.” you said. “Someone who understands…someone patient. I’d like to marry someone who can make me laugh. I’d like to have a big family and marry someone coming from one…oh, dear,” you muttered. You were describing Anthony Bridgerton.

“That sounds a lot like…”

“Anthony!” Daphne gasped, seeing the man on your doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Mother is looking for you girls,” he says, looking expectantly at his sisters.

“Anthony, you always ruin the fun!” Eloise glared. “We were having girl talk, if you weren’t aware,”

“It’s alright, Eloise,” Daphne says. “Let us go and let them have a moment of privacy,”

Eloise could only scowl at Anthony while Daphne ushers her out. Anthony breathes a sigh of relief as he looks ar you for permission.

“May I?”

“Of course, Anthony.” you smiled. “Come in. Did you need anything?”

Anthont doesn’t answer. Instead, he locks the door behind him. You gape as he walked nearer, until you were face to face. You were close again and you could feel him.

“Is something the matter?” you asked softly. “Would you tell me?”

“I heard what you told my sisters,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “Is it true? That the man you’re looking for sounds exactly like me?”

“Anthony—“

“If you must know, I feel the same.” he said. “I’ve been putting these emotions away from me because you once said that you were in no rush to get married. I thought that if I waited for you long enough, then you’d want to be married to me but I cannot wait any longer. Did you know how miserable I was when I thought that you and Sir Alfred were courting? I set it off for you but I am a selfish man and I cannot wait any longer. So tell me, is it true?”

You felt your throat constrict when Anthony’s gaze drops on your lips. Should you kiss him right now to convey your emotions?

“It is,” you replied. “But I’ve been keeping my emotions at bay because I feel the same,”

Anthony beams.

“Say it,” he whispers. “Say what you feel.”

“I love you, Anthony,” you replied. Anthony takes your head and kisses you deeply. You felt every emotion there is; inching your face closer to the roughness of his calloused hand. He moves away slowly and lays you down on your bed; him crawling on top of you to attach his lips on yours again.

“I love you too,” he mumbles softly, kissing the soft skin under your ear. Anthony would’ve liked it better if he could hear the soft whimpers that came from you. He trails down to your neck, and then the hemline of your chest. “I love you…so much. Tell me you love me,”

“I love you,” you whine.

“If you let me, I’d still want to court you properly and formally. Will you let me?” he whispered.

“We’re way past courting if you’re kissing me like this,”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Never.”

(If you know who Alfred is based off of, comment to get a follow from me…u deserve it)

cc: @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @pink-lemo​ @lana-isabelle​ @evelyn3000​ @simran1111​ @marrilly @jemimah-b99​ @goldeng1rl8​ @lovely-him​ @wreckedsymphony​ @silvermistt​ @rexit-mo​ @chazubagi @freyathehuntress​ @flourishandblotts-inc​​ @  @bellaiscool​​  @rayodesol97​ @munsonology​ @miyababbby @jesslexi1170 

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfic #fluff #oneshot #one shot #imagine

[tea-stained-notes]

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader – One Last Summer

Y/N is many things: Daphne's best friend, gifted artist, new money, honorary Bridgerton – and hopelessly in love with Benedict. But when she finds herself suddenly engaged to a brutish army captain stationed in India, she is faced with the loss of everything she has grown to adore. With time running out, one last visit to Aubrey Hall will decide her fate.

Months ago I had a random phase of obsessing over Benedict Bridgerton (don't we all at some point) and dove head-first into this – then somehow took an eternity to finish it. It's angsty af, but don’t worry, there’s also plenty of Bridgerton shenanigans and tooth-rotting fluff because Benny is too adorable for this world

Warnings: angst and anxiety

Word Count: ~8400

A warm summer breeze caresses my heated skin as I finally emerge from the carriage and lay eyes on Aubrey Hall. Lush flowers and greenery adorn the inviting front and I am still taking in the sight when I notice Eloise and Penelope rounding the corner, the Bridgerton sister gesticulating in what must be one of her political rants. Behind them, Gregory and Hyacinth emerge, chasing each other and screaming in delight. My stomach swoops at the sight – how I have missed them all. “Good morning!” I call over to them, waving with an excitement I would scarcely allow myself to display anywhere else. But here, everything is different. Has always been different.

“Y/N!” They all rush over to me, enveloping me in hugs and chattering over each other. “Finally! It’s been ages!” “Daphne has been insufferable without you around!” “Come play with us!” I laugh, begging them for a moment to breathe after the journey. Daphne appears in the entryway, closely followed by Violet. I walk quickly towards my best friend, arms wide open. “Daph!” “Oh thank Goodness you have made it!” She hugs me tightly, her familiar perfume mingling with the smell of grass and sun-warmed skin. “Have you been playing croquet without me?” “Oh, has Anthony already come moaning to you about his well-deserved loss?” “I can smell it on you, along with your smugness” I say with a grin. “And your brother has grown quite even-tempered since the wedding.” “Well, unfortunately he is still the sorest loser I know.” “Which is a feat in itself amongst this competitive bunch,” Violet says with a twinkle in her eyes before taking my hands in hers and looking me up and down. “Welcome back, darling. You look thin, please do not tell me that you’re trying to fit into one of those outrageous wedding gowns that seem to be made for dolls.” I wince at the mention of my upcoming nuptials but hastily cover it up with a chuckle. “Quite the opposite, at the last fitting my seamstress was rather disgruntled that she would have to take in the waist even further. It is just a bit of a nervous stomach, with all the impending change.” “But as a young bride you should be more happy than nervous, no?” “Mama,” Daphne scolds softly, while Eloise openly rolls her eyes. “I suppose I should.” “Why not at least wait until dinner with such questions?” comes a voice from my right, “Your forwardness single-handedly erodes our renowned British reserve.” I grin at Colin before pulling him into a hug and ruffling his coiffed hair. Being a year older, I have always indulged in playing big sister with him. He sighs in feigned annoyance. “I was going to say that it’s good to see you but I am already regretting that sentiment.” “Liar,” I snicker. Violet’s glance dances between us. I believe she once suspected a blossoming romance between Colin and me, but while I love him dearly as a surrogate brother, he has never made my heart flutter. Not that I could have ever betrayed poor Penelope anyway, whose bright eyes are locked on him as always. And not that I would ever actually marry a Bridgerton. I may have dared to dream of it ten years ago, when I first met Daphne and immediately became fast friends with her despite our age difference. When her family welcomed me into their home with such fervour and warmth that I could hardly believe my luck. With my mother having died from influenza when I was little and no other siblings to grow up with, the Bridgertons became the family I could have never imagined for myself. And the idea of marrying into it one day, of making my bond with them all official, that was the greatest aspiration I could envisage. But the one brother who has always fascinated me is nowhere in sight and I try to be glad for it. “Come, let’s get you settled before the rest of the battalion descends upon you.” Daphne pulls me inside while I give a grateful smile to the servants hurrying after us with my luggage. “So where is your charming husband?” I ask as we ascend the staircase. “And little Amelia? I have been dying to see her again.” “Simon was held up by business, he will arrive in a few days. And the little one is in the gardens with her nanny. I will call for some lemonade and once you have freshened up, we shall go out to see her and catch up. You have so much to tell me.” “I last saw you two months ago and we write constantly,” I laugh. “But all the things that have happened in those two months! Your engagement first and foremost. I simply must know everything, I certainly require more detail than the few lines from your letters.” My insides squirm at her eagerness but I manage a somewhat enthusiastic nod. She comes to a stop in front of a door. “Your usual guest room is having some work done, so I had my old room prepared for you – I hope you don’t mind.” “Not at all, it will be nice, I haven’t been in there since your wedding.” “And Mama has kept it exactly the same, you know how sentimental she gets.” Daphne sounds teasing yet her smile is nothing but fond. She gives me another hug. “I am so glad you are here. I’ve missed you. We all have.” “And I have missed you.”

Once my bags and I are safely inside, I inhale deeply and take in the stillness for a moment. Arriving at any Bridgerton residence always feels like being caught in a whirlwind and as much as I love them all, it can be overwhelming at times, especially after the often stifling silence of my own home. I wander over to the window, letting my eyes trail over the gardens, alive with an abundance of colours that makes my heart sing. Until it stops abruptly. There he is. Deeply lost in his brush strokes as he recreates the wonders around him. His vest is unbuttoned, his shirt carelessly gaping open at the top, his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Even from afar, Benedict Bridgerton ignites a well-known fire inside of me. Whenever I am away from him, I can almost convince myself that this age-old infatuation is nothing but a figment, a silly flight of fancy. Sometimes I can almost forget about him entirely, distract myself with my artistic pursuits, with other friends or travel. But then I notice a piece of melody flowing from my fingers that somehow reminds me of him or look down at a drawing in surprise, having unconsciously once again traced his familiar features. Still I repress it, abandon the fantasy of someone so far above my station. Someone who sees me as a family friend and nothing more. And now that I am engaged to be married I should purge my mind of him entirely, yet especially in these last few weeks I have scarcely thought of anything else, convinced that my longing could not possibly grow stronger. But the mere tangibility of him unravels me completely. I long to rush downstairs to see him and at the same time it is the one thing I fear the most. After a long moment I tear my gaze away and turn to the washing bowl. To my dismay, the cool water does little to calm my racing pulse and thoughts. Clean and unpacked I head towards the door, but halt half-way. Because as always, when I am in Daphne's room, my eyes fall on the painting of us. It is wonderfully serene, the two of us sitting on a picnic blanket in the gardens. She is engrossed in a book, but I am looking over my shoulder, smiling softly at the artist. It was Benedict of course. I remember vividly how I turned around to find him crouching with a sketchbook in his hand, capturing the scene in quick strokes. His face lit up and he winked at me before deftly outlining my expression. Later he transferred the motif onto a proper canvas, so I never got to see the original sketch. I have always wondered whether I had really looked at him like that. So openly enamoured.

I wander down the halls towards the open French doors leading into the garden when a voice pulls me from my reverie so suddenly I almost trip over my feet. “There you are.” I look up only to be met with a dazzling smile, gleaming eyes and a hint of spicy aftershave in the air. My stomach drops. “Mr. Bridgerton.” His smile falters briefly. He always insists on me calling him by his first name, yet I have never been able to. When we met he was already eighteen, a grown man at first sight. It had felt only right to address him with the same courtesy as his older brother. And even as we grew closer, as I learned of his boyish temperament, often bordering on immaturity, I never found the courage to simply call him Benedict. If only to keep up the semblance of a wall between us, a desperate attempt at shielding my heart. Not that I have ever succeeded in that endeavour. “Everyone’s been speaking of your arrival. How wonderful you have found time to join us.” “The pleasure is all mine, as always,” I reply, ignoring the pull in my chest. “Have you finished your painting?” I gesture at the art supplies in his arms. “Not quite, but I’m afraid duty calls. Some business I need to talk over with Anthony.” “Ah, I too have an enormously urgent appointment with your sister.” We share a light chuckle. “I am sure she has scheduled three hours at the least to learn all about your… plans.” The word comes out strangely forced but he catches himself quickly. “Will I see you at dinner?” “How could I ever miss one of Mrs. Brodie’s delicacies? I have had actual dreams of her rosemary chicken.” “You are not a true Bridgerton until you’ve had one of those dreams,” he says with a grin but it wavers slightly as the words sink in. He knows as well as I do that no number of dreams will ever make me a true Bridgerton. I swallow thickly before putting on a smile. “If you will excuse me, I am quite parched after the journey and Daphne has promised lemonade.” “Oh, of course, yes. Don’t let me keep you.” “Goodbye, sir.” “Until tonight, Y/N.” Something in his tone, in the way his lips curve around my name, sends shivers down my spine. With a swift curtsey I turn and practically run out into the open air.

I manage to ward off Daphne’s inquisition well enough. Yes, Captain Parker will be able to provide for me. Yes, he is handsome. Yes, my father approves of him. Luckily, we are regularly interrupted by the various Bridgerton siblings and distracted by little Amelia who is perfectly content as the centre of attention. “I am quite certain one day she will be the diamond of the season,” I declare, ruffling her hair. “Do you really think so?” Daphne is all too happy to swoon about her firstborn and I gladly steer the conversation away from my upcoming wedding. Eventually, I propose another game of croquet, having missed the previous one, and before long the dinner bell is rung. Everyone settles into the dining room and I sink into a comfortable chair, Daphne and Eloise on either side, Benedict across from me. I only notice now that we have always been seated like this during my visits and wonder if it was I who once sought out this particular arrangement. He quickly engages me in a conversation about art and music, the topics that have always connected us, and minute by minute I grow more comfortable in his presence. We fall into passionate discussions and light-hearted banter, only occasionally intercepted by the others around us. And I cannot help pondering if he has ever felt it, too. The sparkling potential between us. The mere idea of what we could have been. No matter how unrealistic, as long we were both unwed, a tiny part of my heart remained reserved for that hope. And every time I arrived at the manor to find him seemingly carefree about the future and with no bride in sight, I was flooded with relief, simultaneously blessed and cursed to hope for a little longer. Until a few weeks ago when those dreams were finally shattered. “So, are you looking forward to India?” Colin suddenly asks. “I would love to visit you there sometime, it must be incredible.” “Surely it would not be proper to interrupt their honeymoon,” Benedict says, somewhat strained. “Oh, it’s not for our honeymoon,” I reply. “My… Captain Parker will be permanently stationed there.” Benedict’s fork clatters onto the plate and we all flinch, the chatter around the table coming to a halt. “You will move to India?” He has gone frighteningly pale. “Yes. Has Daphne not told you?” “I must have,” she sputters, “when I was last in Lon–“ “No, you haven’t.” His words come out unusually harsh and my stomach twists. Everyone is staring at either him or me and Daphne’s eyes flicker between us before she forces a casual smile. “Brother, don’t be silly, I am certain I have. And either way, I shall be the one to miss her the most, no?” She puts an arm around me while giving a pointed look at Kate who quickly collects herself and pulls Anthony and Violet into a chat about their plans for the nursery. Slowly, the usual bustle recommences and I turn back to Colin. “Once we are settled in, you are more than welcome to visit. You all are, of course.” Benedict’s lips are pressed tightly together, his food forgotten.

I find little sleep that night, the image of Benedict imprinted on my mind. He seemed so genuinely upset. I expected him to miss me, of course, but the hint of melancholy I had detected in his features even before the revelation of my upcoming departure to India now haunts me. Losing him was always going to be torture but realising how it might affect him as well has doubled the pain and I start to regret this indulgence of coming to Aubrey Hall for one last summer. When the first sun rays filter through the half-opened curtains I inhale deeply, trying to infuse a little hope and joy into the beginning of this new day. And when Daphne surprises me with the idea of a relaxed breakfast in bed I almost believe it has worked. A while later we find ourselves in the parlour, Eloise engrossed in a book after Penelope’s earlier departure, Daphne rocking a fussy Amelia to sleep in her arms, and I sketching absently. I startle when Benedict walks in, slightly more dishevelled than usual. “Daph, Y/N. Just the pair I’ve been looking for.” “Good morning to you as well, dear brother,” Eloise says with a smirk. He bows excessively in her direction and I cannot help but smile at their antics. “Good morning, my darling sister.” They share a grin before he turns back to us. “I wanted to apologise for my little outburst at dinner. I was tired and the news took me by surprise.” He clears his throat. “I do hope you forgive me.” “Of course, sir,” I hasten to reply. “One could have almost suspected you of being jealous of a certain Captain Parker.” “Eloise!” Daphne chides but she too eyes her brother and me curiously. Before I can try to decipher either my feelings or his expression, Violet walks in, rubbing her hands enthusiastically. “Good morning, children! Who of you will kindly join us for a walk?” Daphne rises as Amelia starts crying once more and Violet immediately offers to take her. While they deliberate on the benefits of a walk for the baby, Benedict settles beside me, merely a few feet between us. I try to ignore the goosebumps forming on my skin at his soft smile. “May I?” He points at my sketchbook. I press it shut with hurried force. “No.” “Oh.” His face falls a little. “Forgive me, I did not mean to pry.” There is dejection in his eyes, but also confusion. I have always shared my sketches with him, just as my compositions, needlework and poetry. We have always valued each other’s opinions and advice. So naturally he is taken aback by my sudden reservedness. But how can I explain the shift from peaceful, colourful motifs to the utter gloom that has been dominating my sketches lately? The impending thunderstorms, the dark forests. And possibly worse, the countless drawings of him. Sometimes just his fingers, delicately holding a paintbrush, sometimes his entire silhouette, but mostly his boyishly handsome face that my eyes unerringly find the second I enter a room. If it scares me how much of my waking thought he is taking up – how much would it scare him? “I– I’m sorry, sir. I have not been feeling very… confident about my work lately.” “I can hardly believe that to be justified in any way. You have always possessed a raw talent I can scarcely dream of.” “That is not true.” “Well then, I challenge you.” Mischief sparkles in his eyes and an inadvertent giggle escapes me. “You mean it? We have not done that in ages.” “All the more reason to do it now.” “Y/N, are you coming?” Daphne calls across the room. “She is otherwise engaged,” Benedict grins before I can reply. “Is that so?” “Your brother has thrown down the gauntlet and I’m afraid I shall have to pick it up.” Daphne rolls her eyes, amusement playing on her lips. “Are you having one of your silly art competitions again? What is it this time?” “Portraits,” I say hastily. “We will paint each other. Fifteen minutes, as usual.” I wonder what possessed me to choose Benedict’s face as the subject, of all things. Most likely pure masochism. I do not dare gauge his reaction although I can feel his eyes on me. “Well, Amelia needs her walk now.” Daphne glances at the crying baby in Violet’s arms. “I suppose we shall see you both later. I’ll be happy to choose a winner then.” “You’re hardly impartial,” Benedict grumbles. “Neither are you when it comes to Y/N,” she retorts. Before I can begin to untangle her accusation she has breezed out the door.

Eloise is as bad a chaperone as ever, engrossed in her book a few yards away in the shade, while Benedict sets up his canvas beside me. Mine is leaning up against my chair. Despite my excessive practice I was not quite able to capture his essence. Perhaps because it felt so strikingly different from the other times he sat for me. I had asked him not to speak, as to not strain my jittery nerves even further, and he had obliged, albeit reluctantly. But with every passing second the silence between us grew heavier, along with his expression. It weighed down my piece of charcoal, making it impossible to find my usual ease in sketching. Just when I feared it might crumble between my tense fingers, Benedict murmured, “Time’s up” with a glance at his pocket watch. Before he could peek at the result I hurriedly asked for a lunch break which we spent with an unusually talkative Anthony. Now we have returned to our previous spot and he sets up his own work. “May I ask,” he says after the first few strokes, “why the quick engagement? Did you know immediately that he was the right man for you?” His jaw clenches while he firmly stares at the canvas. My hands grow clammy, clutching his watch tightly. “I could hardly afford such luxuries anymore. At four-and-twenty my chances of finding the ‘right’ man have been dwindling about as fast as my father’s faith in me receiving a proposal at all.” “You make yourself sound like an old spinster.” “Well, in the eyes of the ton I am. I should consider myself lucky to be engaged at last.” “But you don’t?” His eyes search mine intently until I drop my gaze, scared of what he might find in it. “Of course. Very lucky indeed.” Once more a long silence hangs between us. I suddenly feel impossibly tired. And as much as I want to blame the summer heat and sleepless nights, I know this weariness runs much deeper. The exhaustion of holding up the pretence that I am even remotely content with my lot. “Look at me, please,” Benedict murmurs and I follow his request without hesitation, taken aback by the deep concern in his features. He thanks me softly before resuming his quiet work. “Will you not be terribly lonely in India?” he finally asks. I bite my lip. “Not for long, I hope.” What I cannot say is that I am almost glad to go. To miss them all from so far away they will hardly feel real. To not see them fall in love and lead lives I will barely be a part of. To not sit and watch Benedict await his bride at the altar, breaking inside because it should be me walking down that aisle towards him. To not look at the children who have his wild hair and lopsided grin and not find a single trace of me in their faces. I blink away tears, desperate to change the subject before he manages to poke even more holes into my façade. “And what of your plans for the future, sir? Anything exciting on the horizon?” He pauses for a moment, seemingly debating whether to indulge me. “You will think me foolish, but lately I've been thinking about opening my own academy one day. One where your wealth and sex do not matter, where you are accepted on merit and passion alone. And perhaps when you are a personal friend of the owner.” He winks at me and I stare at him in feigned indignation. “Are you saying my merit and passion would not suffice?” “Not at all. If anything, you possess too much of both, so I would have to keep you in a private class as to not discourage the other students.” I glance down at my lap, hiding both my smile and the blush forming on my cheeks. “Well, I think, it sounds anything but foolish. You could grant opportunities to so many people who will never find them anywhere else. Promise you will write to me when that dream becomes a reality.” I look back up at him, surprised at the soft wonder in his eyes, then let mine travel down to his lips as they curve into a half-smirk. “When, not if? You flatter me.” “I believe in you. I always have. And I dearly hope that one of us will be allowed to live his dream.” Benedict swallows, all traces of mirth erased from his features. “Y/N, you–” “Time’s up,” I say, without a single glance at the watch. He bites his tongue while an entire palette of emotions flits across his face. “Here you are!” We both startle when Daphne appears beside me, placing her hands on my shoulders with a wide grin. “Brother, stop capitalising on my dear friend's time. She is my guest after all.” “And here I thought she liked to spend time with all of us,” Eloise comments and I suddenly wonder how much of our previous conversation she has eavesdropped on while appearing lost in her reading. The other Bridgertons trail behind Daphne, evidently tired from their stroll in the sun. Colin immediately snorts as he peeks at the canvas. “You cannot be painting Y/N again. Do you not have an entire portrait gallery of her already?” “Well, none of you little gremlins ever hold still for even a minute.” “I've sat for you plenty of times,” Daphne protests. “Yes, and you look like you'd rather hang every single time.” “Benedict!” Violet scolds gently. “Well, let’s see them then. You do need a few judges after all.” Despite my weak protests, both sketches are propped up beside each other a few moments later. The Bridgertons remain unusually quiet. “They are both fine works,” Violet says eventually. “But you two seem so…” “Gloomy,” Kate finishes. Everyone nods. “Did Eloise bore you with an excerpt from her book while you were drawing?” Colin quips and ducks as said book comes flying at his head. Within seconds the family is caught in familiar chaos and I let myself be dragged off to another lunch despite feeling so queasy I might never eat again. When I glance back at Benedict he only manages the barest of smiles.

The week and a half of my stay at Aubrey Hall passes in a turmoil of emotions. As much as I love spending time with the Bridgertons and try to fully revel in their company, it unnerves me. Feeling their observant eyes on me, the underlying tension in the air, I have been growing more short-tempered and nervous, increasingly avoiding the presence of the people I love the most to escape their questions, both voiced and unspoken. The portrait of Benedict lies buried in his studio. I could not bear having his charcoal eyes stare at me with the same apprehension as his soft green ones. Being around him has lost all the ease we used to share despite my infatuation. I am glad when Simon joins us, creating a distraction for Daphne and thus some room for myself. But no amount of wandering the familiar halls and gardens, hiding away in the library or furiously filling page after page of my sketchbook can calm my racing mind. Anxiety has nestled deep inside my chest, constricting my lungs and churning in my stomach. And then it arrives: My last day at the manor. They surprise me with a picnic under clear blue skies and despite my incessant sorrow it turns out rather lovely. Before long, the little ones are running around and I find myself pulled in all directions, playing and frolicking in the sun. The adults disperse as well, picking up games or strolling through the gardens in deep conversation. Eventually, I sink down onto a blanket next to Daphne and Amelia, out of breath and surprisingly cheerful. My friend looks over at me, a wistful expression on her face. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your time with us,” she says softly. “Of course,” I reply automatically. “I always do.” I let my eyes wander over the scenes around us and the despite the joy in the air, panic and despair once more rise in my throat. Cotton fills my ears, then my entire skin starts to tingle. And suddenly it comes crashing down on me. The intense finality of these last few days with the Bridgertons. The very real possibility that I might never return to Aubrey Hall, never again chatter with Daphne, joke with Colin, debate with Eloise. Never chase the younger siblings across the rolling greens or laugh at a seething Anthony after an eventful croquet match. Never have a single moment alone with Benedict. I have been a fool for believing that distance would make me miss them all any less. Because at this moment I am certain that I will be longing for these days for the rest of my life. Still, the sob that rips from my mouth takes me by surprise. “Y/N?” Daphne turns to me, little Amelia on her lap eyeing me warily. I want to reassure her but instead tears start flowing uncontrollably. “Oh my dear!” Daphne sets her daughter down on the blanket, then throws her arms around me. “Y/N, whatever is the matter?” I cannot find my voice for several minutes, overwhelmed by the most intense sorrow I have felt since my mother's passing. When I finally speak, the words come out raspy and broken. “I am going to miss you all so much.” “Well, how awful would it be if you didn't?” Daphne says, a half-smile on her lips but it fades as she inspects my face. “Is it more than that? Are you truly not looking forward to marriage at all? I know it can be daunting, Simon and I have had a rocky path as well, but now I cannot imagine a life without him.” “Because you love him!” The words come out rougher than intended and Amelia winces, her mouth curling into a frown. I quickly cradle her in my arms before she can start crying as well. Nuzzling her soft hair I avoid Daphne’s eyes. “You've always loved him, Daph. Even when you could not yet admit it to yourself, even when you did not know that he returned your feelings.” A tense pause stretches between us. “Do you truly believe you will never love Captain Parker?” she finally whispers. I bite my lip, unable to answer. “Y/N, why on earth did you accept his proposal if you cannot see a happy life with him?” I want to scream at her, want to rage at her naiveté, her inability to grasp the gravity of my situation. But I cannot. Not at my best friend who does not know and can never know how this engagement came about. “If you do not want this, I can help you,” she says softly now. “We will find a perfect match for you next season. Who knows, maybe even somewhere along the way until then?” Daphne attempts another soft smile and my tears start flowing again. If only it were this simple. She reaches for my hand while I am pressing Amelia closer with the other, relishing in her warmth and quiet babbling. “It pains me to see you like this. There must be something I can do. I realise that Anthony and I have been very lucky to have found our partners, but if it is not love that persuades you to marry, it should at least be mutual respect and fondness. I am certain we can find such a man for you, if only–” “No,” I say determinedly. “I am grateful to you, Daph, but it is too late.” “Too late because you're afraid to break off the engagement or because your heart is already taken?” I gasp. “Daphne–” “Is it someone I know?” “No, it's no one. There is no one.” I press a kiss to Amelia's head, then place her in her mother's arms. Wiping my face, I rise to my feet. “I am sorry for my outburst. Do forgive me. I just need a moment to myself.” “Y/N–” “Thank you for the picnic.” Brushing away fresh tears I flee the picture-perfect scene that now only breaks my heart.

Hours later everyone is bustling about in the parlour, impatiently awaiting dinner. I have claimed the piano in the corner and let my fingers wander over the keys, following a soft, melancholy tune. My gaze loses focus in the middle distance as I calculate the number of hours I have left here. There is no clock in the room and yet I can hear an unrelenting ticking. “Is that your latest composition?” I flinch before my eyes find Benedict's, his lacking their usual sparkle. “I– I am not certain...” I clear my throat and Daphne briefly glances over at me, worry in her features. “I'm still working on it.” “It's beautiful.” “You do not sound quite convinced,” I say with a weak attempt at a smile. “No, I mean it. Every piece you compose is beautiful. It's just... It sounds so deeply sad.” I suddenly sense how the atmosphere in the room has changed. Even the little ones have gone quiet, with everyone stealing looks of concern at me. “I am so sorry, I did not mean to ruin the mood. Please carry on.” I chuckle nervously and the Bridgertons are kind enough to return to their antics, albeit slightly forced. “Y/N, are you alright?” Benedict's voice is low but strained. I turn back to the keys, once more biting back tears. “Of course, sir. I am perfectly fine.” “You do not seem like yourself,” he murmurs. “You are usually.... softer. But also stronger. With such a zest for life. I've never seen you like this, so burdened, so sombre.” I raise my chin, attempting to look challenging rather than heartbroken at his astute observation. “And what about you, Mr. Bridgerton? These past few days you have hardly been the carefree man I've come to know.“ “Then you must know that you are the cause.” We both still. Blood is rushing in my ears as I try to steel myself for something I fear and crave in equal measure. But after a long moment he shakes his head, swallowing heavily. “I worry about you, Y/N. We all do. I know things have not always been easy for you but until now I believed our family could provide you with comfort. And if that is somehow no longer the case, surely the prospect of starting your own family should excite you.” I hopelessly rifle through my mind for an answer that might assuage him once and for all. “Dinner is ready, my lady.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Wonderful!” Violet smiles at the servant who has appeared in the doorway, then claps her hands. Her offspring rises from floor and sofas, muttering about being starved while jostling towards the dining room. I stand up so quickly the piano stool topples over and I reach for it at the same time as Benedict. Our hands briefly touch in mid-air, sending a spark through mine before I can pull away. He stares at me, the ticking even louder than before. “Y/N, you must know that you can confide in me.” “There is nothing to confide, sir.” “Benedict.” My face runs hot at both the insistence on his first name and the multitude of my confessions boiling so close to the surface. His features soften as he subconsciously draws closer and I scramble to my feet, heart pounding wildly. “We should go, everyone is waiting.” Before he can reply I rush out of the parlour, pressing clammy hands to my cheeks to soothe the fire in them.

Dinner is strangely quiet and whenever I glance over at Benedict I find him already looking at me. For the millionth time this week I wonder if I should not have discredited his motives so quickly, should not have dismissed his attempts at forming a tighter bond between us for the fear of falling too far. Is it possible I might have misread him all these years? Too blind in my self-deprecation, too caught up in worries about money and class when he never seemed to care much for these things, when perhaps he could have easily seen beyond them? Should I have rather flown too close to the sun than never have flown at all? When the children have gone to bed I linger with the others, barely engaging in the conversation over drinks but unwilling to embark on the hours of anxious brooding in the dark ahead of me. Eventually, the yawns become more frequent and one by one the Bridgertons retire until at last Daphne and I make our way upstairs as well. I halt as we pass the library. “I’m not quite tired enough for bed. I am going to peruse the books for a while.” Daphne turns to me, deeply mournful. “Y/N, I so wish you would tell me what is going on.” I feel my bottom lip begin to quiver and shake my head vehemently. “I can’t.” “Why ever not? Are we not confidants? I have always told you everything.” “And I am so grateful for your trust and friendship.” I envelop her in a tight hug. “I will be alright. Do not worry about me.” “How can I not worry when my best friend is so clearly unhappy?” She draws back to examine me once more. “I have had my happiness. With you, with your family. That shall be enough. Not everyone finds a happy ending.” “But you so deserve it,” she says, grasping my hand. “Both you and–“ She stops herself abruptly. “Who?” “Never mind.” I want to ask again but nod instead. She seizes a candleholder from a side table and lights it with the flame of her own. “Take this. And don’t stay up too late. We will speak again in the morning.” “Goodnight, Daph.” I slip into the dark library and carefully close the door behind me. After a few deep breaths I walk around the room, lighting more candles, until I am startled by a soft knock. With a sigh I move to open the door. “Daphne, please, can we–“ The words die in my throat. Benedict stands before me, carrying a grave expression. “I need to speak with you.” “Sir, you have to leave,” I splutter. “What if someone sees us? Daphne might still be nearby.” “She was the one to tell me where to find you.” “What, why?” “Because she knows.” “Knows what?” A long pause. Then he carefully pushes past me and presses the door shut. I can do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “Sir, you–“ “Are you fond of your...”, he clears his throat, “your fiancé?” “Excuse me?” “It's a simple question.” My chest tightens as panic once again seeps into my veins. “I am hoping I can learn to be.” His eyes burn into mine, brimming with concern. “Y/N, are you scared of him?” “Sir–“ “Benedict, please. Please.” “No. I– I'm sorry, I...” I am so tired of crying, so I bury my nails painfully into my palms to hold back the tears. Still, I am shaking before him. He slightly raises his arms, as if wanting to pull me into a hug, and I wish more than anything I could let him without risking to fall apart entirely. “You must break off the engagement.” “I can't.” “Y/N, you're terrified. That is not a life you're entering, it is torture. And it’s killing us to know that you are hurting, that you might not be safe – it’s killing me. Is he choleric? I swear, if he ever laid a hand on you, I–“ “He already has.” “What?” “At the midsummer ball. He seized me in the gardens and touched me... Kissed me. Lady Clementine saw us and reported to my father. Father claimed that we were engaged and thus we were.” Benedict has turned to the nearest bookshelf, lips in a tight line, knuckles white from grasping the wooden board like a vice. He is trembling and my stomach sinks even further. “Did you explain the situation to your father?” he presses through gritted teeth, eyes boring into the volumes before him. “Of course. But he is deathly afraid of scandal. Our standing in the ton is on such thin ice as is.” “That's not true.” “Yes, it is.” Frustration starts boiling within me, one that I have been harbouring since I first set foot into their manor on Grosvenor Square ten years ago. All this splendour, so nonchalantly taken for granted by the entire family. All those visitors so obviously enchanted by the grand Bridgertons, never questioning their rightful place in this world. “You have no idea what it's like. Your father wasn't just barely rich enough to gain some footing in the ton but not to provide you with an appealing dowry. You have never been an only child, never had to be scared that your family's legacy might crumble if you ever step out of line for even a second, even when it's not your fault!” I am vibrating with restrained anger but quickly run out of steam when his face falls along with his shoulders. “You're right,” he whispers. “Please forgive me.” “I have to apologise as well. You have been born with an array of privileges from your sex to your wealth but I know that you do not flaunt them. However, my options aren't as wonderfully unlimited.” I swallow thickly. “So you see, I cannot end this engagement. My already slim chances would be ruined, who else would make me an offer after this?” “I would.” His reply is immediate, certain, and it crashes into me without warning. My mouth is dry, every nerve in my body alight. “That is incredibly kind, but I could never accept.” My voice nearly fails me. “You deserve a grand life, Benedict.” His eyes widen at the name finally spilling from my lips where I have kept it hidden for so long. “You will be a renowned artist, a gift for society in so many ways. And you deserve a woman you adore by your side, one who will never leave a stain on your good name.” “I have already found her.” His words hit me unexpectedly at first, an instant stab of jealousy in my chest. Then a lump forms in my throat as realisation sets in. A realisation I have never allowed and am not ready for still. “But I cannot seem to make her see that she has held my heart for an entire decade. That her smile and wit and artistic endeavours captivate me more and more with every passing year. That I could have lived with her romantic disinterest in me, had she found someone whose soul matches the beauty of hers.” “Benedict...” “That my name from her lips is the sweetest sound in the world.” “Please stop.” He pauses briefly. “Are you scared of me as well?” “Yes,” I blurt out, “I have been scared of you since the moment we met because you make me forget myself. You make me forget that you are entirely out of reach, that no matter how much I love you, I–“ My hand flies to my mouth, heart slamming into my ribcage. I stumble backwards while muttering senseless apologies. Benedict is stunned into silence. It feels like years pass between us. When he finally speaks, his words are hoarse and quavering. “You... You love me? All these years every advance of mine seemed futile because you thought–“ “Please forget everything I have said. Promise me you will.” “Forget? Forget the most wonderful words I have heard in my life?” “Benedict, I’m begging you…” I give into the tears at last. Whether they are born of desperation, frustration or simple pain, I can no longer tell. He walks towards me, a barely-contained storm on his face. “I refuse to live in a world where I do not hear you say my name every single day. Where I see you but once a year, your light slowly dimming in a loveless marriage. Carrying the children of that... bastard.” Now he is crying, too. “Please do not do that to yourself. Do not submit yourself to such misery. Whether you choose me or not, I will support you. I will do whatever I can to give you a good life. The life of an artist if you want it. That I can promise you. You will always have me.” He sinks down on both knees, his fingers carefully closing around mine. “And if you do choose me... I will do the same and more. I will give you everything I've held in for so long. My love for you will never falter.” I am frantically searching for reasons to deny him because none of this could ever be real, his skin on mine, his unbelievable offer in the air. My mind is reeling, trying and failing to catch up with everything that has transpired these past few moments. Years of dreams and longing, so briskly swept aside to reveal a glimpse at a reality that must be impossible because it always has been. “What would your family say?” I say shakily. “What would everyone say?” His hold on me tightens. “You know my family adores you and would accept you with open arms, no matter the circumstances. And I could not care less about anyone else. The gossip would die, it always does. Lady Whistledown would surely distract them with something else within a week.” A rivulet of hope trickles across my heart. “Could this... could this truly be?” “Tomorrow you will meet him in the city. All you have to do is talk to him one last time. I will be there if you want me to. Heavens, the entire Bridgerton clan will be there if you want us to.” We both chuckle through the tears. “You are not alone in this, Y/N.” I let his words sink in for a long moment. “And what if I choose you?” “Then we can go into town right after to pick out a ring and speak to the vicar.” His thumbs caress my knuckles reverently. “Will you? Will you do me the incredible honour of accepting my hand?” My knees buckle and I lower myself onto the floor before him. The blazing anxiety I have grown almost accustomed to has faded into glowing embers. After having wandered through hell for weeks, I find peace in his hopeful gaze, comfort in the soft contours I am so intimately acquainted with. A kaleidoscope of memories flashes before my eyes, all tinted in new colours. It has always been there, right in front of me: He loves me. And all I have ever had to do was say yes. “The honour would be all mine, Benedict Bridgerton.” A strangled noise escapes him before his eyes frantically scan my face as if they might find a single trace of doubt there. They could never. Not anymore. His hands come up, hovering beside my cheeks. “God, I really want to– Is it alright if I–“ “Yes!” He grins, breathless and blushing. “I haven't even–“ I lunge forward and press my lips to his. It is clumsy and overwhelming but also everything I have ever wanted. He almost tumbles over in surprise, but seconds later we are completely entangled, seeking each other's mouth over and over. Heart pounding, skin aflame, I am certain this is the happiest I have ever been. Because while my body nearly gives out with the strange exhilaration of it all, I also feel perfectly safe. As if this is exactly where I belong, where everything finally makes sense. In between kisses he whispers my name like a confession of love. It is from his lips. When we finally part for air we stare at each other with endless wonder, then start smiling deliriously. I reach out to cradle his face in my palm and he leans into it with a sigh. “Ben,” I murmur, the name unfamiliar but sweet in my mouth. He beams at me. “Come here, darling.” Without hesitation I let him pull me into his lap, just as desperate to be close. I no longer care if anyone finds us like this, am no longer terrified of scandal. Not when I know for certain that I will marry the love of my life, unfazed by gossip and propriety. I nestle into the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his scent, revelling in the warmth and solidness of his chest. His arms encircle me as I feel his heartbeat slow. Knowing it was I who made it race in the first place fills me with a fervent glow. “Do you have the slightest idea how incredible you are?” I say quietly as I lean back a little to look at him. “I cannot believe you would have provided for me if my father had turned me away.” “Without hesitation. You're everything to me, Y/N.” “What would your future wife have said?” “I cannot imagine there ever would have been a wife.” My eyes widen. “Oh Benedict…” “Never mind that.” He gives me a half-smile. “I would have had my family. And hopefully you in some way still.” My heart aches for the unhappy people we would have almost become and I pull him in for another kiss, assuring him and myself that will never be us. Then I am hit with one more realisation. “Wait, when you said that Daphne ‘knows’, did you mean...?“ “About my utter adoration for you? Sweetheart, they all know. Always have. You were the only one who never seemed to see.” “But no one ever–“ “I made sure they wouldn’t bring it up. Although you can imagine how excruciating it was for them.” “But why? Maybe one of them could have pulled me out of my head for once.” He gently caresses my face. “I wanted you to find your own way. Whether it would lead to me or not.” My heart swells with love as I lean my forehead against his. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For waiting. For saving me from myself. For everything.” “You have always been worth it.” We once again lose ourselves in a long kiss and I wonder how I would have made it through life without even a fraction of this bliss. Eventually, Benedict draws back, pure warmth in his eyes. “As much as I would like to stay here forever, I’m afraid we have to leave. Daphne may or may not still be standing guard outside.” I raise a hand to my mouth, trying in vain to suppress the giggle spilling out. He grins widely, then releases me and lets me pull him to his feet. “She is truly the best friend one could ask for.” “Oh, make no mistake, she will use this against us for the rest of our lives.” I smile up at him. “And I will cherish every second of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

MASTERLIST

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff

[weirdmorefics]

Hi! What about a sister!Bridgerton reader and she’s Eloise twin and since everyone has always been focused on Eloise and her finding a man, they kinda leave out reader and reader got used to it and at her and Eloises first ball(I forgot what they call it 😂) everyone is so focused on getting Eloise ready that reader gets ready by herself and they all realize they’ve been neglecting reader after they see she’s already found a man/boy and she’s dancing with him and having a fun time, /they try to apologize but she doesn’t accept their apology yet and they feel jealous that she’s spending a lot of time with the boys family and not them, and Eloise feels bad and upset because she was the one getting all the attention and not reader and that’s why everyone is upset

Tag You’re It

x Sister!Reader

Warnings- SO MUCH ANGST 

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 771

Summary- Reader thinks about accepting her family’s apology and looks back on her childhood

Anthony begged me to join the family for Pall Mall he said I never am there for family events ever since my suitor started courting me. I find it odd that they want me there now that I am gone but were always focused on Eloise when I was there. I suppose that is just life when you are Eloise’s twin she has always been the louder mischievous twin and I have always been reserved and liked the idea of dances and dresses. Eloise hates traditional ideas and makes it known so Mother worried all about me and I felt invisible all because I like traditional ideals. My brothers find her amusing with her antics and I feel boring compared to her. Daphne is constantly worried about her she is just like Mother that way but I wish she still had time to play piano duets like we did when we were children. Of course, Gregory and Hyacinth weren’t interested in me and my love of music they cared more about Eloise‘s crazy antics. I mean what child wouldn’t be.  The only sibling I have ever been close to is Francessa we bond mostly on the loneliness we feel in our family but we only talk in letters now because she is going to boarding school.

Life has been very lonely since Francessa went to boarding school. I wish I could talk to her about my suitor. It is my and Eloise’s first season and I think I have received a good amount of suitors with Daphne’s reputation. I have a lot of home skills as well which attracted many suitors. The maids were my friends they taught me many home skills. They were there to help me pick which gowns went best with my eyes. I love them like family I will sadly have to leave them someday when I leave this house that use to be a home. I miss when we were all younger and it was okay for Eloise to be rambunctious. Truth be told I still love her wild side I just wish that it did not make me fade into the background. If only my siblings let Eloise be and we could climb trees like we use to. 

My suitor welcomes me into his family with open arms he has many sisters as well and they are so sweet and tell me such funny stories about my suitor when he was young. They all seem so close and it’s so natural for them. He reads to his little sisters and has tea parties with them. He even teaches his little brother to fence. His sisters dragged me to dress up almost immediately I was welcomed with open arms. I wasn’t the invisible twin anymore and I loved it. Now my family misses me and wants me back but I’m not sure anymore. 

I took a deep breath and accepted Anthony’s invitation to Pall Mall so we shall see how it goes.

I nervously run my hands down my dress trying to smooth it out and join my family on the field.

Eloise squeezes me “My other half you have left me dare I say way too long.”

I smile awkwardly as I feel my family's eyes on me “I swear you guys have never looked at me this long in your whole life. Did something happen?”

Anthony rubs his arms sheepishly “It has come to my attention that I have not been the most attentive brother to you, which is not right. As the man of the household, I should pay attention to you all equally.”

Eloise elbows him “Quit the formalities!”

“Do not listen to Anthony. Eloise actually helped us realize why you were avoiding us. I do not know how we did not see it. I am deeply sorry Y/N.” Benedict adds.

Daphne does a sad smile, “I am sorry I haven’t been there for you since my season. I will never do that to you again. Just promise you will visit us when you marry your amazing suitor.”

I smile back “Fine I will make that promise on one condition.”

“And what would that condition be,” Eloise asks curiously.

“You beat me in a game of tag!” I shout and tag Eloise.

Quickly everyone is running and Eloise is yelling I cheated. Suddenly I feel like we are all children again. Daphne is not married and living in a different house, Anthony isn’t worried about having to pretend to be our father, and Benedict isn’t worried about getting into art school. Even if this moment doesn’t last I will treasure it forever.

Support Me Here

#eloise x reader #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x you #eloise bridgerton x y/n #Bridgerton #Bridgertons #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x sister reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton!sister #bridgerton!sister x reader #bridgerton!sister x y/n #bridgerton!sister x you #francessa bridgerton

[spxllcxstxr]

Black Sheep • Bridgerton!Sibling

(Gif not mine)

Request: Maybe an angsty bridgerton sibling one where she's forgotten about a lot and they realise they don't even know her favourite colour or whatever, maybe they realise when playing a game and so she gets upset —anon

Summary: Your siblings finally take an interest in you

Warnings: fem!reader, kinda angsty??? Sibling stuff lmao

Word Count: 1.1k

A.N: uhhhh I’m hoping this is good lmao, fingers crossed, still shaky in writing Bridgerton I guess

•

The parlor was empty, besides you at the piano forte, and quite, besides the ticking of the grandfather clock on the other side of the room and the scratching of your pen on the parchment in front of you. Faintly, you hum out the tune of your new piano forte piece, something you’ve been composing for quite some time. It was a solemn piece, longing for a deep understanding and love from someone who cared. A reflection of yourself.

One would think that your love of the arts would bring you closer to your brother Benedict or maybe Eloise since she enjoyed hiding away from the insufferable balls and social gatherings you were forced to go to as “proper ladies.” But you weren’t. Benedict, Colin, and Eloise drifted towards each other like Anthony and Daphne. And while you loved your younger siblings, the bond the three of them had was something you couldn’t impose on. Though you were the twin of the diamond of the season herself, you two were polar opposites. 

All eyes were on her this season, though to be quite honest, all eyes were on Daphne since the day she was born.

“Sister dear, why on earth have you been at the piano for so long?” Benedict asks, strutting through the threshold, sketchbook in hand, before lounging in the couch on the other side of the room.

You glance up from your work, Benedict already engrossed in his drawing. His tongue resides in the corner of his pursed lips, brows furrowed in concentration as his hand run furiously across his paper.

Deciding he doesn’t actually care, you go back to scribbling notes and pressing certain keys. If it was bothering Benedict, he didn’t say anything.

Lost in both thought and the flow of the music, you don’t notice the rest of your siblings filtering into the room, no matter how loud Gregory and Hyacinth were.

“Do you not have anything better to do, (Y/n)?”

You pull your focus from your work and instead settle on your brothers, playing chess to pass the time. With one glance you can tell Anthony is winning, though Colin was never that hard to beat in the first place. He was too passive.

“Perhaps suitors to entertain…” Colin starts, eyebrows quirked in curiosity, though he knows no one has approached you in months despite your status.

“…or friends to write to…” Eloise snickers from behind her book. Benedict tries to hide his own laughter with a cough.

“And yet you are still sitting at that blasted piano forte,” Anthony scoffs, moving a pawn on the board in front of him.

“A proper lady must know how to play an instrument,” Daphne points out, sitting with perfect posture in her seat.

“That may be true, sister mine,” Anthony continues, “but (Y/n) has been there for far too long. A proper lady must do something else with her time,”

The ivory keys are smooth to the touch offering you comfort as your family turns their eyes to you. There has never been so many deep brown irises focused on you at once. Even your younger siblings pause their fighting to stare at you. Your corset suddenly feels more restricted than usual, the pins in your hair tugging harshly at your scalp, heels digging into your skin. The attention is unnerving.

“I am composing a piece,” You swallow nervously. “If you must know my every move,”

Benedict perks up at your admission, his artwork abandoned.

“You compose?” He asks, eyes lighting up. Artist recognizing another artist.

Your siblings gape in shock, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up.

“I—I have for years, Benedict, did you not know?”

Time passes, you squirm in your seat. The hardwood digs into your thighs and they ache.

“Of course you did not,” At the accusation, you stand up, gathering your materials, done with being in the parlor. “None of you know the first thing about me, never notice me unless it is necessary for your reputation or if mother tells you to,”

“(Y/n), that is not true—“ Daphne sweetens her tone as she stands from her seat. Her heels click against the floorboards, approaching you with her hand out.

“Oh be quiet, Daphne,” You scoff. “It makes perfect sense why you all do not care, I am not the diamond of the season nor am I the apple of someone’s eye,” This confession has your chest tightening and your face heating up, though you feel as if you can’t stop it.

The chess game is abandoned and your twin steps back.

“Francesca, Gregory, Hyacinth, go play outside,” Daphne tells the younger three, wide eyes never leaving your own.

“But—“

“Do as your sister says,” Anthony interrupts your younger brother.

The children hurry out of the room, though you know that they certainly didn’t go outside. They’re Bridgertons, meaning they’re snooping around trying to overhear the conversation.

“It does not matter that you are not the diamond,” Colin states, standing between the eldest Bridgerton brothers.

“Oh yes, all the attention was on Daphne way before that fateful day, was it not?” Your bottom lip trembles, everything tumbling out right then and there in front of everyone. The paper in your hand crinkles.

Anthony’s face is screwed up in confusion, as is Daphne’s.

“Is that truly how you feel, (Y/n)?” Daphne sounds broken-hearted, her lips pull down into a delicate frown.

“I am not just in your shadow, Daphne, I am in everyone’s,” Clutching your papers, you continue to vent to your siblings. “I do not need attention from everyone all the time, but I wish to not be forgotten by everyone, especially my own siblings.”

“I did not realize, (Y/n),” Eloise speaks up, daring to shuffle closer to you, eyes shining with tears in the afternoon sun coming in through the windows. “I genuinely apologize for not seeing this sooner; for not seeing you sooner,”

“It is okay—“

“It is not okay, (Y/n),” Anthony cuts in, stepping up behind his sister, a scowl twisted upon his face. It is not for you, however, it’s for himself. “We are your family and yet we have not acted like it as of late,”

You sniff, tears threatening to pour over. This was all you ever wanted. An apology, a promise to do better. A real spot in the family.

Colin runs a hand through his short hair and Daphne places a soft hand on top of yours. They agree that they will be better starting today.

“So this composition,” Benedict lightly starts, nodding to the wrinkled paper between your fingers. “What is it like?”

“We’ll it isn’t finished,” You smile at the interest, taking in the bright faces of your siblings. Comfort floods through your body, no longer do their stares fill you with uneasiness. “Though I believe it will have quite the happy resolution,”

•

#Bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton x sister reader #Bridgerton x sister!reader #Bridgerton x sibling reader #Bridgerton x sibling!reader #Anthony Bridgerton x reader #Benedict Bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton fic #Bridgerton angst #Bridgerton fluff

[fayes-fics]

Moments: Chapters 5-6

Moments Masterpost

PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Slow-burn fic. Follow on to No Good Advice probably best to read that first. Read previous chapters of this fic here. In these chapters, the reader meets Violet, Daphne, and another important lady. Benedict and James paint together.

Word Count: 2.9k (these chapters only, 7.8k total for all chapters to date)

Warnings: none really - pining, fluff. Ratings/warnings will increase in future chapters.

Authors note: I expect there to be at least another 2 chapters, likely more. Thanks as ever to @makaylan for her fantastic betaing and advice. Couldn't do this without you lady <3

Chapter 5: Moments from a card game

You’re not sure what you expected of Lady Danbury’s married ladies' night, but this isn’t it. She had sent word for you to attend; you had expected cake and tea, not cigars, liquor and gambling. Not that you’re complaining. In fact, it’s just the ladies' evening you needed. It makes you realise how much you have missed the company of other women.

Lady Danbury encourages mixing, so you all swap tables during the evening; on one of those carousel moments, you end up next to Violet Bridgerton and her daughter Daphne Bassett. You recognise them from the miniatures you recall on Benedict’s desk as much as events of the Ton, not that you would admit to such.

After the usual polite greetings and expressions of sympathy for your loss, what strikes you most is their genuine warmth. You realise how much Benedict’s disposition is a family trait. 

“I know your son from many years ago now,” you admit sheepishly at some point in the easy conversation.

“Oh, please don’t judge us on the Viscount,” Violet jokes, assuming it’s Anthony that you know.

“Actually, I meant Benedict,” you say quietly.

They both look genuinely surprised. Violet looks thoughtful.

“What was your name before marriage, did you say?” She enquires.

“Err, I didn’t. It was y/l/n” you reply intrigued by her line of questioning.

You could swear something akin to a lightbulb goes off behind Violet's eyes, but she says nothing. 

“You simply must come a few days early for our country visit,” Daphne insists. 

“Definitely!” Violet affirms, “We always like to invite a few select people a couple of days early to enjoy the peace and quiet before the Ton descends.”

“And your son can spend time with little Aubrey,” Daphne adds gleefully, “it would be so great for him to have someone close to his age to play with!”

“Well, if you insist,” you demure, your thoughts already moving to the obvious. Your heart leaps at the thought of Benedict among his family-you ache to see it.

“Will the whole family be there?” you inquire, attempting for casual.

“Oh yes, all eight of my children and their families gather. It’s a non-optional tradition,” Violet winks with a laugh.  

She has no idea how significant that phrasing is. She has another grandchild she has no idea about. And he’ll be accompanying you. Suddenly the thought of it somehow coming out gives you a spike of nausea. You have no idea if Benedict even wants you or James there. Perhaps accepting the invitation was the worst idea possible. Before you have a chance to amend your answer, the carousel goes on.

“Time to move tables, ladies!” Mrs Danburys announces with a raised glass, a raised eyebrow and a flick of her wrists.

You bid farewells to the Bridgerton ladies and reluctantly move tables. You find yourself sitting next to an elegant woman about your age. She looks familiar, but you can’t place why or where from.

“I’m, Miss Elliott,” she introduces herself with a friendly smile “let's enjoy frittering away some money, shall we, Mrs..?”

“Darby,” you grin. “But I suppose, well, it was, Mrs. Not sure now, to be honest. I’m now a widow.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Thanks, it's been a few months now. Wait, a Miss? I thought tonight was for married ladies only.”

“Lady Danbury makes exceptions for close family friends on occasion,” she winks conspiratorially. “Let’s play!”

After losing a round, then winning a round - and a few too many brandies - you figure it's probably a good time to stop gambling. 

“What was married life like for you, if you don't mind me asking?” Miss Elliott turns to you, her voice now a touch slurred.

“It was… good. I married a good man, a family friend, and he was a great father,” you answer politely.

“Did you love him?” her question so abrupt. 

“In a way, yes, he was my best friend. Why do you ask? Are you thinking of marrying yourself?” it's your turn to be inappropriately nosey, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions.

“Yes. But not for love. For convenience,” she adds.

“Why would you do that?” You are genuinely curious.

“His heart and mine both belong to others; it seems like a neat solution.” She is matter-of-fact in her summation.

“The love I share is outside the bounds of what is acceptable in society,” she says, her eyes meeting those of a beautiful young woman at another table, “but is no less real or passionate.”

You understand the pain she must feel. It must be awful not to be free to openly love who you want to love.

“I am so sorry that is the case; I can’t imagine. If you don’t mind me asking, who is this man you speak of? The one you have the arrangement to marry with?” You are tipsily just straight up fishing for knowledge of the Ton. You've missed being a part of a social circuit. It's a crude version of entertainment, but you are genuinely curious who would possibly be willing to marry in such circumstances?

“The second son of an illustrious family. He’s an artist.” 

Suddenly all you can hear is a rush of blood in your head.

“Are you speaking of Benedict Bridgerton?” You hedge, slightly breathless.

“The very one!” She exclaims as if relieved she didn’t have to reveal the name herself.

All you can hear echoing around and around in your head is her earlier line - his heart and mine belong to others. His heart belongs to another. Another. A dangerous sliver of hope in you cracks open a little.

“Did he ever tell you about the person to who his heart belongs?” You venture, attempting casual for the second time this evening, but your heart is in your throat. 

She shrugs. “Only that she was forced to marry her childhood friend many years ago. So he decided an arrangement where he faces no more scrutiny as to why he is still a bachelor preferable to finding a love match that would ultimately prove inferior.”

You grip the table hard—so many revelations in one sentence. You suddenly recall where you remember her from—The Danbury Ball; she was the woman on Benedict’s arm. 

“Are you already engaged?” you inquire.

“No, not yet. We have discussed it, but just the other evening, after the ball, he asked for a little more time to decide. Which is understandable; it's a big commitment.” 

She seems so practical and down-to-earth about the whole situation you can't help but admire her strength, even as your emotions spiral around you. Benedict is willing to enter a marriage of convenience selflessly to give this woman the freedom to be with her love and to ensure his heart is never with another. He was and likely still is in love with you. You suspected it, but neither of you ever had the strength to vocalise it - knowing it would not change your fate at the time. Now, if he still feels the same, you daren’t even think about what could be possible.

As soon as you get home, you send a note to him, emboldened by brandy. Please do visit and paint with James whenever you can. The urge to add I love you burns brightly in your chest, but you resist committing it to paper even in your intoxicated state.

Chapter 6: Moments from a garden

Benedict turns up the next day, barely as you’ve finished breakfast. It’s a lovely sunny London summer day already. 

“Y/n,” his voice is warm and makes your spine tingle. The fact you have already dropped formal names again makes you inordinately happy. The urge to walk up and embrace him in greeting is so strong you have to grip the chair arms to avoid moving.

The revelations from Lady Danbury’s card night ring strong in your ears - he is willing to sacrifice finding a true love match as he believes himself incapable of moving on. From you. And now he knows he’s a father to your son. You invite him to spend time together, and he turns up less than ten hours later. The ties that bind you are so much tighter than you ever could have imagined could have hoped. 

“Benedict!” James' face lights up, dropping his toy train. “Did you come to paint today?” He positively rocks back and forth with excitement at the idea.

“Yes, James, I have!” Benedict smiles indulgently. “Shall we set up in the garden? I think it’s a lovely day to paint some flowers.”

“Brilliant!”‘James peels with enthusiasm as Benedict nods to his valet carrying his easel and supplies, who moves ahead towards your garden.

James springs up from his toys and runs to Benedict, grabbing his hand on instinct, always so free with his affections.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them together, holding hands, almost a silhouette against the intense sun beaming in through the French doors. 

You watch as Benedict freezes, and a look of something so meaningful washes over his face. You see him swallow heavy like it’s challenging to do so. James has no clue about the significance of his simple action - grabbing his father’s hand for the first time.

Benedict’s gaze moves to you, and your heart clenches harder. His gaze is soft and questioning, silently asking if this is acceptable. You smile indulgently and nod; it is one thousand times more than okay. 

“Right, lead the way outside, James,” Benedict says, looking down with a smile.

James starts marching onwards but suddenly turns back, not letting go of Benedict’s hand. 

“Mama, are you not coming too?” He asks.

“Oh, it’s okay, love, you spend time with Benedict. He can teach you amazing things about art; I would just be in the way.”

“You would not be in the way,” Benedict replied far too quickly; James twists to look up at him. 

“Yes, Mama come with us” James looks back over to you, and he stretches his other hand towards you, waggling his fingers in a come hither motion.

So you close your book and walk over to them, letting James slip his free hand into yours. The reflection of you three in the door glass holding hands like a family stares back at you.  It’s something you did countless times with John without thought. This feels so significant your chest feels tight. 

You move your gaze from your joined hands, over your son, to Benedict. He is looking at you in a way that knocks you off your axis. If the eyes are the window to the soul, his soul is endless. You can’t look away. Butterfly under glass yet again. 

“Mama, why are you staring at Benedict?” James' voice cuts in, “you always told me it’s rude to stare.”

Never a truer word than from the mouth of babes.

You cast your eyes down, suitably called out by your son; you know your cheeks are aflame. Benedict chuckles.

“Don’t worry, James, she wasn’t being rude. I was just talking to your mummy silently in a way only she could hear.” Benedict assures him, squeezing his hand gently.

Your heart aches. Actually aches.

“Can we go paint now? James asks with a slight whine in his voice, reaching his limit of dealing with adults.

“Yes, my love,” you reply soothingly and hold on tight as his little legs move fast, dragging you along and out the door. James walks ahead, and your shoulder bumps Benedict’s as James pulls you behind him through the narrow doorway.

You chuckle as Benedict bumps your shoulder again, even though you’re now out on the expanse of the sunny patio. You daren't look up at his face, so you smile in profile while surveying your gardens.

“Where are you going to set up, my darling boys?” You ask, not realising you used the plural.

“Hmm, I think right over there would be perfect,” Benedict replies after a pause of looking at you, pointing to the shade under an old oak tree next to your rose garden. His valet goes to set up his easel as yours emerges from the house carrying James’s easel and follows suit. 

James lets go of your hands, running on ahead. You stroll next to Benedict, itching to take his hand instead. 

“Thank you for coming to spend time with him,” you say quietly.

“I meant what I said the other day,” he replies, almost solemnly.

Your knuckles brush as you walk in sync; it makes your breath hitch. Which frankly seems ridiculous, considering you’ve already spent hours entwined naked, albeit years ago. But somehow, this seems more significant. Your past always had an expiry date; this feels like something new, different, and more meaningful. 

“But still, thank you. It means a lot to James to have someone to paint with.”

“I will always make time for James; please know that. Regardless of where life takes any of us,” he vows.

“You’ve adjusted so well to such a huge revelation that well, James exists,” you whisper the last part.

“I suppose I’ve thought about it so much over the years; it didn’t seem that much of a shock, to be honest,” he says ponderously.

“That you already had a child?”

“That I might be a father someday,” he clarifies. “Yes, circumstances are not how I pictured it, but I’m very much looking forward to this adventure with James. And well you….” his smile is bashful but genuine. It warms you more than the sun does.

You spend the morning sitting under the cooling shade of the ancient oak, watching the boys paint. Benedict encouraging James’ creative choices, never telling him what to do, just giving guidance.

“How do I make that colour?” James asks at one point, pointing at a purple iris.

“So that is purple, James. Take a dab of that blue there,” Benedict leans over and points with the far end of his paintbrush, “and that red there. And mix them at the end of your palette like this,” Benedict demonstrates. 

James copies him, and his face breaks into a smile as the blob of paint turns purple.

“Look, Mama,” he exclaims, holding out his palette for your perusal, “I made a new colour!”

“Well done, love,” you praise, smiling at them both.

“What other colours can I make?” James asks Benedict excitedly.

“Let's paint the flower first; then we can make some others,” Benedict guides, already taking on a parental air. “I promise to show you all the colours, James,” he adds, the more profound meaning not lost on you.

“Your mother invited me early to Aubrey Hall,” you mention as you watch as James paints a beautiful child’s version of the iris. You already know you will frame this canvas; if nothing else, it will be a reminder of this already memorable day. “I accepted but then realised I should have checked with you first. I'm more than happy to pretend I have an alternate engagement that I had forgotten.” 

“Don't be ridiculous,” he chides without heat. “It will be wonderful to have you and James there early; you will get a chance to meet all of the family properly. They will be so excited to meet James.”

“You want to tell them? The truth?” you don't even attempt to mask the incredulity in your voice. 

“Of course I do,” he responds fiercely. “They will be delighted.”

“But the circumstances…,” you trail off. “Surely, there will be judgement. Maybe not of you, but me.”

“Do you honestly think my family doesn't know our whole story?” he responds with a raised eyebrow.

“N..no?” you equivocate.

“Well, they do,” he shrugs. “And believe me. This will be taken as nothing but good news. Besides, look at him. They will take a glance and know instantly, just as I did. James IS me; there are miniatures of me at his age, and you wouldn't be able to tell us apart.” He looks so proud; you almost want to roll your eyes.

“Then we will be there Thursday” you smile, and he nods happily.

“James,” he turns his attention back to your son. “Grab a new clean little brush. I could use your help. Great, now put some white paint on it.” You watch as James’ rapt attention pings between Benedict and the tasks he asks James to do. “Excellent! Now you see this corner here, please can you place a few white streaks? Right here.” Benedict gestures at the edge of a flower petal.

James dips under Benedict's arm and stands between his legs, a little tongue poking out as he holds out his paintbrush. “I don't want to hurt your nice picture,” he admits quietly.

Benedict leans in, his hand closing around James’ on the brush. “Don't worry, James, you could never do that. Anything you think is wrong is just a chance to try something new,” he assures gently, guiding James’ brush gently over the area. “There, you see? That adds a little glimmer to the petal, so it's shining in the sunshine. Well done. Look at your fantastic handiwork.” He praises and, without thought, leans in and kisses James' temple affectionately. If James is surprised by the action, it doesn't show on his face; he just accepts the gesture naturally with a smile, still looking at the painting proudly.

You subtly lean your head on your hand to wipe away a tear at the corner of your eye. 

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

[ijustwant2write]

A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic)-(Part 5/?)

(GIF credit to @inglourious-imagines​)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @myficplace-blog @yelenas-lova @rockbumlowlavxnder @s-unflowxr @appledressing @xceafh @seppys-return-to-madness @ellesmythe @too-many-fandoms-and-what-abt-it @nycbaby21 @teenagedirtbag087 @scorpiomindfuck​

Summary: As (Y/N) and Benedict’s relationship starts to develop, Lord Belby starts his plan to get the girl he wants.

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Bridgerton Family x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Forwardness (?), but mostly a LOT of fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Bridgerton's cheered as (Y/N) scored a strike as they bowled. She gratefully smiled at them, thankful that she wasn't making a fool of herself.

"Are you a sportswoman Miss (Y/N)?" Anthony asked in disbelief."We are only three turns in and that is your third strike!"

"My father used to play this all the time with me when I was a little girl. It's also his favourite game because he always wins. Or used to that is."

They laughed. Benedict's loving smile hadn't left his face since they linked arms. Although his family made him nervous, in case they said something outlandish, he loved that everyone was getting on. It was as if he and (Y/N) were already married.

Oh, marriage.

Of course the thought had crossed his mind. He wouldn't pursue the lady if he didn't see that kind of future together. But it still shocked him that the thought came to him so casually.

Anthony was next to bowl, he was desperate to also earn a strike. Not only because a lady was beating him, but he couldn't believe how poorly he was doing. Everyone watched in anticipation as the eldest took his turn, hitting nine pins, the last one wobbling teasingly. Holding his breath, Anthony groaned when it didn't fall over.

"Perhaps Lady (Y/N) should be giving you tips brother." Daphne giggled.

"Perhaps she should. Though I don't suppose you've ever played Pall-mall?"

"Only a couple of times. Why, is that your area of expertise?"

"Do not get him started." Benedict mumbled.

Anthony ignored him."I am a humble man, though I do seem to win every time."

"Because you threaten us otherwise." Daphne smirked.

"My siblings jest."

"Well, perhaps I should give this Pall-mall game another go, it would be delightful to beat you at your own game Viscount Bridgerton."

The siblings were all laughing under their breath. (Y/N) worried for a second that she had gone too far, until she saw Anthony smirking at her. It was easy to banter with the Bridgertons, she felt so comfortable with them.

"Where's Eloise?" Gregory asked, looking around.

"I thought she was sat over there, reading a book." Colin said.

"She didn't even have a book with her."

"That makes a change."

"Can she not do as she's told for one day?" Anthony sighed."I apologise for my sister, Lady (Y/N)."

"There's no need to apologise. I'm sure she's content wherever she is."

Eloise sat on a stone bench away from the party, scribbling in her small, conceivable notebook. Lady Whistledown was still out there, writing away just as she was. Whenever she thought she found something to get her closer to the answer, Eloise found herself ten steps back.

"You're fond of that notebook, aren't you?" Lord Belby startled her.

"Uh, pardon me my Lord, I-"

"Not used to talking to men I see?"

"Do you always converse by asking questions?"

He chuckled, taking a seat next to her. Eloise shuffled away, not being subtle about it.

"Eloise Bridgerton, it doesn't surprise me to see you out here alone."

"Have you been spying on me?"

"You're the talk of the ton, Eloise."

"Am I?"

"Of course. With a fiery personality such as yours, how could anyone ignore it?"

"I really must go Lord Belby, it is inappropriate that we are alone." she abruptly stood.

"I don't think you're one to play by the rules."

Eloise halted."I am not. But I also will not be the centre of idle gossip amongst this infuriating ton. Good day my lord."

She swiftly turned again, her pace quick as she tried to get away from Belby. They couldn't be seen together, it was one of the top rules in society. Eloise had already caused her mother enough stress, she wouldn't add this. Glancing back, she saw Lord Belby still sat, gazing at her with a cocky smile. Something about him made her writhe, he was uncomfortable to be around, you knew he was going to do or say something that you wouldn't like.

Belby kept a calm demeanour, cursing on the inside. He thought she would be a somewhat easier target. Not a lot of men went after her, Belby believed she would be swooned by him. Although frustrated, Belby held his composure as he thought of another plan. It was going to be more difficult than he thought.

Meanwhile, Lady Danbury was up to her matchmaking antics. Well, she had no need to make the match, that part was already done for her. However, she saw how the newest couple were antsy, they wished for more time together. Needing to abide by the laws of society, Lady Danbury took Violet and Lady (Y/L/N) aside, suggesting they chaperone the couple away from the guests. The mothers were on board straight away, smiling mischievously as they approached (Y/N) and Benedict.

"They definitely don't look as if they are up to something." Benedict whispered to (Y/N), following where he was looking.

"We better stay as a team then." she replied, her grip slightly tightening on his elbow.

"We were about to take a walk around my new extention of the garden. Care to join us?" Lady Danbury casually asked.

Benedict and (Y/N) knew that this was all part of some plan, but agreed anyway. To their surprise, they followed behind the women, thinking that they would want to spy on them. Neither of them complained, feeling relieved as the guests thinned out, walker slower on purpose as to distance themselves from the others.

"This is nice." (Y/N) cringed at her wording.

Benedict grinned down at her."It is. I hope this isn't too brash (Y/N), but I have been wishing for more time together everyday."

"That is nowhere near harsh Benedict, seeing as we were alone only the last time we saw each other."

"That is true. And I would take that risk again."

"Would you?"

"Yes. Would you not?"

"Oh, I would." (Y/N) was blushing.

Benedict could see she felt cheeky by saying the truth. He liked this side of her, it was fun, honest.

"I would enjoy your company in my home. Would you and your parents care to join us for dinner one evening?"

"Of course! Mother will be thrilled!"

"And your father?"

(Y/N) hesitated."He has been strange these last few days. I'm not sure what is wrong with him. But he does favour you Benedict, do not worry."

"And you are sure of this?"

"Yes! How could he not?"

"You charm me Lady (Y/N)."

"Good, my plan is working then."

Eloise decided against telling her family of the occurrence with Lord Belby. It would only cause disruption, especially from her brothers. No harm came of it and no one saw them. The sun was setting, signalling the end of Lady Danbury's event. Families began leaving, slowly trickling away, each thanking their hostess. The Bridgertons and (Y/L/N)'s made their way out of Lady Danbury' s home together, chatting away until they found themselves outside the home.

"Lord (Y/L/N), my family would love to extend an invitation for dinner at our home." Anthony asked.

"Oh marvelous!" he joyfully replied."Yes, we would gladly accept."

"I shall have the details sent to you. It has been a pleasure to speak with you again."

Formalities were shared as everyone said their goodbyes, heading to their carriages. Benedict made sure he and (Y/N) were the last to leave.

"I await your visit." he said.

"With much anticipation." (Y/N) replied.

If no one was looking, she could have kissed him there and then. Of course, she didn't actually have the confidence to do so, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. Benedict hesitantly left, keeping an eye on (Y/N) as she made her way to her carriage. He watched as she climbed in before getting in himself.

"You are truly smitten Benedict." Daphne teased as they set off.

In (Y/N)'s carriage, the tone was slightly different.

"Darling, where's Lord Belby?" (Y/N)'s mother asked.

"He will no longer reside with us."

"Why not?"

"He is not the respectable gentleman I thought him to be. I don't want him anywhere near our daughter either."

"I always had a suspicion about him, he was far too confident."

"The servants will start packing his belongings as soon as we step foot in our home. I am sorry I let a man like that near my girls."

"Oh darling," Lady (Y/L/N) put her hand on his,"do not apologise. You are doing the right thing now."

"We just need to look to the future now. We have a dinner to attend to in a few days, and we must be ready."

"You make it sound like a military operation." (Y/N) joked.

"And I have the best soldiers with me."

Violet was ecstatic to have the (Y/L/N)'s for dinner, things were moving swiftly. However, she was a nightmare for her children as she tried to quickly plan the evening. What food would they serve? What entertainment could they provide? Would her children behave as they should?

"Benedict, how could you not ask her what her favourite dessert is? You knew we were going to ask them for dinner." Violet stressed.

"It wasn't exactly the first question I thought to ask mother." Benedict defended himself.

"I'm sorry dear, I just want everything to go well."

They had been walking the halls of their house when he stopped her.

"It will. The (Y/L/N) are not a snobbish family, they are grateful and respectful. Even if (Y/N) hated something she would still be polite as to not hurt anyone's feelings. Please mama, just calm down."

Violet smiled."You really like this girl, don't you?"

Benedict nodded, cheeks tinting red slightly, but he wasn't embarrassed to talk about his feelings. It was still young love after all.

"I really like her too, Benedict."

"You definitely approve?"

"I have approved from day one. And I think Anthony has taken a liking to her too. He didn't stop talking about his defeat in bowls yesterday."

"That makes me very happy. I would never bring someone into the family who did not get along with everyone."

"She is going to be very lucky to have you Benedict. I'm so happy for you."

Violet pulled him in for a hug, wishing he was a little boy again so she could pick him up. Almost all of her children were grown, her boys were certainly men and much taller than her; she had to squeeze extra tight to ensure it felt like a proper hug.

"I shan't pester you any longer."

Benedict slowly loosened his grip."How about I help you finish the menu for the dinner?"

Violet grinned, holding onto his hand as they headed to the kitchen. It was all going to work out.

(Y/N) checked over herself in the mirror for the fifth time, checking she had all of her accessories and not a hair was out of place. She was questioning her outfit. Was it the right dress? It was beautiful, maybe too much? So many flaws screamed at her. She knew the only reason she was nervous was because it was a more intimate affair, both families stuck at the dinner table, having to make conversation that flowed for the evening. They couldn't rely on other families in case there was nothing to talk about. Oh God, would her and Benedict run out of things to say to each other?

"(Y/N), we must make haste." her mother cheerily called.

Sighing, (Y/N) hoped her worries would fade away. Everything was headed in the right direction, so why was she worrying? This is what she wanted. She didn't want anything to ruin it. What that could be, she didn't know. Dismissing her thoughts, (Y/N) hurried to meet her parents in the foyer, excitement rising as she thought about Benedict.

It had been so much more peaceful in the house since Belby had left. There was an air of tension he brought, but you didn't realise it until he left. All of his things were gone, he had left in such a huff, it was hard for (Y/N) not to laugh.

The Bridgerton House was beautiful. It suited them, it was obviously majestic yet humble. It helped that it wasn't garnished with hideous and outrageous decor like some homes. The Bridgertons waited in their own foyer, hearing the carriage pull up.

"Right, best behaviour everyone. This is a potential future Bridgerton." Violet instructed.

"Mama-" Benedict rolled his eyes, but straightened up as the door opened.

"Lord and Lady (Y/L/N) and Lady (Y/N)." the doorman announced.

Benedict almost lost his breath. (Y/N) was dazzling. Her dress was sparkling under the lights, the catching reflections hitting her skin, somehow her eyes were more captivating than usual. Even when her parents approached the family to greet them, his eyes never left (Y/N), mouth slightly open in awe.

Once everyone had exchanged their kind words, they headed to the dining room, Benedict and (Y/N) trailing behind, arms linked.

"Are you alright Benedict?" (Y/N) asked.

"You look stunning."

"Oh, Benedict-"

"Sorry, I do not mean to be forward. It is true though. I cannot fathom how you become more beautiful everytime I see you."

(Y/N) was quite flustered."You flatter me too much."

"It's not enough I'm afraid. You shall have to endure many more compliments from me."

"No one has ever been so sweet to me."

"And I intend to shower you with all the affection you deserve."

"I am sorry that I am no so talented at complimenting you."

"There is no need."

(Y/N) wished they hadn't made it to the dining room so quickly. Benedict directed her to her seat, pushing in her chair as she sat and taking his place beside her. He grimaced slightly when he saw Eloise on the other side to her, wishing it was Daphne instead. He knew they got along, but Eloise was getting more comfortable with (Y/N), meaning she could blurt out anything.

"Isn't this lovely?" Violet happily chirped.

"Thank you for welcoming us into your beautiful home Lady Bridgerton. We were most gracious to receive an invitation." Lord (Y/L/N) said."And it is wonderful to meet the rest of the Bridgerton's I have heard so much about."

"All good things I hope." Anthony (mostly) joked.

"Oh of course!" Lady (Y/L/N) smiled."Eloise, I hear that you are on the hunt for Lady Whistledown."

The table went silent. Eloise knew her mama would not want this to be the topic of conversation, especially since they had been here for all of five minutes. But she had also been told to entertain their guests, why not amuse them?

She had a smug smile as she spoke."Yes. I believe she is among us in the Ton."

"Really? Any ideas whom it could be?"

"Well, yes and no. I do not have the sufficient amount of evidence to pinpoint anyone in particular. Lady Whistledown is very smart, she knows how to cover her tracks."

"Or he is." Gregory teased.

"It is definitely a woman, a man could not write in the way that she does."

"Perhaps it is a man and a woman?" Benedict suggested. All heads turned to him, waiting for an explanation."Well, I mean, the papers sell well, she must be earning a lot of money. Perhaps a man thought of a business opportunity to sell gossip and no one suspects a woman in the first place. Also, it is much easier for women to overhear gossip."

Everyone thought about it for a moment. It was a good theory. Eloise scoffed.

"Although I admire the thought behind it, I still think it is one lone woman writing these articles."

"That's because you want it to be a woman."

"But in answer to your question, Lady (Y/L/N), I will still be conducting my investigations for a little longer."

"It's all very scandalous isn't it?"

(Y/N) quietly giggled at her mother. She got so excited over things not deemed proper in high society. The appetisers were soon brought out, ending the conversation much to Violet's relief. Everyone started their own conversations with one another as they ate.

"I am sorry about my mother, Eloise." (Y/N) said."She loves Lady Whistledown, like all mothers do. She was very excited when I was mentioned in the paper."

"I just don't think it's right. She's allowed to overhear gossip and spread it around the Ton, yet no repercussions come to her. Even the Queen can't do anything, this woman is impossible to find."

"You'll be able to figure it out. It might take a little longer than you like. You finally have a worthy opponent."

Eloise smiled.“Yes, it appears I have.”

“(Y/N),” Benedict stirred her away attention away from his sister,“um...”

Now he didn’t know what to say. He knew he wanted to talk to (Y/N), but he had panicked, thinking Eloise may say something regrettable. 

“Are you alright Benedict?”

“Yes, I...I was just going to ask how you were finding the food?”

“Oh, it’s lovely, thank you.”

“I hope my family aren’t too much.”

“Of course they aren’t. What gave you that silly idea?”

“I mean, sometimes we can be a little-”

“Benedict, you are by far the loveliest family I have ever met, and I am not trying to butter you up. I mean it. I;m very happy spending time with you and your family.”

What she really wanted to say was how lucky she would feel being a part of this family, but (Y/N) thought that might be too much. The pair shared a sweet smile, going back to their food until the doors opened.

“We’re not qiute ready for our mains yet.” Violet said to the butler.

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Violet turned in her seat at the unfamilar voice, frowning when she saw Lord Belby dwaggering into the room. He looked extremely smug.

“I just hate missing out on dinner parties.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton one shot #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fan fiction #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton fan fic

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (III.2)

II. That chicken

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Too many new classes to uncover 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, charms and curses, blood!, injure!, Buckbeak being a majestic menace, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 3,8 k

Notes: thank you all that read this series! sorry for the wait! I had illustrious visits with me, that require my whole attention

You felt somewhat at home when you entered the Great Hall, it was as beautiful as always, and seeing so many students there actually made you feel warmth, safe.

You sat amongst your best friends, already with your uniform on, and your ceremonial black pointy hats on

The sorting ceremony was becoming longer and duller every year, although it was fun to see the new Slytherins

Did you really look that small your first year? only two years ago?

Before the welcoming speech from Dumbledore , the corus stood there in front of everyone and you thanked you didn’t have to sing the school anthem anymore

Double, double, toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble;

Something wicked this way comes!

You all applauded as the chorus got down from the three steps separating you from the professor’s high table 

“You sounded great Daph!”, Pansy said with a wide smile as she sat right by her side 

“Thanks, it’s nice to be back, right?”, she asked excitedly 

You hadn't noticed, but now you were sitting with your roomates, even Tracy was sitting there, before she had kept her distance, you didn’t even know why

“How was your summer Tracey?”, you asked softly, she actually smiled at you

“Pretty calm, cool…”, it was vague, but she was so mysterious all the time. You felt some eyes on you, when you raised them you saw Draco looking back at you wide-eyed, in fear, he looked away, “did you guys take divination?”, you all nodded, and you were actually surprised

“Did you take “care of magical creatures”?”, you asked her

“Yes, did you?”

“Yeah”

“I didn't, merlin I don’t like animals”, muttered Daphne, “except for my lovie”, her Siamese cat familiar

Draco, by your side, nudged you and then he signaled to Potter. Rumor has spread that he fainted when he even saw the dementors, having to be saved by a professor

“Hey Potter!”, called Draco, “is it true that you fainted?”, he mocked, “YOU ACTUALLY FAINTED?”, Theo mocked him even further, pretending to faint. His annoyed face was worth it, you laughed loudly. 

You were going to keep talking, but Dumbledore took main stage

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!”, Dumbledore said, extending his arms, “I'd like to say a few words... before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast”. Another professor against the dark arts, you guessed

“First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin who's kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! Good luck, professor!”, he was going to need it, when you catched a glimpse of him, you were not impressed… he was a bit… underdressed… for the occasion and in comparison of his peers

“...Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs!”, you were looking forward to that class, “fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!”, the entire hall broke in applause. But then, the headmaster’s face turned serious, you knew what he was going to say before he said it, it was about the dementors, you had seen two more guarding the gates outside

“Finally, on a more disquieting note at the request of the Ministry of Magic Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the dementors of Azkaban until such a time as Sirius Black is captured”

“All of this just for Potter not to get killed by the lunatic”, whispered Draco

“The dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities… a word of caution[, he said severely, [Dementors are vicious creatures. They'll not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you... to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving”, that seemed like a good omen for a great school year, you thought bitterly 

“But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light!”, he said, playing with the light of the candles on his podium, “Now… let the feast begin!”

As always, food appeared in front of you, and the feast began.

You had missed this, the energy of the first week back was always electric, chat filled the hall, and the silver cutlery against the plates and the goblets when you placed them back on the table.

“How can he be the “chosen one” when he faints when he sees a dementor?”, mocked Draco to your ear

“Well, even though I think it’s pathetic this time I won’t hold it against him, have you seen those things?”, you asked, “they gave me the creeps”

“Don’t you worry Basilik, I’ll protect you”, said Theo, winking at you

“You can barely Wingardium Leviosa something and you are going to protect her against a Dementor?”, mocked Draco, and everyone laughed 

As you were abandoning the hall, Pansy grabbed your hand, which surprised you, dragging you to her side instead of Draco’s until you reached your common room

“I need to talk to you about something”, she said softly

“what?”, you asked, she looked giddy, her cheeks blushed

“Is there something going on between you and Draco?”, she asked, and you frowned

“We are very good friends”, you said quickly

“But you fancy him?”, she asked

“No I don't think so, why?”

“I do, I fancy him”, she said quickly, you opened your mouth, in surprise. “Do you mind if I… you know”

“What?”, you asked her

“I get close to him?”, you took long seconds to think about it, and you didn't know why, but the mere thought of being second to Draco because of another girl didn’t settle right in your belly, but at the same time, you did like Pansy

“I say go for it”, you said with a smile, “But please just… if it doesn’t go well… don’t…”

“You’ll be safe”, she said, “we will fight over your custody like my estranged parents”, she said with a laugh, and you snorted 

“I’d like that”. You laughed

The very next day after a great breakfast, mocking Potter some more with your Quidditch team, and your first class of History of Magic, you were ready for your first class of Care of Magical creatures

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you were excited about your first lesson, specially because was Hagrid teaching it, he knew his animals and you knew it was going to be a more hands-on class then any other, so you were truly excited

Which passed pretty quickly when you realized you were going to be in the company of the Gryffindors, everywhere where Potter was tended to become all about him and it was getting old pretty quickly.

Hagrid gathered you in front of his hut, introduced the class, and then encouraged you to follow him quickly. To a paddock amongst trees, on the edge of the forbidden forest.

“Alright, gather around everybody”, he said, he looked excited, “I have a great lesson for you today, but first… open your books…”

“How are we supposed to do that?”, asked Draco meanly, he, in contrary to you, did not find this amusing at all 

You grabbed your book, which the book clerk cried for you to obtain, and released him from the binding spell. 

“Stroke the spine of course!”, he said excitedly, you tickled him, and the book seemed to purr, and then it opened itself

“Cool!”, you admired 

“I thought they were funny!”, said Granger defensively, as Hagrid turned to look for something, something for the lesson maybe

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty! Merlin, this place is going to the dogs," said Draco. "That oaf teaching classes”

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Potter, it was funny to see him all riled up 

“Uuuhhh!”, mocked Draco, turning to look at you with complicity, he then walked up to face him, chest puffed like he used to, but then, he looked up and behind Potter, a scared look on his face.

“Dementor! Dementor!”, not only potter but all his friends turned in horror, you all put on your hoods of your cape and when Potter turned you scared him some more

It was hilarious

But Hagrid had come back and he wasn’t alone!

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, a Gryffindor girl. You all turned to see Hagrid walking towards you, holding the chains to twelve Hippogriffs

You had seen them in illustrations and paintings, but never in real life, they were the most stunning animals you had ever seen!

It was an eagle-horse hybrid, having the front legs, wings and head of an eagle, and the back legs of a horse. They had gray-colored cruel looking beaks, and big threatening golden eyes. They were wearing leather collars, attached to the chains Hagrid was holding.

Each of the hippogriffs had various colors, gray, brown, black, bluish, even a beautifully coated bronze one and an even rose gold looking one, they were all beautiful, stunning.

But looking at his front quarters, dangerous looking claws, you all took a step back, as Hagrid wanted to encouraged you to go near 

“Hagrid? what are those?”, asked Granger 

"Hippogriffs!" he presented happily, "Beautiful, aren' they?", they were stunning, majestic creatures 

“The first thing you gotta know is that Hippogriffs are very proud creatures”, he said, getting confident in his new role as a professor, “you do NOT want to insult an Hippogriff, it could be the last thing you ever do”, he said cheerly, the creatures looked at your huge group in a not very friendly way.

“Alright! Who wants to come and say hello?”, you raised your hand quickly and excitedly, but Draco grabbed it before Hagrid could see it, and dragged you a step back with him, leaving Harry standing there as the only one who was offering, without knowing so. “Well done, Harry. Well done!”, Hagrid seemed really relieved, as he seems to think Potter has volunteered, “Come on now!”, he encouraged, you had to give him points, Harry crossed the wooden fence and entered the Paddock. 

“Now... you have to let him make the first move. It's only polite. So... step up. Give him a nice bow”, he commanded, and Potter did as instructed, “Then you wait and see if he bows back…

If he does, you can go and touch him…If not... Well, we'll get to that later”, you shared amused looks with Draco, this was going to be too fun if it went poorly 

Potter bowed and surprisingly the creature bowed back 

“Well done, Harry. Well done”, hagrid encouraged you to clap, which you did not, but other did, “Right, I think you can go and pat him now”, he said, you could actually see Potter trembling, but eventually, the Hippogriff did let him pet him, “That's it...Yes! Well done! Well done, Harry, well done!”, he said happily, well, this was his first lesson, it it was cool so far, so… 

“Does he get to fly?”, someone asked, and you wanted to ask the same question 

“I think he may let you ride him now!”, said Hagrid

“What?”

Hagrid grabbed potter who was squirming, and placed him on top of the hippogriff, Buckbeak, you believed his name was, took flight, gave a few laps around the paddock, and then landed gracefully 

"Good work, Harry!", and of course all of his house cheered, except for your group, "Okay, who else wants a’ go?"

Well, if un-lucky Potter could do it, why couldn’t you? you shared looks with Pansy and approached the beautiful black creature, you were always drawn to black animals, you didn’t know why.

You followed his instructions, and bowed profusely, he was incredibly gorgeous, but you did not wanted to be attacked by those nasty lookings front sharp claws

It looked at you curiously, but then decided to bow to you, once it did, you approached him slowly, avoiding eye contact, and raising your hand to it, remembering all you knew about horses, quickly enough, it approached you, feeling the his breath on your palm, you finally met him in the eyes and he let you pet him on the beak

“Great job Basilik!”, said Hagrid quickly and he walk by you to the other Gryffindor students 

Pansy repeated your movements and Tracy did too, you three started interacting with the beautiful animal, and it seemed he liked you, as he had a relaxed demeanor and seemed to appreciate the caresses

You felt watched, so you turned and watched back as Draco, Theo, Crabbe and Goyle looked at you surprised.

You didn’t know it then, but Draco was a bit angry you were “playing along” with Hagrid’s class, and emboldened by the attitude you and the girls were having with the Hippogriff, he decided to approach Buckbeak in a less than ceremonial manner. He took glasses at you, but you were too distracted to watch him back

He did bow, and Buckbeak, curiously, bowed back 

 If you were playing along he wanted to surprise you somehow

“You are not dangerous at all, are you?”, he mocked Buckbeak, “you great ugly brute!”, he said mockingly, still patting his beak

Buckbeak did not took that lightly 

It was a second, the Hippogriff raised his two nasty claws and attacked him

It was bad, he screamed bloody murder, you watched back, recognizing his scream, and you saw him on the floor twisting and turning, trying to grab his own arm, were thick spots of blood were flourishing on the fabric

“I'm dying!”, he screamed, you wanted to get close to him, help him but Buckbeak was still close, menacingly, "It's killed me!", cried Draco, the gash on his arm looked horrible, it was bleeding profusely 

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had entered a panicked state, "you are going to be fine!”, he said quickly

“Hagrid! you need to take him to the hospital wing!”, said Granger quickly, Hagrid grabbed Draco, who was whining and turning, there was a spot of blood left on the floor, and you felt a knot on your throat when you heard Draco’s screams 

“Class dismissed!” Hagrid called when he started walking away

“You are gonna’ regret this! you and your bloody chicken!”, called Draco 

Soon your friends surrounded you, all concerned about Draco, you didn’t know what to do! but the class had been dismissed, so you ran after Hagrid closely, leaving your friends discussing about the measures they would take against Hagrid and “the chicken”

They wouldn’t let you in the infirmary while Madame Pomfrey was curing him, and they were taking too long, you had to get to your next class.

Snape showed up quickly after

“To class Basilik”, he commanded swiftly

“But Draco…!”

“I’m sure Mister Malfoy can fend for himself for just a couple of hours”, he said, looking down at you, he frowned a bit when he saw the raw, pure concern on your face, “go along, I will not say it again, the first divination class is always… tricky”

You only nodded, hoping Draco would not be angry at you for leaving him in the hospital wing alone

You had heard that the Divination class was… different, but nothing would prepare you to being led by a knight through the paintings on the castle, to the small room in one of the tower, and then had to climb up a portable stair to the upper floor of the tower, to find Professor Trelawney

She was… very original

You were skeptical about this class, but Arimatcy was a nogo, and less of it muggle studies, you wanted to take ancient runes but Draco insisted, saying he wants to have all classes with you

So here you were, no Draco, but Matthew was quick to take his place on your other side on the small round table.

As she was talking to you, introducing the class and what was in store for you for the semester, you thought how it was going to be hard to take this professor seriously

You couldn’t deny that they actually were people who could see the future, that had certain… sensibilities, but then to assume all of you could do it, was a big jump

You wondered if it was too late to change to ancient runes when Professor Trelawney asked the lot of you to serve yourself tea and then drink it

Matthew seemed as skeptical as you, but since you kinda know of him and his “commitment” to his classes, this was going to be a long one, specially since he had to read your cup of tea and you had to read his

Professor Trelawney seemed skittish in your class, claiming she saw darkness everywhere, as you looked around to your friends, your Slytherin friends, and some Hufflepuffs, you didn’t believe she was talking about them.

She was referring to the lot of you

Again, you were skeptical but very, very curious, as you tried to read Matthew’s leaves, following the icons written in your book

You felt his gaze on you, as you looked back at him, he seemed more interested in you that in your cup

“Are you going to read mine or not?”, you asked him, and he only smiled

“yes, yes”, he said dismissively, and then turned to your cup

You were seeing, -according to our book-, very ugly things but you were trying hard to re-interpret many of them 

You saw something that looked like a bird on the bottom of the cup, but also a very strange looking cross, or at least, you thought it was a cross on one of the sides…

The thing that caught your eye was something that looked like a tongue

You had to admit that there were actually drawn symbols on the inside of the cup.

“Let me see dear…”, professor Trelawney said, reaching your table

“I see this… thing”, said Matthew, “I think it means gold, unexpected gold coming her way, and then, that looks like a circle”, he said, not helpful at all 

“Give me the cup”, she said shakily, Matthew handed her the cup, his eyes on you, and you looked at her, really curious about what she had to say

“A Waxing, recent moon, going to a first quarter”, she whispered, looking intently inside your tea cup

“What?”, you both asked, frowning

“You will find what you are looking for, girl”, she said, looking at you through her glasses, that made her eyes look round and comical, “you, like the moon, are new, you will come complete…”, she said, with a smile, “but I see, the path to a full moon is not free of trails, judgment and pain”, she continued.

The entire room was quiet, listening to her rambles

“You shall discover the part that part of you that was before missing”, she said, nodding, you looked back at her skeptically, she seemed in some sort of a trance, “beware of your foes, but beware of your friends as well”, ah great, “and be careful of the last step of the stairs”, she theme released the cup as it burned her and kept going. She took Matthew’s cup out of your hands, looked inside, and let out a shriek that made you jump

She looked back at him in horror, and had you frowning

“riddles, riddles”, she said shakily, now she looked like she was afraid of him or something 

You were definitely talking to Snape to change classes after this. 

You walked back at the common room, hearing Tracy talk about how much she had enjoyed the class, and how she had found her “calling”, after your own prediction you had missed professor Trelawney praising her and calling her a true “Seer”

You got distracted when you saw Draco, sitting in the common room, his arm on a sling, and a twisted look on his face. You were so excited you miscounted the steps, thinking that you had climbed down all of them, you missed the last one

A sense of vertigo flooded you, for a fraction of a second you thought you were going to fall but then your feet collided with the floor one step down, making you trip

You didn’t fell, but the ugly sensation stuck with you

And be careful of the last step of the stairs

Nah, it had to be a coincidence, wasn’t it?

Draco was waiting for you, now surrounded by your friends, Pansy was all over him, and you only got to join the group, instead of talking to him directly.

They talked about Hagrid, how he was an “Oaf”, Draco boasted of how he had told his father, that he was furious, that he was going to talk to the rest of the governors, that he was coming to the school as soon as he was able.

That he was in incredible pain, that shot of what felt like lightning came up and down his arm when he tried to move it, he whined a lot

The gash, when you saw it, looked very nasty, now it was all covered

You had seen Madame Pomfrey do literal magic to cure students, you didn’t doubt Draco was going to make a full recovery, but still, he was enjoying the attention, specially of the ones who weren’t there, that were receiving a very colorful description of the facts.

It was hours, already night, when all your friends went to the great hall to eat, and you managed to get alone time with your very best friend

“Are you alright?”, you asked, worried, as you moved a silvery lock out of his eyes

“I’m good”, he confessed

“So you were faking, you had Pansy all over you”, you teased, nudging him, he blushed scandalously.

“How was the first divination class?”, he asked

“Awful, can’t believe you made me take that ridiculous class”, you said, mocking him. 

You decided not to tell him what Professor Trelawney had said, instead focusing on him, on pampering him, you made sure to go down to the great hall and pick up food for him, and then take it downstairs to him, as he did not want to go to the great hall.

He had said the trauma his body experimented had left him very tired, his muscles tense, and you believed him

It was an eventful first day, wasn’t it? that, as the other omens, make you believe this was going to be a very… interesting… school year, to say the least

#misguidedlifeaters #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson

[cometcrystal]

dott’s offical velma thoughts

watched eps 1 and 2. i only wanna talk about stuff i haven’t seen hashed out a million times. because im tired

heres what i LIKED:

like i said, the designs are sooo good. i LOVE the designs

the childhood pics of velma and daph were sooo cute

velma’s mom is sweet :) i like her from what we’ve seen. i doubt she left i bet shes part of the mystery

velma dealing with hallucinations/trauma and fred dealing with his dad making him feel inferior masculine-wise could be really cool plotlines if they were in a better adult scooby adaption

the guy whose leg gets cut off was a funny gag. thats the kinda gory joke i wanna see in an adult scooby adaption

“500 DOLLARS?? THATS LIKE A MILLION DOLLARS”

the drugs being named after their catchphrases is funny

velma and daphne’s romance so far is really cute and probably the best part of the show. yeah i know velma tried to kill her in episode 1 i really dont care at this point

daphne’s writing has its issues but shes still the best member of the gang in this one

the mystery is interesting and i wanna see how it plays out. im interested to see that aspect of it

heres what i DID NOT LIKE:

“fred’s creepy sex van” die mindy kaling

the meta 4th wall breaking shit. all of it. at this point im SO sick of this trope just let it die and make something genuine and beautiful for once

daphne’s lesbian cop moms. why do the lesbians always have to be COPS!!!!!!!!!

daphne’s cop moms pulling GUNS ON VELMA

fred’s voice is Not Good. velma and daphne’s voices sound good at least but i dont like fred’s voice acting. i think glenn howerton could be a great voice actor for another character but it just doesn’t sound like fred to me

velma’s dad being verbally abusive to her and velma being mean to her stepmom. what an unhealthy family

shaggy calling velma a bitch. literally evil

SWEET BUT PSYCHO IS IN THIS FUCKING SHOW DIE DIE DIE

all the other factors that people have talked about ad nauseum. the metoo joke. the h*tler joke. the jokes about fred’s genitalia. so on and so forth.

emphasizing that shaggy isn’t a stoner doesn’t really hit. either make him smoke weed, or don’t bother bringing it up. you can’t have it both ways

this could have been an original property and NOTHING would change. they really did just make this a scooby doo IP to make as many people angry as possible. i 100% believe that.

it’s just not funny. even if everything offensive was removed, it just wouldn’t be that funny of a show.

MISC THOUGHT: i dont really give a shit that scooby isn’t in this show. other members of the gang have been absent before and it’s been fine. he’ll be okay

anyway. im not viscerally angry rn. it had a few things i liked and am probably going to cling to but overall it was shit. i think waiting for a bit to watch it softened the blow. if i had went in completely blind, i would be seething at this moment. but i already did my seething

#scooby doo #scooby meta #velma hbo #hbo velma

[abridgertonfantasy]

[SUMMARY: Anthony Bridgerton is attracted to Daphnes friend Selene whom he has promised to help find a suitor for. Never acknowledging his attraction to her until one day he physically is unable to hide his desire for her and does not know how to handle it.]

"..that's when you noticed the bulge growing in his pants."

Anthony and Selene CHAPTER ONE

Sexual arousal

As usual, Anthony Bridgerton did not think any man was good enough for you. Being Daphnes bestfriend since you were little, you grew close with the entire Bridgerton family. Well, now it came time to find a husband, and there was many who lined up for you happily. Yet, Anthony seemed to have a problem with each man that you came across. Ten years ago your father had died, you had no male figure in your life and so your best friends older brother promised to play this part for you. Never did you expect him to be so stubborn in finding you your perfect suitor.

“My Lord, we can’t go on with this forever.” You sighed as he closed the door behind yet another man.

“Oh yes, if it means finding you the man you deserve we very well can.” He responded as you looked over at Daphne.

“Anthony, Lord Smith was a great option, he’s very well known in all the best ways-“

“He’s just not for her,” he responded dryly. Daphne looked at her brother strangely, not expecting him to have been so guarded of you to this extent. Anthony looked at you as you looked down in disappointment, his eyes softening up towards you.

“I just believe you deserve the very best, nothing short of it,” you looked up at him and softly smiled before he left the room.

Later on that evening you, Daphne and Violet went into town to do some dress shopping. Expressing your frustration with Anthony not being satisfied with any man that showed interest towards you made his mother frown looking at you.

“Lord Smith was rather interesting,” Violet raised a brow wondering why her son would not like him. Daphne quickly whispered to you and suggest finding a dress for the ball tonight that would be a bit more…revealing in a way. Looking at her confused, she bought you a peach like gown with a corset design that would emphasize on your breasts.

“I don’t know…this is more than what I’ve ever worn,”

“That’s the point,” Daphne whispered with a smile.

“All eyes will be on you even more than they already are!”

The idea excited you, many potential suitors would be present at the ball tonight, you knew you definitely would find someone there.

Later on that evening you went on with a maid to try on the dress for a fitting. Daphne waited in the parlor reading a book, excited for you to come down and show your new dress just as Anthony walked in.

“Brother! Wait until you see the magnificent dress I chose for Selene!” She snapped her book shut and stood up excitedly.

“This dress will have all the men of the ton just melting over her,”

“And what is that suppose to mean?” He turned to her with a raised brow. A flicker of jealousy running through him at the thought of mens eyes all over you. Anthony had been around you for many years yet it wasn’t until recently that he started to become attracted to you. He found you fascinating, interesting, and most definitely beautiful. This was something he struggled to admit to himself, feeling you were off limits as you were his younger sisters bestfriend.

“Oh you know, more options to come her way.” Daphne smiled with excitement.

“She attracts enough just on her own without any extra tricks, don’t you think?”

Daphne laughed at his response.

“Oh Anthony, you never fail to amuse me. Please let Selene know I’ll see her in the evening I completely forgot I had to help mama with a few things. She’ll be down soon with the new gown.”

Looking at yourself in the mirror you wore the peach colored gown that made your skin glow, your dark locks tied up into a braided bun, you felt beautiful. Although the dress was a bit more revealing than you imagined it to be. Already being a woman with bigger than average sized breasts, the dress only accentuated them more.

Making your way down the stairs to the parlor excited to show Daphne how the dress looked on you, you walked in surprised to see Anthony. His back to you he took a sip of his tea until he heard you and carefully placed the cup down.

"Where's Daphne? I thought she would see the dress first."

"Yes, she had to attend to help our mother with some duties at the moment-" he turned and just as he did he froze at the sight of you. His mouth practically dropped, his eyes uncontrollably landing on your cleavage.

"My Lord?" You raised a brow until you noticed just where his eyes were before he quickly looked up. Your cheeks turning a light shade of red as he stepped closer looking into your eyes.

"Is this the dress you will be wearing for the ball this evening?" He spoke softly as if he was still trying to process what was before his eyes.

"I-um yes, why is-" losing track of what you were saying you noticed his eyes once again falling to your cleavage, your waist, it was as if he lost complete control. Never had you seen him look at you this way. Noticing his breathing grow heavy, his eyes filled with lust, that's when you noticed the bulge growing in his pants.

"My Lord," you gasped in a whisper calling his attention to what you noticed making him quickly turn away.

"Leave, now!" He practically yelled as you turned and ran out of the room. Hunched over leaning on the table before him, he caught his breath. Never was he suppose to show you what you did to him, he felt like a fool. It took everything in him to ask you to leave knowing exactly what he wanted to do to you in that moment. Slamming his hand on the table he cursed at himself for losing control in front of you. What would you think of him now?

Running to your room you closed the door out of breath. No one around noticed a thing thankfully. Yet, you were still in shock with what you had just seen. Having enough girl friends, you knew exactly what you were looking at. The sight of you made Anthony Bridgerton aroused. Standing in shock, you did not know exactly how to react. All you knew was that later that evening you would be seeing him at the ball with that very same dress, how were you suppose to act after this? What would he say or do the next time he saw you?

[Sorry for the short chapter, wanted to see how this would play out! Hope you all enjoy it!]

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fan fic #bridgerton season 2 #bridgerton fanfic #Anthony bridgerton x oc #Anthony Bridgerton x off #Anthony Bridgerton fan fiction #anthony bridgerton x reader #johnathan bailey

[nanowrimo]

“My World is Going to be a Beacon for Joy and Happiness”: Interview with Daphne Ashling Purpus

NaNoWriMo is inviting our community members to become monthly donors and help nourish our creative community! This week, long-time NaNo writer and monthly donor Daphne Ashling Purpus shares her story of creativity and community care across all the areas of her magical, colorful life. Tell us about your first NaNoWriMo. What drew you to tell your story with us?

I first heard about NaNoWriMo on a blog I was following in 2011, and while I’d never written creatively before then, I really needed a new challenge. The feeling of writing my first novel was euphoric beyond belief. To think that I’m nearly ready to publish my 14th novel and already started on my 15th (15,697 words so far this Camp session) just boggles my mind!!! I really don’t have words for what this means to me personally.

How have you participated since then?

I have won NaNoWriMo every year for 11 years and counting. According to the NaNoWriMo website, I’ve now written 1,217,353 words in all sessions. I have done both Camp and NaNoWriMo events every year since April of 2012 (some of those records got lost when the site got upgraded, but I’ve never missed a Camp session). So that makes 11 NaNoWriMos and 21 Camps, for a whopping total of 32 events! I can’t believe it!

You've told me that you write your novels with a purpose in mind. Can you tell us more about the purpose of your writing and why you self-publish?

I write fantasy because I like it, and so do many of my students (I’m a volunteer tutor for students at our alternative high school). I’m LGBTQIA+, as are many of my students, so I try to write novels showing the importance of diversity, the importance of kindness and community, and the importance of all life.

I self-publish because I want total control over my stories and because, at least in the beginning, I was too inexperienced to be chosen by the traditional publishers. But after all the work I put into my stories, I wanted to see them in print for both me and my students.

You're one of the most colorful people I know—literally! What draws you to bright colors and the use of bold colors in your house (and on your cat walks)?

I'm a flaming queer, and I also can only see bright colors. I think there’s way too much beige/neutral in our world, but my world is going to be a beacon for joy and happiness, I hope. My home and my own pink hair make people smile, and that’s a very good thing.

You're a writing tutor in addition to writing. Why do you tutor kids, and what have you learned from them?

Actually, I don’t tutor writing, I’m a volunteer tutor in math—all levels from 4th grade through pre-calc. I have over the years discovered that there are many ways to learn. Many of my students have been told they are stupid and can’t do math. I work with them to discover how they learn and to prove to them that they certainly aren’t stupid.

Why do you give to NaNoWriMo?

NaNoWriMo has given so much to me, showing me that there are millions of people all around the world also telling their stories. I need NaNoWriMo, probably more than it needs me, but I give to help ensure that it will continue always. NaNoWriMo helps more stories survive, especially in these troubling times.

One of the things that's important to NaNoWriMo is how stories connect people—how a sense of belonging is built through our stories. How do you feel that writing or reading stories has given you a sense of belonging?

Just knowing that I’m not alone in my quest to tell my stories gives me a sense of connection with others.

Top row depicts Stella and Wilson. Bottom row depicts Ghost and Emmett.

You’re a lover of animals, I know. What role have your pets played in your writing?

Oh, yes, my pets through the years have definitely helped me (and also walked on keyboards, etc). And when I’ve lost a pet, I have honored them by naming a character in my next book after them. Since I write series, those pets get mentioned in many books.

Check out Daphne’s books here! As encouragement to all her fellow Wrimos, Daphne has pledged a one-time USD $5,000 matching gift for all monthly and one-time donations made during the month of April. To date, we have more than 600 Wrimos providing year-round care through their monthly gifts. Join your fellow Wrimos and start a monthly donation today!

#writing #interview #nanowrimo #monthly donor #by nano guest #Daphne Ashling Purpus #nanowrimo experience

[a-song-for-ages]

Lady Heart-Tender | (Aemon Targaryen)

alternatively called; Lady Tender Heart, or World in Idyll

|

Summary:

In which, Aurelia Tyrell would very much rather continue to live in the bubble that is Highgarden and watch the world fall in love around her… than seek out love and a future for herself. 

|

One

|

|

"The King is coming!"

Aurelia was laying beneath the canopy that the servants put up to shield her from the bright summer sun - the green grass tickled her, but was strangely cool against her flushed skin. 

Aurelia didn't understand a word of what her mother had been saying, for she had been absentmindedly singing along with the bard who was playing one of her most favourite songs - a love-tale of Rhaenys and Aegon, oh how it made her heart turn. 

"Yes?" She asked, propping herself up by her forearms, relishing in the strangely pleasing way the grass hurt her skin. She stared at her flushed mother in curiosity, her head tilted.

"The King - and the Queen," her mother said, gasping as she placed a hand over her chest, waving the letter in the other hand in front of her face, no doubt to cool herself down.

"Are they to have another child?" Aurelia asked innocently, secretly wondering how the Targaryen siblings still found each other attractive enough to get it on. She thought of herself and her brothers - and while the many sons of Lord Thames and Lady Daphne Tyrell were handsome beyond measure... Aurelia simply found them revolting.

"No! Even better!" Her Lady mother said, before she came beneath the shade of the canopy and leaned herself against the extra chair set aside for the bard's feet. It wasn't in use, but Aurelia found that she quite liked sitting with her legs on another stool as she brainstormed and wrote her poetry, so she assumed the bard must have liked the same while exercising his art.

"Twins? A boy and a girl?" She asked. "They'll marry them to each other, no doubt."

Lady Daphne threw her only daughter a look that told her to hold her tongue while she caught her breath.

"Oh, I am getting old," she sighed, slouching herself on the chair, before she sat upright, and said, "But that isn't the matter - you are well aware that we are to host your Uncle Laurent's wedding festivities, hmm?" 

Aurelia nodded, sitting up enthusiastically.

Her Uncle Laurent was her father's only brother - and he was far younger than her father, but not so young to spend his free time with her or her older brothers, but old enough to be well past the marrying age… if there was such a thing for a man. He was in his mid-thirties, but thanks to the Tyrell looks, he seemed to be in his late twenties, and was quite handsome for his age, appearing more as an older brother to his nephew Calix (for he was said to be a clone of him), than an Uncle. 

She was excited though, not only because his marriage meant a call for celebrations… but because his marriage was only possible because of her. 

She was the one who introduced his betrothed, the Lady Ellin Casswell, to him on plenty occasions - not to forget, mentioning Ellin Casswell to him all the while feeding him his most favourite sweets when he was away from any work her father had given him…

And, it greatly helped that the Lady Ellin was the older sister of her good friend, Lady Lora Casswell, who wished for her sister to marry, so that prospective husband's could be sought for her - 

The Lady Ellin was far older than most maidens were when they married - she'd already reached her twentieth nameday, and was without any worthy suitors. 

The Casswell's, who had only two daughters, and one baby boy, were quite protective of their daughters, and refused to marry them to anyone below their worth.

But Lady Lora complained that not only was her father stubborn - but so was her sister Ellin, who cared not for the frivolities of court or festivities (unlike Lora and Aurelia and any other maiden in the land of marriageable age.)

The Lady Ellin was a simple woman - she enjoyed her books and her reading and her studies of botany and the various plants that could be used in healing. 

Lora told Aurelia she thought her sister would have done well as a Silent Sister, but… the Lady Ellin had never worked a day in her life, and had no intention of doing such. 

So, knowing much of the Lady and her Uncle - who was not interested in listening to the gossips of women (she did not understand how, though, because it was her favourite form of entertainment!) - the Lady Aurelia set herself to work… and after a long year, her Uncle Lord approached his father on the topic of lands in his possession and name, and with regards to inheritance - all of which shocked her father, who joked that he had the feeling his brother wished to steal his wealth - which he clearly did not, for the Tyrell brothers, while there was many years present between them, were close as a tight knot.

So Lord Laurent Tyrell told his brother of his secret courtship with the Lady Ellin - and her Lord father was the happiest he'd been in months, for his brother was finally becoming a man, and would settle down and be able to experience the joys of being a father - soon, probably. Aurelia didn't know the specifics, nor did she care for it, because everyone - the Tyrells and Casswells - were pleased and thought the couple a fine match. 

And of course they were a fine match - if they were not, Aurelia would not have bothered wasting her time on meddling with them, and they would have surely never found their way to each other, were it not for that meddling of hers.

All in all, Aurelia was pleased - more than pleased with herself, and it seemed, from the look on her mother's face, that there was more good news to grace their house.

"The King Jaehaerys," she breathed in, "and the Good Queen Alysanne, are to pay a visit to Highgarden," she had to stop herself from squeeling, not managing to prevent herself from crumpling the paper in her hands, "and to stay for the week of the wedding festivals!"

Aurelia's eyes widened.

"Oh," was all she said, not entirely sure how to react to the news that the King and Queen of the Realm were to come - no doubt with their dragons - to Highgarden, where they'd be staying under the same roof. 

Aurelia felt slightly worried, but she could not feel that way for long, because her mother said -

"And their sons are to be in attendance, and part-take in the Tourneys!"

"Oh," Aurelia repeated, eyes widening a fraction as she leaned towards her mother.

"They've only two sons of age, am I correct?"

"Yes, well, no, there is the younger son Vaegon - but he isn't of importance right now."

"But he's a prince," Aurelia pointed, a brow slightly raised as she leaned back on one arm.

"Who is of more importance, is the oldest son - Aemon, the crown prince."

"Hmm," Aurelia nodded, thinking of the Prince. She didn't know much of him - no specifics, just that he was incredibly handsome, and tall, and skilled in the sword… but that was akin to all the knights she knew of in her family - except her brother. Aurel was short, or, he was the shortest man-boy in their family. Standing beside her friend Lora, who was truly short for a girl, he towered over her. (So Aurel was of normal height, not tall, and not short either… and Aurelia? Well, she was only two inches shorter than him - a thing he never let her forget, even though she was born a day before him.)

What she also knew of the Prince, was that he rode a great red beast, whose name she did not know. She so badly wished to know it, but, she did not wish to obsess over dragons once more - as Aurel did when he was a child. He'd come to her room in the hour of the wolf, and prod her awake so as to tell her facts he'd surmised and theorized regarding the Dragons of Valyria - along with the disappearance of many dragons of Westeros, ones that were present before the coming of the Targaryens. 

A reminder of her twin in their shared youth only made Aurelia realise one thing - if it was true that the King and Queen were to visit for her Uncle Laurent's wedding… then that would mean there would be a possibility of their dragons accompanying them, and as exciting as that was, Aurelia could not help but dread the renewal of her brother's interest (and perhaps, even obsession) over dragons. 

"We have much to do, Aurelia, much to prepare… You, mostly, my dear," her mother said, standing up from her seat and approaching her daughter.

"You must be on your utmost perfect behaviour," that brought a funny look to Aurelia's face. Her behaviour was anything but perfect. "For we've not mere Lords and Ladies to impress, my love, but the Royal family to leave a lasting impression on."

That brought Aurelia to widen her eyes, her mother's plans setting in clearly in her mind, "But mother -"

"And most importantly, the Crown Prince," she said, tapping her daughter's chin and smiling, before she let out a happy laugh and said, "I should think you'll be in need of more dresses. Perhaps more mature ones -"

"But I've already an entire closet prepared for Uncle Laur's wedding week!" Aurelia said, getting up and dusting her dress down so as to remove any wrinkles, all the while she walked after her mother.

"The Prince has been of age and in want of a wife for quite some time now -"

" - mother!"

"I believe he's about Tommard's age - but, no, that would not be right. Twenty one? Would that be twenty one? Is Tommard to be twenty one this year?" She asked around, voice shrill, bringing a servant or two stopping in their tracks so as to look at her and see what help she needed of them. But they could not help, for they did not know much regarding the prodigal son that was Tommard Tyrell, who spent most of his adulthood venturing off to different lands, gaining different experiences and insights on the other people halfway across the world (see: Essos).

"Yes, he is -"

"Oh my son, I should write him. Someone remind me to write to my son!"

Lady Daphne then went on walking, talking aloud to herself while Aurelia trailed after her, calling, "Mama! Mama! Mama, could you wait for a minute, please!"

"Yes, my little sunflower?" Her mother faced her with a happy smile on her face.

"The Prince - you mean - I don't understand. Why could you possibly wish for me to marry the Prince?"

Lady Daphne laughed shortly, sarcastically, perhaps, as she said, "Why, I thought you were smarter than I, my love - the Prince, is the Prince. That is reason enough to want to marry him!"

"But Mama," Aurelia whined, holding onto her mother's sleeve to stop her from running off, "you and Papa said you wanted me here - at home, with you."

"Not forever, my dear. We wish for you to marry, and marry well -"

"But to someone in the Reach, better yet, Highgarden!" She reminded her mother, raising her brow as if that could jog her memory. "Not to someone so far away as King's Landing!"

"My love," Lady Daphne said, placing a hand on her daughters cheek, before brushing away a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Your father and I know that joining the Royal Family is a thing we simply cannot pass up on -"

"So it is not settled then?" Aurelia asked. "I am not betrothed?"

"No, no," her mother said, rubbing her daughter's arms in a means of comforting her. "Not yet, at least. If all goes well, then you shall be a Princess of the Realm -"

Aurelia opened her mouth but could not find herself arguing with the title. It was a grand one - Princess of the Realm. It tasted rich, like how gold and silver was worth.

"But - I do not wish to move so far from you, from my family, from home."

"My love," Lady Daphne sighed. "Your father and I," she struggled. "It seems we've sheltered you far too much. You're well past sixteen -"

"But I don't look it," Aurelia pointed out. "Papa says my cheeks make me look like a new born babe!" And for emphasis, Aurelia pinched and pulled her own cheeks.

"My love… you will not look as young as you are forever. Time will go on, and you will grow, no doubt more beautiful than you are, but there will come a time when that beauty will fade."

Aurelia sighed. She knew that - which was precisely why she favoured the brain over brawn. Alas, it did not mean that Aurelia liked the taste of the truth that dripped from her mother's words.

"And when it comes to time - it is of essence, of value. Not many Lords will appreciate waiting around for the only daughter of the Reach."

Aurelia stood straight as she looked to her mother and said, "If a man is in want of a thing then he shall exercise whatever means necessary to attain it - and patience, Mama, is one of those means!"

Lady Daphne sighed and looked at her daughter, only caressing her hair as she said, "Perhaps I shall leave it to your father. After all, the both of you tend to be stubborn on the same things." 

Lady Daphne simply bade her duaghter goodbye and turned to leave, while Aurelia looked on at her mother's retreating back and asked with a smile on her face, "Does that mean I've nothing to worry about?"

Lady Daphne laughed. "You've nothing - but I've everything to worry of!"

And Aurelia smiled, deciding to go back to the garden, where she laid back down and stared at the parapet… unable to find peace, even in the soothing tunes the bard played for her.

Aurelia had always wanted to marry, and have many, many children, but -

She never wished for it to happen so soon… let alone have a Prince of the Realm be a prospective spouse of hers.

This entire thing was too stressful for the laid-back Aurelia, who only wished to sing, and dance, and write poetry, and live her life in the gardens of her parents' estate… never did she wish to leave, and never were her parents keen on parting from her… 

Until her mother made mention of the Crown Prince Aemon.

|

Aurelia will never stop being a mood. Some may like her, some may not, but honestly, I'm just writing this as a feel-good fic or whatever.

If there's any mistakes then oop ignore itttt.

Also, Calix is played by Douglas Booth and I have Tom Sturridge in mind for my man's Laurent - love this dude. (Because he's meant to be portrayed by Tom Sturridge - no other reasons loll.)

#oc: aurelia tyrell #aemon targaryen #wip: world in idyll #world in idyll #lady tender-heart #wip: lady tender-heart

[bcowulf]

Introducing Beowulf of the Jolly Rogers. Interrogator, opportunity killer. Recently blind due to a very unfortunate house fire. Also known as Daphne Lourenço, local bisexual disaster.

full name: daphne lourenço also known as: beowulf date of birth: 16th september, 1995 place of birth: são paulo, brazil

gender: cis woman pronouns: she/her sexual orientation: bisexual & greyromantic relationship status: taken

occupation: interrogator for the jolly rogers education level: eng. lit. college dropout financial status: poor

spoken languages: english, portuguese, spanish, italian nationality: english & brazilian

STATS.

faceclaim: camila queiroz height: 178 cm body & build: slim, athletic piercings & tattoos: ears pierced in multiple locations, no tattoos

vices: drinking, skin picking sociability: not social, not not social either. you’ll see her around, but be a bit surprised if she talks to you other than to tell you to fuck off. she’s charming at best, terrifying at her worst. soft & mushy with the ones she loves. standoffish, but fun once you know her. kinda like a cat.

positive traits: intense, determined, devoted, quick-witted negative traits: arrogant, volatile, violent, unpredictable

please note that daphne is entirely blind.

PATHÉTIQUE –– TCHAIKOVSKY

              your blood as the tie that binds you to your kin, your cracked lips that spit out the words that cleave flesh into the shapes you envision. you, the horseman who bridles armies, fells kings, ties humankind in the taut string of control. only you see their desire to be split open, invaded, mangled and made anew. one-from-many, your hands are smeared with the blood of your people, whom you have carefully crafted into a creature that will do as you say. and love you back.

I. ADAGIO - ALLEGRO NON TROPPO

a toothake never fails to remind you of home, the roots underneath your gums slowly rotting, the pain spreading throughout your jaw. the ache, your body slowly forced to dapt, until the tooth is pulled, and what is left is a gaping hole in between white molars which your tongue catches in when you’re distracted. that hole is your home, where your memories all hide. painful if you press hard enough, always there to remind you of what should’ve been. you run your tongue against the row of teeth, and can almost imagine it still being there, but the feeling is foreign. always will be, when you expect memories to be there where there are none. but not in the way it felt foreign when you were a child loosing your milk teeth. this feeling is coated in a feeling of permanence you experience nowhere else. 

II.  ALLEGRO CON GRAZIA

the paint dries eventually. the rotten walls and floorboards give way to ruin. your childhood morphs into a troubled adolescence, and the fact that you make it out the other end is nothing other than pure luck. you travel the wrong paths, cross the wrong lines, fight the wrong people. for a long time, nobody has your back. but it doesn’t matter, because you can handle yourself. until you can’t.

resentment fills every cavity in your mouth, coats your tongue in a bitter taste. why can they have all the things i can’t? you think, and decide to finally take what is yours. delusions of grandeur run in your family, you would know, if you had ever met your parents. in truth, you have done nothing to deserve what others have, and taking it selfishly has consequences. 

III. ALLEGRO MOLTO VIVACE

blood debts are not easily repaid, you learn. but indeptedness brings structure which helps you flourish. while your fate affords you no arrogance, little princess, you play pretend in your castles of dirt. you can become anyone you want, as long as you try hard enough. all your life you’ve lived in unforgiving conditions: this is nothing new to you. but did you remember how easy it is to lose your grip on reality? no? how sad.

little beowulf they call you, and hand you a knife. do our bidding, they tell you, and you obey. your debts are quickly paid, but it’s already too late. you’re nothing without them. nothing without your knife. 

IV. ADAGIO LAMENTOSO

how a beast like you learns to love is a mystery, one you are not keen to figure out. but love has unwanted consequences. it usurps your life, grabs you by the neck, twists until you can no longer breathe. it holds onto you, hangs over you like a thick velvet drape: comforting and suffocating at the same time.

you’ve never been in control. and you aren’t now.  

             now, you are nothing to be afraid of; you have torn yourself in half. strange— almost unearthly, your skin pale white and blossoming in rash. your neck outstretched, you beg for god to deliver her final blow, and for her to relieve you of all your suffering. you were fifteen for twenty years, and twenty-seven for none of them. everyday you reconstruct yourself, slice yourself from your neck to your groin, hoping that you can extract yourself from your own body, and become the monster you want to be.

TLDR for those too tired to decipher purple prose bullshit: daphne was born in são paulo, but remembers little to nothing of her childhood. her father died like many, in a robbery gone wrong. her mother took her and her big brother and fled to england, where the two kids were eventually abandoned and ended up in the system. things never really got better before daphne joined the jolly rogers after killing one of their own in a street fight. she owed a debt and had to repay it with work or her life, it was an easy choice.

this led to her finally finding her place in this world, and for a long time everything went smoothly. until love happened, and it completely took her by surprise. she wasn’t the loving type, but suddenly she was running away from the only family she ever knew (mainly javier) to start a new life with lilli. but, as god or whoever the fuck would have it, things went to shit real quick and a year later daphne’s back in london after losing her eyesight in a fire. she’s insecure and lashing out, struggling to figure out her place after her new disability.

also: she used to have a fucking god complex (still does) but her ego took a severe hit lol. anyway enjoy your local psychopath bisexual trying to tragically navigate their work/life balance while figuring out a healthy relationship with themselves. ripppppp

i’ll write something better at some point i promise.

#abt.

[idk-1224]

What Will It Take? (Part 1)

Anthony Bridgerton x (F) Reader Words: 1384

Summary: Anthony was head over heels for Siena Russo. So when she called things off with him, he was heart broken. He spends months in despair. Until he meets Lady y/n. Lady y/n is stubborn, intelligent, gorgeous, and kind. She’s perfect. But it takes a while for Anthony to realize how perfect she is.

TW: Siena Russo slander. I don’t like putting girls against girls or anything like that but for the sake of this, I am. Cuss words. PINNING. Dumbasses being Dumbasses. The Sheffields like don’t exist. Lol. This will be a multiple part kind of thing, so the triggers don't apply to all of them.

Despair

Heartbreak

Weakness

Whatever it was Anthony Bridgerton was feeling was not something he liked

Siena Russo

The opera singer

The love that could never be

It was because of her that he felt this way

He hated it

He despised it

But he felt it

And there was no undoing it

No making it better



Or so he thought



Lady Y/n

Daughter of the Duke of Alastair

3 older brothers

Lambert

Leonard

Mathis

All very protective

She Loved to read write and adventure

Very good friends with Daphne and Eloise



Miss y/n was to debut the same year as Eloise

And how very excited she was

Two of her older brothers Lambert and Mathis were already happily married and have children

And that is all y/n has ever wanted

She didn’t want a marriage without love

And unlike many other young lady’s, she didn’t have to

She was free

Well as free as a young lady could be in her time



-Y/n and Eloise’s Debut-



“Make hast dear sister.” Says Leonard

“Lambert will kill me if we are late.”



“I’m coming!”

Leonard leaned against the wall outside his sister's door and waited until the said door opened to reveal the breathtaking sight of his younger sister.

“Ready.”

“Dear sister, you look breathtaking.”

“You think so? Oh I do hope the queen thinks the same.”

“Come now the carriage is ready.”

The pair walked through the halls of the place they grew up in. Yet it was different now. Mathis and Lambert were now gone. And y/n was about to be pushed into the eager arms of the ton. Neither were prepared for what was to come.

They boarded their carriage and were off.

.

.

When they arrived Lambert and Mathis were already there.

Lambert being the oldest would mentor his young sister through the trying time of the social season.

Their mother, Lady Emma had passed away early in Y/n’s life.

So in respect of her dear friend Lady Danbury offered to sponsor the young debutante.

“Lady Danbury” she greeted the woman.

“Lady Y/n. How lovely it is to see you.”

The young girl smiled and looked ahead.

That’s when she saw him.

Anthony Bridgerton

Oh how long she had been pinning for the man. Ever since she was a child she dreamed of being with him.

-flashback-

Young Y/n Darling at the young age of 10 was sitting in her bedroom located at Aubrey Hall. She traveled with the Bridgertons every year.

She was working on her embroidery when suddenly interrupted.

“Y/n!”

“Yes Daphne?”

“Oh you must come listen to the song I just learned on the piano forte.”

“Ok then”

The two girls made their way through the halls of Aubrey Hall.

Before they could reach their destination Eloise found the two.

“Oh Y/n, I was just searching for you, do you think you could help me pick out a new book to read? You always have such good opinions when it comes to them.” The young Eloise asked.

“Oh Eloise I would love too, but Daphne has asked me to listen to her piano forte.”

“Oh but she only ever plays the same song over and over again.”

“No I do not!”

“You do too! And y/n is my friend! Not yours!”

“Oh but I am both of your fri-.”

“She is my friend too!”

“She is only friends with you beca-“

“Eloise, Daphne! Enough! Give the poor girl some room.” Interrupted Anthony Bridgerton.

“To resolve this conflict, I shall ask miss y/n if she will accompany me for a stroll, while you two reconcile.”

Y/n just stood there wide eyed and mouth gaped.

“Shall we my lady?”

“W-We shall.”

The two walked arm in arm although the young miss certainly was a lot smaller in size then the viscount.

“How are you Miss Darling?”

Anthony asked once they entered the garden

“Just fine my Lord. And you?”

“Likewise. And please call me Anthony, we have known each other since we were young.”

“Well then I believe you shall call me Y/n”

He simply smiled and the two carried on with their stroll.

“You are too kind to my siblings, every now and then you must learn to speak for yourself, to say yes and no when you actually mean it.”

“But then-“

“Ah ah no buts, at least try, I assure you it will solve future conflicts such as this one.”

“Then I shall try.”

“Good. Shall we get you back then? Perhaps they have resolved their conflict?”

“No, I wish to stay out here a bit longer.”

He chuckled, “Very well then. I told you it will work.”

That was when he gave you your voice, you realized then the power you had saying yes and no when you actually meant it.

It was then that you started to feel something for the viscount, but you didn’t quite know what it was then.

-end of flashback-

Oh the scandal…

She knew it was wrong, but he was just so kind and caring.

And oh how he was handsome.

She often found herself having to force herself to look away from him.

Such predicament is what she found herself in at the moment.

She was pulled from her trance when her dear friend Eloise called her name.

“Y/n! Oh how dreadful it is, isn't it?” She said referring to her outfit

“Oh Eloise, you look beautiful. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh but I do!”

“Eloise. You will be just fine. How about I appeal before you. Then you can have a little extra time to prepare yourself.”

“Yes, yes that’s perfect. Thank you y/n.”

“Of course.”

.

.

“Introducing! Miss Y/n Darling. Presented by the Great Dame Lady Danbury!”

Y/n gracefully made her entrance. 

So focused on not making a fool of herself she didn’t notice the intense gaze of many male spectators.

Including a certain Mr. Anthony Bridgerton



She had made her way to the queen and dropped into a perfect curtsy.

“Beautiful.”

“You my dear are the epitome of grace.”

.

.

“Can you believe it, Eloise! She called me the ‘Epitome of Grace’.” She squealed

“Yes. I can believe it. Because you are.”

“Oh I am so sorry Eloise you must feel horrible for how your debut went. That Lady Whistledown, always making things worse.”

“No no, I am actually quite grateful for it.”

“You would be.”

The two girls bursted into a fit of laughter.

“Just imagine all the suitors you will get tomorrow. Are you thrilled?”

“Yes, but you don’t think I will get many suitors do you? Yes, perhaps a few but it’s not like the whole ton will be banging down my door.”

“You would be surprised. I reckon you’ll get at least thirty suitors.”

“Thirty Suitors!?”



“Who will be getting Thirty Suitors?”

Asked a voice Y/n knew all too well.

“Y/n. Don’t you think brother? At least thirty if not more.”

Y/n turned to the man. And immediately regretted it.

There he stood, clad in the same attire from before, but he looked more relaxed, more at home.

“Ah, well of course, being this year's diamond will attract all the suitors of the ton, but there are only about thirty suitable suitors, but even they are questionable.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so, my lady.”

They stood in a short silence gazing at each other intently.

“Y/n didn’t you say you had to meet up with your father later?” Interrupted Eloise who was oblivious to the intense staring contest.

“Oh my, yes I was to meet up with him for afternoon tea, I must make haste I will be late.” She said while gathering her things.

“Will you come around again Miss Darling?”

“Perhaps, Eloise and I plan to buy some more ribbons tomorrow so I will be with her all day.”

“Yes, well it was a pleasure.” Anthony said while he exited the room.

“I am sorry about him, he’s been moping around for some time now.”

“Whatever for?” It wasn’t her business and she knew that, but she had to know.

“I’m not quite sure, he’s very closed off, always has been.”

“Hmmm”

.

.

.

That is the end of part one, there will be more soon, if you wish to be tagged let me know. 🤍🤍😁😁

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction

[weirdmorefics]

Hey. Could I request something where it’s a bridgerton x reader silbing who really likes hanging out with someone Benedict has feelings for and she finds out (bridgerton silbing ) tries to set Benedict up with her

A/N-Sorry it took so long I was visiting family and was away from my laptop :(

Warning- None

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 567

Summary- Benedict has a crush on Y/N’s favorite tutor and she is determined to set them up.

Little Matchmaker

My favorite tutor is coming today! Sophie is the greatest she brings the best-baked goods that she makes herself. She is helping me with my piano skills. I bet she will make me even better than Daphne!

I run down the stairs and Mother shouts at me to be careful. I rush to the door to see Benedict has already answered the door. 

“Hello, Sophie it is lovely to see you,” he says picking up her hand and kissing it.

I swear I see a faint blush on Sophie's face as she says “As charming as ever  Bridgerton.”

I think she is trying to play it cool but she does not need to because she already is so cool!

Sophie peered around Benedict and smiled when she saw me. “Are you ready for your lesson Y/N?”

I nod and follow Sophie to the piano but not before turning around and giving Benedict a wink leaving him very confused.

I have no idea how they do not realize their feelings! Sophie brings her homemade baked goods every lesson but somehow always brings too much and by too much I mean just enough leftovers for Benedict. Benedict manages to always be waiting at the entrance when it's time for my lesson. He even finds so many ways to interrupt my lesson just to see Sophie. Do not even get me started on the constant tension between them that results in never-ending bickering.

I have decided today is the day I will get them together because I do not know how much longer I can handle them beating around the bush.

I have been plotting this plan for weeks so it better work! I continued my lesson like normal all the way up until the end when I politely excused myself to use the powder room. Then I secretly head to the kitchen, grab a broom, then hide it next to the room I was having my lessons in. I try to walk up the stairs as quietly as possible then bust into Benedict's room interrupting his drawing.

“Y/N what is it are you alright?” He asks concerned quickly standing up.

“I'm fine it is Sophie you should be worried about! She has fainted!” I rush out.

Benedict's jaw drops and he quickly rushes out of the room “Where is she!”

“She is in the lesson room,” I say chasing after him.

Once he is in the room he sees a fine Sophie. He turns around very angrily and I quickly slam the door. I pick up the broom I stashed away as fast as I could and jammed it in between the door handle and wall, successfully trapping Sophie and Benedict in the same room all alone.

I can hear Benedict banging against the door “Y/N BRIDGERTON OPEN THIS DOOR INSTANTLY!” He shouts.

“Not until you two work out your feelings,” I say in a sing-songy voice.

“Y/N if you do not open this door right now there will be consequences to pay.” I can practically feel Benedict’s glare through the door. 

“Well if you two do not confront your feelings there will also be consequences to pay and by that I mean you will be stuck in that room for a very long time.” I smile.

I hear Benedict slide down the door and sigh “I am sorry about this Sophie my sister is rather meddlesome.” 

“It is quite alright I do find myself highly enjoying her antics,” Sophie says happily.

“Well, I wish she would at least let me court you without it seeming forced,” he mumbles out.

“You want to court me? I thought your sister just really liked me and wanted us to marry, but you had no interest.” She says sadly.

“Why would you ever think that!” Benedict says upset.

“I mean we are constantly arguing,” Sophie sighs.

“It is bickering that is what couples do,” He exclaims.

“So you think we are a couple,” I can hear the smile just by the way her voice sounds.

Benedict stutters over his words “I-I did not mean it like that! I will court you p-properly first!”

Once I hear that I take the broom out between the handle and the wall. Then I widely open the doors and smile.

“You two lovebirds finally did it!”

Sophie smiles “Thank you Y/N.”

“Thank you Y/N but I am going to make you pay for looking us in a room and lying to me” Benedict yells chasing after me.

I quickly run away but can not hold back a wild laugh.

Support Me Here

#benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton request #bridgerton!sister #bridgerton!sister x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fandom #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton family #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton sister #bridgerton siblings #bridgertons #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #fluff

[charmixpower]

Roxy and Bloom hc's about them visiting eachother (not a ship, just like older sister/younger sister relationship)

You mean like Bloom visiting Roxy while she's at Alfea and Roxy visiting Bloom while she's...saving the magical dimension???

Hmmm

I don't think Bloom would visit Roxy all that often, only because she is a celebrity and very obviously connecting herself to Roxy would lead to Roxy dealing with unwanted attention. Well more unwanted attention on top of the actual last earth fairy thing

They do call and text a lot. Roxy has all of the Winx phone numbers and usually ends up texting them to her her with her homework 😭

As soon as Roxy goes on break however Bloom (and Flora, and Musa, and—) go to see her in person. Many hugs (for the group's baby). Roxy is always super excited to see Bloom (and the Winx) on earth and usually ends up showing off everything she's learned while Bloom and Sky clap excitedly for her

(Bloom likes to jokingly refer to Roxy as her baby, and Sky is always like "barely two years out of highschool and I already have kids", there is some play fighting between Bloom and Sky here)

Bloom feels bad that she's unable to be there during Roxy's first year the way that Roxy has been there for her but she's really fucking busy unfortunately. On top of saving the world, she's also knee deep in politics bc of Domino and Eraklyon

Roxy both understands and wishes that Bloom was around more often. Roxy keeps a close eye on the TV to see what Bloom is currently doing

Roxy usually visits Bloom when she sees something in the group chat or on Tv she thinks she can help with and just...popping up on Bloom

Bloom finally understands how Flora and Daphne must feel (have felt) 24/7 when around Miele and her lol

Oh one hand, Roxy is very helpful in certain situations (namely, not fights). On the other hands FIGHTS COULD HAPPEN AND SHE COULD GET HURT

The other time Roxy visits Bloom is when Bloom has an event™ going on. Like....Bloom is 20, Domino is restored. She needs to have a princess ball to introduce her into high society, as Stella gleefully reminds her. Roxy shows up to give Bloom moral support, and to make faces at the dresses. Not like Musa wasn't already doing that, but Roxy joining her is always appreciated

#winx club #winx bloom #winx roxy #asks #winx headcanons #rus chatters #weird ass siblings from earth. what crimes will they commit