#I realized that it had much more of a regency feel to it than the other option | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blossom-hwa · 2 months ago

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a very fine line, indeed [7] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: attempted assault, abuse, cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 11.2k notes: — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — assault/abuse scenes are not graphic, but please heed the warnings and let me know if any of it is romanticized or just written in poor taste--I assure you I did not mean it, and I will fix anything needed. — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true. Part 6 >> Part 7 >> Part 8

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Beomgyu doesn’t know how he got home. One moment he’s flying out of the ballroom, the next he’s bursting into his room, his entire body trembling. He doesn’t know what time it is. He doesn’t know when he left. He doesn’t even know why he left.

Why did he leave?

Short images burst through his memory. Lord Cho’s smirk. Your hand in his. The music of the waltz, your body pressed to his, warmth filling his chest with your body so close to his—so much so that he couldn’t help but look at your lips, perfect and kissable in the bright candlelight of the room. He remembers that initial jealousy at Lord Cho melting into something else as you spun in and out of his arms, something so light and heavy all at once, so warm and soft and expanding through his heart that as you curtsied and he bowed and he looked at you again, for a moment—

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was in love.

For one blissful, beautiful moment, he basked in that thought, that feeling. He saw you, your hand still connected to his as you came up from your curtsy, and it looked like you were shining. Sparkling. Glowing with some sort of ethereal light, your eyes brighter than the chandeliers, your smile incredibly warm, like someone’s arms wrapped around him.

And then he panicked.

Because—Beomgyu doesn’t know love. He doesn’t know if he’s in love with you. And hell, if he is, he doesn’t know if you love him back. And in that moment, as all of these thoughts began racing through his skull one after another nonstop, he couldn’t think. He could barely breathe beyond the knowledge that he just danced a waltz with you without asking if you had permission in front of the entire ton, and he might be in love with you.

He ran, then. Fled, leaving you behind. And now he’s back at home, alone in his room as the hours slowly tick away, and he may not know if he loves you or if you love him but he does know that there is going to be a scandal and it will be all his fault. All of it. The next issue of Whistledown comes out in a day and Beomgyu just knows there will be a paragraph or more ascribed to this ball. She won’t mock you, not directly. That is not Lady Whistledown’s way. She will ask questions instead. Why you danced the waltz that night when you have never done so in three seasons and counting. Why he was the one you decided to dance with. Speculations over just how committed a suitor he is to have asked you to waltz, then abandoned you on the dance floor afterward—

Speculations on just how you wooed his attentions so, and on his apparent luckiness at having realized your possible seduction before it was too late for him.

Beomgyu feels nauseous just thinking about it. Because for all the veracity of many of her stories, that narrative is completely wrong. You never seduced him—obviously. You are not the kind of person to do that and never have been—he would never have accused you of such a thing even when he hated you. You never seduced him. You never even encouraged his attentions, really, beyond the stipulations you made as part of the deal. Of course after you were friends, perhaps your relationship was more genuine, but even after the kiss…

You never mentioned it again, even when he could tell very well that you were thinking of it.

No, it’s all his fault. He asked you to waltz without realizing the next dance was so scandalous. He continued to dance with you even when the music made it clear what he was doing. He kept you close, let you trust him as the dance began, but when he realized…when he realized he might really love you…

He disappeared. As good as left you at the altar, or worse.

It’s almost laughable, how stupid he was. The only bit of luck he can salvage from this is that it was incredibly lucky you had permission from the hostess to participate in the dance, just as you said, or your reputation would have fallen even further than it is now, but what does it matter when this scandal will surely be all society talks of for the next months, or maybe even years? He still left you to deal with the aftermath of this scandal alone. And what for? Because he loved you?

The thought draws him up short. He loved you. Loves you.

He loves you—

It’s the same thought that sent him running off into the crowd. The idea that he might really care for you so deeply, to crave your presence so much, enough to dance a waltz with you without being a real suitor—even now he can feel his heart rate spiking at the mere idea of it. But running away the first time got him nowhere.

God, his heart is beating way too quickly right now.

Beomgyu heaves a shaky breath and forces himself to think, to try and sort through the facts. He doesn’t know if he loves you. But there are some things he does know. Like that he enjoys your presence. That he likes talking to you, bickering and bantering and verbal sparring. He appreciates your wit and intelligence, and he loves to see you smile. Were it not for your lack of dowry and your penchant for arguing with him in public, between your beauty and brains, he might even say you’d have rivaled Yeonjun’s wife for the title of diamond in your first season.

But beyond that, you are just…a good person. Kind, brave, devoted, and determined to make your own way. Beomgyu remembers the special soft smile you reserve specifically for Delia, the care with which you held the duchess’s child when you two met, and he remembers when he decided you couldn’t be the hateful spitfire he always thought you were—because no one who loves children so much as you do could be truly evil.

Was that when he started to fall in love with you?

Beomgyu pinches himself hard and tries not to think that again. He still doesn’t even know if he loves you. He shouldn’t be thinking such things, not when he still doesn’t have the facts straight. Like the facts that you are wonderful, that you are sweet, that he really wants to kiss you again…

That he really regrets leaving you alone on the dance floor, and curses his cowardice for not being able to face the realization then that he might truly love you.

No. It isn’t just might. Might is a word for uncertainty and while his brain cries that he doesn’t know, that he may never know, that word is sounding more and more like a cowardly out with every second that passes. Beomgyu swallows hard. He does love you. Loves every part of you, and wants to be with you every minute from now.

And he’s ruined that.

Beomgyu buries his face in his hands. He’s an idiot. A damned fucking idiot. A stupid, lovestruck, panicked, destructive idiot who ruined everything because he couldn’t face his damn feelings. He has to apologize but he can’t face himself again, let alone face you. And who knows if you would even want to see him after what he did to you?

He’s so trapped in his head that when a knock sounds at his door, he barely hears it. He almost dismisses it as a figment of his imagination—and honestly, in his state, it isn’t impossible—but then the knock comes again and his stomach drops.

It’s Soobin.

Sure enough, his brother doesn’t even wait for a response before opening the door. Faint candlelight glows from the lantern he’s holding, throwing far too much light into the room for Beomgyu’s liking. “You don’t look particularly well,” Soobin says, voice carefully neutral.

Beomgyu’s hackles rise almost immediately. “Leave,” he snaps.

“No,” Soobin says simply, closing the door. “My typically level-headed younger brother just ran away from the woman he was courting at a ball after dancing a waltz with her, and my wife might be after his blood.” Beomgyu stiffens as his brother sits down on the bed next to him. “Unfortunately, I know my brother quite well, and I know that he has always been a gentleman except when it comes to bothering me and the rest of our family, so I am willing to hear him out before I allow my wife to pull out his teeth one by one.”

To anyone else, Soobin’s threat might sound like a joke. Beomgyu knows otherwise, though. His sister in law is very protective of her friends, and Soobin is very willing to cave to his wife’s reasonable demands. He doesn’t blame either of them. He half wants to tear himself to pieces anyway.

“So tell me.” Soobin’s voice takes on a softer note, a tone he only brings out around Beomgyu. He used to hate it when he was a child—he always thought Soobin was trying to patronize him, trying to be condescending older brother during those moments Beomgyu messed up nearly irreparably—but now it drains all of the residual anger out of him, leaving him with no defense left. “What happened? I know it was not nothing.”

Beomgyu chews over his words in his head, slowly, slowly. Soobin waits for him in silence, giving him all the time to think.

“It was a mistake.”

Soobin raises an eyebrow and Beomgyu immediately wants to slap himself. All that time to think and he still said the worst thing possible. “Dancing with Miss L/N was a mistake?” Soobin asks, his mild tone dangerous.

“No.” Beomgyu shakes his head wildly. “At least—not in that way. I should not have waltzed with her.” He swallows. “That was my folly. But I never regretted dancing with her.”

“You never regretted being with her.”

Beomgyu takes a deep breath. “…No.”

“So why did you run away so suddenly?”

He feels short of breath. Words aren’t coming to him and neither is air, and is it just him or is the room spinning? “I—” he manages to get out, but then stops. He can’t think. Surely he’ll be able to when the room rights itself.

Soobin waits patiently as Beomgyu collects himself. When the room finally stops still, he swallows hard, looking at his lap. “I think I am in love with Miss L/N.”

For several long moments, Soobin says nothing, just looks at Beomgyu while he doesn’t look back. Then he snorts. “Congratulations,” he says, deadpan. “You are officially the last person to know.”

Beomgyu jerks his head up. “What?”

“Now I know why you found me so insufferable when I was mooning over my wife.” Soobin shakes his head in mock disgust, though a smile plays on his lips. “It was at least as insufferable or more, watching you try to come to terms with your feelings over the past weeks. I honestly thought you’d have figured it out by now.” He sighs as Beomgyu just gapes. “Idiot.”

“But I—what—” The room is threatening to start spinning again. “How did you know?”

Soobin looks at him, incredulous. “It was so obvious, Beomgyu. A better question might be how didn’t you know?”

Beomgyu opens his mouth. Then he remembers all of his thoughts from his breakdown just a few minutes ago, and he closes it. “…Fair.”

“Despite this, I understand.” Soobin grins a little sheepishly. “Did I not drive you to no end of madness when I was in denial over my wife?”

Beomgyu wants to laugh, but a more embarrassing fact stares him straight in the face. “Yes, but you didn’t cause nearly as much destruction as I have right now.”

“True, and not true.” Soobin sighs. “I hurt my wife by thinking I knew what was best for her during her season. You warned me then, didn’t you? That if I kept smothering her, then I would lose her. And I almost did.” He pauses. “But I didn’t.”

“But—”

“Why did you run out today?” Soobin interrupts. “It could not just be because you were in love with Miss L/N.”

“Not exactly.” Beomgyu stares at his lap. “I realized it then and I suppose I…choked. Metaphorically.” He tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite work. “I couldn’t believe it. That I had fallen for her so quickly and so deeply—we were at each other’s throats just months ago! I hated her, she vexed me and I know I vexed her at least as much, but then we made that deal—”

“What deal?”

Shit.

Soobin doesn’t know that the courtship was fake.

Beomgyu swallows hard. “I wasn’t really courting her,” he says quietly, carefully not looking at his brother. “But at the beginning of the season, at Lady Park’s ball…”

Soobin sits silently as Beomgyu tries to explain the deal you two had made in as few words as he can. He feels Soobin’s gaze grow more and more judgmental with every word that falls from his lips but he forces himself on. This is his punishment. The ton’s gossip, your ire, and his brother’s judgment. The holy trinity.

When he finishes, Soobin stays quiet a moment longer. “And in the process of all of this, you fell in love,” he finally says. His tone couldn’t be dryer.

Beomgyu nods meekly.

Soobin sighs. “If it helps, I think she’s in love with you, too.”

It’s Beomgyu’s turn to gape as Soobin smirks. “I will admit, you two had me fooled from the beginning. I believed your courtship. But if you had told me then that you were in love, I never would have believed that. I know what people in love look like. And perhaps it is just easier for one to see it on others more than on oneself, but I see it in you, and I see it in her.”

“Well, fat lot of good that does me, since I’ve ruined everything that might have been.” Beomgyu swallows. “I just—I was waltzing with her, and everything started fitting into place but I was so scared of how much I loved her that I just...”

“You ran away.” Soobin nods as Beomgyu sits there, miserable. “But, Beomgyu…such a mistake is not the end of the world. Not yet.”

“But—”

“I am not saying that what you did wasn’t wrong,” Soobin continues, cutting cleanly through whatever Beomgyu might have said. “It was, and it was a mistake that you will have to rectify. But you can try to rectify it. You must.” He gazes at Beomgyu, and for all Beomgyu loves pretending he is on equal ground with his older brother, right now he feels the weight of several years of experience entering the air between them. Unlike other times, though, he now welcomes it. “You must apologize, no matter what. It is up to her if she accepts it, and she may not…but she also might.”

For the first time since he ran out of the ballroom, Beomgyu feels a stirring of warmth in his chest, a prickle of hope. Yes. He must speak to you. He must apologize. He will hear whatever you have to say in response, and even if you say you never wish to see him again…he will take it. He must. Because he will make his apology because it is the right thing to do—not just for the hope of forgiveness.

But maybe you will hear him out. And maybe, just maybe, you will accept it.

Maybe.

He’s halfway to the door when Soobin says his name.

“Beomgyu?”

He turns around to see Soobin looking back, amused. “Perhaps not at this hour.”

Beomgyu flushes. “…Right.”

. . .

The next morning, Beomgyu shows up at your home at the proper calling hour. When the door opens, he takes a deep breath to announce himself, but the butler speaks before he can.

You won’t see him.

That, or your stepmother isn’t allowing you to accept calls, which unfortunately would probably be the right thing to do in this situation. Beomgyu prays that it is the second reason and not simply that you refuse to allow him in, which he would completely understand, but…he still needs to try.

He calls five days in a row, all to the same bland response that you are not taking calls. After almost a week of no luck his sister in law tries for him, and is rebuffed the same way. The ton must be talking up a storm at the fact that two members of the Choi residence—not to mention one of them being the man who left you alone at the ball—have tried to visit you over the course of just a week, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. If you tell him never to return he will stop, but until he hears those words, he will keep coming day after day, no matter what he needs to do.

A week later, Beomgyu stands in front of your residence, ready to hear refusal once more. But when the door swings open, though your butler stands there with much the same pinched expression that he’s worn every time Beomgyu has seen him, the rejection doesn’t immediately roll off his tongue. “You don’t let up, do you?” he asks instead.

Beomgyu blinks. It was clearly a rhetorical question, but he still feels tongue-tied even though the butler clearly expects no response. “Wait here,” he says, gesturing to just inside the hall. When Beomgyu steps inside, the butler shuts the door with an ominous thud, and stalks off into the home.

Well, this isn’t quite usual. In fact, this whole exchange has been rather rude. A butler should not speak to a man of Beomgyu’s title with such disdain, nor should he be kept waiting in the hallway—at the very least, in any other home, he would have been shown to the drawing room. Beomgyu won’t complain, though. He gets the feeling that the staff here are very loyal to you, and as he was the one who hurt you…he can’t quite blame them for viewing him with hostility. And at any rate, this is much better than having the door shut in his face again.

Beomgyu waits in the hallway for what feels like hours, shifting from one foot to another in a manner most ungentlemanly, until footsteps sound in a nearby room. He stiffens and his heart, which had previously been deceptively calm, immediately begins to race. Holding his breath, Beomgyu watches the end of the hallway as a shadow finally comes rounding in.

You take several steps and stop a healthy distance away from him. Even across all that space, though, the chill emanating from your expression hits him like a gust of icy wind to the face. You aren’t dressed to formally receive visitors, rather just wearing a plain day dress that has clearly seen some wear, and gloves cover your hands. The old ones you used to wear day in and day out. Not the ones he gifted you.

“Mr. Choi,” you say, icy. “What are you doing here?”

He swallows hard. Your message is clear. He hadn’t been feeling particularly confident about this before, but now all of his remaining bravado drains out of him and into the cold floor. “Miss L/N,” he says, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I…I’m sorry. I wanted to apologize.”

For a moment, you remain silent. And then you laugh.

The sound chills Beomgyu’s blood. High and mocking, it completely eviscerates any and all hope he might have had of you deigning to hear him out. He can only watch, sick to the core, as you advance several steps toward him, your shoes clicking threateningly on the floor.

“What exactly, Mr. Choi, did you think an apology would do for me?” you ask. Your expression remains deceptively calm but venom pulses in your eyes. “Would it rescue my trust in you? Would it save my reputation?” Your face twists into a snarl and Beomgyu nearly takes a step back. “No. It doesn’t do a damn thing.”

Shame roots him in place, but you don’t notice or care as you stare at him, unflinching. “How dare you!” you hiss, jabbing a finger at him. “How dare you come into my home after you left me alone at that ball after having asked me to waltz? And don’t you dare try to pin it on me—you could have stopped dancing anytime. Even if you hadn’t remembered it would be a waltz, you could have led me off the dance floor when the music began and I wouldn’t have cared! But you kept dancing and so I trusted that you knew what this was, what it meant—and you broke that trust!” You’re yelling now. Beomgyu feels like he might throw up. “I trusted you from the start, even though I hated you! I trusted you with this deal. I trusted you with the courtship. I trusted you even when you said to be wary of Lord Cho—but as it turns out, I should have been wary of you instead.” You laugh again, that terrible mocking sound curdling in his ears. “For all I always hated you, I never once doubted your honor. I always thought you honorable.” You scoff, finally looking away, and that’s what shames Beomgyu the most. You can’t even look him in the face as you deliver this tirade, he’s hurt you so much. “But perhaps you are only honorable when it is convenient for you.”

Anger flares in Beomgyu’s chest when you say that, but it quickly dies down when he realizes your words are truth. He has always taken pride in his honor. He had never done a thing to compromise another person. But now, when it mattered most…he compromised you. All because he couldn’t handle his own feelings.

He feels so stupid. How could he even begin to apologize to you? He ruined everything for you—your reputation, your prospects, your future. You’re right. Absolutely right.

He has no place here, in front of you, attempting to fix something he shattered beyond salvaging.

“I am sorry,” Beomgyu says quietly, stepping back. “I am—so incredibly sorry. I should not be here.” He swallows hard. “I am not welcome, and I understand. I have hurt you beyond repair and I can never atone for this.”

You still won’t look at him. “Get out,” you say roughly. “Get out of my home.” You take a deep breath. “I do not wish to see you again.”

Beomgyu swallows. “As you wish, my lady.”

With that, he turns and walks out of the door. And as the carriage pulls away and the tears finally begin to roll down his face, Beomgyu resolves that you will never lay eyes on him again, even if it means he has to hide in public at every turn. He broke your deal. He broke your trust.

It’s the least he can do, to not break this promise, too.

. . . . .

You really shouldn’t be here.

It is true that you received an invite, but it is also true that you have been declining all of your recent invites—or rather, your stepmother has been doing that for you. The hope is that in your absence, the gossip about you and Beomgyu will die down so that by the time you finally return to society, the whispers that come up won’t be much at all.

You have about as much faith in this plan as you do in the notion that your stepmother secretly loves you.

It was fine, though. You didn’t have much desire to see anyone anyway. Your brief conversation—if it can even be called that—with Beomgyu left you drained and exhausted for far longer than you expected, and beyond that, you haven’t the courage yet to face the ton’s whispers head on. You really, really didn’t wish to risk the chance that you might see him in public either.

But then Lord Cho came to call on your mother, bearing this invite, and somehow he managed to convince her not only to let him in, but also to accompany you to the ball.

You have an idea of what he said. It might have to do with something like a question he wishes to ask you and a possible ring he plans to put on your finger. Unbelievable, really—why would he want to marry you, especially now? You have even less to offer than you did before. You can’t fathom his reasoning at all. But it must be true, because in the carriage your stepmother looked at you and said, “Do not do anything this evening to spoil things for yourself.”

There was enough loaded meaning in that statement for you to make your own inferences.

So here you are, now, walking as quietly as you can, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you trail behind your stepmother towards the entrance of the Jung home. You wonder not for the first time why Lord Cho had to propose in such a public setting—could he not just have spoken to you at home?—but you cut the thought off as he materializes in front of you, that wide, charming smile broadening across his face. “Miss L/N,” he says, bowing as you curtsy. He kisses your hand gently. “I cannot express my delight to see you tonight.”

You let out a breathy laugh. Help. “It is lovely to see you as well, Lord Cho. My stepmother was over the moon that you wished to accompany me tonight. It shall give her some time to meet with her own friends, for once.”

“Of course I would wish to accompany you.” He flashes you that easy grin, holding out his elbow. “Anyone who wouldn’t is either lying, or has no eyes in their head.”

You smile as you take his arm, but it doesn’t come as naturally as you’d like. As he leads you into the ballroom, chatting away cheerfully, you remind yourself that you should be grateful for him. You should be grateful that he still has you in his thoughts, that he continues to pursue you even after everything that had happened. He certainly knows about the scandal—one would truly have to be living under a rock to not know—but he seems to be the only one who has not let it affect his view of you. He still wants court you. He still wants to marry you.

You are grateful. You really are. It’s just…

Beomgyu.

The name pops into your mind, and you feel like you might throw up. Beomgyu. Your heart starts twisting itself into knots and you have to bite your lip hard to avoid showing anything on your face. You hate that you’re still thinking of him. He hurt you. He damaged your reputation possibly beyond repair. He certainly isn’t suffering the consequences of your first and last waltz—at least not the consequences that you are.

You were the one who sent him away, so angry at the sight of his face that you barely allowed him to speak. You were the one who told him never to return. Yet even knowing that, walking into the ballroom on another man’s arm…

Your heart still aches for him, and only him.

Why him? Why now? You grit your teeth, trying to force away your thoughts. You’d been doing so well with it, too—your chores had kept you busy enough not to think of him, and even tonight you wore your old cotton gloves instead of the silk pair he gifted you—but here you are now, thinking of him even though he is nowhere to be seen.

Not that you’d even want to see him, you remind yourself. But deep down, you know that’s a lie.

Despite everything, you’d still rather be on Beomgyu’s arm than Lord Cho’s. Would rather have his proposal of marriage. Would rather be with him for the rest of your life, even if Lord Cho would take you far away from here and you’d never have to hear the ton’s gossip every again.

Damn it all. You never should have fallen in love.

“Miss L/N?” Lord Cho’s voice jerks you out of your thoughts. You look at him and flinch to see his face so close to yours. “Are you all right?”

Too late, you realize he’s probably been talking to you for a while, and you definitely haven’t been responding. “I am fine,” you say unconvincingly.

“Do not lie to me.” His voice sounds gentle, but you have to force yourself not to take a step back when he looks at you more closely. “What is on your mind, my lady?”

Is he daft? Suddenly, you feel extremely irritated that you have to say this out loud. “A lot has happened in the past few weeks, my lord,” you say quietly. “Forgive me if I am not yet myself in public. I do not wish to sully your good name, either, by standing with you now.”

Lord Cho glances around and for the first time that night, he seems to take in the stares coming in your direction. You tense, waiting for him to pull away, but he only turns back to you with a soft smile. “I do not care much for my good name, whatever that means,” he says gently. “I care for you, Miss L/N. If you are not feeling well, then I would be glad to take you to a quieter room to recover. But I should like to stay by you, if you will let me.” He clasps your free hand. “I care little for the opinions of this ton. I do not claim to know you better than anybody, but I will say that I do not believe their gossip about you holds any merit at all. Not, at least, from what I have seen of you with my own two eyes.”

All of the irritation drains from you at once. You still feel exhausted and weary, but gratefulness fill up the little caverns in your chest that the stress of the last few weeks had carved out of your soul. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“There is nothing for which you must thank me,” he replies. “Now, should you like to retire somewhere else? I will not force you to remain in the ballroom any longer than you can stand.”

You smile at him, a little more easily than before. “We might stay out for a little longer, Lord Cho. I should not wish you to miss out on anything simply for me.”

“Then let me know as soon as you would like to rest, and we will.” He squeezes your hand softly.

It makes you feel a little better than before. As you hold easy conversation with Lord Cho, taking slow turns around the ballroom, you find yourself relaxing somewhat. Beomgyu isn’t here, but even if he was, you tell yourself that you wouldn’t mind it so much. He always had some strange vendetta against Lord Cho, but look at him now, still standing by you even when the rest of the ton has turned its back. Beomgyu had no right to judge him so.

(The selfish part of you almost wants Beomgyu to see you like this, your arm in Lord Cho’s, walking pleasantly about the room. What would he say then?)

You manage this for about an hour, but then Lord Cho invites you to dance. Despite all of your misgivings, you accept. But as you step onto the ballroom floor, you become increasingly aware of everyone staring right at you. You wish you were exaggerating. In fact, you try to put it down to your nerves at first. But every time Lord Cho spins you to face the audience, everyone’s stare is riveted on the two of you, and your heart rate spikes.

By the end of the dance, your heart won’t calm down no matter how much you try to slow it, and you desperately need to be away from everyone. Away from everything.

You barely manage to babble some excuse to Lord Cho, who insists on accompanying you out of the ballroom to find a quieter space. You’d really rather be alone but you don’t have the energy to ask him to leave, so you acquiesce silently and allow him to lead you down the hall. He’s staying here for the time being, you remember, since Mr. Jung is his friend, so he knows where to go.

He opens a door for you and you stumble in, grateful for the silence that follows you into the room. So grateful are you that you don’t realize the room is empty until Lord Cho closes the door with a soft but decisive click.

You look around, still trying to rein your heartbeat in. It’s a small room, decorated somewhat sparsely. You sit on a small, soft couch, and a table stands against the wall next to you with a few small ornaments displayed on top. A pair of unlit silver candlesticks stands tall among them, but light comes from the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

That light illuminates Lord Cho’s face as he steps toward you with purpose, something unreadable in his gaze. You blink, your head throbbing even as your heart finally begins to calm. “Lord Cho?” you try to ask. “What are you—”

“Miss L/N.” He stops in front of you, and despite the softness of his expression, dread begins to pool in your stomach. “I had intended to find another moment, but now that we are in private, I wondered if you might honor me with your attentions.” He smiles slightly. “I think you know what I would like to ask.”

Oh God.

He’s going to ask to marry you.

You stand up on instinct, at the same time taking a step back as surreptitiously as you can. “Lord Cho,” you say, pressing a hand to your forehead. You’re only half faking the headache. “I’m incredibly sorry, but I’m not feeling well. Perhaps now is not the time—”

“Miss L/N.” He reaches forward and takes your hands before you can react. “This will not take but a moment of your thought.”

Your heart rate is rising again and beyond the headache you’re starting to feel sick. Why do you feel like this? You should be happy. Overjoyed, even. For the first time you will really be receiving a marriage proposal worth consideration, one that won’t leave you miserable for the rest of your life. But even knowing this, Beomgyu’s face still comes to the forefront of your mind, the feeling of his arms holding you so close as you kissed, the sensation of his lips pressed against yours like they belonged there. Like they were made for yours.

Your throat tightens. You have to give him an affirmative answer. You have to say yes. But despite the gravity of the situation every part of you screams to flee this room right here and now and you can’t sort through your thoughts properly, let alone drum up the energy to speak.

“Lord Cho—”

“I understand you might be somewhat overwhelmed, Miss L/N.” He cuts you off for the second time and beyond the sick feeling you’re starting to get irritated. Does he not hear you? “But truly, I do not care for the scandal. I do not care for the gossip. I think you are a wonderfully witty woman, beautiful and sharp, and quite simply, I enjoy your presence.” He squeezes your hands and you can’t help but compare it to when Beomgyu does—did—the same thing. Beomgyu made it feel comforting, romantic. Right now, you still just feel sick. “I would take you far from this place, Miss L/N. You would never have to see anyone from the ton ever again if you did not want to. As my mistress—”

Mistress?

You didn’t hear that correctly. Surely you didn’t. But the words wife and mistress are about as far apart as flower and cockroach and your mind keeps replaying his words over and over and he said mistress, he definitely said mistress, what the fuck is going on? You jerk your hands out of his grip. “As your mistress?” you repeat, incredulous.

He blinks. “Yes.” A little amused smile curves his lips, and you hate it. It is condescending and arrogant and makes you feel so incredibly small even as you stand in front of him. “Surely you did not expect me to marry you?”

You stumble backward, head spinning. “You—what did you say to my stepmother? She thought you were going to marry me!”

“Oh, I might have taken steps to lead her down that line of thought.” He shrugs, like it means nothing that he’s been deceiving her, deceiving you, this entire time. “I did not think a woman like her would understand the things that you would, but I am sure if we simply tell her that we plan to marry in my home country, she will rest assured.”

What?

You must still look completely bewildered, because Lord Cho steps forward and attempts to take your hands again. You step away before he can. “Miss L/N,” he says quietly, soothingly, like he speaks to a small child. Never once before now did you hear the arrogance underlying his tone. “It will be fine. I will take you from here, shower you in jewels and silks and money. All you must do is stand by me.” He smiles wider. “The ton will never know. Your stepmother will never know. And it won’t matter, anyway, because you need never see them again.”

You force yourself to stare straight into his eyes. “What makes you think,” you say quietly, “that I will so readily agree?”

Lord Cho frowns, almost like he hadn’t expected you to push back, which astounds you. How could he ever expect you to simply go along with this? “You are a reasonable woman, Miss L/N,” he says. “Surely you must see that with the absence of a dowry and your lack of family fortune, you have very few options? I am offering you an out, a very comfortable one at that.”

“You said you wanted to marry me,” you say, still half in disbelief.

“I never once said that I would marry you.” He smiles, as though revealing a particularly clever trick. “I said I wanted to be with you. I said I wanted you. But I never said I would marry you.”

Your stomach drops to the floor. What Lord Cho is saying…it is true. All of it is true. You were the one who made assumptions. You were the one who really, truly thought he cared about you beyond your reputation, and still might want you as a partner for life. He tricked you. Completely.

“All of which is true,” he continues, “but I am a gentleman of means.” He peers at you like this means something. “Surely you see why I cannot truly marry you?”

You shake your head dumbly, once, twice. “No. No,” you repeat, stepping backward. “I—”

“You truly thought I’d marry a barely titled, dirt poor foreign woman with nothing to bring me but her beauty?” Lord Cho laughs again and your insides grow cold. “Come now, Miss L/N. Don’t flatter yourself too much.” He winks like you’re both in on some terrible joke that only he can understand. “You are certainly beautiful, but not that beautiful.”

Stupidly, his words bring a stinging feeling behind your eyes, warning of tears to come. Between your pounding headache and the sick feeling in your stomach, though, you muster the energy to force them back. If there is anything you are going to do in front of this man, it won’t be crying like some sort of damsel in distress. “Don’t flatter yourself either,” you say lowly. “You are not handsome enough, nor charming enough, that I would lose all of my dignity to become a mistress for you.”

“So your answer is no?”

“Yes, it is.” You scoff. “In case you needed it spelled out for you explicitly, Lord Cho, no. I will not be your mistress.”

He laughs. Chills run up your spine. You have heard him laugh dozens of times since you met, but never has the sound been so terrifying before. “It’s incredibly funny to me that you think you have a choice,” he says, taking a step forward.

You stiffen, glancing instinctively towards the other side of the room where the door is closed. Cold dread settles in your veins. You swallow hard and for a moment you’re back in the garden with Mr. Thompson advancing on you.

Just like then, you can’t seem to move.

“You don’t have a choice, Miss L/N.” His voice turns almost kind, which only makes the entire situation more threatening. “It isn’t just me. You are poor and unmarried. Would you allow yourself to become a spinster, and force your family into caring for you as you age? With this, I only offer you an out. A way to have a comfortable life, even despite the tragedies of your situation.” He takes another step forward.

You force yourself to move, to keep the distance between you two. No wonder he wanted to do this in public. He won’t expect you to fight back or scream, not at the cost of someone hearing and your reputation truly being dragged through the pits of hell. “Don’t pretend to care about me,” you spit, carefully trying to edge yourself around the room. “Don’t pretend to care about my family. You’re the one trying to trap me into something I haven’t given any indication that I want.” You curl your lip. “You don’t need me, Lord Cho. Go find another woman in similar straits who would be willing to do this. I won’t.”

Lord Cho shakes his head, a smirk slowly creeping up his face. “When will you realize, Miss L/N,” he says softly, “that I am not asking?”

Your blood runs cold. You tense to run—

He suddenly lunges forward before you can move. You cry out as he snatches your wrist, his fingers as dry and unpleasant against your skin as they were warm before. “I was only being polite before. But you have made your stance clear, and now so will I.” He leans forward, crushing your wrist in his grip. “I’m already here, with you, alone in a closed off room. You Londoners are so prim and proper it’s almost stifling, but once news of this spreads…” He grins, baring all of his teeth. “You’ll have no choice but to come with me.”

You swallow hard, trying to breathe. Your breath comes in short gasps as your heart races faster and faster and you’re starting to feel lightheaded, which does absolutely nothing to help you think. “Get off of me,” you snarl, trying to wrench yourself out of his grip. “Get off of me—”

He laughs. “Not on your life,” he sneers, his face coming closer to yours.

You know what’s going to happen next. He’s going to kiss you, trap you—he’s going to make it so that he’s tainted you so much with his touch that it won’t even matter if you manage to scream and escape. There is no way you can win. Either he assaults you in silence and you are forced to accept his offer by virtue of your body being tainted, or you scream before he can do anything and someone comes in and sees and you’re trapped anyway because no one will believe a woman.

Lord Cho’s breath hits your face, warm and repugnant. As you struggle away from his hold, bizarrely, you’re reminded of when Beomgyu kissed you, and how different that was from now.

Beomgyu.

He was right about Lord Cho. He was right that there was something strange about him. He was right that you should have been careful, that you should have kept your wits about you when around the man, and for all you claimed you would listen to him you still didn’t believe him. You thought he was blind, suspicious, and jealous. Just an hour ago you were trying to gloat to yourself that you had won Lord Cho anyway, proven that he was not such a terrible man as Beomgyu thought. You trusted him to help you. To truly have your best interests at heart.

And now look at where that has landed you.

Suddenly a wave of anger shoves through your thoughts. Beomgyu was right, and damn it all, you’re suffering the consequences of not listening to him. But even if you made mistakes—which you will readily admit—none of it changes the fact that you didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be poor. You didn’t ask for your stepmother. You didn’t ask to be taken advantage of and you don’t damn deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t deserve Mr. Thompson and the garden. You didn’t deserve Beomgyu leaving you after the waltz.

And you certainly don’t deserve Lord Cho right now.

Red washes across your vision and you scream.

He jerks back, startled, and just as his grip loosens you jerk your knee upward. You connect with his flesh and he cries out, but you’ve already torn yourself out of his grasp and are stumbling toward the door. Your legs feel like they’re made out of jelly but you hike up your skirts and force them to move, to take you out of here, anywhere but here—

A hand snatches your arm and Lord Cho slams you against a wall so hard you see stars. You cry out in pain but he slaps a hand over your mouth, eyes wild with rage. “You little witch,” he sneers, bits of spittle flying out of his mouth as he speaks. Vaguely you wonder how you ever found him handsome. “You’ll pay for that.”

You bite his palm. He lets go with a curse and you try to kick him. “Get off of me.” You swing at him with your free hand but he catches your fist midair, bearing down on you with all of his weight. “I said, get off of me—”

He’s too heavy. You can’t shove him off, not on your own. But as your frayed mind begins to shut down, a single, final idea bursts forth from its depths, and you go completely limp in Lord Cho’s grasp.

He doesn’t expect it. You drop to the floor and he lets go of you on reflex. As you stumble out of his range you almost hit your head on a table leg, the same display table you saw on your way into the room, but you manage to haul yourself up just as Lord Cho rounds on you.

Your fumbling fingers close around something metal. And as he leaps toward you, murder in his eyes, you swing one of the two silver candlesticks at his head.

It seems to happen slowly, far too slowly. The candlestick, a blur of silver streaking through the air. Lord Cho’s eyes widening as he tries to dodge, but too late. Your own scream lodges in your throat as the candlestick fully smacks right into his temple with a terrible noise, the awful impact jolting up your arm.

Then the door slams open.

Lord Cho drops to the ground. The candlestick clatters on the floor. You stagger backwards, head spinning, and look up to meet eyes with none other than Beomgyu.

Bizarrely, you almost feel the urge to laugh. This is just like that time in the garden with Mr. Thompson, so much so that even with your pounding head, you feel a terrible sense of déjà vu. “Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Choi,” you croak out.

And then you collapse.

. . . . .

Beomgyu isn’t supposed to be here.

Well, technically speaking, he was invited. His whole family was. But even though Soobin and Yeonjun were both planning to go, Beomgyu didn’t originally intend to join them, and they didn’t really try to convince him otherwise. He hasn’t been up to doing much since you threw him out of your home and after one too many snarled conversations, his family has more or less given up on trying to get him back into society.

He does leave his room, though, to bid Soobin and his wife goodbye before they depart to the ball. They seem pleasantly surprised to see him, which only makes shame well up in his chest. “Are you sure you will not attend with us?” Lady Choi asks, looking hopeful. “Wooyoung will be quite disappointed not to see you.”

Beomgyu shakes his head. “No, I think I should like to rest tonight.”

“As you wish, brother. Have a good night.” Soobin takes his wife’s hand then, giving her a soft smile as they begin to walk out of the hall. As Beomgyu turns around to walk back up the stairs, though, he catches his brother asking, “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” his wife replies.

“I’ve heard Miss L/N will be in attendance.”

Beomgyu stops hard in his tracks. After two weeks of being conspicuously absent from all society events, you would decide to show yourself tonight? At Wooyoung’s ball?

Soobin continues, perhaps a bit more loudly, and Beomgyu could swear he hears something of a smirk in his brother’s voice. “I believe she might be receiving a proposal tonight.”

Beomgyu whirls around. “From who?” he demands.

Soobin turns to him, lips curled in that smirk Beomgyu heard so clearly. “From Lord Cho, of course,” he says. “Who else?”

It takes a moment for that to sink in. His brother and sister in law have disappeared out of the front doors before Beomgyu even finishes processing that information. He remains at the base of the staircase, frozen in place, turning those words over and over in his head.

You might be receiving a proposal tonight.

You might be receiving a proposal tonight from Lord Cho.

Beomgyu is dressed and calling for someone to ready the carriage before he even realizes what he’s doing.

As he steps into the vehicle, though, he stops suddenly. Why is he so eager to go now? Hadn’t you made it clear that he was to stay away from you at all costs, that he had hurt you far beyond what you were able to forgive? Knowing that, and knowing that he respects you with all that he has, he should be staying far away.

But he didn’t even get to apologize to you. You pushed him out before he could say anything, and though he left, he still has things to say. If you truly care for and want to marry Lord Cho, Beomgyu knows he won’t be able to stop you. But he has to find some way for you to hear him out first, just for a chance—that slim, slim chance that he can apologize, that you will hear him out, that maybe he can begin to try and make amends. And for that to happen, he has to be there tonight. He has to get to you before Lord Cho can, has to get to you before you say yes to him.

When he enters the ball, though, you aren’t there.

You were there. He knows this because as he passes through the ballroom, ignoring everyone who tries to catch his attention, he hears snippets of people gossiping at the audacity of your showing your face here tonight. In any other moment he would have something barbed to say to them, but he needs to find you, first and foremost. But you aren’t there. You’re nowhere.

“Beomgyu!” Yeonjun grabs his shoulder, looking very pleased. Wooyoung is right behind him and wears a similar smile on his face. “I thought you weren’t coming tonight!”

“I wasn’t,” he replies shortly, knowing how rude he sounds right now and not caring at all. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Amusement and concern war on Yeonjun’s face. “No, I haven’t, but I imagine she’d like to keep to herself this evening.” He starts trying to pull Beomgyu away. “But if you’re here—”

They all hear it at the same time. A muffled scream from a room further down the hall, then a dull thud like something hit the floor or a wall. Three men look at each other.

Then Beomgyu starts running.

Every second seems to take an hour as he sprints down the hall. Yeonjun and Wooyoung follow but more slowly and Beomgyu has no patience to wait for his cousin and friend as he pulls open doors, cursing every time they come up empty. But then he flinches hard as a loud crash sounds right against the wall and before he can realize what he’s doing, his hand is on the doorknob and he flings it open just in time to see you strike Lord Cho’s head with a silver candlestick.

Time seems to slow. He freezes in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, watching Lord Cho crumple slowly to the ground. The rational part of him says he should see if Lord Cho is fine, at least check if the man is still breathing, but a loud thunk sounds, shattering his daze, and Beomgyu looks over to see the candlestick fall out of your numb hands onto the floor.

You meet his gaze. Your eyes, blown wide with fear, tremble in their sockets as you stumble backwards, away from the candlestick. Beomgyu can only stare back, his head spinning as he tries to take in the moment, and then you speak.

“Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Choi.”

Then you collapse.

Beomgyu surges forward to catch you just before your head hits the floor. “Miss L/N,” he says lowly, gathering you into his arms. You’re breathing, but when you don’t open your eyes, he starts to panic. “Miss L/N! Y/N!” A groan sounds from further away and vaguely he registers that it must be Lord Cho, but he can’t tear himself away from you. “Y/N!”

The door bursts open again. Beomgyu turns around just in time to see Yeonjun fly into the room, followed closely by Wooyoung and the duchess. “…Beomgyu?” he asks, taking in the scene. “What…what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu manages to get out. “Y/N—she—”

The next few moments are a blur. There’s a lot of talking, yelling, and then someone brings in smelling salts and tries gently to push Beomgyu away so that they can revive you. He refuses to stop holding you, though. He needs to hear you breathing. He needs to know you’re fine.

Slowly, you come to. Beomgyu holds his breath as your eyes flutter open, roving dazedly over the room. “Y/N?” he asks softly. When your eyes turn to him, he breathes out a terrible sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he whispers.

Nearby, Lord Cho also seems to be coming to, though with a very nasty lump on his head that Beomgyu can see even from here. Unlike you, though, the second his eyes open, he whirls around, murder written all over his expression. “You,” he snarls, looking straight at you.

You’re shaking. Trembling. You curl further into Beomgyu’s arms and he tightens them around you, well aware of and ignoring all the other eyes in the room. It doesn’t matter that this is improper. You need someone, and even though Beomgyu knows the only reason you’re curling into him is because you’re in shock, he doesn’t care. He won’t abandon you now—not the way he did before.

“Lord Cho, calm yourself.” Wooyoung places a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“That bitch hit me in the head with that candlestick!” Lord Cho roars, pointing at the silver still glinting on the floor. “She claimed she had a headache and I helped her here so that she could rest, but then she went tried to seduce me and I refused and then she went berserk—”

“I suggest you calm yourself before you say more,” Beomgyu snarls. He makes to stand up but you’re still gripping his arms, so he stays put. “Miss L/N would never do such a thing, and you know it.”

“And how do you know that?” Lord Cho sneers, and in that moment Beomgyu can’t believe he ever found his man to be handsome. Seeing him like this, he is the ugliest man Beomgyu has ever seen. “You weren’t even here!”

“I did not.”

Everyone jerks their head around to look at you. Beomgyu himself almost flinches, surprised at the sound of your voice. “Miss L/N?” he asks softly.

You swallow hard, gaze trained on Lord Cho. Your shoulders are still trembling and the color has drained from your lips, leaving them terribly pale, but when you speak, your voice, though weak, still carries through the room. “I did not try to seduce you,” you say, and there’s a hint of a snarl in your tone that chills Beomgyu to the core.

Lord Cho opens his mouth, but Wooyoung steps forward, cutting him off. Beomgyu’s carefree friend looks uncharacteristically serious now, his eyebrows drawn sharp into his face. “Miss L/N,” he greets respectfully. “Then will you tell us what happened?”

Beomgyu watches as you take a deep shuddering breath. You put your hand in his before trying to stand, but you sway in place and Beomgyu just manages to catch you before you fall again. “You can sit, you know,” he says quietly.

“No.” You stay on your feet, lips still pale, but eyes focused and hard. “It is true that I had a headache and wished to rest. Lord Cho offered to escort me out of the ballroom as we had been dancing just before. I did not notice he was leading me to an empty room, and by the time I did realize, he had closed already closed the door. And then—” You swallow convulsively. “He tried to force himself on me.”

Lord Cho sneers. Beomgyu itches to punch the man in the face, maybe break his nose, but your hand still grips his tightly and he won’t move while you still need him. “What proof do you have?” Lord Cho asks. His voice is full of an arrogance that Beomgyu recognizes in those entitled men who never think of anyone but themselves.

Your eyes flare. Beomgyu barely has a moment to prepare himself before you yell, “You propositioned me as your mistress!”

The room falls dead silent, but you aren’t done speaking. “You thought I would be too ashamed to say it out loud, didn’t you?” you snarl, looking straight at Lord Cho. “To admit that this dirt poor, barely endowed, useless slip of a woman would be nothing better than a mistress to an unmarried man?” You laugh, but there is no humor in the sound. “I may be nothing in your estimation,” you yell, “but I would never have agreed to such a thing!”

No one says a word, not even Lord Cho. Only your heavy breaths cut through the silence. “I thought he was going to ask to marry me.” You laugh again, that horrible sound devoid of all emotion. “I was a stupid fool for thinking he would, and I acknowledge that. But never did I think he would proposition me. And never did I think, when I refused, that he would try to assault me just so that I would be forced to return with him.” You turn to Wooyoung, who flinches slightly when you meet his eyes, but then you sag. “I am terribly sorry for causing a scene in your home,” you say, bowing your head low. “I will not beg forgiveness for defending myself, but I apologize for having used your belongings to do it. I will replace the candlestick if need be, only send me the bill. I will see myself out now.”

It would have been an incredibly dramatic exit, if you hadn’t taken one step out of Beomgyu’s grasp and immediately collapsed to the floor again.

Instantly the room bursts into chaos. Beomgyu drops to his knees beside you, frantically feeling for your pulse, all the while Wooyoung and Lord Cho are yelling and the duchess has knelt next to him, carefully lifting your head into her lap. Yeonjun disappears but when Beomgyu blinks again he’s back with the smelling salts, and Beomgyu can only hold his breath as your eyes blink open for the second time that night.

“Thank God,” the duchess breathes. “Miss L/N, let us help you up. Yeonjun—”

Her husband understands immediately, bending down to lift you into his arms. You try to protest, sitting up weakly on your own, but when you nearly fall over again you stop trying. Beomgyu helps his cousin pull you up, but then a loud yell jerks all of their attention to the shouting match happening on the other side of the room.

“Get out of my home,” Wooyoung spits at Lord Cho, face red with fury.

Lord Cho scoffs. “You would take her word over mine? You know me, and you know that woman is insane! All of the society papers say so!”

“Watch your tongue,” Beomgyu hisses, standing up. In several long strides he’s crossed the room and has Lord Cho’s collar in his fist. “Watch your tongue,” he repeats quietly as Lord Cho gasps. “Strong-willed she may be, and certainly a force to be reckoned with, but you go too far to claim such falsehoods about her.”

“And he is right.” Wooyoung steps forward, putting a gentle but warning hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder. Beomgyu gets the message and lets go of Lord Cho’s collar, but he barely takes a step back. “Lord Cho, you are my friend. Were my friend. But we have spent many years apart, and I do not know you well like I know the people of this ton.” He takes a deep breath, as though trying to compose himself. “I do not claim Miss L/N as a close friend,” he says quietly. “But I do know that she does not lie. She does not do things without reason. I also find it very, very hard to believe that a woman who attempted to proposition you would look so ill in your presence.” He leans forward. “I heard the thumps, Lord Cho. I heard you knocking her about the room. She could not have done that to you, and both of us know it.” Wooyoung shakes his head, disgust written all over his features. “I cannot believe I ever counted you as a friend.”

Lord Cho opens his mouth. Closes it. His face, flushed dark, looks almost like it might explode. Beomgyu would laugh if he wasn’t still so rigid with anger.

“I will give you enough time only to gather your things from your quarters,” Wooyoung says coldly. “Then you may depart my residence to find your own lodgings. You will not be welcome back, so I suggest you pack your things carefully.” He points to the door. “A servant will follow you to ensure have your things and you don’t return. Now leave.”

For a moment, Lord Cho looks like he will refuse. Beomgyu tenses, instinctively shifting to block Lord Cho’s gaze when it flickers in your direction, but it’s Wooyoung’s home and so it is his prerogative to do as he likes. Lord Cho has no defense when the host himself has asked him to leave. “I suggest you leave now,” Beomgyu says quietly, “while Mr. Jung is still asking nicely.”

Slowly, too slowly, Lord Cho removes his gaze from you. No one seems to breathe during the time it takes for him and Wooyoung to leave the room, and even after the door shuts behind them, no one says a word even as Yeonjun and Beomgyu help you up to the couch so that you are no longer lying on the floor. It takes Wooyoung coming back in several minutes later for the tension to crack just enough that they can speak.

“Miss L/N, I must apologize deeply for what happened tonight.” He bows deeply, looking truly abashed. “I had no idea he was the man that he was. Lord Cho will be removed from my home immediately, and I expect him to leave the country within a few days.”

You blink slowly from your perch on the couch. “It was no fault of yours, Mr. Jung,” you say.

“Yet I am the host, and I am the one who invited him.” He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t expect you would like to stay any longer tonight.”

“…No,” you admit.

“I will send you home in my carriage. It will leave from the back door, so you need not worry about anyone seeing you,” Wooyoung says, putting out a hand to forestall your protests. “Please, Miss L/N. It is the least I can do.”

“Then I thank you, my lord.” You incline your head to him. “Please, if I have damaged anything of yours, send me the bill. I will see to it that anything broken is replaced or fixed.”

“Do not worry about such things.” Wooyoung shakes his head. “Please get home safely.”

You duck your head in acquiescence and then you allow Beomgyu to quietly lead you out of the room.

Silence weighs heavily between the two of you as Beomgyu guides you through the halls of the Jung residence. Several times he tries to think of something to say, but for all his proclaimed wittiness, nothing comes to mind that he thinks will even remotely help you. Every time he glances at you, you look so tired, so weary, that any beginnings of a conversation that might have begun to take shape in his mind immediately fizzle out.

Beomgyu has been to Wooyoung’s home enough times that it isn’t hard to find the back entrance. He swings open the door and sure enough, the carriage that Wooyoung promised is there. He holds out a hand to you and you take it wordlessly. For a moment in time, while the moon glows softly on your face, you stand like that—hand in hand, in silence.

“I’m sorry,” he says. It just comes out of him all of a sudden. He doesn’t truly know why, or even what he is truly apologizing for.

You look at him. “For what?”

“Everything,” he whispers.

“That is a large amount of blame to take on, isn’t it?”

It’s phrased like a joke, but your tone doesn’t give way to much humor. Beomgyu doesn’t feel any worse or any better for it. “Will you be all right?” he finally asks, very quietly.

You give him a wretched smile in response. “What other choice do I have?”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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starryevermore · 6 months ago

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the house of snow (21) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: changes are coming.

word count: 2,010

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: implied smut, sickness, pet name (petal), not proofread

“I never imaged that Coriolanus Snow would be the sort of man to wrap himself around his wife’s finger,” Clemensia said, stirring her spoon in the china teacup. The metal clinked against the porcelain. She lifted the spoon from the cup and set it on the plate before taking a long drink.

You had invited her and Livia, among some other young ladies of the ton, for tea. The rest of the ladies had broken off in their own conversations while you remained with your friends. It was nice to see them. Though you loved your Coryo, sometimes it was good to spend time away from him. It reminded you of how much you enjoyed his presence.

“I never imagined him married. I sort of thought he’d live alone forever. He never cared much for chasing after girls at the Academy,” Livia admitted. Her face paled as though she realized who she was speaking to. You almost laughed at the scared, mouse-like expression. “I mean no offense, Your Majesty.”

You waved her off. “You can speak freely to me. I must admit, it is nice to hear that someone didn’t think my Coryo to be the marrying type.”

“Oooh, your Coryo,” Clemensia teased, brushing her elbow against yours.

“Oh, hush,” you laughed. “I thought I was truly blind when he told me he’s wanted my hand since we were fourteen. At least now I can say I was not blind, but rather that he was terrible at communicating his feelings.”

Livia’s brows raised to her hairline. “Fourteen? Really?”

“He’d been asking my father for my hand since we were eighteen,” you added. “My father refused until Coryo made a name for himself.”

“And of course he would take that to mean he must be crowned King,” Clemensia said. “He was never anything but ambitious.”

Livia smiled and reached for your hand. She gave it a squeeze. “That is so romantic. A man who will take a kingdom so he can earn his love’s hand. People write stories about that sort of thing.”

“That sounds like the stories you would read, petal.“

All other conversation in the parlor had ceased. You didn’t have to turn in your seat to know that Coryo was behind you. His firm hands came to rest on his shoulders, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. A smile pulled at your lips.

“Do you think all I read is romance?” you said.

“Not all. But everyone needs something lighter after reading about history and politics all day,” Coryo said. His fingers trailed off the lace of your gown and to the exposed skin by your collarbone. A shiver ran down your spine. Why had you tortured yourself with this tea again? “Besides, you had to get the idea of a love match from somewhere.”

You watched as Clemensia leaned over to Livia. Her voice dropped to a stage-whisper as she said, “Aren’t they much cuter than her and Lord Plinth would ever be?”

Coryo’s fingers curled into your skin. It didn’t hurt, but it reminded you of how you and Coryo lost a friend. Even if Sejanus could leave the Peacekeepers and return to the Capitol, nothing would ever be the same. You couldn’t imagine a world where you all could be friends again. You reached up and took his hand, lifting it to your lips. He relaxed as you kissed his knuckles.

“Much cuter,” Livia agreed.

Clemensia’s eyes glinted with mischief as she turned her gaze to you and Coryo. “A shame he enlisted with the Peacekeepers. I wish he could see the two of you so sickeningly in love.”

“Perhaps that’s why he enlisted. Because he couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t the one making her so happy,” Livia mused.

Oh, that was such a romantic way to think of it. If only they knew it was because he was so in love with you that he begged you to run away with him. If only they had seen the King so red with anger, how you had thought he would have killed his once-friend with his bare hands. If Livia was writing your story, she would make it seem like Sejanus peacefully stepped out of the picture. She wouldn’t make it seem like the betrayal it was.

You lifted your chin to look at your husband. While his face was painted to look calm, you could see the anger swirling in his pale blue eyes. You kissed his knuckles again and said, “Why he left doesn’t matter. Not when I have such a wonderful husband by my side.”

Coryo’s tight-lipped smile turned genuine. “And with that, I must steal my wife away. We have important matters we must discuss.”

You held onto Coryo’s hand as you rose from your seat. He led you out of the ignore, the both of you ignoring Clemensia’s giggled “important matters, hm?”. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you walked down the hall. He wouldn’t harm you, you were sure of that, but you didn’t like when he let the anger simmer.

Coryo took you to the office and shut the door behind you. Once alone, he tugged you against his chest and pressed his lips against yours. A gasp escaped you, allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Your arms wound their way around his shoulders. You hand tangled itself in his hair. Well, this certainly wasn’t what you expected, but you weren’t going to kick a gift horse in the mouth.

“I would marry you again,” he grunted against your mouth. “I would marry you every day for the rest of my life.”

“What’s stopping you? You are King. The only person you let order you around is me, and I would never deprive myself of you again.”

Coryo pulled away. Before you could inquire why, he was sinking down on his knees. He pushed your skirts up, hooked one leg over his shoulder. His nose brushed against your clothed core, wet mouth pressing kisses. Coryo pulled down your undergarments and began to recite his vows.

“I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward…”

Your stomach churned as you ate breakfast. With every bite, it took tremendous effort to keep the food down. Even with a generous amount of water between bites, it doesn’t seem to help. Part of you wanted to believe it was because you would be meeting with the Electors for the first time since your engagement to Coryo. But you knew it wasn’t nerves. You had had a rare clear schedule two days prior when you found yourself knelt over a chamberpot, the remnants of lunch spilling out with no end in sight.

“You don’t need to meet with the Electors if you are not feeling up to it,” Coryo said from the other end of the table. He had finished his own breakfast what felt like hours ago. In reality, it had only been a few minutes. Yet every effort to eat your own meal seemed to take eons. “I can meet them on my own, or we can reschedule. No one will fault you if they wish to live.”

The threat was meant to make you laugh, and you might have if the nausea didn’t overwhelm you. A Peacekeeper from the corner of the room raced over with a vessel for your vomit. You heaved until there was nothing left, barely noticing that Coryo had came around your side and was rubbing your back.

“I take it back. You are not going,” he said. “They should be arriving soon, but I will inform them that we cannot take visitors at the moment.”

You lifted your head. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and you knew you looked as sick as you felt. Still, though, you argued, “I am fine now. I-I just need a moment to freshen up. Whatever sickness that was has passed. I am fine, Coryo.”

“Is that why you pretend I don’t know you have been sick every day this week?”

You had prayed he didn’t notice. A foolish thought, to be sure. But he never made a comment when you would slide out of bed or would excuse yourself from the office.

“You never said anything.”

Coryo sighed. He ran a hand over your hair, careful not to mess up the delicate pinnings. “Nor did you. I thought you might have wanted space. If you do, I will continue to allow you it. But I will not let you go to meetings and make yourself worse. Go back to our chambers, take a bath, and I will have a physician sent up.”

“Coryo—”

He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Please, petal.”

You frowned, but conceded. When Coryo looked at you with that serious look in his eyes, it was hard to fight back. So you rose from your chair and retreated to your chambers. A lady’s maid was quick to help you out of your dress and undid your hair while another servant drew you a bath. Once in the bath, you tried to push your mind away from your sickness. It was easy to do until a servant came in to let you know the physician arrived.

Rather reluctantly, you left your bath and slipped on a shift before letting the physician inside your chambers. You offered a tight-lipped smile as he gave a quick bow.

“Thank you for your haste,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The physician pulled the bench by your vanity over so he sat in front of you. “I am certain this will pass soon, but Coryo wanted to be certain.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he said. “I am sure you would much rather return to your duties, so we can make this quick. Could you tell me your symptoms?”

You began to rattle them off, your heart sinking as you began to realize how much you had been sick over the last week. How had Coryo managed to stay silent this long? Did he realize how ill you had been? Judging by the on the physician’s face, you began to worry that you and Coryo had waited too long to do anything.

The door creaked open. Without really thinking of what you were doing, you stood up as Coryo entered the room. He nodded at the physician before coming to your side. You sat together. His hand instinctively took yours.

“Is everything well?” Coryo asked.

“I will need to ask a few questions first, but I am certain all is well, Your Majesty,” the physician said.

“Ask away then,” Coryo said.

The physical looked to you. “Forgive me for my bluntness, but when was your last courses?”

Your grip on Coryo’s hand tightened. When had that been? It felt like nearly a lifetime ago. How long ago had it been since you bled? You used to be so diligent about this. Your mother always stressed the importance of it. She would say it would be important when you were married, because that’s when you knew when you would have children. Children. Oh.

You counted back the days and the weeks, your heart racing as you couldn’t pinpoint the exact time. “Right before the wedding,” you decided. “The day you threw the ball, Coryo.”

Coryo’s head snapped to yours. “That was nearly two months ago.”

The physician smiled. “Ah, well, then that’s likely what’s at issue. I have a few tests we can do to be certain, but I do believe we have found the source of your sickness, Your Majesty.”

Suddenly, you very much wanted to throw up again. Could it really be so soon? You tried to recall married couples that came before you. How long had it been for them? You wanted to say a lot longer. Certainly not a mere two months.

“Congratulations,” the physician said. “Panem will rejoice when your babe arrives.”

You vomited on his shoes.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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shuamorollss · 1 year ago

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unfortunate unexpectations — l.hs x f!reader

In an everyday attempt to avoid the man you eternally loath. Of course, the universe isn't always by your side as you accidentally reach a dead end, with no other choice but to dance with him.

romcom, regency era, enemies2lovers, just cute bickering warnings— not proofread, first time writing this kind of trope pls bear with me. 2.6k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

author's note— I'm back again with another piece ( I'll disappear for a few months after this)! I wrote this exactly on Hee's bday but I only decided to post it now since i didn't really feel satisfied with this when i finished this a few days ago :/ i still don't so I may delete this when I'm in the mood to make changes ^_^ BUT HERE IT IS!! Happy belated birthday to my hubby wubby @Heeseung 😅❤️❤️

perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon

"Would you be so kind and get that for me?"

Oh how annoying. You thought, gently tricking your finger up to block your ears and releasing in an instant, wanting the bothering itchiness to fade. His arms stretched beside you reaching to the the man holding a tray with glasses of wine.

Oh how you knew he did it intentionally.

Heeseung's boldness to give you an order was extraordinary, baffling even. You were not in a higher position than him, and he wasn't much higher than you, though he was just there, and heeseung didn't want to play the "he was just there" role in your life. He always feels the need to spite you at any given time, similar to a cricket making noises while you attempt to sleep.

Though much to his dismay, you certainly do show his own place as just a nobody in your existence; to which he never seems to catch the hint of your unintrestment.

Or he might do, only walking in and out of your life in terms of spitting utter nonsense to your peace.

Honestly, it did work. It made you fume and it certainly made you want to do more than just give out the usual glare and other threatening expressions to the other.

You turn around with utter confidence, meeting the man's eyes unbothered. Your eyes observed his structure, his unfortunately dashing attire, and his pretentious face.

As you check out the details of his sleeves, your eyes darted to Heeseung's exact shift of expression, smirking.

It was certainly expected, yet so mind flaming. You'd rather just explode right then and there than to keep up with whatever he wants to pull to you.

"You know, if a lady looks at someone from head to toe for too long it must mean that they yearn for that someone." He lets out a prideful scoff, eyes mockingly going through you as he sips from the wine glass.

Disbelief in what you heard, you halted your eyes from any further notice. Proceeding to roll your eyes at the man who had unknowingly tinted your cheeks red.

"Don't be silly, I was looking at your outfit. Actually baffling but not surprising for you to wear something so… Eye-vomiting." you spit. Twirling against his view and proceeding to waltz away from his standing figure, not setting a single glance at the man behind you. A fuming smoke sets up your chest at the realization of what you had just done to that awful of a man.

You explore more of the manor by yourself, enthralled by every piece of art plastered on the clean walls. You found an inner piece at the volume of the hallway, no noble bands performing and people crowding the room as they tap their feets and hearts out, it is truly a wonder to feel.

"Lady Y/N!"

Of course, every pinch of euphoria has their cut to its end, as one of your acquaintances calls you out.

"Oh, Lady… Lily? Was it?" You asked softly and loudly, as the woman clicked her heels towards you.

The girl smiles, "Oh yes! Though please, just call me Li."

"Alright, Lady Li."

…

For moments to what felt like hours, chit-chatting with Lady Li as you both walk around the manor corridors. The both of you had now reached your very destination which was the party itself that you so desperately want to be separated with.

You timidly smile at the girl beside you, eyes widened agitatedly at the crowd. "Uhm, Lady Li," The other nodded, her eyes also seemed to be searching through the sea of nobles.

"Why did we decide to return to this room?"

Lily simpers her smile as her eyes turn fixated on one figure, "There he is!— Thank you so much Lady Y/N for keeping me company through the manor." She gives you thanks, walking away with delight eventually linking arms with a man who Lady Li might have been searching for. great.

Another woman infested with men's validation, how unfortunate.

Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the couple in disbelief, letting out a brief sigh at the thought of almost every woman here might be just like that.

"Feeling all bitter now, are we Lady Y/N?", you trembled at the sensation of his teasing breath tickling your ear.

"What on— oh... it's you again."

"The one and only." Heeseung lets out a ridiculous triumphant smile, the smile that makes you feel itchy in all aspects of your body, it was extremely bothersome reaching to the point you would rip your hair out to the unspeakable rage you feel for the male.

"Don't make that face now, a real lady doesn't do that, well— that is, if you are even a lady." He chuckled, always digging deeper into your little actions in an attempt to reach you to the edge. How delightful.

"Your words remind me so much of my younger brother's pitiful counters." You face the opposite once more, your heartbeat slowing down at each step you take far from Heeseung, hoping to have a similar instance from earlier to happen once more.

Unfortunately, the things one desires don't really happen twice. As you hear the footsteps of the man through the crowded noise, the only shattered expectation you wish did not.

"Oh so I remind you of your family now? How thoughtful." His smirk added to his audacious response that could be sensed at such a distance you didn't even know was possible without even taking another look.

"It means you're just as annoying as my brother, don't take it as a compliment."

"I presume older sisters still love their annoying brothers nevertheless, so that must mean you secretly feel that way for me too if I remind you so much of your annoying brother."

"Oh how great, you can go stay in your own personal pride zone Mr. Lee, though that zone, will tell you to cut it out very soon."

"I doubt that, I think I can sense what's true and not true."

"Being ever so ethical now, aren't you?"

"You know what they say… I am that of a gentleman."

"Well so ethical now anymore, 'cause, you see… you claim to be a gentleman which in fact is ridiculously wrong, no, you're not a gentleman."

"Okay lady, I figured that was a mouthful to sneer."

Your eyes widened, subconsciously sighing aggravatingly, utterly lost of the others' words. "Please don't follow me."

"I'm not following you."

"You are? Don't make me feel stupid."

"I don't think I'm doing that."

You continued to walk further and further, you don't know where, it could be just anywhere to be out of this man's grasp.

not even reaching an uncomfortable minute of making your way, Heeseung finally made it way up to you for god-know-what reason.

Only a few more threads left to untangle until you implode, besides showing this man what you're capable of doing, you weren't about to do anything in front of hundreds of people.

You swiftly turn to face the man following, "Look Mr. Lee, don't even attempt to come and step closer—" the hissy grin never ever fading from his look. Before you snap even further, you raise your head as the lights suddenly turn dim, the current music start to tone down as the band plays a new mellow romance.

The both of you faced your worries, silently questioning the sudden change of atmosphere.

"Now, it is time for the party where the gentleman… dances with the first lady they set their eyes on, Amuse-toi bien!"

…

His eyes were on you, and yours on him. Slowly developing the idea you most certainly would refuse to believe.

"No." You shook your head promptly with no hesitation.

"Y/N."

"No, don't even"

"Y/N—"

"No. Not ever. Never in my life. Never in a millennia. You can serve the mediocrity of mediocrity— I am not even paying attention to what I'm saying, but just so you know, I am not dancing with you."

You groaned continuously at his spews, this chit chatter going nowhere at all. Heeseung was also growing exhausted of your opposed responses. Hearing your never ending hatred for him is never known to him, although being in this position during an all rounded dance segment, he was not about to embarrass himself in front of such nobilities.

"Y/N just—" His hand abruptly slid up your waist sending your internal nerves through every stage of shockwaves.

"What are you—" Your words began to halt from his tightened grip, slowly putting power on pulling you closer… and closer… too close to say the least.

"Just this once, we don't want to leave a bad impression at a party we're just mere visitors at." His breath fanned your neck and sent shivers down your spine. Truly a feeling between his embrace that you have never felt before.

Too much of a guilt to even feel, considering this is the man you swore your whole life to loath yet here you are. No other way of escape out of this man's grasp, other than to spend a minute and more with him following the melodious rhythm serenading within the whole room.

"Fine. This doesn't change the fact that I want to scar my name on your face."

"How romantic." His lips curved sarcastically, eyes shifts into pure mockery as it lays on you. You couldn't say if you were teased by his softly menacing gaze or comforted by it. Eitherway, you couldn't register the right words.

"Besides," Heeseung continues, eyes darting away from yours, looking elsewhere within the ballroom, suddenly a light flashes your vision, snapping you back to your current position, right in front of Lee Heeseung.

"I don't even think we could get away from this anyway, we're literally in the middle of the dance floor." His head shifts in every direction to deem his assumption correct, which you mirrored.

It's true, the both of your are really in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt blockage on your throat, as if your vocal chords refused to spit words out of your mouth. The close proximity between you and Heeseung felt extremely new, you wanted to escape it so quickly yet, quite in a state of culture shock of his careful and kind demeanor as his every step to the rhythm of the music are seemingly careful not to make a mistake or you could say in other words, step on you.

The distance soothes, your hands still intact as the both of you walk in circles. His gaze locked onto you as if a man had seen the beauty of the moon for the very first time. He was allured, not only to the sight of your eyes but also your entire attire.

Who was he kidding? He was making fun of how you looked earlier, or was it you who taunted his? Even he couldn't remember. What is this contact causing him?

His eyes followed the direction of your eyes shifting all the way to your linked hands rising, following the rhythm and everyone else's. Only then Heeseung was able to return to his composure.

Being quiet with you didn't exactly make him feel like himself. It's indeed a peculiar case, his eyes fixated on your focused figure attempting for a thought, any words, any attacks, frankly quite anything.

"I feel conceived Lady Y/N," He started, your eyes now transferring to the man.

"Did you walk all the way here on purpose just to lure me in this dance?" He smirks, deeply hoping he did not look ridiculous in your eyes, which in fact, he did look ridiculous to you, though in basic sense, he always does.

You scoffed, "Don't be such a crude, I was walking away from you, or if you didn't understand that, I was escaping you. however, you followed me. If anything, you expected this dance to happen beforehand." You sneered at your words, feeling vastly proud of regaining the upper hand.

"Now now, shifting the blame onto me?" He jokingly asked, swaying forward and backward, then continuing to circle in unison.

"Well, I couldn't be wrong." Your raised your brows at the man, receiving a tuneful chuckle.

"You're ever so ethical now aren't you?"

you scoffed, "Touché."

After a few warm-hearted rhythms, the distance slowly basking in, his hand starts to tenderly slide from your hand up to your shoulder. Now facing your back at a dangerously close proximity. The way his fingertips barely made contact onto your skin yet it still tickled, sending you into unreasonable wonders.

Lee Heeseung? Sending you to unreasonable wonders?

"What if I tell you that I really expected this dance to happen and followed you to be able to have this dance with you?" he breathes out.

Your mind stood place, frozen. It couldn't function solely because of those words.

You knew this was his tactic of his obvious teasing yet... that had sent your heart into places you did not expect for it to reach. Your breathing abruptly stopping at every emphasis you place into his words.

It wasn't any different for the man, he was hellishly anxious.

The way his hand stood still on your shoulder, then slowly sliding it down to your hand the same thing he had done at the start. He felt crazy, he couldn't grasp the feeling whether he's disgusted at this contact or was it, satisfactory?

Heeseung's breath unawaringly hitched in unison to yours.

The high-rising tension the both of you are desperate to escape yet… would embrace it more long.

As Heeseung's hand reached your hand, the distance once more soothes, or did soothe for you? Did it to him?

One spin had the same closeness return, now you two are entirely facing each other.

How did this moment feel too slow? normally the dance routine did not walk this type of pace before, usually it happens quickly before the music finally comes to its end.

The silence echoed immediately through the other's ears, having the slight worry of gkving you discomfort.

Worried? Heeseung, really?

Heeseung lets himself battle his own internal conflicts as the outer silence continued. You were in a desperate measure of developing a genius idea for a comeback yet none came into mind. The unexplained whimsical threw you off, the fact this man had to send you in this type of frenzy was never in your lists of expectations.

Yet now, at this very moment, changed your very view on your surroundings.

All because of this very man you swore to loath ever since his eyes laid on you.

One last twirl to the maiden as the band's instruments faded into the void, completing the romantic waltz.

As everyone in the middle applauded their elegant and coordinated routine just now, both you and heeseung processed your breathledd tension just earlier.

Finally having all the words reached the right parts of your brain, finally having control of your conscious, your hatred to the man came back with it.

"Aww, you really do feel deep adoration for me, Lee Heeseung." you politely curtsied. contrasting to the tone of your voice, as you reply to the man's words from a few minutes back.

Heeseung lets out a chuckle, "You know what? Maybe I do have a thing for such abominations."

"Haha. Aren't you a clever guy." You gave him a wide infuriating smile, as you turn around walking away from his presence, now leaving the man at the middle of the dance floor.

It was a peculiar state for you. You swore you completely lie instense hatred for the man, yet now you're smiling at his mere words that usually drives you to banging your head on the wall, sometimes the urge to bang his head on the wall.

Yet what happened just earlier felt, extremely out of place, something you couldn't quite explain for the time being.

You were conflicted about being bothered by it.

How it bothered your feelings, bothered you deeply.

A memory that surely the both of you would engrave in later lifetime.

...

"Wow, she called me clever."

#enhanet #enhypenwriters #k labels #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Garden of Secrets [27] - Wolfsbane

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Some surprises carry bad news.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, slow burn.

Word Count: 3300

Series Masterlist

To be completely honest, you weren’t the biggest admirer of weddings.

Up until very recently, they had only served as a reminder that you would have go through the same thing one day, and that always managed to make you feel breathless, tension filling your whole system.

But ever since you married Benedict, you had been surprising even yourself.

“My lady?”

You could tell Benedict was grinning from the tone of his voice and you jumped on your feet to steal a look at the closed door, then turned to Paula.

“You may leave Paula thank you—Come in Benedict!”

Paula opened the door to step outside and Benedict entered the room, stopping dead in his tracks the moment his gaze fell on you. You blinked a couple of times, trying to pull yourself together to not gawk at how handsome he looked, and he let out a breath, staring at you in silence for a couple of seconds.

“You are a vision,” he said softly and you tilted your head, shooting him a mischievous smile.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re an artist then,” you said airily and sat back down in front of your vanity, still smiling. “You look very handsome yourself.”

He gave you that lopsided grin. “Ready for the wedding?”

“Almost,” you said, holding up a pair of earrings before putting them down to grab another pair. “So the chapel first, then the breakfast?”

“Mm hm. But I’m guessing the breakfast will take some time.”

“I could always pass out if we get too bored,” you joked, your eyes finding his in the mirror. “That was what cut our wedding breakfast rather short for other guests.”

“I’m not opposed to that idea at all,” Benedict joked back and you turned to him, holding the bracelet over your wrist.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he said quickly and came closer to you to take the bracelet from you, then crouched down to get to your level. He clasped it over your wrist, his fingertips waking fire underneath your skin before he pulled his hand back as you nibbled on your lip.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

A smile warmed your face, excitement rushing through you and without so much as a thought you reached out to fix his cravat, your heart skipping a beat as soon as your gaze met his.

“It was um— it looks better now,” you stammered, retrieving your hand and shifting your weight. “Do you like weddings?”

Benedict paused, then shrugged. “I don’t really care for them.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because everyone says weddings are a celebration of love,” you said, motioning at him. “And I’ve never met anyone who worships love more than you. I mean you could compete with Bess and win, that’s saying something.”

“That’s interesting, Josie doesn’t strike me as a romantic person.”

“She’s not,” you said with a scoff. “Bess is romantic enough for both of them.”

“Hate for romance runs in the family then?”

You pulled your brows together. “I don’t hate romance.”

“Heavily dislike romance?” he tried again and you shot him a look.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve recently realized I don’t necessarily mind it,” you admitted with your nose in the air. “On certain, special and very, very, very rare occasions.”

Benedict leaned in slightly, tilting his head to pretend he couldn’t hear you. “Just so I’m clear, how rare?”

“Very rare!”

His laughter was like a melody in your ears but you scrunched up your nose at him, painfully aware of the smile curling your lips as well.

“We should go,” you said with a sigh. “We can’t be late to…celebrate love and all that nonsense.”

“Very romantic.”

“Always am,” you joked back and he straightened his back, then offered you his hand. You took it, your stomach doing a happy flip as you looked up at him.

“Well then,” you said. “Let’s go and celebrate.”

As usual, only the family was in the chapel and Daphne looked very happy, albeit nervous. When you and the rest of the family went back to the Bridgerton House, both she and Simon were surrounded by many guests who were incredibly eager to offer them their congratulations. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daphne frowning at something her mother said before following her out of the room and you raised your brows.

Ah.

The wedding night talk.

At least you were certain Daphne and Simon were going to consummate their wedding, unlike you and Benedict. At first you were very glad about that but now…

Well, you’d had a change of heart on that issue.

“…I just remember being absolutely famished,” your uncle’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you tried to pay attention to the conversation. “Everyone except the groom and the bride eats at these things.”

“Probably because they’re busy thanking everyone for their good wishes,” Josie pointed out while Teddy ran around with Gregory, Hyacinth and Lottie’s siblings, giggling. “I’m so glad I didn’t go through this to be honest.”

“Because you eloped, Josie,” your aunt said and pressed a hand on her chest. “I wish we could have been there.”

“I’m sure we could throw a dinner party on your anniversary?” your uncle joked and Josie shook her head fervently.

“I’m not the biggest admirer of the ton uncle, you know that.”

“What, with your cheerful attitude? I do not believe it.”

You let out a laugh and turned your head when you heard your name being called, Lottie waving at you.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and walked to her, giving her a smile. “Hello Lottie.”

“Hey!” she said. “I could barely talk to you at the chapel.”

“Because Anthony has been hoarding you like a dragon with his treasure,” you pointed out, making her giggle.

“Well he is with Benny and Colin now,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to apologize, I promise,” you said. “So I take it this is a nice practice for you?”

“Hm?”

“For when you and Anthony get married?”

“Oh I—” she stammered, a happy smiling curling her lips. “I do not want to assume—”

“Lottie. Please,” you said. “You know it as well as I do that he’s more than ready, considering he has been in love with you for a while.”

An excited giggle escaped from her.

“I still cannot believe it,” she whispered. “I fear I’m in a dream.”

“The possibility of spending the rest of my life with Anthony would be my nightmare but I suppose it’s different for you,” you deadpanned and she bit on her lip.

“Nothing would make me happier,” she admitted, making you smile and roll your eyes playfully. “No really! I only wish he feels the same.”

“He does,” you said. “He’s only waiting for things to get calmer I guess, you know first Benedict’s marriage, now Daphne’s…”

“Oh I would wait for him for a hundred years,” Charlotte said. “I do not mind as long as he loves me.”

You made a face. “In love people never fail to surprise me.”

“You’re in love with Benny!”

“Why does everyone keep reminding me that?” you asked back, making her laugh. “I’ve been nothing but nice to all of you—”

“Y/N?” you heard Daphne’s voice interrupting you and both you and Charlotte turned to her.

“Hello Daph,” you said. “Congratulations again.”

“I’m so happy for you Daphne!”

“Thank you, both of you,” she said with a nervous smile. “Lottie, do you mind if I steal her for a moment?”

“Oh not at all,” she said. “I’ll go and find my siblings, they’re all over the house, I need to make sure they don’t break anything.”

“It’s alright if they did,” Daphne assured her and pulled you towards the foyer so that you and she could walk out of the house and into the yard.

“What’s happening?” you asked, confusion apparent in your tone and she took a deep breath, then turned to you.

“I must ask you a question.”

“Sure.”

“About the wedding night.”

Oh God damn it.

On one hand, it made sense that she would ask you, considering you two were friends and you had married into her family, not to mention everyone was convinced you and Benedict were madly in love.

On the other hand, unlike her wedding night, yours wasn’t happening in the foreseeable future.

Daphne seemed to have interpreted the look of fright on your face as discomfort because she quickly flailed her hands, shaking her head.

“I know you’re married to my brother,” she said. “And it must be very uncomfortable for you and trust me, it is for me as well, I recognize how unconventional it is.”

“…Right,” you said. “Uh huh. That’s the—that’s the reason, yes.”

“But my mama talked to me,” she said. “Not in a detailed way, she merely…she got embarrassed and I’m not quite certain I understood it all and you’re the only person in here who is both married and my friend.”

You blinked a couple of times and offered her a soft smile.

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath and looked around, then leaned in closer.

“Simon and I…we kissed before,” she whispered and you repressed a laugh.

“Oh really?”

“And before you judge me—”

“I couldn’t judge you if I tried, it would be quite hypocritical of me,” you said. “Considering I did the same.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, you and Benedict kissed before your wedding?”

The memory was more than enough to send a fire through your veins, desire clouding your mind for a moment before you cleared your throat, then nodded.

“Mm hm.”

Daphne’s cheeks reddened.

“So when Simon kisses me, I really—I really like it,” she said and you tilted your head.

“That’s a good sign.”

“But after this conversation I just had, I must at least have an idea of…” she trailed off and looked you in the eye. “Please be honest with me. Is it pleasant?”

Oh, that��

Well, you’d had the same worries, and to be honest you still had your doubts about that but you couldn’t just tell her that. Your aunt had assured you it was pleasant, and that conversation you had with Benedict in the art room in this very house echoed in your ears;

“All poets say it’s perfection with the person you love.”

“And what do the artists say?”

You bit down on your lip, trying to focus.

“It’s…” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “Are you in love with him?”

“With my whole heart.”

You offered her a small smile.

“Then it won’t be just pleasant, Daph,” you said. “It’s going to be divine.”

She let out a relieved breath and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said as she pulled back. “You’re a true friend.”

You waved a hand in the air.

“Don’t mention it,” you said and paused for a moment. “I mean it. I don’t want your mother to think badly of me, so don’t.”

She laughed and nodded her head. “Cross my heart.”

“Daphne!”

“That’s your cue,” you said as you stole a look at the wedding guests in the yard, one of them waving at her. She heaved a sigh.

“I will see you later?”

“Absolutely,” you said and watched her walk away from you to the guests. You smiled to yourself, then went back to the house, looking around for Teddy but he was nowhere to be seen. You frowned slightly, then made your way to Benedict who was in a conversation with Lucy and Henry.

“Hello there,” you said, smiling at them and turning to Benedict. “Have you seen Teddy?”

“Uh yeah, he’s in the kitchens with Hyacinth and Greg and Charlie’s siblings.”

“In the kitchens?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yeah there’s more cake there.”

You blinked a couple of times. “He already had two slices.”

Benedict looked almost abashed for a moment and cleared his throat.

“He asked me if he could have another slice and I said yes.”

Your jaw dropped. “Benedict!”

“In my defense, he said please—”

“You do realize that he’s going to have a stomachache and not going to eat lunch after this?”

“Darling I don’t think you’re listening to me, he said please.”

“You two are going to make fun parents,” Henry said with a laugh and both you and Benedict turned to look at him, your eyes widening. Lucy elbowed Henry with a smile.

“Don’t.”

“What? They’re already acting like parents and it’s only a matter of time.” he said, still grinning and you and Benedict exchanged glances, then averted your eyes from each other.

“I’m just— I’ll go and find him to check if he’s alright,” you stammered and Benedict nodded fervently.

“Yeah I’ll help you,” he said and quickly followed you as you walked away from them. You cleared your throat and made your way to the stairs with Benedict who let out a chuckle, making you look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” he trailed off. “To think they believe that…”

“Not that surprising,” you pointed out. “You know what the ton is like, at least Henry is actually saying it rather than implying it.”

“Seriously?”

“I’d say we have like a couple of months until people start throwing us baby names—” you paused for a moment, tension making your stomach flip. “Benedict, should we talk about this?”

His eyes searched your face, and he seemed to have noticed the look of absolute nervousness on your face before he took a deep breath.

“About baby names?” he joked and you felt a smile curl your lips.

Alright then, maybe you wouldn’t talk about it just yet.

You were fine with that.

“Yeah,” you said. “About baby names, obviously.”

“Not really,” he said. “I mean if someone tries to give us suggestions, we can just tell them we already have an idea.”

“Do we?”

He nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I for one think it’s quite clear that we should name the baby Nonexistent.”

You stared up at him for a second before a laugh escaped from your lips and you pushed at his arm.

“No?” he said, grinning. “Come on, it’s a family name.”

“Nonexistent Bridgerton,” you mused and looked over your shoulder as you made your way down the stairs. “Yeah, it has a nice ring to it.”

“See?” he asked with a laugh as he followed you. “I knew you would like it.”

Benedict was rather busy in his studio the next day throughout the morning, so you decided not to disturb him and instead meet with Josie to pay a visit to your uncle and aunt. It had been a while you dropped by the house, and you wanted to see what your garden was doing as well.

You were beginning to think that perhaps you could start working on your garden back home as well.

And perhaps you could even go into the greenhouse to see what was in it and work on it as well.

“Anyway, Andrew keeps talking about Felix,” Josie said as the carriage went down the road, the noises of the busy streets reaching inside. “And he seems rather sweet.”

“He is,” you said. “I always have much more fun at the parties if he’s attending as well.”

“Not with your husband?” Josie shot you a grin and you rolled your eyes at her.

“My husband is too talented,” you said, slightly aware of the proud tone in your voice. “So he keeps getting dragged away from me, by one person or another. Considering all the people attending the parties is the art circle…”

Josie hummed. “And how bizarre are they?”

“The parties or the people?”

“Both.”

You thought for a moment.

“Mostly very much fun and nice,” you said. “There are some…bizarre ones though. Why? Do you want to attend as well?”

“God no,” she said. “That’s not my crowd, sounds like too many people. Perhaps I might attend when you host one though.”

You pulled your brows together. “What?”

“Yeah I mean, will you not?” she asked. “You and Benedict are married, you get along well with his friends, not to mention you’ve just said you have fun in those. It only makes sense if you eventually hosted a party for that art circle as well.”

You blinked a couple of times, deep in thought.

“The idea hadn’t struck me until you mentioned it,” you admitted. “But yes, I suppose I could.”

“There you go,” she said when the carriage came to a stop, and you stepped outside after her, the coachman helping you both.

“Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am.”

You could hear Teddy’s happy chattering as you approached the house, so you went straight to backyard, passing by the house with Josie and Teddy let out a happy squeal the minute he saw you.

“Y/N! Josie!”

“Hello my sweet,” you said, crouching down as he started running to you, then flung himself into your arms. “How are you?”

“I’m well!” he said as he hugged Josie as well while you straightened your back. “I was just telling Mary how I’m going to be a sculptor!”

You smiled at the maid. “Hello Marry.”

“Hello ma’am.”

“Where is auntie, Teddy?”

“Um—she sent me outside to play,” he said, making you frown slightly. “Grown up business with uncle, she said.”

You and Josie exchanged glances and you turned to Mary.

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“I do not, ma’am,” Mary said, “Lord and Lady Thorne seemed in haste.”

“Josie, did I show you my sculpture? The one I made with Benedict?”

Josie managed to smile at him. “Not at all dearest, where is it?”

“Over here, come!” he grabbed her by the hand to pull her towards the picnic cloth under the tree, and you could already see a bunch of toys along with the small sculpture there.

“I’ll just see what this is about,” you told Josie and walked to the house to climb up the marble stairs, and passed through the front door. You walked into the foyer, trying to hear your aunt’s or uncle’s voice but all you could pick up was the occasional conversations of the maids as they walked in the upstairs hallway.

You hummed to yourself and decided to check your uncle’s study, but as you were passing by the small table in the foyer, a half-ripped envelope caught your eye and you stopped dead in your tracks, tilting your head to the left.

Your uncle never left envelopes around, he always opened them in his study or the drawing room.

You reached out to grab the envelope and turned it over to see who it was from but the second your eyes fell on the name, your breath got caught in your throat, the whole foyer spinning around you. You stared at the empty envelope, -no doubt the letter was with your uncle-, trying to fix your breathing, that familiar panic poisoning your system, running through your veins.

“You couldn’t find them?” Teddy’s voice reached you along with Josie’s heels echoing in the foyer but you couldn’t even raise your head from the envelope in your hands, fear gripping your heart so tight that your chest started to hurt.

“Y/N?” you heard Josie’s voice as you dug your fingernails into your palm, tears of absolute terror burning your eyes but you tried to blink them back, clenching your teeth.

“They are probably in uncle’s study, I will get them!” Teddy said, still too excited to notice how frozen you were and ran past you to uncle’s study while Josie touched your arm.

“Hey,” she said, “Are you alright? What is that?”

You swallowed thickly and looked up at her, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your wrist.

“It’s a letter,” you managed to say, “From father.”

Chapter 28

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic #garden of secrets

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hummingbird-games · 11 months ago

Text

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss 🥹if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

#gaming year in review #gamedev rambles #yeah no I cannot keep creating more work for me #2024 I am GOING to make a shorter list 😭🤧#hmmmm fun drinking game:#take a shot every time the word 'mystery' is used ☠️

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bethanydelleman · 7 months ago

Note

Pssstt what do you think of Eloise Bridgerton?

Lots of people seem to love her and her outspokenness and I understand that the show is a very fictional very fanfiction fiction set in a very fanfiction-y Regency era and her dissatisfaction of her life as a woman is justified

But

Am I the only one who distastes her attitude? She's rude. She doesn't care about other people's feelings, not even her own mother or her sister, Daphne who yes has very different views about marriage compared to her but I think most of the time Daphne is nice towards her and all that she can spout is how she's Different and she doesn't want to marry that men had it so much better than women. It's giving very condescending energy

She's not wrong about the unfairness of women's situation but she's also a higher rank woman and it's just....*frustrated noise, I wish she's written for the show as less of a child who has just learned of the phrase 'women's right' who's made it their entire personality and more of a person who's conscious of the differences in privilege between men and women and tries to change that, emphasize in 'tries' instead of whatever she's supposed to be- whiny and rude

If she's the face of women's right movement, I'll be fine with it, but it's also very annoying

Am I just weird for not liking her because she actually has some really good points? Idk

I find Eloise Bridgerton incredibly annoying and I'm not sure if the show is self-aware enough to know that they made her extremely irritating. And this also comes back to my girl sad about arranged marriage post... Caveat that it's been a while since I watched S1 & S2 of Bridgerton and I won't be watching 3 because I hated 2.

Eloise sounds and acts like an incredibly entitled university student who has never had a paying job. The stuff she says is "right" in a modern sense, or at least takes a modern perspective when it comes to women's rights, but it sounds canned given the imagined era. The big problem is that as far as I remember, Eloise only cares about women, mostly herself, and not about class. Her discovery during her investigation that servants don't have the time to publish a paper could have led to her realizing something, but it didn't. She whines about her "plight" but doesn't seem to have any real compassion for frankly anyone. It's an entirely selfish one woman campaign.

The fact is, Eloise comes from a very rich family and her siblings are very kind, she doesn't have to marry. If she is like any Jane Austen heroine, it's Emma. Austen made Emma sympathetic by showing an Emma who doesn't whine at all, but suffers from the weight of her duty and limited options. Jane Fairfax was the one who very occasionally complained about her lot in life, and her future was bleak. Being a governess sucked and was usually a dead-end job that required a ton of work.

Eloise could have been great. They could have put the words of real women's rights activists from her time period in her mouth, like Mary Wollstonecraft. They could have even borrowed from Jane Austen, who has many women beg to be regarded as "rational creatures" who know their own hearts. Instead, she feels like a hollow shell of empty rhetoric, a petulant child with no compassion for anyone but herself, and a mouthpiece of hackneyed modern sentiments.

So yeah I'm with you.

#question response #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #I know it's imagined but at least give this character some compassion #and if you are going to imagine have her angry for the poor too

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rynnthefangirl · 3 months ago

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Thoughts on Aegon III, his character flaws, and his relationships with Viserys and Daenaera:

(Note: this is all just my personal headcanon and interpretations. You may disagree, and that’s totally fine. There’s a lot of leeway in how to read these characters given the lack of POV stories and info on the post-Regency years.)

So, first to be clear— I love, love, love Aegon III. He’s my favorite Targaryen, I think he is a good man and a good king, and I empathize with his situation a lot. But it’s interesting to consider the darker side of his relationships, and how his experiences in the Dance affect his ability to connect with others. He’s such a fascinating character, and while I like the fluff of his family dynamic (and think there was a lot of mutual love there, with his siblings, Daenaera, and his kids), I love all the rich angst there is to read into it as well.

So that being said, in my opinion Aegon’s greatest flaw (at least when it comes to his personal relationships) is his lack of consideration and understanding for the emotions of others. Not a lack of care— Aegon cares deeply and wishes for his loved ones to be safe and happy— but rather a failure to recognize others’ emotional needs. I think this results from Aegon drawing a false dichotomy between himself and others. Aegon suffers from PTSD and depression, but he lives in a world that lacks the support or even the terminology help him understand and process his mental health issues. As such, he considers himself to simply be a broken individual. He is broken, while others are whole. And so in Aegon’s mind, everyone else is far happier, more put together, and more resilient than he is. Which, to be fair, is not entirely inaccurate, but I think this manifests as Aegon assuming that what people appear to be on the surface is how they truly are. He never smiles unless he is happy— so anytime anyone smiles, he assumes they are happy. If he is struggling, he shows it, through retreating into himself, hiding in his chambers, anger, panic attacks, etc— so if someone isn’t showing such behaviors, he takes it to mean they aren’t struggling. Aegon may understand in his head that people can put on an appearance, but I think he still underestimates to what extent that can hide their true feelings.

As such, I think Aegon is a man who is not in tune with the needs of people around him. He is very much centered around himself and his own emotions. This can lead to him being very casually cold or cruel without realizing it. Of course, when it comes to people not in his inner circle, he simply does not care— he knew he was being rude in his dismissal of Torrhen Manderly, that he’s cold to the lords of his court, but their feelings don’t matter to him, as long as they do their duties to the realm. But I think this can also leak into the way he interacts with the people he does love and care for— his siblings, his wife, his children. Aegon does not wish to cause them any hurt, and is quick to apologize, take accountability, and attempt to do better if someone tells him that he did something to upset them. But that’s the thing — you have to tell him. Because Aegon oftentimes will not realize on his own.

While both Viserys and Daenaera understand this about Aegon, Viserys has a much easier time dealing with it. This is due both to their personalities but also how they are raised.

Viserys is a very practical and assertive man. During his time in Lys, he had to grow up fast in an attempt to earn the respect of the Rogarres and older wife Larra, who was a very judgemental young woman. He did not wish to be seen as a sullen or emotional child, but rather a proper mature husband. So he learned not to take things personally, to be very direct with his thoughts, and above all to not be needy. As such, he has an easy time applying these traits to his relationship with his brother. If Aegon does something that bothers him, he will simply tell him, and Aegon is pretty good about apologizing and at least temporarily changing his behavior. Knowing this, Viserys is not sensitive to Aegon’s unconscious cruelty or casual indifference, often time just brushing it off as Aegon’s nature and not something to be offended by.

Daenaera on the other hand, was taught since she was a little girl that it is her job to care for and support the king. As a woman, she is expected to do the emotional labor of her marriage. This isn’t an expectation that was placed upon her by Aegon, but rather by the sexist and patriarchal society in which she was raised. While all women in Westeros face such an expectation, this is especially true of a woman who was Queen since age 6. She also is naturally a more sensitive and gentle individual than her brother-in-law. As such, while Daenaera knows that the best way to deal with Aegon is to simply be direct and forcefully honest, she really struggles to do so. She has been taught to suppress her emotional needs and to not put such burdens on her lord husband. With another more emotionally intelligent husband, this may not have been such an issue. But Aegon being Aegon, will not pick up on or give thought to her needs, and Daenaera feels she should not bother him with them. This is the biggest divide in their marriage, and Daenaera often feels resentment towards Aegon for not being anywhere near as present and attentive towards her as she is towards him. She feels guilty for this as well, thinking it unfair of her to hold resentment towards Aegon when she has not properly communicated with him. She also sometimes feels selfish, since her own issues and traumas are so minor compared to Aegon’s. (To be clear, this is how Daenaera feels about herself thanks to the gender roles of her society, not how I feel about her).

(Though, one area where this isn't an issue is when it comes to intimacy-- as someone who is extremely touch averse himself, Aegon is very cognizant of any indication of discomfort from Daenaera).

The issue has been brought up to Aegon, demurely by Daenaera and more forcefully by Viserys. And for a time, Aegon does try to be more attentive to his wife’s emotions… but eventually falls back into his old ways. In truth, Aegon does not see why it is an issue— to him, if he upsets Daenaera or she wishes something from him, she need only tell him and he will oblige. Same with the others in his life. He feels it is difficult enough for him to deal with his own issues and emotions, and he cannot be expected to also constantly interpret and deal with those of everyone around him. (Aegon does not realize to what extent Daenaera has always done this for him).

Anyway, those are some of my thoughts. I think the relationship of these three is so interesting, because there is no "bad guy" in any of this. Everyone is coming from an understandable place, everyone is trying and cares for each other. But they are all victims of their circumstances and the society they live it. Aegon was put through horribly traumatic experiences and is left to try to deal with the mental effect this has had on him, with no real understanding or guidance. Daenaera was married off at age six, taught by her society to play the dutiful wife and put her husbands heavy emotional needs before her own without complaint. Viserys may deal well with being a source of support for Aegon, but he is not superman-- he's running the realm, trying to help his brother, raising his children, being the face of the Targaryen dynasty that everyone looks to, trying to save the dragons, being a source of support for Daenaera, keeping the lords of the realm in line, dealing with his own trauma and grief, juggling so many balls that one eventually is going to drop (spoiler: it's his children). These are three kids who were forced to grow up so fast, they've never been able to rely on the adults in their life, their only support and trust is each other. And maybe they don't always handle everything perfectly, but damn they are trying their best. They are always trying their best.

#aegon iii targaryen #viserys targaryen #daenaera velaryon #aegon iii x daenaera #fire and blood #character analysis #love these kiddos so much they are so dear to me #sweet children trying their hardest #fuck the greens fuck unwin peake fuck lysandro rogare

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oprairierose · 7 months ago

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colin’s new personality rakeish personality is not surprising to me at all and it’s something they’ve built up since the beginning

in season 1, after colin announced the engagement to marina, anthony sits him down and is like “you’re an idiot. you don’t know this girl. have you compromised her? this is partly my fault for not encouraging you to sow your wild oats” or whatever and colin’s so offended. because colin’s not like anthony, or most of the men in the ton because colin’s a romantic and truly (naively) believed he loved marina. i don’t think either of them realize how much colin internalizes this conversation with anthony, especially when anthony’s proven right and colin’s left heartbroken

in season 2, colin visits marina because despite everything he cares about her and her well-being. he cares so deeply for people, but this trait oscillates between being good and just being a hero complex. then marina dresses him down, calls him a child too caught up in the past to see what’s right in front of him, and tells him that she has children to protect now. and marina’s right, but it’s like another punch for colin having her tell him so plainly that he’s basically an idiot

in the final episode of season 2 he steps into this savior role with all the bravado of A Man. he feels good about himself for the first time in maybe ages and it’s intoxicating. he saves the featherington’s and will’s club, he hangs out with regency era frat boys who make him feel cool, hell yeah

during his travels he fucks around, sees the world, learns to be Charming. does what is expected of a man. he comes back and basically does more of the same. he’s in toxic masculinity era and it feels good, if not forced. anything is better than allowing himself to be open and vulnerable, because he’s been down that road and it has only ever hurt him

but there’s pen, one of his oldest friends, someone he can be himself around, a woman who is kind and smart and makes him laugh, and the way he feels when he’s with pen only magnifies how lonely he actually is. all they did was kiss but it was the most that he’s felt in months. and kissing pen is better than any sex he’s had because he does care for her. it’s not so much fun anymore to fuck around and hang out with the bros. is this what being A Man is? is being the type of man society expects him to be worth the emptiness he feels? is he willing to throw away the real, fervent feelings he experiences with pen for a life of meaningless experiences?

no, he’s not. he needs pen but by the time he realizes it, she might be engaged to another man

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #luke newton did such a good job

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bridgerton-bard · 9 months ago

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Polin Angst Thoughts

Warning: Spoilers (Romancing Mister Bridgerton, Netflix Season 2)

I have been seeing the online discourse about how much angst people think should be included in the Polin storyline of season three, and I thought I would add my two cents.

Personally, I am a little excited to see the power dynamic in the relationship shift in Penelope's favor. She has spent years pining after this man who has never seriously entertained the idea that she would make a good partner. Maybe she should have moved on when it was clear that Colin didn't reciprocate her romantic feelings, but then we'd never have the Polin story.

I'm not saying I want Colin to suffer for the sake of suffering, but I do think some angst from him is going to be required, because he so thoroughly dismissed the idea of courting Penelope in season two. In real life, if someone dismissed Penelope (or anyone else) in this way, they would need to earn their way back into her heart, to prove that their affections were not part of a cruel joke. It would be unrealistic for Colin to dismiss Penelope as a prospect for courting in such a resounding, public fashion at the end of season two, and then win her back by simply saying "I missed you" at the start of the next social season less than a year later.

Even considering the social mores of the regency time period, I think Penelope unequivocally accepting Colin's "I missed you" as an apology and beginning to court Colin would be unrealistic. Julia Quinn stresses in several of the Bridgerton books that women in the regency period generally had little power in the courting process. Women had to wait for gentlemen to be introduced to them (never introducing themselves to gentlemen they were interested in), women had to accept offers from any man to dance unless their dance card was already full or they were betrothed, etc. In most of the courting process, regency women had to be passive and wait for their desired suitor to approach and court them. Accepting or not accepting offers to court and marriage proposals were the two significant points in the courting process where regency women actually held the upper hand in the dynamics. Penelope making it clear to Colin that she will not court him is simply her exercising what little power she does have in the social mores of the time.

I think one thing that gets glossed over about Colin's behavior towards Penelope in seasons one and two is that it is also the behavior of a rake, but in a different way than Anthony or Benedict's rake behavior. Anthony and Benedict's bachelor periods tend to show them both as rakes because they kept mistresses, visited brothels, or had a parade of women engaged in some sort of fling. Colin's behavior in seasons one and two is rake behavior because it should be clear to everyone, including Colin, that he is leading Penelope on. Without any intention to court her, Colin is impeding Penelope from moving on and finding a suitor who requites her feelings. This does get a little complicated because in the books, it is Violet Bridgerton who is encouraging Colin to dance with Penelope, and Penelope is aware of this or at least suspects it. However, I still argue that just because Colin is not in possession of a parade of flings, it doesn't counteract that some of his behavior towards Penelope is befitting of a rake.

So yes, I do think it's important that we see Colin fight a little for Penelope's affections. It's important for him to realize what he had once she's gone, and that she's worthy of more than always being the backup on call for when he's lonely or feeling misunderstood. I would like to see Colin realize his feelings for Penelope before another suitor proposes to Penelope. Otherwise, I think we get into territory where it just feels like he wants her because he can't have her.

#polin #polin angst #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season three #bridgerton series #romancing mister bridgerton #romancing mr. bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #a theory #ramblings #don't fight me

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elliemarchetti · 5 months ago

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The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition (Part 5)

Posting on Tumblr too because this fic's sister is already there.

Reading The Queen of the Quills - Blackinnon Edition will not be mandatory to understand the developments of James and Lily's story, but some details could be shared, therefore, for anyone wishing to fully enjoy the experience, I will leave this series' masterlist here.

This was @athenasparrow's gift for @jilymicrofics ' Exchange 2024, but if you like it and are willingly to reblog, it would be super appreciated since stories like this require quite some time and effort🥰

Taglist (if anyone wants to be added, please DM me or comment and I'll gladly add you!): @thaisthedreamer

Plot: James Potter, London's most evasive bachelor, an impertinent libertine, has decided to get married. He has also already chosen his wife, the debutante Lily Evans, a self-confident young woman who has not the slightest intention of being seduced by such a man. A Bridgerton inspired Regency AU.

Words: 4093

Mrs. Potter’s musicale proved to be a decidedly musical affair (not, this author assures you, always the norm for musicales). The guest performer was none other than Maria Rosso, an Italian soprano from the all-witch choir known as Spellbound who made their debut in London two years ago and has returned after a brief stint on the Vienna stage. With thick, sable hair and flashing dark eyes, Miss Rosso proved as lovely in form as she did in voice, and more than one, or it would be better to say more than a dozen, of society’s so-called gentleman found it difficult indeed to remove their eyes from her person, even after the performance had concluded.

The Queen of the Quills, May 17, 1813

Lily felt the exact moment he walked in the room. She tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with a heightened awareness of the excruciatingly handsome wizard, she couldn’t imagine that every woman didn’t notice him immediately, and furthermore, he arrived late – not very, but still enough he had to try to be quiet as he slipped into a chair at the front next to Mrs. Evans – still she noticed him before her own mother and sister did, and it rendered her unable to even breathe. He didn’t look her way, but several candles had been snuffed, leaving the room bathed in a dim, romantic glow, so the shadows must’ve obscured her face and the way she tried to keep her eyes on Miss Rosso throughout the performance, even if the woman couldn’t take hers off of Mr. Potter, and for some reasons, it didn’t improve her disposition. She should’ve rejoiced in the fact, it was just another piece of proof he was every bit the licentious rake she’d always known him to be, but she wasn’t feeling smug, or vindicated, she was just heavily, uncomfortably disappointed, so much so she felt herself slump slightly in her chair.

When the performance was done, she couldn’t help but notice how the soprano, after graciously accepting her applause, brazenly approached her suitor and offered him one of those seductive smiles, the sort Lily would never learn to do even if she had a thousand opera singers trying to teach her. There was no mistaking what she meant with that act, and he must’ve realized too, because he threw her a mysterious look and actually tucked an errant lock of her raven hair behind her ear.

Lily shivered in disgust. For Merlin’s beard, the man didn’t even need to chase women, they practically dropped at his feet and whispered sweet nothing in his ears! Maybe she praised him, or maybe she outwardly offered herself, because he leaned down enough to kiss her neck.

“Lily?” hissed her mother, decidedly irritated. “Stop watching Mr. Potter.”

“I wasn’t… well, all right, I was, but did you see him?” she whispered urgently. “He’s shameless.”

She looked back over at him, still flirting with Maria Rosso, no care in the world about who might see.

“I’m sure his behaviour isn’t any of our business,” replied Elizabeth, lips pursed into a tight line. “He has been kind in delivering the invitations to the musicale himself, but I’m certain he wants nothing to do with you after that fiasco in Hyde Park.”

If the situation had been different, Lily would have argued that it wasn't her fault that his dog had pushed her into the water and he jumped in to save her when she was already swimming toward the shore, but she didn't have the energy to argue right now, so she sagged her shoulders and followed her family as they greeted their lovely hostess. Mrs. Potter had fair hair and light eyes, and she was rather petite to have mothered such a large son, so Lily decided her late husband must’ve been a tall man.

“Mrs. Evans,” she said warmly, “what a delight to see you again. I so enjoyed our meeting at the last ball and I must say I’m very glad you decided to accept my invitation.”

“We wouldn’t dream of spending the evening elsewhere,” her mother rejoined. “And may I present you my daughters? The older one is Petunia, and the younger one is Lily.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs. McKinnon’s daughter, Marlene,” she said, motioning to a young lady at her side. For some reason, Lily was convinced she had already met her, but maybe she was just a classmate she had passed a couple of times in the corridors at Hogwarts. After all, Londoners were used to minding their own business there too, and she had no doubt that someone so beautiful and seemingly delicate was constantly surrounded by flocks of other adoring young women. Anyway, Lily smiled warmly at the girl, who looked to be about the same age as her, even though the similarities between them ended here: her blonde hair were a perfectly styled field of lovely golden wheat and her face was angular, a rather sharp contrast with Lily’s roundness.

“Is this your first season?” she asked, already friendly.

Both Lily and Petunia nodded.

“How lucky!” she exclaimed. “I attended a few parties last year and may I say they were a bit… boring? Everything was so new the first time, but by the end of spring I already remembered everyone’s name. This way, I thought I could get an excellent match, but as you may see by yourself, I’m still unmarried.”

As Marlene spoke, Mrs. Evans glanced at her son, who kept flirting madly with the Italian opera singer, and frowned.

Lily felt something very uneasy in her stomach: according to recent issues of The Queen of the Quills, Mrs. Evans was on a mission to get her son married off, and while he didn’t seem the sort of man to bend to his mother’s will, or anyone’s, for the matter, she had a feeling the woman would be able to exert quite a bit of pressure is she so chose. Maybe that was why he was so intent on courting her.

After a few more moments of polite chatter, the Evans left Mrs. Potter to greet the rest of her guests and were soon accosted by Mrs. Bones, who, as the mother of three daughters, two still unmarried, always had a lot to say to Elizabeth – she had long declared herself on a first-name basis with the Evans – although that day her gaze was firmly focused on Lily, who immediately began to assess possible escape routes.

“What a surprise to see you there!” boomed the stout woman, leaving her interlocutor puzzled. “Gossip said you were ill.”

“Don’t worry, it was nothing that serious,” Lily retorted, with a weak smile. How Amelia had managed to become a pleasant person to have around with a family like hers Lily just couldn't explain.

“From what I heard, you contracted it in a rather serious way,” Mrs. Bones added, brows rising a good half inch. It was evident she knew, maybe she was even at the scene, but there was really no need to talk about it at the Potter’s.

“A way of little consequence, as you can see,” Lily countered firmly, although she was finding it difficult not to growl at the meddlesome woman.

Mrs. Bones opened her mouth, a sharp intake of breath telling she was preparing to launch into a lengthy monologue on the topic of the importance of good deportment, or good manners, or good breeding, but her youngest promptly interrupted her, offering to fetch lemonade for everyone.

“Lily, would you be so kind as to help me?” she asked, turning to the one she set out to save. “Unfortunately, I still don’t have enough hands to carry all those glasses.”

Lily tried not to appear too eager to accept, but everyone must’ve noticed their urgency to flee from how quickly they walked away, dodging those present with skill.

“Thank you,” she murmured to her saviour once they reached the lemonade stand and grabbed four glasses, for everyone except Petunia, who said she wasn’t thirsty.

“I know how my mother can be, I’m usually her favourite victim, so since I could avoid you what would’ve sounded like a lecture from an almost stranger, I took advantage of it. I’m sure somehow she would’ve found the opportunity to insert me into the conversation just to define me an impertinent social failure,” replied the other, and although a part of Lily wanted to pity her for that cruel fate – no mother should behave like that with her daughter – another part told her not to do so, because the girl needed an ally, not yet another young lady looking at her like a hopeless cause.

“Can we go back for a glass for ourselves?” asked Amelia as soon as they reunited with their families, and her mother nodded in a matter that told Lily everyone must know her youngest wasn’t her favourite.

“Why don’t we go out for a bit of fresh air? Since we’re together, we don’t need a chaperone,” suggested the redhead, who wanted a little more space to investigate on what the wizarding society really thought of Mr. Potter. Was he a hypocrite? A scoundrel? Or even a liar? Had he by chance deluded women and then abandoned them without any prospect? Did he have bastards? She didn't know why she cared so much, after all he probably believed her a menace to society, or he wouldn’t have acted as he was doing with Miss Rosso, still she needed to know if it was the norm or just a game to get back at her. So she asked, rather forward, as she and her friend sank into a cushioned bench about ten yards from the music room. They remained there for several minutes, more than pleased with the comfortable intimacy of their gossip, until they heard one particular voice rise slightly above the low rumble of the crowd, followed by decidedly musical laughter. After a shared look of realization, they hitched up their skirts by a few inches to save themselves from tripping and ducked into the doorway next to the bench, hoping Mr. Potter and his paramour would walk on by, and they could scoot back into the music room and laugh about their little adventure. As their eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, they realized they were in some sort of office, with walls lined with books, although not enough to be a library, the place dominated by a massive oak desk with papers laid on top of it in neat piles. Clearly the place was lived, not just for show, and as curiosity got the better of them, they wandered toward the desk, Lily running her fingers along the wooden rim. The air still smelled faintly of ink, and maybe the slightest hint of pipe smoke. All in all, she decided, it was a lovely room, comfortable and practical, a place a person could spend hours in lost in lazy contemplation, but just as she was about to lean back against the desk, savouring the quiet solitude exuding from the place, she heard and awful sound. The doorknob clicked, and with a frantic gasp, Amelia disappeared, leaving her with no other option than dive under the desk, squeezing herself into the empty cube of space and thanking the heavens that it was completely solid rather than the short that rested on four spindly legs. Barely breathing, she listened, cursing herself for not taking Apparition class seriously.

“I had heard this would be the year we would finally see the notorious Mr. Potter fall into the parson’s mousetrap,” came a lilting feminine voice. Lily bit her lip, recognizing the Italian accent.

“And where did you hear that?” came James’ unmistakable voice, followed by another awful click of the doorknob that made Lily shut her eyes in agony. She was trapped in the office with a pair of lovers. Life simply couldn’t get any worse than this, unless she was discovered, though it didn’t make her feel much better about her present predicament.

“It’s all over town,” Maria replied. “Everyone is saying you have decided to settle down and choose a bride.”

There was a silence, but Lily could swear she could hear him shrug: “It’s probably past time.”

“You are breaking my heart, did you know?” she asked, making Lily nearly gag.

“Now, my sweet signorina, we both know that your heart is impervious to any of my machinations,” Mr. Potter murmured, and Lily pictured him as close as they were before, his lips nearly on her skin, because next came a rustling sound, which she took to be Maria pulling coyly away to state she wasn’t inclined for a dalliance.

“I don’t look for marriage, of course, that would be most foolish, but when I next choose a protector, it shall be for, shall we say, the long term,” she added, low and husky.

“I fail to see the problem.”

“Your future wife may not.”

“The only reason to give up one’s mistress is if one happens to love one’s wife,” Mr. Potter chuckled. “And as I don’t intend to choose a wife with whom I might fall in love, I see no reason to deny myself the pleasure of a lovely woman like you.”

Lily tried to imagine the reaction of the couple if she jumped out of her hiding place, screaming like a madwoman, asking what made him think she was the right match if that was his plan from the start. It nearly made her laugh, and at the same time she wanted to cry, because there was no way she could make the entrance she wished to make when she was squatting like a frog with her hands wrapped around her ankles. A few unintelligible sounds distracted her from her fantasies, and she dearly prayed they weren’t a prelude to something considerably more intimate. After a moment, though, Mr. Potter’s voice emerged clearly, asking to the singer if she cared for something to drink. Maria murmured her assent, and James’ forceful stride echoed along the floor, growing closer and closer, until he came into view, his athletic frame displayed to surprising benefit from her vantage point on the floor. If he just kept his face to the window as he poured, she might escape detection, but if he turned so much as halfway she would be as good as dead, for she had no doubt he would kill her. Frankly, she was surprised he hadn’t tried last week at the Serpentine.

“Is everything all right?” Maria called out, when Mr. Potter clinked the tumblers slightly together as he set them down before pouring two fingers of amber liquid into each glass.

“Perfect,” he answered, although he sounded vaguely distracted, like a dog sniffing the air around in search of his prey. Maybe that was why Lily froze and stopped breathing completely, eyes wide and unblinking, as he started to hum slightly to himself and his body slowly began to turn.

Keep walking, she screamed in her head, keep walking to your lover and don’t look back.

But it didn't go that way, and she watched with complete and utter horror as his eyes scanned her starting from her shoes and pinned her where she was.

__________________

James knew quite well why he’d brought Maria Rosso back to his study. Surely no warm-blooded man could be immune to the charm of her lush body and her intoxicating voice, and he knew from experience that her touch was equally potent, but even as he took in that silky sable hair and those full, pouting lips, even as his muscles tightened at the memory of other full, pouting parts of her body, he knew he was using her. He felt no guilt in that regard – she was using him as well, and she would at least be compensated for it, whereas he would be out several jewels, a quarterly allowance, and the rent on a fashionable townhouse in a fashionable part of town – no, if he felt uneasy and frustrated, if he felt like he wanted to put his damned fist though a brick wall, it was because he was using Maria to banish the nightmare that Lily Evans was from his mind. He never wanted to wake up hard and tortured again, knowing she was the cause, he just wanted to drown himself in another woman until the very memory of his recurring dream dissolved and faded into nothingness, because Merlin knew he was never going to act on that particular erotic fantasy because he shouldn’t like her like that. The though of making love to her, and not just bedding her, made him break out in a cold sweat, even as it swirled a ripple of desire right through his gut. Bloody hell, the woman must’ve bewitched him, there could be no other explanation for the dream, and besides, even now he could swear he could smell her. It was that maddening combination of lilies and soap, that beguiling scent that had washed over him while they were in Hyde Park.

“Is everything all right?” Maria called out.

“Perfect,” James said, voice sounding tight to his own ears. He began to hum, something he’d always done to relax, and he turned, even started to take a step forward, because after all Miss Rosso was waiting for him, but the damned scent followed him and his foot hesitated in midair, his step forward proved to be a small one instead of his usual long stride, and he kept turning, his nose instinctively twisting his eyes toward where he knew there couldn’t be lilies until he saw her under his desk, crouching like a frog. It was a wonder he didn’t drop the whiskey as their eyes met, and he saw hers widen with panic and fright.

Good, he thought savagely. What the hell was she doing here? Wasn’t making a scene after he doused himself in the filthy water of the Serpentine to rescue her enough for her bloodthirsty spirit? Did she need to spy on him as well?

“Maria,” he said smoothly, moving forward toward the desk until he was nearly stepping on Lily’s hand. “I have suddenly remembered an urgent matter of business that must be dealt with immediately.”

“This very night?” she asked, quite dubious.

“I’m afraid so. Allow me to walk you to the door,” he said, and although the singer’s eyes were curious, she still took his arm and forgave him for his rudeness for not taking her back to the music room.

“I am a grown woman, I believe I can manage the short distance,” she laughed, a low, sultry sound that should’ve seduced him. “And furthermore, I suspect there isn’t a woman alive who could deny you forgiveness with that smile.”

“You are of a rare kind, Maria Rosso,” he replied, hoping she couldn’t feel how far his head was from this conversation. Not too much physically, since Lily was just a few steps away, but metaphorically…

“But not, apparently, rare enough,” she murmured before floating out, finally giving James the possibility to shut the door with a decisive click, turn the key and pocked it. At the sound, Lily crawled out of her hiding place, leaning on the edge of the desk for support, apparently unable to start the much-needed explanation she had to give about her presence.

“Well?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence.

“It was an accident!” she exclaimed. “I was sitting in the hall and I heard you coming. I was just trying to avoid you and your lover, to spare the embarrassment to everyone...”

“So you decided to invade my private office?” he asked, suspicious.

“I didn’t know it was your office. I…” she started, but was unable to finish her sentence, probably intimidated by his deliberate proximity. He could swear he was hearing the frantic beating of her heart coming from beneath the bodice.

“I think perhaps you did know this was my office,” he murmured, letting his forefinger trail down the side of her cheek. “Perhaps you didn’t seek to avoid me at all, on the contrary, you desired something else, something more… insane?”

Lily swallowed convulsively, long past the point of trying to maintain her composure.

“What do you say to that?” he asked, his finger sliding along her jawline.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t have uttered a word if her life had depended on it. He wore no gloves, he removed them during his interrupted tryst with Maria, and the touch of his skin against her was so powerful it seemed to control her body, for she breathed when he paused, stopped when he moved. He had no doubt their hearts were beating in time as his breath kissed her lips, and he smiled, victorious, when she deleted the little distance still separating them. It was evident she was an innocent who wouldn’t know what it was like to have a man so near the heat of his body seeped through her clothes, who wouldn’t recognize the first prickles of desire, nor would she understand that slow, swirling heat in the core of her being, but it was there, he could see it in her face with only one look of his experienced eyes.

James told himself that if she hadn’t kissed him, he would’ve stopped right there, left her bothered and breathless, but he knew he was lying, he knew the moment there had been barely an inch between their faces back in her house and he resisted the pull to give in to her beguiling scent only because the footman might’ve saw them. But right now, there was no chaperone, they were in the privacy of his study, her mother was probably immersed in conversation and the prickles of desire he’d meant to spark within her suddenly ignited him, sending a warm claw of need to the very tips of his toes. Although her kiss had been chaste, and rather desperate, the fingers he’d been trailing along her cheek to torture her suddenly became a hand that cupped the back of her head, and his lips took hers in an explosion of desire, making her gasp against his mouth, something he took advantage of to slide his tongue between them. She was pliant in his arms, so James pressed his suit further by allowing one of his hands to slide down her back and cup the gentle curve of her derriere.

It was madness, he knew he should stop and he damned well shouldn’t have started, but his body was racing with need and he felt so good he had no intention of letting her go. It was like when he was younger, with no care in the world, and his father was still alive, ready to rule the family and gift him with the chance to mess up without consequences a little more, and at the same time he found she possessed something that suited him like no woman ever had before. Something about her was just right, maybe her smell, or maybe the way she felt in his arms, and he knew that if he stripped off all of her clothes and took her there on the carpet on the floor of his study, she would fit underneath him, around him, just right. A low, triumphant growl emerged from James’ mouth as he moved it to her slender neck and further down, in the expanse of skin usually hidden by the bodice he moved slightly, enough to not expose her right away but still more than decency allowed. With ragged and fast breath, he pinned her to his desk, crazed, frantic, leaving small red marks wherever he sucked, regardless of the consequences.

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, and when she slightly shook her head, he cupped one of her breasts, covering it entirely with his hand. Just as he was plotting the best course back to her lips, he heard the perfectly awful sound of Sirius’ voice outside the door.

“James!” he shouted. “I know you’re here and your mother does too. She needs your assistance and asked me to tell you to stop fucking Miss Rosso.”

Miss Evans, blissfully unaware of how close she’d come to having been pleasured utterly senseless, threw a horrified look to the door.

“One of these days,” James muttered, “I’m going to have to kill him.”

#jily #lily evans #james potter #marlene mckinnon #amelia bones #petunia evans #sirius black #regency au #bridgerton au #the queen of the quills

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