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sweetracha · 1 year ago

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Dollhouse Chapter 1: God Meets Barbie

Product Details: Physiological Horror, Angst & Manipulative Fluff

Choking Hazard: Themes of stalking and premeditated crimes, kidnapping, obsession, Stockholm syndrome, delusional fantasies, and illusions to murder

A special thank you to my beautiful bug @goblinracha. This crazy dream world would not be a reality without you. Thank you for staying by my side all this time. Love you bug 💗

Spring flowers bloomed like paint on a blank canvas. Yellow tulips bleed into red roses, accented by violets and stark white daisies. A handcrafted bench sat in a stone clearing, outlined by dewy moss. The setting of the tea shop was perfect for Minho. Every day after work he would visit the small business, get his cup of tea and a blueberry scone, then sit on his bench. So, one day when someone was in his spot he stopped in his tracks. He was about to tell you to leave, that you were ruining his daydream. But then, the light hit your face just right.

Honey gold sunlight dripped from your features. He could tell your skin was soft as silk. Your hair was framed by a beautiful white bow. The dress you wore reminded him of a romantic picnic. It was strawberry red with white squares. The way it flared at your waist gave the most stunning illusion. The skirt pillowed your lap where your smooth legs crossed over one another. Sweet little high heels sat on your feet. The femineity that emanated from your stature excited Minho. A poetry book perched in one hand while a cup of herbal tea sat in the other. You looked like a doll to him—the most beautiful Barbie doll.

He couldn’t help but stare at you, so lost in your own little world. Minho wondered what words you read when your red-lined lips turned up into a sweet smile. What made your pretty cheeks blush all of a sudden? When you paused and looked around, were you deep in thought about the poetic words before you? Questions slowly began to morph into worries. Were you safe? Why would a dolly be by herself in public? Someone could hurt you! Someone could break you! What if you got a scratch on your sweet skin? If no one was going to collect you, he would. Minho would be a perfect God controlling your world so nothing could come near you. God’s plan takes time, Minho knew you were worth the wait.

The first step in his plan? To get a copy of the book you were reading. He must admit the poems were crafted beautifully, however, some of these words were too big for a dolly such as yourself to understand. How could you understand the concept of love if Minho wasn’t showing it to you? He bets no one had ever loved you the way a doll was meant to be cherished. Soon enough he began seeing you every day, even coming 10 minutes earlier just to be there when you arrived. Minho stopped sitting at the bench deciding it was truly meant for you. His routine was always the same. He would sit down at the metal garden table and wait for you to walk in. Some days you even flashed him a little smile and a wave. You were handcrafted perfection. Then once you sit down and pull out your book, Minho would jot down the tea you were drinking. You always left the tag handing out, silly girl. The chart was neat with tallies keeping track of your favorites. Recently you began enjoying a berry hibiscus blend over your typical honey camomile, he believed it was for the changing seasons. Then after you were fully immersed in the world of your book, Minho would get up to grab his order. This meant he would have to walk behind you and smell your perfume, florals, and sugar-coated berries. He couldn’t get too distracted however, he was on a mission. Mentally Minho would take note of what page you were on. Once he had his order in hand and made his way back to his table, he pulled out his copy. Obviously, he put a different book sleeve over the original, Dolly couldn’t know he was watching her. God just had to make sure his dolly wasn’t reading anything her glass eyes shouldn’t see.

Spring finally turned to summer, and day in and day out Minho fell more and more in love. He was convinced at this point you were purposely picking love poems just for him. You were skipping multiple pages just to re-read the words you chose for him. His favorite poem was the one in which the lover declares that he is forever devoted to his lady love. Minho saw it as a confession, that you wanted this just as much as he does. Even the love interest in the story described you as a picture-perfect match…almost too accurately. Something felt off to Minho.

Something was wrong, something was very wrong right now. He heard the classic click of your heels on the stone pathway as you took your rightful display. Minho looked up to see what outfit you decided to grace him with today, soon his emotions soured. The tight black cocktail dress hugged your body in ways that he did not approve of. He did not like how the sleeves fell off your shoulders, exposing your bare skin to the harsh light. It was far too short to cover your silky legs, leaving you open to being scuffed up. No not his dolly! His dolly was limited edition, 1 out of 1 ever made. You would never do this on purpose. Who was corrupting his prized possession?

His answer soon walked in dressed like the definition of a prick. Tall lanky features strolled in, taking up too much sunlight. A mop of blonde and brown curls sat heavily at the front of this head. Thin round frames circled his deceiving eyes. The combination of brown slacks and a red sweater assaulted Minho’s vision. Then the foul creature of a man stopped at you. Not only did he stop in front of Minho’s love, but he also had the nerve to talk to you. Then he dared to sit down next to you. The sounds you made as the creature attacked your exposed skin were clearly a call for help. Despite you clearly not wanting him around, it kissed you. You were in so much shock you didn’t pull away.

Infuriated and filled with rage Minho got up and stormed behind you two, tripping on his way. Minho smirked on his way down to the cobblestone as his tea flew from his hand, straight onto the beast. He shot up with a roaring yell and you quickly followed suit. However, instead of inspecting the man who had you trapped, you went to the poor soul laying on the floor.

“Are you okay?” you reached out a hand to the stranger. Minho gladly accepted it.

“I'm fine, just tripped over some loose pathway” He replied like it wasn’t all planned.

“Oh, they can be such a hassle! My heels get stuck every day” Your giggle was like a master symphony. “I should go check on him if you are alright.” All Minho did was nod in response and bask in your glow as you graciously smiled at him while bidding goodbye.

Minho stood and straightened himself out. You were worth a few cuts to the hands, you were worth all the pain in the world. On the bench next to a soiled napkin laid an unassuming notebook. One Minho had never seen you carry before, it must be that awful man Minho thought. He would do you a favor and take it far away. It probably contained information not suited for a dolly such as yourself. Minho decided it was better to leave early today. That way he can spend more time figuring out how to save you. He could tell by the glint in your eye you were a damsel in distress.

Later that night as Minho was preparing to go to sleep, something intoxicated his mind. There was a voice telling him, not commanding him, to read the notebook. Whatever was inside was vital to your rescue. When he cracked open the worn leather bindings he was appalled at what he read. Word for word, line for line, beat by beat, tempo by tempo, this notebook followed your poetry. The stories you picked for Minho to read were embedded on the pages in front of him, not in print, but in ink.

Minho rummaged through his bag to find his own copy, the one with the false cover. Like something from a nightmare, he analyzed the covers. The ‘property of’ label identically matched the author's signature. That's why the poems seemed so specific, why they painted the pure image of his lady love. You were the muse behind the pen. Enraged Minho threw the book against the wall, shattering a glass frame in the process. He didn’t take kindly to theft and being a criminal meant consequences.

It hurt Minho to see the glass tears fall down your splotchy face. Another bootleg dress was now soiled in mascara. He knew why your face glistened in sadness. That foul beast tricked you into a false sense of love and it's hard for him to continue his games when he is 6 feet in the ground. Like a perfect God, however, where there is death there is life. From the cracked foundation of your heart, he would grow a royal garden.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind but something seems to be troubling you” Minho stands beside you with silk cloth in hand. He reached out to offer you a small gift.

“Oh-Hi sorry for ruining your tea time. I am okay.” The sniffles that left you made Minho smile wickedly.

“Sweetheart, I can tell something is wrong. I know I am just a stranger but I am also willing to listen” He took a seat next to you. He buzzed in excitement at his proximity to your beauty.

“You aren’t a stranger” Your light blush looked stunning on you. Minho will remember that shade for the future. “I see you here all the time. Honestly, I should thank you for spilling tea on that asshole yesterday” That giggle could cure all diseases.

“Oh? You two seemed happy yesterday” His questioning tone was laced with sarcasm.

“Yeah, I thought so too! Then I show up today to a breakup poem. A POEM! What kind of artsy shit would break up through a poem!” A poem that Minho deliberately crafted for hours after analyzing all of that creature's writings.

“That's awful! Here, you tell me all about it and I’ll listen” The blush on your face deepened as he took the cloth from you are dried your sculpted face. “Im Minho by the way”

“Y/n”

“That is a lovely name, Doll”

Before either of you realized then summer weather began to be followed by a chilling breeze. The trees that surrounded the courtyard colored the atmosphere with browns, yellows, and reds. Day in and day out you were comforted by the sweet man you knew as Minho. You couldn’t deny the butterflies he gave you. Those bunny teeth that flashed through his smile and his cat-like antics made you swoon. He would fight you on every little thing but immediately follow it up with a lingering hug. Even the nicknames he gave you made you feel special. Dolly, he always called you Dolly. Oh, how you wished to be HIS dolly but you weren’t sure if he even felt the same way. It was clear Minho guarded his emotions. Something was off with him but in a charming and curious way. If only you could peek into that mind of his.

Storm clouds erased the sky while cracks of lightning rang in the distance. What started as the little pitter-patter of droplets on stone became a downpour. Minho couldn’t tell if the thumbing in his ears was the sound of hail or his own heartbeat as you snuggled into him for protection. He covered you as best he could with his jacket, not wanting your custom paint job to smudge. Fixing your hair might take some work, and the outfit is better off trashed than repaired, but Minho was willing to do anything to keep his doll pristine. He caged you in a tight embrace as another boom of thunder came too close for comfort.

“Dolly, I think we better get you somewhere warm and dry. Poor thing you are shaking” He wished he could transfer all his heat to you, blue wasn’t the color he assigned to you. No, you were pinks, blushes, peaches, and roses. “Let’s go back to my place, hm? I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.”

Minho’s house was the same on the inside as he was on the outside. Cozy, quiet, a little unassuming, but absolutely charming. Soft browns and ivory whites seemed to be the palate of choice. You sat at the oak table waiting for him to come back from the kitchen. Your hands felt the grooves closely, Minho sure had an attention to detail even if he didn’t show it. He wore the same pair of gray joggers and a white tee almost every day. You wondered how many identical copies he owned.

“I had it made back when I lived in Korea, an old friend of mine is a woodworker” he broke you out of your spell. The cup of tea he set in front of you was an odd color, candy pink with the smell of something like medicine. You weren’t going to be rude, however, maybe his choice of tea was just unusual.

“It’s beautiful Minho” he smiled as you sipped some more.

‘Not as beautiful as you, Dolly”

You didn’t know how to react, a deep dark blush taking hits place on your cheeks.

“There is that blush I love so much. My pretty pink princess.” was it just you or did the room seem to be getting blurry? A loud thumb snapped you out of your hazed thoughts.

“What was that?” When did your voice become slurred?

“Oh, probably an old piece in this house settling. Doll you look sleepy, why don’t you shut your eyes.” You wanted to protest but the weight of your eyelids was unbearable at this point. As your head rushed to the table you caught a glimpse of something familiar. Was that your ex’s journal on Minho’s bookshelf?

“Shhhhh good girl Dolly, go to sleep. Mommy is about to show you your real world, Barbie.”

The headache you woke up with was unbearable, maybe the weather got to you more than you thought. You blinked at what sleep was still left in your eye and tried to take in your surroundings. When blue and pink hues spotted your vision in blinding circles you were scared. This can’t be Minho’s room. Speaking of Minho, where was he? You believed you could see a figure sitting on the bed in front of you…almost posed. Now that your sight was clearing you saw hands folded in their lap. Their feet were perfectly pointed forward and their back was pin-straight.

“Minho? Minho! Where am I? Minho please!” You cried out but only got a curious hum back. Then the figure looked panicked.

Next, you could make out what he was wearing. This was something you never in a million years could have seen him in. An oversized white sweater with a brown vintage teddy printed on the front. Blue cotton overalls were buttoned up but one strap hung loose. Frilly blue socks sat on those pointed feet. Then came his hair, soft brown, unlike Minho’s dark chocolate. The hair pillowed in volume, it looked soft to the touch. Finally, you saw his face. He wore a joyful smile similar to a patient kid on their birthday. Brown eyes look in every last detail.

‘WHO ARE YOU” you scrambled back behind the bed.

“I um…I…” he stuttered as if he couldn’t speak, or rather, wasn’t allowed to.

You tried to study the room, to plot your escape but your senses were overwhelmed. Surrounding the mystery man-child was a sea of blues. He sat on a star-themed bed and was now cuddling a fuzzy white star pillow for comfort. It was blue for as far as your eyes could see, then you looked down. Not only down but up, side to side, and behind. You wanted to scream at the assault of pink to the mind. The bed you awoke in was almost identical to the other but where there were stars, there were now hearts. You even had a fluffy white heart pillow waiting for you. Actually, their two sides were exactly identical. Blue walls and pink walls. Blue desk and pink desk. Blue makeup and pink makeup. Even blue and pink waste bins. You started to panic.

“Barbie barbie please calm down” Your eyes darted to Minho walking into the horror show. You slowly backed to the Pepto wall. So the stranger was named Barbie?

“Mommy, she is scared” You cringed at the whining concern in ‘Barbie’s’ voice.

“Ken it's okay, Mommy is going to get it all fixed. Mommy always makes everything better, right? Be a good boy and stay here while Mommy tried to talk to our pretty doll”

Ken? If his name was Ken…then who was Barbie. As if written in a script, your eyes flashed to the wall behind your bed. Big white letters spelled “B-A-R-B-I-E”. You were Barbie.

“Minho what is this? Where are we? Who is that—” your frantic game of 20 questions was cut short.

“Mommy.”

“Huh?”

“I am Mommy” His voice was cold without any room for negotiation. “This is Ken” the softer man gives you a sweet wave. He felt safe to you, you weren’t sure why. “And you, my dear, are Barbie”

“I’m y/n!! What are you on Minho! This isn’t you! Haha funny joke, but its over now.” The hysterically frightened laughter that left you scared even yourself.

“Barbie” with each step forward, you sunk lower. “Why is this not me? This is what I’ve been planning all along. This world I created is for you, for you and Ken to enjoy. I will do nothing but love you here. I will love you, cherish you, care for you; Barbie I will do everything for you! You will never have to lift a pretty finger again! Work is gone, heartbreak is over!” he stooped in front of your trembling body. Slowly Minho kneeled as if you were a hurt animal.

You fought with your mind. A part of you wanted to kick him and run. Another part wanted to take his outstretched hand. It mimicked the one that dried your tears many weeks ago. Did he cause those tears? You were sure what was real and what wasn’t. Why was he looking at you like that? Like he truly loved you. What kind of sick person would do this to someone they loved? What if this is what love was? What if he was true love?

No! Snap out of it, he kidnapped you! He probably kidnapped the poor boy who you were pretty sure wasn’t named Ken. Minho was twisted in the head! You wished you never wondered what went through his mind when he looked at you. This is what he saw. You were nothing more to him than some doll to take his fantasies out on.

But then why did Ken look so happy? Why did he wear that goofy shy smile on his face? Why did he keep asking Minho if you were okay? Did he worry he was the one scaring you? Ken looked normal besides his tailored clothes and abnormal positioning. Did he want to be here? Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“Barbie, get out of that pretty head of yours. Here, stand up. Let Mommy help you.” Your hand gravitated towards his against your will.

“Minho-”

“Mommy.”

“Min-”

“Mommy, Barbie. It’s Mommy”

“Mi-”

“MOMMY!” that was the first time you ever heard him shout. You coiled back at his sharp tone.

“Mommy…Please explain what this all is…”

“Oh, my sweet innocent Barbie. This is your world. My whole life I’ve been looking for the most unique dolls to love and care for. I met Ken a while back at work. The poor boy lost his job and I felt it deep inside me that it was meant to be. When he came to live with me our lives just fit. He was made for me. Then I saw you, and I felt the same. You are so precious, made of glass my love. I can see right through you. Every emotion is worn on your sleeve. The world was not right for you. So I created a new one. All I ask is that you follow the rules. Be a good doll for Mommy, and Mommy will love you endlessly.”

Your doe eyes met his dark ones. Once again Minho left you lost. Would you ever be able to read him? This offer was tempting and you had no clue why. You felt your heart tighten in your chest at the thought of staying, but it also broke at the thought of leaving him. However, with the look on Ken’s face, you were pretty sure you didn’t have a choice. You would play for now. Barbie could be anything right? Then Barbie will play the role written for her. Only until she could find a way out.

“Doll, let me show you what your world has to offer” Minho pulled you in like a dancer. He got close to your ear and whispered “Let us love you.”

@smally97 @lixiesweetbrownie @seo--changbin @lyramundana @j-onedrabbles @hyuniebeez @jisunglyricist @chvngi @hanjisunginc @whatudowhennooneseesyou @sugarmelin @felixsramen @koala-wonderland @lookitsjess @lxerhan @dwaekki081199 @camixiez @dutchessskarma @stvrfir3

You lay in bed designated for you. Intoxicated by battling emotions, you just stared at the pink void of the ceiling. How were you ever going to get sleep now? Does anyone even know you were gone? Maybe Minho took care of them too. Pent-up frustration brimmed in your eyes. "Han" the creaking floors sounded like they spoke.

"My name is Han" You looked over to the other bed to see the sweet man beginning to turn away.

Before you could turn back around a faint buzz caught your attention. Opening the drawer you found a mysterious phone and a text from Minho to a group chat called "Dollhouse" as well as the list of rules Minho promised you. Following them meant eventual freedom, you needed to remind yourself. The phone couldn't do much besides call and text both Mommy and Ken...Minho and Han. You tossed it in the drawer and turned back, hoping to get a little rest.

Laying face up in the pink bedside table, the phone was brought to life.

Incoming message from

<click to decode message>.

#{dollhouse au 🏩}#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee know #han jisung #minsung

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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Jamil, Idia: Desires so Deep

Ignore me getting a late start on this new birthday series 💀 (Got busy with irl stuff!!)

Oddly enough, the vignettes don’t mention Jamil’s birthday at all; they’re at the National Art Museum in the Land of Dawning to celebrate its 100th anniversary. It seems this new series (Platinum Jacket) will have vignettes with more focus on how the boys relate to and what they think about important historical figures in Twisted Wonderland!

… Also, the fact that the book 7 part 5 update came out a few days before Jamil’s birthday… and then his vignettes go and show a Maleficent painting in them… Yeah 😭 but what’s even funnier to me is that Idia calls Jamil a chuunibyou WHich iS SO ACCURATE, THANK YoU fOR CALLinG HIS ASS OuT, KING 🙏 What is Jamil doing in that sussy Groovy if not being a chunni…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Contained within a shining platinum frame was an illustration of a starry scene. A man in a fine white turban crowned by a single violet plume. A woman, perched on a balcony, in a refreshing blue-green, a jasmine flower set into her long, dark braid.

They stared longingly into each other’s eyes, conveying an emotion not spoken aloud. No words were needed for what they had: a love so tender it made the night weep. The stars into glittering tears sliding down the face of darkness.

Standing before the painting of the happy couple, Jamil folded his arms and frowned.

… Can feelings truly defy social status?

"A street rat marrying a princess… Hah."

His fingers curled to fists, digging into the pristine white fabric of his suit. Jamil's expression remained neutral, no hint of the bitterness brewing within. He was a master of leashing it.

What nonsense. I doubt their happiness lasted long. The difference in their standing is far too vast to be bridged.

Jamil lowered his gaze and looked away.

Adjacent to the loving pair was a spindly man with a curled goatee. His crimson and black headdress resembled the flared hood of a desert viper—a look iconic to the Sorcerer of the Sands. He gleefully clasped a golden oil lamp in his long, bony fingers. A remarkable achievement, an item he had been searching his entire life for.

Now, here was a great man. Someone who had slaved away and earned his reputation, climbed in social ranks on merit alone. The Sorcerer of the Sands would die a highly accomplished man, advisor to a sultan, renown scholar mage, and seeker of truth.

The very symbol of Scarabia’s spirit of deliberation.

"Jamil-shi?"

The voice was soft and nervous, like that of a specter not yet parted from this world. A faint blue glow fell upon the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Jamil turned, releasing a sigh when he realized who had appeared beside him. "... Oh. It's you, Idia-senpai."

"Eeep!" His upperclassman jumped at the mention of his name. He clung to the doorway, and anxiety evident on his pale face.

"Well? Don't let my presence deter you from appreciating the artwork."

"N-No, that's okay!! It was getting to be too crowded in the main hall, so I wanted to dip and take a breather somewhere quiet to let my stamina recharge... b-but that's completely pointless if other people are still around!"

"You won't even notice me. I not a snake—I don't bite," Jamil insisted flatly. Not unless I want to. "You look suspicious lurking in the doorframe. You may as well come in."

Left with no other choice, Idia awkwardly shuffled into the exhibit.

He positioned himself a good distance away from Jamil, not saying so much as a word as he stared at an ornate figure of a broad-bodied ape. Its lips were twisted into a grotesquely wide smile.

Nestled in the monkey’s palms was a massive red jewel, glistening even in the scarce light. Idia's own terrified reflection bounced back at him in the gem’s many facets.

"Can't believe I got dragged out for this," the third year grumbled under his breath. "I-I wanted to go to that pop-up Sled Over Heels collab cafe with the walk-in museum... Instead I have to be here and gawk at the same pictures I've seen over and over again in magic history textbooks... Aaah, it totally doesn't compare at all to cute anime girls pouring all their passion into the artful sport of sledding!"

Some small, fragmented part of Jamil grimaced at the disrespect, try as he might to close off his ears, to not engage. No good ever comes of provoking a stubborn mule, he chided himself.

But the devil on his left shoulder pounced.

"Idia-senpai," Jamil spoke carefully, a slight edge to his voice. It made the hairs on the back of Idia's neck stand at attention. "Are you not a fan of this style of artwork? Or is it the subject matter you find distasteful?"

His upperclassmen startled. Horrified as the realization that Jamil had heard his every complaint, the tips of his flaming hair colored pink.

"W-Well... I'm not exactly a buff for this kind of thing," Idia stuttered. "It's ancient history. Been there, don’t that. Th-There's really no point in being on that grind cycle if it all just amounts to the same ending anyway. That's basically all history is, anyway."

Jamil bristled—though he took care to not let it show. "I beg to differ. The story of the Sorcerer of the Sands defies such paltry notions. He struggled much in his life, even served under a carefree, incompetent sultan that barely listened to a work he said.”

I know what that’s like.

“Jamil…!”

A smile he thoroughly detested flashed in his mind. So big and pearly and irritating as he offered him his hand.

“Let’s start over. We can be rivals… but we can be friends too.”

But that boy was a fool.

Feelings can’t trump social status. Not then, not now. Not ever.

“And yet it was thanks to his contributions that he is remembered today as one of the greatest men to have ever lived. The Sorcerer of the Sands was able to break free and live as he desired. He acquired the Genie of the Lamp and phenomenal cosmic power. He decided his own destiny.”

"Uweh, sounds like he's your kami-oshi, Jamil-shi... I guess it makes sense though, since you and the Sorcerer of the Sands are the same character archetype and everything. Chunnibyous gotta stick together and all…”

"… What is that supposed to mean?" Jamil planted his hands on his hips. He didn’t understand all of Idia’s slang, but he also wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Idia's eyes—wide and anxious—cut away from him. “I-It’s nothing important…”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“B-Because you’re definitely the type who would hold a grudge if anyone pisses you off!!”

“How rude. I’m offended that you think so lowly of me.” Jamil allowed himself a little smirk. “I’ll have you know that I won’t stop there. In fact, I’ll enact a vengeance plot so excruciatingly humiliating that you won’t ever be able to face the light of day comfortably again.”

“S-See?! That’s what I meant!! Y-You’re a certified chuunibyou!!”

“Whatever that means, I assure you that I’m not. Is it so wrong to look back on history and to appreciate how far we’ve come since?”

“Th-That’s…”

Jamil found himself returning to the painting of the Sorcerer with the lamp. He was almost drawn to it, lulled into a hypnotic trance. An item that could make all of his hopes come true…

“Let me ask you this: if you could have any wish granted, what would that wish be?”

“E-Eh?! Any wish…” Idia fiddled with the glittering buttons on his suit. He nibbled on his lower lip, a darkness having swept up what little color there was left to him. “I-I can’t say it, but… more than anything, there’s someone I want to say goodbye to.”

“I see. A fond farewell.”

Letting go.

Jamil’s chest tightened.

In a distant memory, flowers of fire lit up the night. He had been dancing then, hair and fabric flying as he spun and spun and spun. When had he last felt so free? His wings unbound, the sky as his limits.

“As for myself, what I wish for most of all is…”

He glanced back at the painting of the two lovers. Star-crossed, against a star-streaked sky. Adventure calling, liberation beckoning.

A look most malicious graced his careful controlled features. Lips in a lopsided smirk, eyes like daggers, glinting sinisterly in the dark. Concealed weapons rising to the surface.

“… to be well-connected with people who may prove useful in attaining my dreams. Yes, that’s it. Useful.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Jamil Viper #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Jafar #Aladdin #Princess Jasmine #something no one asked for #Jamil birthday takeover #Zazu #Maleficent

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elysiumcircusif · 4 months ago

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Care to share some facts about the ROs?

Greetings dear guest! Absolutely!

AURORA:

Your second oldest and best friend.

Voted most likely to survive in a zombie apocalypse.

She got the highest grades when you were at school together! She even scored a perfect grade in the last year of her college which no one ever did in her college's history before.

Smells like Jasmine.

Life of the party.

If she wasn't so afraid of heights she could scale mountains.

Aurora's favorite snack is cotton candy.

She enjoys the scent of old library books.

Loves to break dance, it's an activity she often did as a kid.

She is impulsive, irrational and impatient but its all a part of her charm.

PAX:

You know the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy who knows another guy, yea, Pax would be the last another guy.

Jewellery? Check. Piercings? Check. Jacket? Check. Black eyeliner? Check. No matter how hard they deny it, Pax is the fashionista of the group.

He has a scar on the back of his neck from his childhood.

They once cut their bangs and you won't ever let them forget it.

Pax loves playing the electric guitar.

Easy to anger, but just as easy to burst into laughter.

He has a tattoo on his lower back.

Believes that the past should be left in the past and the present should be lived in but can't truly shake any of his previous memories off.

Loves wearing matching accessories.

VIOLET:

Vi's first love are novels. She won't openly admit it but she wants a romance like one out of the books. However, her favorite theme to read remain tragedies.

Stoic on the outside, emotional wreck on the inside.

She loves having an adrenaline rush.

"What's in a name? A rose with another name would smell as sweet." did something to alter her brain chemistry she says.

Her favourite flowers are roses.

Violet's hands soft like velvet.

Is definitely the person who is awake at 3 am dancing to super obscure pop songs.

She has a sweet tooth.

Vi appears serious at first but once you get to know her she always jokes around.

Once at school, she made the entire other cast bunk their classes for a day. They jumped over the schools fence and went into the town to enjoy the day. She yelled "Carpe diem!" on that day.

NICK:

The troublemaker™. (Unintentional)

With things Nick gets himself into, you sometimes stop and ask yourself how is he even alive at this point?

Once Nick told a crow off and almost fought it but felt really bad about it.

Bubblegum bitch is his theme song.

His favourite drink? Chocolate milkshake.

Hates when people call him Nicky or another variant.

Likes it taking one day at a time, believes that fretting over things only makes it harder for you, which has led him to various situations that could have been avoided if he had a plan.

He's a night owl, the sun never really did anything to activate him.

He is blessed with a proficient aim and has eyes of a hawk.

Nick enjoys playing dumb and watching the reactions of people around him.

#elysium #elysium circus if #interactive fiction #if #ros #elysium: the other cast #elysium: masked guests #elysium: guests #elysium aurora #elysium pax #elysium violet #elysium nick #ro facts #thank you!!!

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carmenized-onions · 2 months ago

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no cause we need to know how richie would react to squidink

girl i want you to know you've ruined my life actually (and or solved it) because thinking on this longer, he's genuinely I think the catalyst for them.

as a queer woman, i say the useless lesbians trope with so much love. IT'S HARD TO TELL IF YOUR GIRL HAS A CRUSH ON YOU. OR IS SHE JUST BEING NICE. "AND ALSO DID YOU JUST CALL YOUR GIRL YOUR GIRL?" METHINKS,,, METHINKS GAY!!!

And so when the actual real SquidInk oneshot comes out I will be harkening back to this ask. But to just give my current thoughts as they happen, (and also a little blurb)

I think Richie would just kinda be sittin there, hanging out, lurking even, and just watch Chip and Syd at work and be like ah.... jus like me and mikey.... old pals...

And then it's like hm. They've got matching nicknames?

And lore fun fact, because I don't think it'll ever come up in canon, in the first chapter, when Chip mentions 'what about the money she owes you? the money you owe her?' this was just a world thing that did come off as a mysterious red herring. Chip invested in Syd's business! A very small like best friend amount but still. Then it tanked OH NO. And the money Syd owes her was really just a joke about how every friend I have I probably owe money for some take out order I forgot to pay back. and vice versa.

I bring this up because that would also strike Richie was like huh. Chip invests???

And what's up with Syd getting the best lattes!! What the fuck favouritism!! I thought I was her favourite! For a second, I do think all his eavespeeping stems from genuine jealously.

When the hot pocket gets added to the menu, Syd waives off any praise with 'ah, all Ink's idea'. HM? MENU ITEM BASED ON CHIP YOU SAY? sounds like another guy i know that's down unbelievable.

And then it finally dawns upon him, that like, he I think would know Chip is fruity. She's not very closeted about it. But Syd to me comes off as the type of gay that's like 'bitch that's none of your business.' so he has to very covertly test his theories.

picture this perhaps ; fuck it i'll even do it all nice for her, different colour bar for her and everything.

It’s after close at The Bear, and they’re taking down for the night. The two frenemies debrief together as Syd tests out a new mint compote to go with the wagyu fillet.

“So uhm…” Be normal, Richie, be so normal. “Hell of a dessert, Marcus put together tonight, eh?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Syd nods, wiping a stray smudge off the plate. “He’s honestly really close to getting his icing florals to look like Weinstock’s, it’s insane.”

“Yeah…” Richie crosses his arms, leaned against the island, “Hm– Hey, what’s– what’s your favourite flower, Syd?”

“Ah… Probably violets.” Gay flower, that’s the gay flower, right? Is that homophobic? No. Right? No it’s not. “I like dahlias too, though. Those are Ink— Chip’s favourite.”

“Ah… You like what she likes?”

“I—” Syd squints, a perplexed and faltering smile on her face, “I guess? I just appreciate her taste, I guess. I dunno. What’s uh, what’s your favourite flower?”

This is going nowhere, time to speed up the questionnaire before she gets more annoyed than she already is. “Marigolds. Thoughts on Taylor Swift?”

“I have no thoughts on Taylor Swift.”

“If Taylor Swift was at a pride parade, how would you feel about this?”

“I guess not great?” Syd turns away from her dish, looking up in thought. “Mostly cause I think Pride has been gentrified into this sort of media circus when it’s meant to be a riot—”

“Alright, that’s my answer.” He waves a hand in front of her face, already walking away.

“What the fuck—”

“I said that’s my answer!”

How he'd react to them when they're actually a couple? I think very similarly to how he acts with Carmen/Chip stop being a pervert!!! but now it's blended with but i'm not homophobic, though.

truly it's like, a mix of relief to him, for it to be like oh. you're not Chip's better best friend, you're just in a sad sapphic love with her!!! we're not competing!!! hell yess!!! sorry to you though but HELL YESSS FOR MEEEE

we'll get to that in detail in the spin off though, of course. because now i have such a fun storyline in mind thank u popcorn for your service.

#yapping #ask #popcornpoppin #chicagos kindest #blurb #cause i do blurbs now #squidink

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cinnamonspicewritingroom · 1 year ago

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More Than Diamonds

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Princess! Reader Description: Britain has gained themselves a new royalty nearing the debutante ball of 1813. Princess Amelia of Siam was sent as the new Ambassador of Siam. In Britain Princess Amelia was able to find her family, but will that be all? After the failed courting between Daphne and prince Friedrich, it was a surprise to everyone that he stayed in London. However, Prince Friedrich is anything, but a coward. He came to Britain to find a wife and one failed courting will not chase him out of the country with a tail between his legs. What both Amelia and Friedrich never thought to happen is, the friendship that blossomed between them and their growing feelings for one another. Friedrich was never a coward, but he is when it comes to Amelia. Everyone said Amelia is a genius, but not when it comes to love, because she is truly lost on what to do with these butterflies in her stomach. Tags: Slow burn, Coming of age, Time-Travel, Back to the past, Friends to Lovers, Royalties, Oblivious!FLxObvious!ML, Jealous! Friedrich, Slightly Possessive! Friedrich, Black cat gf, Golden retriever bf Timeline: S1&S2

Chapter 4: Dearest Violet,

Anthony woke up to the buzzing noises of his siblings downstairs. He decided to get ready and face the source of the noise. Unfortunately for him, once he opened the drawing room, the voices got even louder.

“Well, there he is. Anthony, the man who captured the heart of Siam’s new ambassador.” Benedict said, chuckling. He approached his older brother and threw his arm across Anthony’s shoulder.

“Captured whose heart? Surely you jest, brother.” Anthony scoffed at the reminder of the ambassador. “Really? Who got home riding a carriage with a Siamese flag? She asked her closest adjutant to keep you company back home, and now she sent flowers and sweets. You tell me you are not being wooed by the ambassador, brother?” Anthony looked confused.

“Flowers and what?” Anthony looked flabbergasted. He sure hoped Hugo was right that the ambassador has no romantic intention towards him. “Over there, Anthony.” Daphne said pointing at the simple yet elegant flower arrangement in a basket, which is new.

Usually it was using a vase of bouquet. Below were several boxes of sweets from a rather popular store. Anthony broke free of Benedict’s hold and approached the gift.

“Gosh, Anthony, is it true? Are you being wooed by the new ambassador?” Violet gushed, it may be progressive, for a woman to woo a man and send gifts, but maybe her son can finally find a suitable woman for himself. Anthony hummed as he grabbed the envelope inside the basket. He took out the card only for it to say a simple ‘Sorry’- Siam’s Ambassador. A.C.K.

“I don’t think I am, mother.” Anthony turned around with a grin and he held up the card to his mother’s eye level. “‘Sorry’... What is she sorry for, brother?” Eloise popped out behind her mother. “Probably yesterday. She asked her adjutant to pick me up because she wanted to meet me. I can’t say it was a pleasant experience.” Anthony explained as he proceeded to open the sweet boxes. It was filled with all sorts of tarts, choux and pies, when his eyes caught another letter inside the box.

He took the letter out of the envelope. Inside was a beautifully written letter in cursive.

Dear Viscount Bridgerton,

How are you today? I hope you are fine and so is the rest of your family. This letter will be a short one.

Yesterday I was too focused on handing you the letter, which I hope you have given to your mother along with the necklace.

I know it has been years since the tragedy, but I would like to offer my condolences over the passing of the former Viscount Bridgerton, Edmund Bridgerton. Please offer my condolences to your mother as well.

As a peace offering from my mishaps and the lack of courtesy on our part yesterday, I hope you will accept the boxes of sweets.

I wish you a good day.

Sincerely,

Amelia Chaiya Kanika

“Mother.” Anthony calls out his mother who is gushing on the flower arrangement along with Daphne and Hyacinth. Eloise, Colin, Benedict and Gregory were already looking at the selection of sweets.

“Yes, dear?” Violet turned towards her eldest son who cleared his throat before passing his mother the letter. The dowager viscountess took the letter and started reading. She did not know who this ambassador was, but she could feel that she is a great person if she would take time to write a letter to offer her condolences and even bearing gifts.

“Well, the new ambassador is surely a sweet person.” Violet smiled, but tears pooled her eyes before Daphne went to hug her mother and Eloise took the letter. She read it for a bit and turned to Anthony.

“Brother, why is the ambassador giving mother a letter and necklace?” Anthony let out a small ‘Ah’ as Violet looked at her son. “Right, there was something about a letter and necklace in the letter. What is that Anthony?” The eldest son took his mother’s hand and led her to sit on the sofa. This was followed by the rest of his siblings.

“Yesterday, the ambassador asked to meet me because of an order she received from the Siamese Royal Family.” The family was confused, especially because she has no relation with anyone from Siam.

“Mother, the ambassador handed me a letter and a necklace asking me to deliver it to you or father. She said the Royal member who asked to search for you was Felicia. No last name was given.” Violet gasped as she shook slightly. Felicia, that was a name she has not heard in a really long time. She finally remembered the Siamese boy they met in the summer of 1786. Back then Siam just opened the embassy, it was one of the very first years of British-Siam relationships.

“Anthony. The necklace…” Violet’s voice trembled “You said there was a necklace? Can you please fetch it for me? I need to confirm something.” Anthony was concerned, but nodded. “Alright. I will go grab it.” As he went out of the drawing room, he could see his mother trying to control her breathing with Daphne and Benedict trying to calm their mother.

Anthony quickly fetched the letter and necklace he left on his bedside table and returned to the drawing room.

“Mother, this is the letter and necklace given to me by the ambassador.” With shaking hands, Violet took the familiar necklace and broke into a heartbreaking sob.

“Mother-” Everyone was concerned for their sobbing mother. The last time she was like this probably during their father’s funeral.

“She is alive, oh my god. This necklace was hers.” Everyone’s eyes were meeting everyone, but no one knew what to do as they did not know what happened. They decided to just let their mother cry it out until she has calmed down enough to talk. While waiting, they rubbed the matriarch’s shoulders and backside to let her know they were there.

“Haa…” Violet sighed, her face was red and a mess from all the sobbing and crying she had done the past 10 minutes. “Did you feel better?” Daphne asked, still rubbing her mother’s back. “Yes, thank you dear. Anthony, could you please pass me the letter.” Violet outstretched her hand without needing to look in his direction. “Here, mother.” Anthony placed the letter on her palm.

Violet looked at the envelope and traced the familiar handwriting. This is Felicia’s handwriting. She opened the letter and she could not help the tears that fell from her eyes.

Dearest Violet Bridgerton and Edmund Brigerton,

This is your beloved younger sister, Felicia Bridgerton. How are you all faring? I bet by this point brother Edmund is fuming. I am doing well in Siam and I hope you all are also well in Great Britain.

Brother Edmund, I apologise for running away from Great Britain, but I know I will not be happy if I settle for someone I do not love. After seeing you with Violet, I decided to chase after the man I love, you all know him. Chim, the boy who visited the Siamese embassy all the time back in 1786. Violet, I must thank you and apologise for using you to hold off brother the day I escaped.

Chim and I, we got married in 1790, right after I arrived in Siam and 6 years later were blessed with 2 beautiful kids, Amelia and Vernon. I believe you have met my daughter, Amelia. She is currently representing Siam in Great Britain as an Ambassador. She may look cold, but I assure you she is the sweetest child. Attentive and sensitive as well.

Violet, if I may burden you and sister Billie with a request. Right now Amelia is without a family in Great Britain. It broke my heart to have to send her away so young to fulfil her duty to her country. If you both can please become a family for her and guide her about the British Society. There is nobody I trust more about this than the both of you.

I promise that Amelia will be nothing more than sweet and kind. I assure you I will visit Great Britain as soon as possible. Let us meet then.

With all my love,

Felicia.

Violet’s tears were dripping once again as she read the letter again and again. She is alive. Her childhood friend Felicia is alive and not only that she is married. Lord, the ambassador! She is Felicia’s daughter, which means she is her niece!

“Anthony!” Violet’s tone made him perk up. “Where is the ambassador’s residence? We must invite her here immediately.” Anthony frowned at the question. “I do not know, mother. Why do we need to… See her?” Violet handed him the letter, which quickly got him surrounded by his siblings who are dying to see the contents of the letter.

“She is the child of your father’s younger sister. Felicia Bridgerton-” Gasped erupted from her children. “She ran away in 1790 to chase that Siamese man, Chim.” Violet shook her head in disapproval. “She is the reason why your father always told you all to protect your sisters, so she will not pull a move like Felicia and run away to another country.” Eloise laughed at this. “This aunt Felicia sounds like a fun person.” Violet groaned as she remembered all of Felicia’s naughtiness.

“You are the splitting image of Felicia, Eloise.” Eloise eyes sparkled at this. “How about our new found cousin, brother? How was she? You met her yesterday!” Now Eloise is extremely interested in their cousin, but not only her, Violet too wanted to know about her niece.

“You will definitely like her, Eloise. At the age 13 she persuaded the King and Heir Apparent of Siam to establish an education law that allows all genders, male and female, to receive fundamental rights to education. She even explained the reasoning behind it and why it was necessary for women to receive education if they want the country to strive.” Anthony sighed as Eloise’s eyes sparkled.

“How interesting! I must meet this new cousin of mine! Clearly she is an intellectual. When will we contact her?” “Back to our question yesterday brother-” Colin slipped into the conversation. “Was she as gorgeous as rumoured? The gentlemen in the club said she was an exotic beauty, many people attending yesterday’s meeting were enchanted by her introduction.” Anthony was reluctant to answer Colin’s question.

“Considering enough people were enchanted by her presence alone I would guess she is.” He thought it was quite a diplomatic answer, but of course they are not satisfied with that answer. “But what do you think? Is she as gorgeous as rumoured?” “I expected her to be, Felicia was the diamond of her year.” Violet quipped before turning to face her eldest son. “So, was she?” Anthony sighed, he knew there’s no end to this so he just nodded.

“Yes. The new ambassador is indeed gorgeous. She looked like a walking gold statue, adorned in gold from head to toe.” Benedict, Colin and Daphne chuckled while Hyacinth got excited. “Was she, brother? Adorned in gold from head to toe?” She bounced excitedly.

“She was, from her head-piece, jewelleries, down to her shoes.” Anthony nodded in confirmation before turning to his mother. “It seems aunt Felicia was married to a Siamese equivalent of duke. Lady Amelia’s adjutant introduced her as coming from a dukedom family.” At least her childhood friend is living well, she has to if she went all the way to another country, Violet thought as a smile formed on her face.

“So, do you not know where her residence is located?” Anthony shook his head, looking quite guilty for not bothering to ask. “Then we can only send a letter to the embassy.” Daphne sighed. “Well, at least we have a way to reach her.” Violet was quite satisfied with that.

***

Unfortunately, reaching the ambassador was proven to be hard as Amelia filtered her mail and only accepted work related mail and those coming from Siam. It has been 9 days and Violet has grown restless. She wants to see her niece from her husband’s younger sister, from her childhood friend. Even more so as stated in the mail, they are her only family aside from her entourage from Siam.

“Do you think we can set up a meeting with the embassy instead?” Daphne tried giving ideas. “And what would the meeting be about? I have even tried to ask if the ambassador would accept a personal meeting, but her schedule is full.” Anthony shook his head.

***

A miracle to reach Amelia came a week later when Violet was talking to Lady Agatha Danbury about this while they were taking a promenade together in the park.

“Lady Danbury, do you remember Felicia Bridgerton?” Violet said, she purposefully kept her voice low incase anyone would hear. Lady Danbury’s eyebrow rose as she recalled the brunette little rascal of a lady. “Of course I remembered her. That little rascal.” The old lady sighed and shook her head. “I remember the day she ran away and we never saw her again.” Violet looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention and slipped the letter from Felicia in Lady Danbury’s palm.

The old lady raised a brow and took out the letter from the envelope. She gasped as she read the writer of the letter. She turned towards Violet who gave her a smile and a nod.

“Did you try to contact her? The new ambassador?” Lady Danbury whispered as Violet sighed and nodded. “We did, but unfortunately there was no response and her schedule was full. We also never see her nor her attendants around the town.” Lady Danbury stared at her friend. “The new ambassador was often seen around Foreign Office in Westminster and The Buckingham Palace to have meetings with the Prince Regent.” Violet looked grateful at the information.

***

It was two days after Violet received the information that Anthony met Amelia in Foreign Office. It was purely by coincidence. He was just done with the parliament meeting and Amelia was in one of the benches outside, eating a sandwich as a quick lunch. She was out of Siamese traditional clothing and opted for a dress, but a different style from theirs.

(Above: The brooch, Middle: the dress and hair, Below: the makeup and bangs)

She was wearing a purple dress that fit on the top part and starting from the waist it flared out into an A-skirt. The dress stopped above her ankle, which was fortunately covered by her stockings and boots. The dress went all the way to her neck fully covering her bust area and it was decorated with a single diamond brooch just in the middle of her collarbone.

Her hair was up in a bun with no decoration. Aside from the brooch, her only jewellery is her earrings. She looked extremely different from the woman in gold he saw in the parliament meeting.

“Lady Amelia.” He called out as he approached her. The ambassador only looked up from the document she was reading on her other hand.

“Viscount Bridgerton.” She greeted Anthony, all lukewarm. Like the last time, she looked extremely tired. There were bags under her eyes and her skin complexion was pasty. Her eyes held no emotion due to her tiredness. He felt bad considering how young she was, she could not be more than 20 years old.

“May I join you?” Anthony pointed at the empty spot next to her. Amelia gives the spot a side glance and contemplates for 5 seconds before nodding. “Go ahead.” Anthony nodded and sat down while Amelia returned to reading her document.

“Lady Amelia,” Anthony started, to which she only replied with a hum. “I would like to thank you for the flowers and sweet treats. My family enjoyed it and appreciate your condolences letter” Amelia nodded. “I’m glad they enjoyed it. I hope it did not send the wrong message.” Anthony did not want to tell her that it did. For a whole 10 minutes his family actually thought the woman next to him was trying to woo him.

“I handed my mother the letter and necklace.” Anthony started, his eyes squinting from the direct sunlight. “Thank you. You helped me finish the mission given by the Royal Family. I will make sure to send you a gift as thanks.” Anthony did not reply and silence enveloped them.

“Lady Amelia. Did you know the content of the letter?” Amelia shook her head, but her eyes glued on the documents. “No, I did not. I’m afraid unlike a certain someone, I am not interested in checking someone else’s letter.” Well, ouch. Anthony knew it was rude of him to check on a letter addressed to his mother, but she did not have to bring it up like that.

“Well, it turned out the sender of the letter was an old friend of my mother. They have not talked in over 20 years, so you delivering the letter to our family was a miracle for her.” Anthony turned to look at Amelia. “Lady Amelia, my mother would like to invite you for dinner as a way to properly thank you-” “Please tell Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton that a simple thank you would suffice. I delivered the letter as a mission received from the Royal Family, unfortunately I think it is unnecessary to go through such length inviting me to dinner.” Amelia sighed and set down her documents.

“Princess- Oh. Viscount Bridgerton.” Hugo bowed his head politely and Amelia stood up from the bench. “Hugo, you do not have to follow me. I am meeting Lynn after this to have tea with Lord Adelheid and his wife. He wanted to talk about the silk trade with the Qing Empire. It will be boring for you.” Hugo nodded. “Of course, Milady.” With that Amelia disappeared back inside the building, her entourage carried her half eaten sandwich and stacks of papers.

“Viscount Bridgerton.” The Hugo in front of him was different from the one he met last time. Despite still wearing a smile, it brought chills down his spine. “Marquis Hugo.” Anthony warily greeted.

“I would say it is not everyday I see you. I hope your statement last time is still true.” Anthony looked confused, which statement was Hugo asking about. “How old are you? 29? 30? I hope you will not approach Lady Amelia with romantic intention as she is only 16 years old.” Anthony choked on his own spit. One of the ambassador’s closest attendant and adjutant thought he was approaching her romantically.

“Marquis Hugo. I have no such intention with the ambassador-” Hugo raised an eyebrow at his words. “Truly. I was only-” “Brother!” Both Hugo and Anthony turned to see Colin waving at them.

“Colin, what are you doing here?” Anthony asked when Colin was close enough. “I was meeting up with Earl Sutcliffe about the possible business I told you about last week.” Colin's eyes travelled to Hugo who gave him a polite smile and nod.

“Colin, let me introduce you. This is Marquis Hugo from Siam. He is here with the new ambassador.” Anthony introduced Hugo. “Marquis Hugo, this is my younger brother, Colin Bridgerton.” “Nice to meet you, Lord Bridgerton.” Then it clicked with Colin. The Marquis works with the ambassador and she is his cousin.

“Brother! You found the ambassador-” “Col-” “Mother must be ecstatic now you found her niece and our cousin. So, did you tell her about the dinner invitation?” Colin kept rambling and Anthony did not even have the time to intercept what he was saying.

“Viscount Bridgerton…What do you mean by cousin?” Hugo's eyes widened. His polite smile dropped. Anthony sighed before he casted a glare at his younger brother who was confused.

“Wait- You have not told them yet?” Colin frowned as his brows furrowed. “I was getting into that, Colin.” Anthony hissed before he turned towards the Marquis.

“Look. We also just found out about it. The reason why you were searching for Edmund Bridgerton was because Felicia is my father’s younger sister, making her my aunt-” Anthony rummaged through his pocket and took out the letter he borrowed from his mother, in case he met Amelia today. “Look. This was the letter.” Hugo took the letter with uncertain eyes as his breath hitched when he read the content of the letter.

“Look, I was not lying and I am not trying to pursue Lady Amelia in any way.” Anthony took back the letter and folded it back before putting it in his pocket.

“I mean- I guess it made sense. Lady Felicia looked a lot like your younger sister, uh–” Hugo scrunched his face as he put in effort to remember the little lady’s name. “Eloise?” Colin filled in helpfully and Hugo snapped his fingers. “Yes! Her! I was surprised when I saw a miniature Lady Felicia.” Hugo then came to a realisation.

“Have you informed Lady Amelia about this?” Anthony shook his head. “I do not know how I should break this to her. I mentioned the dinner, but she rejected it.” Hugo hummed, Amelia rather hates socialising, so he could see her rejecting the invitation if not needed.

“Then I will tell Lynn about it. She will be able to slip this in Milady’s schedule. If you could please send a formal invitation to the embassy and attach this business card. It will be delivered directly to my office and thus will not be filtered out.” Hugo handed them a small card with his name in Roman alphabet and below in South East Asian, Siamese abugida, embossed in golden colouring.

“Thank you, Marquis Hugo.” His mother can finally rest without thinking on a way to reach the new ambassador. Anthony and Colin shook hands with Hugo before he went inside the Foreign Office to gather several documents Amelia would need.

Words: 3666

More Than Diamond's Master List

IMPORTANT NOTES A/N: Hello, how are you guys? I hope you are well. Regarding this story that is following Julia Quinn's hit series, Bridgerton, I would start by saying I read the book first before I watch the Netflix series, thus I apologize if there are some differences with the Netflix version, but I will try to make it as similar as possible. I would also ask the readers to be kind when criticizing this story as this is my first time to actually publishing my work in the open. For the story, as you can see there is a time-travel tag. Our reader was sent back to the past with all the knowledge from the future. If you are also confused with Davika's education, I actually based her using Spencer Reid, a character from Criminal Minds. I also made Friedrich to be a year younger than Benedict when in actuality, he was born in 1794, 2 years younger than Daphne. If you are not interested or felt like those 2 themes ruined a historical romance story, then please do not leave any bad comments as you can just stop reading this story. Thank You Very Much! Much Love, Cinnamon Meilleure's Writing Room

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mischievouslittlecreature · 1 year ago

Text

Part 4: Scabbed Over

Fandom: Dunkirk

Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC

Summary: For the first time in years, Daisy returns to her hometown.

Word Count: 4,545

Notes: Warnings for depictions of PTSD and references to past eating disorder, past cheating, and past abuse. Henry Wilson is the name for the Shivering Soldier created by the lovely people over @henry-wilson.

Previous Part • Series • Next Part

The delicate China clinked softly as Daisy balanced the two saucers holding the teacups in her palms, carrying them with intense care from the kitchen back into the living room.

“Thanks, Dais,” Violet said, taking the cup of tea from her, sipping at it lightly. Sinking into the spot next to her little sister on the couch, Daisy took a gulp from her own teacup, thankful for the comforting warmth that the tea brought.

Violet had arrived in an hour or so ago from the train station, having gotten settled enough for them to begin to chat.

“How’s the wedding planning coming along?” she asked. Violet sighed heavily.

“Stressful. Mum’s been driving me insane. I got told off the other day because she didn’t like the flower arrangements I chose. And then there was all this drama between two of my bridesmaids last week…honestly, I’m thankful to have gotten away for a little while.”

“I bet.”

“Speaking of which…”

Sighing, she set down her teacup on the table. “Vi…”

“I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, but it really would mean the world to both me and Mickey if you came.”

“You do realize if I come you’re running the risk of the mother of the bride chasing the sister of the bride around with a broomstick, right?”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Violet hesitated. “I think.”

Daisy looked at her sister’s big, pleading eyes and sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

“How’s Dad?” she asked finally, after a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. As it always did whenever they approached the awkward subject of discussing their parents.

“Oh, fine. Getting slow. His knees have been acting up,” Violet took another sip of her tea. “I keep trying to get him to go to the doctor about it, but he’s so stubborn,” she shot another look Daisy’s way. “He misses you.”

“Mm,” she picked up her tea again to take a deep drink so that she wouldn’t have to answer. “I thought that we could just go to the pub for dinner. I invited Henry to come join us. I hope that’s okay.”

Violet’s eyes glimmered to life excitedly. “Not at all! I can’t wait to meet him, after everything that you’ve told me,” she shook her head. “I still can’t believe that you met on that boat you took out with the Dawsons during the evacuation. That is so romantic.”

She wanted to tell her sister that it really wasn’t. That the whole experience had been terrifying and by the end she’d been covered in sweat and oil and surrounded by dead-eyed, terrified men, with her friend dead below the deck. But she kept her mouth shut.

“Look, Vi, he can be quite…shy and skittish, so please–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice,” Violet raised an eyebrow, lips pressing into a smile.

“What?”

“Your face changes when you talk about him,” she said, grinning. Daisy groaned, lifting her teacup back to her lips.

“Shut up.”

∗ ∗ ∗

A twinge of anxiousness clenched in his chest as the pub came into view. Daisy had said that her sister was nice and easy going, if a little overenthusiastic at times. He hoped with queasy nervousness that things went well. Violet was the only member of Daisy’s family that he knew of with whom she had a truly positive relationship. He wanted to make a good impression on her.

He spotted them in a booth near the back of the pub. Daisy waved to him when she spotted him, and the woman beside her looked him up and down, assessing, as he approached, leaning over to whisper something into Daisy’s ear that had her rolling her eyes.

Violet looked a lot like Daisy. Which shouldn’t have really been all that surprising; they were sisters after all. But it still caught him off guard. They had the same brown hair and hazel eyes, but Violet’s hair was longer, her face more oval where Daisy’s was more rounded.

He shook her extended hand nervously in greeting, sliding into the booth to sit beside Daisy. Violet was nice enough, if a bit overexcited about everything.

There was a shock of panic that spread through him when Daisy murmured something about needing the ladies’ room, sliding out of the booth before he had time to fully process that she was leaving. For a moment he stared at Violet a little like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to say.

“It really is nice to meet you,” he said timidly. Violet smiled at him, taking a sip of her drink.

“Likewise. I’m glad that Daisy has someone. And that you can look out for her. I worry about her, down here all on her own, you know?”

“Oh, um, it’s no problem.”

“She mentioned that you were a soldier?”

His shoulders tensed at the mention, looking down at his hands. “Yeah. Was discharged after Dunkirk.”

“My Mickey was discharged after he took a helping of shrapnel to the leg. He has to walk with a cane now,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, for whatever it was that you had to go through.”

“Thank you. I’m…sorry about your fiancé.”

Violet shrugged. “I don’t mind. I didn’t fall in love with him for his mobility,” she cracked a bitter grin. “The only one who seems to care at all is Mum. She keeps telling me that I deserve better than a cripple,” she shook her head, a shot of anger twisting her features, but only for a second. “I told her that if she wanted an invitation to the wedding, she needed to cut it out with that type of talk, but I can still tell that she’s thinking it.”

“Your mum sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Ah. So Daisy’s already told you about her. Yeah, she is. If it weren’t for Dad, I probably would have moved away too. Or at least put a little more distance between myself and her,” she picked at her salad, eyes glancing over the plates of food on the table. Chewing slowly, her brows furrowed together, gaze faraway like she was remembering some distant memory. “Has she been eating alright?”

“What?”

“Daisy. Has she been eating alright?”

“Oh,” another wave of awkwardness washed over him. After Daisy had told him about her past issues with food when she was a teenager, he’d made a silent mental note to keep an eye on how she was eating. He’d never really noticed anything out of the ordinary. “I-yes?”

“Good,” Violet nodded, looking back down at her salad. “I always worry so much about her…”

He opened his mouth to say speak, but before he could get the words out, Daisy was sliding into the spot beside him again, smiling at them both as she picked up her burger and took a bite from it. Her side brushed slightly against his where they were squeezed in next to each other. Warm. And when she giggled at something Violet had said, the way that her entire face lit up and her nose scrunched slightly made him want to wrap an arm around her waist and press his lips into her hair.

Clearing his throat roughly, he glanced quickly back at his food. Before his mind could get away from him.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Henry seems nice,” Violet commented, grunting as she adjusted her grip on her suitcase. “I like him.”

“I��m glad,” Daisy murmured, Violet shot her a look and she rolled her eyes. “What?”

Her little sister grinned. “He’s handsome.”

“Vi–”

“Relax, I’m happy for you,” Violet grinned. “You really will think about it? Coming for the wedding?”

Daisy sighed. “Yeah, I will.”

Her little sister beamed, throwing her arms around Daisy’s shoulders and squeezing her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Ring me as soon as you know.”

“I will. Call me when you get it?”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you too, Vi.”

She watched as her sister boarded the train, waving as it pulled out of the station and began to chug away. Hands in her pockets, she turned on her heel, listening to the little clicks of her shoes against the cobblestones as she walked the short way home. Ghost greeted her at the door with a wagging tail and happy yips.

“Where’s Henry, boy?” she asked, following the dog to the backyard, where Henry was kneeling in the garden. “Hey.”

He looked up. “Hi,” tugging off his gloves, he rose, brushing soft dirt from his pants. “Violet’s train got off okay?”

“Yeah,” she sat down in one of the chairs on the patio.

“What’s wrong?”

“She wants me to come up to Newport for the wedding.”

“Oh,” he inclined his head. “You’ve never gone back home.”

“No, I haven’t,” her shoulders slumped. “I want to say no, but…she’s so hopeful about me coming every time she brings it up, and after everything she’s done for me in the past…really, I should be able to suck it up and spend one weekend back there for her.”

“So what’s holding you back? Is it your mother?”

“My mother, Adam, Claudia…everyone. I don’t know how I’m going to handle all of the questions, the stares…” just the idea of it all was enough to make her heart thunder painfully in her chest. “And I’ll be going alone, on top of that,” she let out a small, self deprecating chuckle. “I can only imagine the things that everyone will be saying about me behind my back.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go alone, then.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You can’t mean–”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “If it’ll help make the whole thing more bearable for you, I don’t mind.”

“Henry…”

“It’s just an offer,” he strode to her, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Something to think about.”

“Okay,” she wrapped her arms around herself, leaning closer to him on instinct. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Adam grunted, not glancing up from his cards. A few of the other boys at the table exchanged looks.

“Daisy Preston’s back in town.”

“Oh, shit, really? I didn’t think she’d show,” Donald said.

“She and Violet are close. If anything was gonna get her to come back down here, it would be Vi and Mickey’s wedding,” John added.

Adam swallowed, taking great care not to show too much emotion at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. “Where’s she staying?”

“Violet’s. I think Hattie and Mary ran into her when they were there for some bridesmaid’s business.”

“That true, Mary?” he asked as one of the aforementioned women stepped into the room, hauling another ice chest of beers for them.

“Is what true, Adam?”

“You saw Daisy at Violet’s?”

“Oh,” her eyes widened, just a bit. “Yeah, just briefly, though, yanno? We didn’t really get much of a chance to sit down and talk with her.”

“How’d she look?”

Mary shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. “She, uhh, she looked good, Adam.”

“Tell him the other thing, Mary. That you told me,” Donald ordered his wife. She stuttered, looking reluctant as she pressed her lips together.

“She wasn’t alone.”

“What?” Adam asked.

“She brought some guy with her. Name’s Henry. He was a soldier at Dunkirk before he was discharged,” and then, gaze fixed down onto her shoes, she mumbled, “he was nice.”

“She’s married?”

“No. No, not married,” Mary’s cheeks turned bright red. John hooted, looking down at his cards and shaking his head while he grinned.

“I always knew she was a slut. What was he like?”

“He, um,” Mary glanced nervously at Donald. “Like I said, he was nice. Quiet. Daisy really seems to like him.”

Adam stared at one single spot on the table, jaw flexing. “Thank you, Mary.”

“Sure thing, Adam,” she mumbled, rushing from the room back to the kitchen. Adam’s finger tapped irritably against the cards in his hands. Over the years, he’d imagined what a reunion with Daisy would look like over and over again. More times than he could count.

In not one of those scenarios did she return to Newport with another man.

∗ ∗ ∗

She braced her hands against the vanity, drawing in slow, deep breaths as she did her best to keep herself from the brink of having a panic attack.

“You okay, love?” Henry asked, approaching her slowly. They’d barely been in Newport for over twenty four hours, the entire goal of the weekend to get in for the wedding, then out as soon as it was done.

“Mhm.”

He moved to press himself against her back, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “You’re lying.”

“I’ll be fine,” her voice broke on the last word, greatly undercutting her argument.

“Daisy, Daisy, shh,” Henry cooed. “It’ll be okay,” he dropped his head so he was speaking directly into her ear. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“I wish that I’d just stayed home.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But this’ll make Violet happy, right? And then we can go home. On the first train tomorrow. Just one more day. That’s all you have to do.”

She closed her eyes, nodding as he threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing. “Thank you for coming with me.”

His lips brushed her forehead. “Of course,” glancing up at them in the mirror, he smiled charmingly at their reflection. “You look beautiful.”

She blushed, scrunching in on herself, which just resulted in her leaning back further into his chest. “You’re just trying to charm me.”

“Mm,” his nose brushed along the sensitive skin of her neck. “Is it working?”

“Hm. Maybe,” she giggled, letting her head fall fully against his chest, looking up at him lazily. He pecked her lips, then took her hand.

“Let’s go. Otherwise we’ll be late.”

Still a little shaky, she linked her arm with his, allowing him to guide her down the stairs of Violet’s house and outside, down the path that led towards the little church where the ceremony would be held. Already, there was a decent amount of people gathered inside, milling around and chatting to one another. A few of them cast stares their way and Daisy fought the urge to shrink in on herself.

“That’s my dad over there in the front row,” she didn’t see her mother. Probably off tending to Violet.

“You want to go say hello?”

“Probably should.”

Henry steered them through the rows, shooting polite smiles to the few guests that they passed.

“Dad?” Daisy rested a hand on her father’s shoulder timidly. He looked up from the program and smiled.

“Daisy, you came!” he stood a little unsteadily and pulled her into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” she cleared her throat. “Dad, this is Henry.”

Her father looked her plus one over appraisingly, but with a big smile. He shook Henry’s hand enthusiastically. “Yes, yes. Violet’s already told me all about you.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Henry said, and she squeezed at his arm reassuringly. Of her two parents, her father was the easy one.

“Are you sitting up here with us?” her father asked. Daisy shook her head.

“No, I had Violet put us further back. I didn’t want to steal away any attention,” not to mention the thought of sitting beside her mother through the whole ceremony filled her with anxious nausea. Glancing around the church, she froze at the sight of a couple walking into the church, arm in arm. “What are Adam and Claudia doing here?” she knew for a fact that Violet hadn’t spoken much to either of them, after what they’d done. She couldn’t imagine her willingly inviting them. Her father looked down at his feet with a deep sigh.

“Your mother insisted that Vi invite them.”

“Why?”

“Something about them being practically family.”

Daisy felt her stomach turn.

“It caused quite a row between the two of them, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Mm.”

Henry gave her a tiny tug on the arm. “We should go find our seats.”

“Yeah,” she glanced to her dad. “We’ll talk later at the reception.”

“Okay, honey.”

She could feel his sad gaze on her back as she let Henry lead her away.

“You alright?” he asked, dipping his head to murmur in her ear. They slid into their assigned pew, Daisy fiddling with her program while Henry rested his palm on her thigh.

“Yeah. I should have been prepared for it. Mum adored Adam. And she liked Claudia probably more than she ever liked me.”

Henry slipped his arm around her shoulders comfortingly, kissing the top of her head in silent encouragement.

∗ ∗ ∗

He stared at her from across the pews, seated beside a handsome man with dark hair and striking blue eyes. As Adam watched, the man wrapped his arm around Daisy’s shoulders, pressing a kiss into her hair. She looked more or less the same. Round face, big hazel eyes, short brown hair. She wasn’t as skinny as she had been when they were teenagers, and where she had been bony and gaunt before, there were now soft, filled out curves. But her legs still looked strong, from what he could see of them. He wondered if she was still skating, or if after everything that had happened she’d soured towards the whole experience. She fiddled with her program, face serious and grave.

Then the man beside her said something, mumbled into her ear, and her face changed, lips pulling upwards, cheeks dimpling as she turned to look at her date, grinning at him, then giggling, smiling down at their hands as they intertwined.

Adam barely even recognized her.

∗ ∗ ∗

The ceremony was lovely, and went off without a hitch. And then they were all being herded outside, towards the venue where the reception would be held. Daisy continued to cling to Henry’s arm like a lifeline, as the time grew nearer and nearer to when she knew that she would have to at least say hello to her mother.

Hopefully that would be the beginning and end of it, and she wouldn’t have to speak to her much more after that. In the entranceway, there was a huge collage of pictures from both Violet and Mickey’s childhoods, all the way up to the present day. Henry nudged her, pointing to a picture.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah,” it was a photo of her and Violet as teenagers, sitting out on the porch together. It wasn’t lost on her that there weren’t any other pictures of her outside of that one. Violet must have managed to sneak it in somehow. She stared at the gaunt, frighteningly skinny girl in the photo and shivered at the memories it coaxed up. Henry squeezed her waist.

Their assigned seats were at the table with the rest of the out of towners, and she silently thanked Violet for the thought. It meant less awkward conversation, at the very least.

“I didn’t expect your mum to look so much like you and Violet,” Henry commented, eyeing the table where the parents were seated.

“What did you expect?” she asked around a mouthful of soup.

“Honestly? Cloven hooves and horns wouldn’t have surprised me.”

She snorted, almost choking on her soup, and he shot her a conspiratorial grin. Violet came bounding over to them eventually, pulling Daisy into a strong hug that squeezed her ribs.

“I’m so, so glad you came,” Violet whispered genuinely into her ear. “Really. It means a lot.”

Daisy nodded. “Of course.”

For the most part, everything was going fine, until dinner ended and the dancing started.

“Incoming,” Henry managed to provide her with some semblance of a warning. She looked up just in time to see her mother making her way over to them, one hand holding her shawl tight around her shoulders, lips pursed and head high.

A sudden, violent wave of panic rose up in her chest, and she had to fight the urge to dive under the table or burst into tears. Oh, fuck. Fuck. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do this–

Henry’s fingers enclosed around hers, warm and comforting, and she latched onto the sensation frantically, shifting a little closer to him, until she could feel the warmth from his chest. Safe.

“Daisy,” her mother said stiffly, coming to a stop in front of them.

“Hello, Mum.”

Her mother’s eyes, the same shade of hazel as Daisy’s and Violet’s, slid over her, lips pressing together in disapproval. She wondered what aspect of her appearance so offended her. Was it the dress? Her hair? Her finally being at a healthy weight?

“Mum, this is Henry,” she said, hating how weak her voice had become. Her mother’s assessing gaze moved from her to Henry, looking him up and down. She didn’t offer to shake his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Henry said politely, carefully.

“Your husband?” her mother asked plainly.

“Erm, no–”

Her mother’s jaw set in silent, cold disapproval. “I would have thought,” her mother spoke slowly, deliberately. “That of my two children, you have been the one to be married off first. Being the eldest and all.”

Daisy swallowed hard. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get your timetable,” she bit her tongue before she could say something more inflammatory.

“I just mean…what could this one,” she gestured with a sweeping hand to Henry, “even want from you now? You’ve taken too long. You’re in your forties. That’s certainly too old to have children.”

“Actually, I don’t really think that I want–” Henry started to say.

“Quiet, boy.”

His eyes just about bugged out of his head, mouth opening to respond, but Daisy squeezed down hard on his fingers.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” she said firmly. Her mother’s brow rose. “And what I do with my life really isn’t any of your business anymore,” she turned away. “I’m here for Violet.”

A trembling anger filled her mother’s eyes. “That’s no way to talk to your mother, Daisy.”

“But you’re not my mother. Remember? That’s what you told me when you threw me out of the house all those years ago,” she shrugged. “So really, I don’t owe you shit.”

“You watch your language–”

“Henry, come on,” she grabbed him by the hand, rushing towards the doors that led to the patio outside. “Good bye, Matilda,” she said to her mother, beginning to walk away, then stopped. “And by the way, I’m not forty until next March,” beginning to walk again, she added under her breath, “you neglectful bitch.”

“Holy Jesus, how did you live with that for eighteen years?” Henry asked as soon as they were outside. “You okay?”

“Mm,” she massaged at her brow. Now that the interaction was over, she was beginning to feel shaky again. She leaned in closer to him. “Put your arms around me?”

He circled her with them, biceps flexing as he squeezed her in close. “She’s wrong, you know,” he said. Daisy nodded, closing her eyes as she settled against his chest.

“I know.”

∗ ∗ ∗

When he suggested to Claudia that they approach Daisy at least to say hello, she’d looked at him like he’d just asked her to drink spoiled milk, instead returning to her drink and her friends at the bar. Adam supposed that it shouldn’t have been that surprising, considering how ugly things had gotten between her and Daisy when his side thing with Claudia had come to light.

So, he wandered over to where she was standing with her date on his own. They were eating their slices of cake, chatting animatedly about something. Daisy’s smile faded when she spotted him approaching them.

“Hi, Daisy.”

“Hullo, Adam,” she said, blinking at him, once. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You look good.”

“This is Henry,” she said, not acknowledging the compliment. He nodded to the man beside her, who was looking at him with apprehensive, curious blue eyes.

“Hi.”

“Hullo.”

“It’s good to see you,” he tried again with Daisy. She looked at him with an expression that told him that she knew exactly what it was he was trying to do, and was thoroughly unimpressed.

“How’s Claudia?”

He battled back a wince and forced a smile on his face. Like his marriage wasn’t a complete and total disaster. Like he and his wife didn’t hate each other’s guts. Like he didn’t regret letting Daisy slip through his fingers when he should have held onto her. “She’s good.”

“And the kids?”

“They’re fine. They’re at their grandmother’s.”

“That’s nice.”

The awkwardness between them all was so potent, it made him want to scream. “Yeah.”

The band started to play something slow and sweet. Henry rested a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, leaning in closer to her. “You want to dance?”

Adam wanted to laugh. Of course she didn’t want to dance. Daisy hated dancing. And she was shit at it too. His toes throbbed from the memory of prom night, how she’d kept stepping on them. And alright, maybe he had lost his temper a little with her, but really. If she didn’t want to get yelled at she should have learned to dance properly.

“Sure,” Daisy said, taking Henry’s hand, and Adam’s jaw just about dropped to the floor. She shot one last glance his way. “Nice to see you, Adam,” but her voice sounded rather bored, like she was indifferent to his very existence. Slumping down into a seat on the edge of the dance floor, he watched with silent befuddlement as Daisy danced with Henry. She stepped on his toes a couple of times, but where Adam expected him to display annoyance at the action, Henry just grinned, like it was some adorable little quirk, pulling her close with a hand on her waist until she laughed, cheeks turning pink as the former soldier buried his face in her neck, open and blatant in his affection for her.

∗ ∗ ∗

They were sprawled out on Violet’s couch, both a little tipsy, with Daisy’s head on Henry’s chest, his hands curling through her hair. Violet and Mickey had caught a late night train to their honeymoon destination, leaving the house to Daisy and Henry for the night before they caught the early morning train back to Weymouth.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Daisy said, eyes closed as she cuddled closer to Henry’s chest. His shirt was half unbuttoned, leaving her to stroke a tentative finger along the exposed bare skin.

“Of course,” he nosed at her hair. “You ever think that you’ll be coming back after this?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Maybe for a funeral if someone died or something…but other than that, no. I don’t think so.”

“I can’t say that I blame you.”

“Mm,” she reached up to rub at his jawline. “My insane family didn’t chase you away?”

“Of course not,” he adjusted their positioning, so that he was curled in behind her, his chest pressed firmly to her back. He kissed her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That morning, they got on the train to Weymouth. Not once did either of them look back.

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bvnnyl0v3r · 3 months ago

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It was a cold winter, the snow flakes fell and every passing second the green grass froze into an icy blue before being covered in a multitude of unique patterns that each of the ice crystals had. Genevieve Middleton was sitting in the winter garden, waiting for her fiancé Edwin Morath who was getting tea from the kitchen. Usually the Maids or butlers would do such act, however due to the heavy snow falling there was no possible way for them to get anywhere near the manor. Genevieve was currently looking out the window, watching the ice crystals fall onto the floor, nature slowly dying again as it did every year before being reborn again. It was truly weird, only a thin wall of glass was keeping the room from freezing, only a thin wall of glass was keeping the flowers alive and only a thin wall of glass was keeping the fire in the furnace from dying. Edward came into the room with a porcelaine salver, decorated with roses that held two cups, a teapot, a sugarbowl and a tea caddy, all of the same material in a blueish white colour. Each of the teaware had the same pretty rose running along their bodies, resembling a set. Specifically a set that Genevieve had been gifted as for their engagement.

She gently took off one of the cups as she took a gentle sip from it, the tea having already cooled off a bit. Edward stood next to her and while Genevieve's eyes were only on the outside, looking through the glass into the garden that would soon be revieved again by its natural beauty, his eyes were only on her. He had loved her ever since they had met on the 6th of june 1906. He remembered every little bit of it. Her lavender perfume, the violet dress and her updone hair. He admired her simplicity, it was in its own way the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen. Every woman that had tried to get his attention wore a multitude of different colors and accessories, each of them looking dumber than the last.. but she. She had always kept a simple pattern. Light pastels that could nearly be counted as white, the same up out hair every day and no makeup. It was foolish to think that any amount of makeup could hold up with her natural beauty. Her pale skin almost as white as her hair, and her eyes so light in color they simply couldn't be counted as blue anymore. Edward knew he would outlive her eventually... he couldn't bear the thought of the prettiest flower he had every seen dying.

"Say, Genevieve, how long have we been together for..."

"Why, I think it was around two years now.... yes... two years. The sixth of july 1907 we got together... and it is currently the 25th of august 1909..... so really it must be two years"

She had always been talkative. If it was about the plants and animals in her garden or the families in town, she always had something to talk about. She was the only person he knew who could talk for hours about the most boring themes.

"Two years.... it's not enough, it simply isn't. I need more. More time."

she looked into his eyes with surprise before chuckling, a closed eyed smile

"well I can't travel into the future that's for sure"

she opened her eyes again, the smile still very much present

"I guess it is good then we haven't married yet... It'd be a shame truly if we got torn apart by something as pitiful as death... let us stay together even after death, yes? Let's die together, or at least change our wedding vows, that we'll find one another even in the afterlife. I couldn't bare staying in a grave for all of eternity..."

he sighed, of course she didn't know what he meant, she never would. She didn't know about his curse, she didn't know she'd die without him. He was mumbling again, the same words over and over. Death was coming and he couldn't stop it. Death was jealous of him. Death would take her to him and she would leave. She would leave him for death. He rambled on about how it was driving him insane, that they wouldn't be together in life forever, that he would give anything for the bith of them to stay aluve forever

"Edward"

her voice echoed through the wintergarden

"I don't want to live forever. It'd be a terribly lonely life. Even with you by my side... we'd make friends and we'd loose them just as quick. We'd loose the meaning of life slowly, our souls would die. We would see everything and it would slowly take our will to life. And don't you understand? That would be terrible, to life in a world that has no meaning, you'd want to die.... and then you'd have no escape"

A loud groan, nearly a scream emitted from his lungs

"You don't get it! You never will, I love you, why won't you get it? Why won't you get that I love you? I don't want you to die. Ever."

There was a slight look of dread in her eyes

"Have you thought about this Edward? Have you thought about the public? Even if we lived forever, they would hate us. If anyone found out they'd try to burn us and even if we would be immortal, we'd collect scars upon scars. Eternal youth may be beautiful but it's simply be boring, and it could be ruined by any person that has common sense and a lighter. The people are afraid, Edward. They burn everything the can't explain."

Silence entered the winter garden. Genevieve drank the rest of her tea while Edward's still stood on the salver wich he ahd previously put down on the table near the couch. It was cold by now and he knew it. He hated tea, yet he asked for a cup for himself everytime Genevieve asked. Because if there was one thing he hated more than tea it was Genevieve doing something without him, it reminded him to much that some day, she would die without him.

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rubysunnday · 2 years ago

Text

Summer of '16

requested by @freyathehuntress: Hii I love your stories and I don't really have a specific request but can you do a Bridgerton sister story? Maybe her siblings being overprotective Because although she is not the youngest she's like the most "positive, believe in ppl type" happy ending tho...... I mean angst would be great too... anything really

requested by anon: Hi! Can i request a bridgerton!sis fic where reader met her love match and her siblings (esp the bros) immediately go in overprotective mode

requested by anon: Hiii!!! Can I request a piece with Violet comforting bridgerton!sis after a heartbreak? Just that mother warmth we could all use in our lives lol!! Maybe a soft Benedict could help, too 🤗 Love love love your writing!

requested by anon: can we pleaseeee have a benedict x bridgerton sibling reader fic???

a/n: four requests with one fic look at me go. ALSO, for the sake of storytelling everyone's name now begins with an E, alright

summary: the summer of 1816 was one of the best and worst of Y/N Bridgerton's life

Everything was incredibly sparkly. The dresses glittered in the candlelight and there were so many beautiful colours in one room. Y/N bit her lips, trying not to make her excitement obvious as she stepped into the room. She gripped Anthony's arm tightly, her eyes wide as she stared around in awe.

"This is beautiful," Y/N breathed, her mouth falling open. "The flowers, the food - oh my, is that an ice sculpture?"

Violet linked her arm with Y/N's. "You seem excited, dearest. One's first ball is always an exciting time. Daphne was much the same."

Anthony slid his arm out of his sister's, squeezing her hand as he did so. "We shall leave you two be, I do not want to ruin the fun."

Y/N beamed at him as he and Benedict walked away, heading straight for the refreshment table.

"So, what happens now? Do I just wait?" Y/N asked quietly, letting her mother slowly lead her around the room.

"You wait until someone comes over and asks you for a dance," Violet explained. "He will write his name on your card and then that dance will be his. It starts off slowly but once one man makes his move, the others will follow."

Y/N nodded, listening to her mother's every word. As excited as she was for her first official ball, there was a seed of doubt and anxiety beginning to bloom inside her. Being the diamond of the season came with expectations - expectations that Y/N wasn't sure she could live up to.

Violet nudged Y/N's arm gently and nodded at the other side of the room. Y/N followed her mother's gaze and felt the excitement return as Mr William walked across the room, towards her.

"Lady Bridgerton," Mr William greeted, bowing to Violet.

"Mr William, it is a delight to see you again," Violet said, smiling at him. This is my daughter, Y/N, as I'm sure you know."

Mr William straightened up and turned to Y/N. He took her hand in his, holding it gently. "Miss Bridgerton."

Y/N tried to keep her composure as he kissed her hand, feeling it through the silk material of her gloves. "Mr William."

"Miss Bridgerton, I would be honoured if I could be your first dance of the evening," Mr William said, releasing her hand.

Y/N took a deep breath in, trying not to show him how excited she truly was. "You may, my lord."

Mr William bowed to Violet and then held out his hand to Y/N. She placed her gloved hand in his and let him lead her onto the dance floor, trusting him to guide her every step.

"I must admit," Y/N said softly, "I am a little nervous."

"Don't be," Mr William said, placing his hand on her waist, his other on her elbow. "I've got you."

Y/N felt something shift down in her stomach and she fought to keep the grin off her face. The music began, the strings playing gently into the packed ballroom, and she took one step forward, allowing Mr William to take her where she needed to go.

Violet watched on with a fond smile. It was hard watching your children grow up, but the little moments made it all the better.

"Who is she dancing with?"

Violet glanced at her eldest son, an amused smile appearing. "Mr William - he's just returned from America."

"So, he is new in town?"

"Anthony, dearest, why do I feel as if you are going to interrogate him?"

Anthony straightened up, looking at his mother. "I have simply never heard of him before."

"His father is the Viscount Rochdale."

"Oh, I was not aware the old bastard had a son -"

"Anthony, watch your language."

"Apologies, mother." Anthony sighed, watching his baby sister dance. "When did she grow up?"

"I know, dearest," Violet said, putting her arm through his. "This is always the hardest part."

"Who is she dancing with?" Benedict asked, joining his brother.

Violet tried not to roll her eyes at the two sons. "Mr William - he is a very respectable gentleman and I will not have the two of you scaring him off."

Y/N was completely oblivious to her brother's watchful gaze, She was besotted with Mr William as he spun her around the dance floor, smiling at her the entire time.

"I do hope you don't mind me asking this but I was hoping to get to know your family a bit better," Mr William said.

Y/N looked slightly surprised. "May I ask why?"

"I have heard a lot about you and them through rumour and gossip sheet. Everyone seems to be in agreement that you are one of the most loving families in the ton."

"Well, I, mean, we just... like one another," Y/N replied. "I honestly do not know what I would do without my family. I understand that I am very privileged to have a family that cares for me as much as they do."

"I have met your brothers Benedict and Colin but not Lord Bridgerton -"

"Ah, well, good luck for when you do," Y/N said, chuckling. "He is very protective over all of us - understandably so. But he is lovely underneath his gruffness."

"And your sisters? I understand one is now a duchess. You will have to forgive me, time away in America means I missed a lot -"

"Oh, do not worry. Yes, my eldest sister Daphne is a duchess. She married the Duke of Hastings and they have one child, a son, Auggie, together. There was a lot of drama involved there - not that you needed to know that," Y/N added, cringing slightly as she rambled.

"I shall not ask, do not worry. What about your other sisters? I hear Miss Eloise also made her debut this year."

"Well, yes, since she is my twin - not many people realise that. They think we are simply eleven months apart, not sure why. Eloise is not too happy about being out - she thinks the whole idea of marriage is an outdated custom. She is quite happy to become a spinster."

Mr William laughed and Y/N ducked her head, trying to hide her stupid smile.

"She sounds fantastic," he said, no hint of a joke in his voice.

"Yes," Y/N said softly, "yes, she is. I adore her. Well, I adore all my sisters. Francesca and Hyacinth were delighted to help me get ready for tonight - they're my younger sisters."

"There are so many of you!"

"Well, if it helps, we are named alphabetically," Y/N said, stepping backwards. "From A to G with two E's in the middle."

Mr William chuckled, spinning Y/N around. "That does help, I thank you."

The music came to an end and Y/N curtsied to him as he bowed to her. She couldn't stop smiling, even as her heart raced from the dance.

"Miss Bridgerton, would I be able to call upon you tomorrow?" He asked as he walked her off the dance floor.

Y/N looked at him, her smile growing. "Of course, Mr William. I would be delighted."

"Oh, one more question, I do apologise," Mr William said, stopping Y/N as she turned to go. "Would your family appreciate flowers?"

"Everyone but Eloise would - I think she would rather prefer a new quill," Y/N said jokingly.

"I see," Mr William said quietly. He bowed again. "Miss Bridgerton."

"Lady Bridgerton, there is a Mr William here for Miss Y/N."

Violet nearly dropped her cup of tea. "Oh, let him up, Mrs Wilson." She turned to Y/N, who was innocently sewing next to Benedict. "You did not tell me he was going to call upon you."

"I am almost certain I did, mama," Y/N replied, setting her sewing aside as she stood up. She walked over to the other end of the room and sat down on the empty sofa, smoothing her dress out. "He asked, I accepted."

"Yes, but dearest -"

"Mr William, ma'am," Mrs Wilson said, cutting Violet off mid-sentence.

"Lady Bridgerton," Mr William said, bowing to her. He was holding a very impressive bouquet of flowers - all different shades of white and pink. "I thank you for accepting me into your home. These are for you."

The bouquet he was holding turned out to be smaller bouquets of flowers of roughly six of seven flowers. Violet took the offered flowers and smiled at him, instantly won over.

"Mr William, thank you, these are lovely," Violet said, welcoming him in.

"I also brought some more Miss Francesca and Miss Hyacinth," Mr William said, turning to the other side of the room where the two girls were sat, trying to look busy but failing.

"Oh, that is very generous of you, Mr WIlliam," Violet said, slightly stunned by the man's kindness.

"And for Miss Eloise, I bought a set of new quills since I heard you do not like flowers."

Eloise looked up from her book. "You bought me a present?"

"Eloise, what do we say?" Violet chided softly.

"I apologise, thank you, Mr William," Eloise said, standing up and accepting the quills. "These are beautiful, thank you."

"You are welcome to sit over there, Mr William," Violet said, gesturing to the empty sofa where Y/N was. "And please help yourself to tea."

Y/N sat down as Mr William joined her, sitting next to her, a small distance between them.

"When you asked about flowers last night, I did not realise what you were up to!" Y/N exclaimed, keeping her voice quiet.

"I have always felt it odd that suitors turn up with gifts for the lady they want to woo but nothing for anyone else. I have always tried to make a good impression with any lady's family."

"Well, I think it worked," Y/N said, leaning past him to see her sisters admiring their flowers and quills. "I do, however, think you will have a harder time impressing my brothers."

"I expect nothing less, Miss Bridgerton," Mr William said, smiling. "I would be concerned, otherwise."

Y/N found herself smiling back at him, her face heating up. "I was thinking of going on a promenade today... would you like to come with me? We would be chaperoned, of course."

"I think that a wonderful idea," Mr William replied.

"Mama, is it alright if Mr William and I go for a promenade? I can ask Rose to chaperone us," Y/N said, looking over at her mother hopefully.

"Of course, dearest."

Y/N looked back at Mr William with slight surprise. "You truly have won her over," she said, giggling.

Hyde Park was quiet. The colder weather was the main reason - it was an overcast, dark day and anyone with any reason was indoors, hiding away.

But Y/N and Mr William were enjoying a squirt stroll through the woods with Y/N's maid.

"I do apologise for being so absent," Y/N said, stepping over a branch. "See, Anthony decided to marry this season and everyone has been in a state trying to find a match for him. And then when he finally decided on a woman, her older sister did not approve -"

"It sounds very chaotic," Mr William said, laughing.

"I fear I have slipped through the cracks, slightly," Y/N admitted. "I am not likely to act out unlike Eloise, therefore I am left to my own devices. I could probably go rob a bank and no one would notice." She sighed. "I honestly do not know what I thought my season would look like, but I do not think it resembled this."

"I understand. My father does not even know I am in the country he cares so little."

"I do love my brother, honestly I do -"

"I never doubted that -"

" - but he just makes life so bloody difficult for himself!" Y/N exclaimed.

Mr William burst out laughing, throwing his head back. "Oh, Miss Bridgerton, you do amuse me."

Y/N grinned. "Please, call me Y/N. I think we're past titles."

Mr William nodded, looking back at her, his face serious. "Of course, Y/N. In that case, you should call me Kieron, please."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kieron."

"And you, Y/N."

Everything had suddenly gotten so confusing and chaotic. One moment Anthony was marrying Edwina and the next he was about to kiss Kate, the wedding was cancelled and they found themselves embroiled in scandal.

And then Eloise was hit with her own scandal. All Y/N wanted to do was fall in love.

"Room for one more?"

Y/N looked down from her spot up in the tree house. Benedict looked up at her, holding a lighter and a case of cigarettes.

"Always," she replied, shifting away from the ladder.

Benedict clambered up and sat down next to her, letting his legs dangle off the edge. He handed Y/N a cigarette and she took it, rolling it between her fingers.

"Is Eloise ok?" She asked quietly.

Benedict shrugged, putting his cigarette between his lips. "She has locked herself in her room. I was going to check on her tomorrow, to be honest." He lit his cigarette, watching her intently. "This is not your fault, sister."

"I know, I just... as her twin, I feel like I should have stopped it. Because obviously, I knew. Yet, I let it happen."

"There is no stopping Eloise when she wants something." Benedict handed the lighter to Y/N. "How are you?"

"I do not know," she admitted. "Worried for Anthony. Upset for Kate. Annoyed at Eloise and society in general." She sighed, tilting her head back. "I do not know what I thought this season was going to be but this was not it."

Benedict hummed in agreement. "Does anyone else know?"

"About Kieron? No, not fully. I mentioned it to Daphne and Simon but everyone else has been so busy with their own lives... sorry, that was really -"

"No, it is fine. You are allowed to be upset, Y/N. I know you always try and see the good in everything and everyone but, sometimes, there is no good. It's just all shit."

"I just, for once, wanted the attention on me," Y/N whispered. "Not all of it just... I wanted people to talk about whether I would marry Mr Wiliam or not and instead, all I have got is my twin sister sneaking out to see a newsboy."

Benedict nodded, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Do you think he will propose?"

Y/N smiled sadly, sniffing. "No. Because he is returning to America next week. The Featherington ball is the last time I will see him. We spoke at length the other day - he came around to check how we were all doing after Kate's accident - and he decided to return to America, away from his father. He has some more growing up to do, first. And I think I do too."

"That is a very mature response," Benedict said softly. "Knowing you are not yet ready."

"I know." Y/N inhaled shakily, rolling the cigarette between her fingers. "Yet that does not stop it hurting like hell."

Benedict smiled sadly, his eyes full of sympathy. He put an arm around Y/N's shoulders and she leaned into him, closing her eyes.

"It never stops it hurting," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "No matter how hard you try."

"Mr William."

"Miss Bridgerton."

The two stared at one another. Y/N knew this was going to happen - their final dance, together, for a long time. She had spent the season getting to know him better and falling in love with him more and more each day.

She had never been able to imagine herself as a wife before. But with Kieron, she knew she would be safe.

"Miss Bridgerton, may I have this dance?" Mr William, Kieron, asked, holding out a hand.

Y/N swallowed thickly. She glanced around the room, seeing her family all occupied with other people, paying her no attention.

"You may, Mr William."

Y/N took his hand and held on to it for dear life as he walked her to the centre of the room. They had not even danced yet and already her eyes were burning with unshed tears.

"I am sorry," Kieron said softly.

Y/N looked up at him, blinking furiously. "I understand, Kieron, truly, I do. We both need to grow up, first. And I admire you for knowing that and not forcing yourself into something you would regret."

Kieron smiled at her, his eyes sad. "Thank you for understanding. I know that doesn't make this easier -"

"It was never going to be easy," Y/N said quietly. "But we have this moment, to make a memory that will last us a lifetime."

Kieron stepped forward and took her in his arms - one hand on her waist, the other on her elbow.

Benedict was watching his sister the moment she stepped onto the dance floor - her hand in Mr Williams. He could see the longing in both their eyes - the need to hold one another close.

Deciding to leave must not have been an easy decision, but he admired them both for making it.

For Y/N, it was as if time had stopped entirely. Her entire focus was on Kieron. She didn't care that everyone was watching, she didn't care what anyone thought.

She just wanted five more minutes with him.

It was as if for the first time all season, the rest of the ton were finally noticing Miss Bridgerton and Mr William's connection. They had been so absorbed with the Sharma's, that they'd missed what was directly in front of them.

Y/N felt her chest begin to tighten as the song ended. She held onto Kieron's hand until she could no longer and let go, turning and walking away first.

The carriage ride back to Bridgerton House was quiet. Y/N sat next to her mother, staring wistfully out the window.

"Dearest, I have to ask... are you and Mr William -"

"No. Well, not anymore," Y/N said quietly, turning her head to face her mother. "Through the season we were courting one another. But we came to the conclusion that we both had some growing up to do before we went any further. He is returning to America."

Violet gasped softly, her face full of sympathy. "Oh, darling, I am sorry. If I had known, if I had paid attention -"

"Your attention was where it should have been, mama," Y/N said quietly, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "With Anthony. I will be fine." Y/N paused, the words catching in her throat. "I always am."

Y/N found herself in her mother's arms moments later, sobbing. She clung to her mother as she cried, letting every emotion and every bit of heartache out. It had been the best summer because she had spent every bit of it with someone she loved.

And even the pain she felt now wasn't going to ruin the memories of those perfect nights, dancing together in the candlelight.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton!sister #bridgerton sis #platonic #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton sister #bridgerton!sis imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader

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promenadewithme · 3 years ago

Text

The Viscount Who Deceived Me

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Broke my own heart writing this. First time I’m writing anything sad, please give me feedback!!

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Warnings: This is pure angst, cheating, probably not that good since it’s my first angst fic.

Word Count: 1,6K

Dearest readers,

I come to you today with the most wonderful news! Our Viscount Bridgerton and Lady (y/n) (y/l/n) are to be married by the end of the season. Being a diamond of the first water, we expected no less from her. However, it seems this isn’t a vantageous marriage, but one of love. Will they continue the Bridgerton tradition of being the ton’s most smitten couple? Rest assured, for this author shall bring all the news about this adoring duo.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

“Did you hear that, darling? The ton’s most smitten couple!” your mama exclaimed in a proud tone. You gave Madame Delacroix a look, rolling your eyes and she had to fight back a laugh.

“Yes, mama. I heard. I had the first three times.”

You were at the modiste working on your wedding dress when the paperboy came to deliver Delacroix’s weekly Whistledown. She’s one of the avid readers, like your mama.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I’ve just been so excited, so happy that you got to find love. Most women don’t,” she sat down and shrugged “I never did... Don’t get me wrong, your father brought me happiness, he gave me you, but it wasn’t a love match. You, however, found what everyone searches for, whether they admit it or not. You found someone who will love you till your last breath.”

“Don’t be so morbid, mama! We are still young and you talk of death?”

“Well it is in your vows, is it not? Till death do us part.”

“That is a very long time, mon cheri...” said the dressmaker with a hesitant look “Are you sure Monsieur Bridgerton is ready to make that commitment?”

“Of course-” you cut your mama before she could finish.

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, mademoiselle.” she smiled “I am sure Monsieur Bridgerton will make a wonderful husband!”

As the day passed you wondered what she could have meant. ‘Of course he was ready to make that commitment!’ you thought

‘Wasn’t he?’

The thought pestered you for the rest of the day, even as you got ready for the opera. You were to meet your fincé and his family. You even watched in the same box since the engagement.

Your lady’s maid helped you put on a light blue dress, white gloves and style your hair in intricate braids. Your mama brought up the family’s sapphire and diamond necklace. It was arranged in delicate flowers around the neck and a single one for each earlobe. Small, but gorgeous nevertheless.

“The carriage is waiting, my dear, and so is your Viscount. Shall we?”

Taking your mother’s arm, you made your way to the carriage, arriving at the opera a few minutes later.

“Hello, my dear!” greeted Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton with open arms. Engulfing you in a short hug, she did the same to your mama. You loved how warm the Bridgertons were, no other family you know of would show this kind of affection in public.

“Hello, future sister-in-law.” bowed Colin, followed by Benedict, both with teasing looks on their faces.

“What are you two up to?”

“What can she mean?” asked Benedict.

“I don’t know, brother. What can you mean, Viscountess Bridgerton?” you rolled your eyes. You were friends with the boys and Eloise before you fell in love with Anthony, so the Bridgertons were already like family to you.

“I’m not Viscountess yet.”

“Oh, but soon! In fact,” Colin winked at you before turning to look at your mamas “Did the two of you read the latest Whistledown?”

“Oh, yes! I couldn’t stop gushing about it all morning!” replied Lady Violet.

The boys started laughing quietly and you sent them a reprimanding look. Benedict muttered a ‘Good Luck’ before they excused themselves and left you with two women who loved the gossip papers as much as they loved a good ball.

“Lady Bridgerton, has the Viscount arrived yet?”

Turning away from your mother for a moment, she answered he was already inside. You bowed and excused yourself before going to look for Anthony. You just wanted to see him, to be assured that all your worries were in vain, that he was ready to marry you and had left his reputation as a rake in the past.

Nodding at familiar faces, you wandered through the people who were arriving, trying to find Anthony’s familiar face. The thought of his smile upon seeing you warmed your heart.

Not being able to find him in the crowd, you searched in the isles that led to the boxes. You were about to give up, when you heard his voice. With a smile on your face, you followed it’s sound only to discover it was coming from below the stairs, where the staff prepare for the opera.

‘That’s strange.’

You silently went down a few steps and there he was. Your heart shattered at the view. With his back to you, he had his arms wrapped around another woman, one of the singers.

“I cannot think of anything else, Siena.” he whispered before kissing her neck.

Silent tears were streaming down your face. You felt like screaming, hitting him, looking away, running, anything, but you couldn’t move. ‘He said he loved me. He promised me forever.’

“No, Anthony! You are to be married! You won’t be able to have two women at the same time.”

“Then one last time, Siena. One last night to remember.” he kissed her neck again and turned her around. She looked at him, then noticed you and her eyes widened in realisation.

“What is it?” he held her shoulders.

“How could you?” you tried to sound strong, but your voice came out a mere whisper.

He turned around, dumfounded. His mouth opened and closed several times, as if trying to find an explanation. He wouldn’t be able to. There was no way to justify his actions.

“(y/n), it’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh, it’s not?” asked Siena, crossing her arms. “What is it then, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Siena, I-”

“I can’t be here- I-” running up the stairs and to your carriage, you felt as if you were suffocating. As if someone had punched your airways over and over till you bled. And your heart... There was a dagger being twisted inside.

“(y/n), wait!” Anthony yelled as he chased after you, but you continued to run as fast as you could.

Arriving outside, your mother and Lady Bridgerton caught sight of you both and immediately rushed to your side.

“My dear, what on earth happened?” asked Violet.

“I can explain!” Anthony insisted.

“Oh, can you?! Can you explain why you were begging the singer for ‘one last night together’? Can you explain why you were touching her as if you were husband and wife? Can you explain why you told me you loved me when you never meant it?”

“I meant it!” he tried to get closer, but you took a step back “I love you! Please believe me! I promise I love you!” tears were falling down his face and your first instinct was to dry them, but you held yourself back. ‘He chose this! He doesn’t deserve my love or sympathy.’

“Then why would you? Why?! If you love me so much, why did you need someone else?” your voice was hoarse and you felt your heart constrict in your chest.

“I don’t, all I need is you!”

“Clearly not...”

The Bridgerton mother stepped forward with a hand extended. “Wait an instant, can someone please explain what is going on?”

For the first time, you looked around. There was no one outside except for your mother, Lady Violet, Eloise, Anthony and you. ‘At least no one would hear about this.’

“I found him alone with a singer, apparently they have an affair and he was asking for another night together. He said he can’t stop thinking about her, he kissed her and-” you hiccuped and turned around, your mother hugging you from the side, while looking at the oldest Bridgerton with hatred.

“Anthony, tell me this is not true?” pleaded his mother.

“I am afraid I cannot...”

“You fool!” yelled Eloise.

“Quiet down! We don’t want anyone else hearing about this.” scolded the Viscountess.

“No! I cannot believe that you would do this! (y/n) is the sweetest girl in the whole ton, a family friend, someone every Bridgerton likes, someone who accepted and liked you for the idiot you are, and you chose an affair over her?! Was it even for love? Or just for the fun of it?” she shook her head “To think I actually had respect for you.”

“Eloise, enough!” Violet pressed her temples “How could you, Anthony?”

“I want to go home.” you mumbled, tears starting to dry.

Anthony stalked towards you “Please forgive me!”

You shook your head, looking away and he dropped on his knees, joining his hands in a pleading motion.

“I’m begging you! Please don’t leave me, I love you! Give me one more chance. I know I messed up, but I can make it right!”

“How long?” you managed to maintain a stern face.

“What?”

“Was is a one time thing? How long has it been going on?”

“(y/n)...”

“That answers my question.” you went into your carriage and he stood up, going after you.

“My love, please! I swear I can make it up to you!”

“But you cannot! Don’t you see?! You betrayed me, you lied to me, you can never make this right! I will always wonder if you are with another, I will never be able to look at you the same way. I will never forgive you for making a complete and utter fool out of me.”

He shook his head again, a pained look on his face.

“Please, I-”

“Goodbye, Anthony.”

You signaled to the coachman and your mother squeezed your hand. You refused to look back, to let the memory of the Viscount you loved cloud your judgement. He wasn’t the man you thought you knew. He deceived you and you’d never forgive him for that.

General Taglist: @crazy-beautiful @elenapatricia99 @Axeannwyn

Bridgerton Taglist: @dancingwith-sunflowers @for-bebbanburg

Anthony Bridgerton Taglist: @multifandomfix

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ilalos · 3 years ago

Text

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

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sepia-mahogany · 3 years ago

Text

Platonic Hanahaki

The stories are just as widely known, of loving and losing, of yearning and forgetting, common in present time as they were years ago, of loving someone so deeply, without desire but not without passion, of kings and warriors, of lovers and brothers, of people not kin not lovers, growing in their lungs the flowers with thorns that cut deep, and drank away their blood without leaving any survivors.

Of course the tales are many, as tragic as they are, of how a man who killed his beloved for making him feel what he deemed unnecessary, his beloved who offered him a little white carnation, covered red in blood, but he held up his sword and cut through flesh, only to follow few days later in his grief.

Or of how a woman travelled across seas, in search of her soulmate, for the agony of her blood kept her comfort, for the heartbeat that echoed along with the garden she grew inside her lungs, because it meant her beloved was well, until one day, she coughed up a black rose and sank to her knees, disappearing from the world.

Of course, there were the ones who lived and got their happy ends, filled with their beloved ones caress or tears of guilt, and so was recorded, the flowers turning to dust and fading away, for their love had been acknowledged, so why the need for the reminder in their veins? Only marks appear on their skin, the place where they first made contact, sometimes the cheek, sometimes the hand, sometimes unseen under the clothes from when they rough-housed as kids.

------------

Jiang Fengmian closed the book that he read, the pain blossoming sharp in his lungs, since that night when he sat, staring at the lotuses under the moonlight, his mind drifting to moments of the past, of longing of what once was, Lotus Pier once his home, felt more like a shackle around his wrists, yet this was his responsibility and he would bear the weight.

He thought to the day he waved away his dearest friend, the one by his side since they were young and grown into the men they were today, and as life went on, it was natural and it was expected, so Fengmian had not been forlorn but rather joyfully wished them well with sincerity and hoped they could visit some time in the future.

He was happy for Changze, for he had found his One, he’d seen the way he looked at her and she at him, he may have held affections for one of them but his love for their friendship outweighed it, and he would be content if they were healthy and successful in the path they chose, but even he knew with their own busy lives, it would be difficult to meet for a long time, so he bid them farewell and cherished their memories.

He didn’t feel as disappointed over his marriage as he originally did, it might have been arranged because of Meishan Yu Sect’s pressuring and his mother’s continuous desire for wanting one of theirs to be his bride, ‘to be the stern hand to his mellowness’ she had said, and what kind of a filial son would he be if he broke the betrothal off now?

And it was not as if he knew the Third Lady of Meishan Yu personally, seeing his brother-in arm’s relationship, his heart could not help but swell with hope, perhaps they could come to understand one another? He looked at his flowers, the ones he had grown with them, and the purple lotuses blooming near the entrance and thought, would she notice how the the colour reflected her eyes? Maybe a boat ride would help? Making future plans with anticipation, he felt a smile blooming on his face.

The day of the wedding came and went, except the chambers of the first night of the married couple remained empty, for his wife had requested for separate quarters in the privacy of their room, he agreed, perhaps she was nervous? Knowing each other better was better than consummation with a stranger, he nodded to himself, he should probably help make her comfortable as her husband.

He approached her room after he finished dressing and knocked lightly, and hesitantly called out “Third-lady?” The door opened, by one of the two girl’s Yu Ziyuan had brought over, and he saw his heart skip a beat when he saw her sitting clothed in Yunmeng Jiang’s purple, her violet eyes staring at him, her lips pursed in a line.

“What is it?” she asked, annoyance clear by her expression, he hesitated yet again, perhaps he had come too early? Yesterday had been a busy banquet. “Would you like to come to the pavilion with me today?” her eyes narrowed and he thought he saw a brief anger flash on her face, was she misunderstanding his intentions?? “The flowers are quite beautiful and the weather is quite good today, tea outside seems a calming time, doesn’t it?” he added, trying to make sure his tone did not seem too hurried, except she became even more angry.

Just when he expected her to refuse, she nodded curtly, “What time?” He let out a breath he did not even realise that he was holding, “Whatever seems comfortable.” He smiled at her gently, her eyes roamed over his face once again before she looked away, knowing full well she meant for him to leave, he got up.

He was happy throughout the day and it must have shown on his face, because his right-hand man told him to leave the Sect work to him for today and ‘just go Sect Leader!”, he had prepared the afternoon snacks himself, the place polished and ready for a wonderful evening, despite that, he still could not help but anxiously look over everything as he waited for her arrival, and she arrived, wearing the same robes as she was in the morning.

He got up to extend her seat. “Good Evening, Third-Lady” She had been looking around the garden since she had entered, he thought it out of appreciation, since these were the flowers they cultivated for years, until her eyes landed on him, which held the same anger as they did earlier in the morning. He served her the tea which she held tightly in her hands, and he found himself worrying, “Is something wrong?”

He expected her to say that the tea was not up to her taste at best, he expected her to criticise the garden’s decor at worse, what he had not expected were the words that left her mouth. “So this is the garden you cultivated with that woman? And you dared to bring me, your wife, here on the first day after our marriage?” She hissed, her words crisp and cutting, he felt confusion, followed by horrified upon realisation of the implications.

“Third-Lady! What are you saying??”

“What am I saying?! Do you deny it? Do you take me for a fool? You married me once you were rejected by her, everyone knows that and you think that I will sit here calmly while being disrespected!? What do you take me for??” She yelled at him, slamming the cup down, he was truly shocked and frozen in his spot looking at her in bewilderment, had that really been what everyone was saying?

However, she took his shocked silence for agreement and got up to leave, “Third-Lady wait! It isn’t as you think, at all! Let me explain, we were friends and nothing else” He saw her pause, her back towards him so he hurried to explain.

“Changze brought her over once, to show her the garden we had cultivated since we were kids.” He paused to take a breath, “The only thing that was planted upon her suggestion were the purple lotuses-” He saw her head tilt as she looked the flowers, with a hopeful heart he thought, ‘maybe..?’ But before he could finish, Yu Ziyuan had turned around, a sneer upon her lips as she trampled upon the flowers next to her.

‘...to be the first thing you see, when you enter the garden.’

She left him staring at the trampled flowers, the tea cup tipped all over the table from when she smashed it in anger, and he sat there, processing what had happened, until a disciple knocked at the door, “Sect Leader?” The disciple peeked inside to catch his eye and stammered, “The meeting is about to begin, some urgent things came up and-” he smiled and replied “Of course, I’ll be on my way.” He sent the disciple off, grabbed a few napkins to clean up the table, and picked up the trampled flowers from the ground.

The days that followed went on without much words spoken between them, he did not dare to make the first move, because if she could misunderstand him in ways to such high extents, he was not sure what she would think if her sent over gifts, even if the thought of sending some crossed his mind, her scowling face and the violet of her eyes reminded him of that day, leading him to stay away.

He entered the garden, as months went by, the flowers that were once blooming wilted, just like everything in life had its end, some more sooner than the others, some caused by another, he thought as his eyes lingered on the place where once the purple lotus flowers stood.

--------

“She’ll love them!” Cangse Sanren had said with that confident smile of hers, giving him thumbs up with both hands covered in dirt from where she planted her side of the lotuses with Changze, who nodded as well when he looked at him. “The ones on the right are from us, the ones to left were planted by her were own future-husband.” She grinned as he could feel flush creeping up his cheeks, he cleared his throat accompanied by Changze’s fond sigh.

“She’ll probably melt, Sect Leader Jiang, down on his hands and knees in dirt, planting flowers in her-” Jiang Fengmian cut her off “Okay, enough! Enough!” he muttered, wiping his hands clean and looking at Changze, who only looked the other way as his wife cackled, the traitor. “Besides I plant flowers anyway, so does Changze, it’s not anything special like that.” He said defensively, Cangse Sanren had the audacity to roll her eyes, at Sect Leader, and his own home at that. “Sureee, Fengmian, sure.”

---------

When he began to plant new fresh seeds, it took him much longer without Changze doing the other half, now, the thought of even considering Yu Ziyuan to plant the other half seemed laughable, he had been wrong in thinking they could come to understand one another, but now what was done was done, he could not exactly with separate her just within a few months of marriage, so he took a deep breath and decided upon a peace offering.

She was the Violet Spider, with a harsh temper and equally cutting words, what would be a gift that would be to her liking? He did not need to ponder over it for long, because to his surprise, he was approached by her during the evening, when he was alone. “I want to handle the training of the disciples.” She stated more than asked, Jiang Fengmian hesitated, that was a mistake, “What? Don’t think I’m good enough to train Yunmeng Jiangs disciples? Not good enough as your-” he cut her off,

“No! That’s not what I was thinking-” the original instructor had been hand picked and carried the legacy of his forefathers, how could he alter what was passed down for generations- “Did you speak over me!? Trying to silence me, are you? With how you married me as a substitute for her? Is that not it?? Is that why you’re so hesitant?? Or perhaps is it that I’m a woman and you’re scared-” what?? “My Lady! That’s not it at all! I-”

“Then prove it, or else it's not believable at all, what other reason would you have then, to think that I am somehow inferior in your mind?” Her words dripped with poison, her eyes locking onto him, eyes of a venomous spider, he raised up his hand to massage his forehead. “Its not that simple! The instructing handlers have been passed down through generations, I cannot just change it on a whim.”

And she leaned back, smug as if she had won the argument, “Then perhaps it is not I who is lacking.” He felt cold all over, the anger he felt giving him no warmth, insulting his friends, insulting him, and now his sect. “Third-Lady, please be careful of what you speak, careless words aren’t able to be taken back easily.” Her smile remained, “Who says these are careless words? I mean every one of them, your Sect teachings haven’t produced any excelling disciple for the past years, while other Sect’s flourish, give me the reigns and I’ll show you how its done.”

Not only accepting all her words as intentional, but also implying she could do better than the Jiang Sect’s teachings over hundreds of years, he realised more and more what sort of a person he had been tied down to, would it not be better to just end the marriage? He instead looked over her smug expression and took a deep breath, “Fine, but give me time.” She nodded and left at that, a means to an end, giving her the benefit of the doubt, he did not know at the time, would turn out to be one of his worst mistakes.

It took him months but he managed to get some disciples under Yu Ziyuan, but his concerns were not simply over the teachings, if Yu Ziyuan could act the way she did with him, well with disciples? So he supervised the training lessons, but again to his surprise, other than some curt words, she did not verbally attack them the way she had attacked him, so it wasn’t her behaviour in general, just with him.

Of course he had called over one of the disciples randomly, although nervous and stuttering, the boy had answered that the training was going quite well, and with no reports or complaints in the following months, he could not do anything but let the matter drop, with this however, the matter of their distance remained as it was.

Soon he found that she relocated the aides he had, he had been angry of course, and immediately gone to her. “Where did you send Li Feng and the rest? And with what authority, you have no right-” she cut him off slamming her hands on top of the table. “With authority as your wife!? Or have you forgotten who your wife is?? So what? Can’t I move around servants here??” the anger churned his insides more so than anything else.

“Those people aren’t servants, Li Feng is my right-hand man, please refer to them respectfully.” He tried to speak as calmly as possible, she glared at him “As the Madam of this house, I can do however I want.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, looked at her, her violet eyes, and exhaled. “Every action I do is met with anger, scorn or contempt,” He began, voice devoid of previous anger, “Then perhaps we should part ways.” He finished and her expression changed.

Out went the anger from her glare, instead for the first time she looked at him with shock instead of rage, and it was the first time he heard her stutter. “F-Fengmian, you can’t…” He looked at her, much relaxed with his mind made up, “Third-Lady, we clearly aren’t meant to be, we are completely different.” He turned his back and made to leave, with his hand on the door handle, “How dare you do this to me?”

Still the same, he closed his eyes, “How dare you, when I work day and night to train your disciples, how dare you, when you agreed to marry me in the first place, if anything, it's all your fault these things happen!” She yelled and he turned to look at her in disbelief, she cried “Why did you marry me if you were going to abandon me later?? How dare you!” she grabbed the nearest object, a cup and threw it at him, but he caught it before it broke.

‘Your fault’ she said, how was it his fault with any of it?? With how she behaved- “Have I caused problems in your Sect?? Have I gone out of my way to harm your people? All I did was rearrange the schedule setting but you seem to think I have committed treason?!”

She looked at him with anger “Did you not approach me first on that day? I was fine in my own quarters but you had to approach me.” He did but it was for purpose of getting to know each other better!

“Then all I asked was to train your disciples, only to get your suspicion” She huffed angrily “Do you think think me blind? That I would not if you called them to check if I was abusing them?? What do you take me for exactly!?” She saw him staring wide-eyed and nodded “You don’t get to ask for separation when I’m one who has suffered, after I’ve worked so hard, you could make some efforts too, if you weren’t so obsessed with that woman, and hate me unreasonably for not being her, then perhaps you would know!” She left, slamming the door behind her.

Her words repeated over and over in his head, ‘your fault’, true he had approached her first that day...but..and again the thing with disciples, he felt guilt creeping up in his heart, he should have tried harder if she misunderstood him, he should have explained it better, in a few days he saw his aides once again under him, but instead of greeting him like they usually did, they looked at him as if a stranger.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, Li Feng answered “Of course, Sect Leader.” He nodded, not noticing anything odd, except over the next month, he realised they were treating him distantly, he couldn’t share with them what was on his mind, nor any of his opinions, being met with “As Sect Leader wishes.” Was Yu Ziyuan right? Was he the one lacking in communication? But he never had Changze misunderstand him...

In his state, he did not notice rumours spreading about how Jiang Fengmian did not like Yu Ziyuan because he was ‘still in love with another woman’.

Most of time was spent busy with his work, not knowing how to face her again, days became months, he would sometimes reminisce over his past times, feeling guilt weighing him down and pain in his chest, there no reason for him to feel anything out of the ordinary, until one day, when he was sitting in his room while looking down at his garden, the flowers did not bloom, he thought, and he felt a wave of coldness wash over him

Thinking how the once lively Lotus Pier turned into a place of coldness for him, his wife refused to talk to him, his aides and friends looked at him with judgement in their eyes, and then the pain increased unnaturally, until he couldn’t help but take in deep breaths helping to no avail, and then he coughed.

He coughed and coughed until he could feel his lungs bleed and he tasted metal on his tongue, until he could feel thorns scratching his throat as he choked with panic overtaking him, barely able to breath he vomited, instead of feeling his blanket get wet from what he thought was bile, he opened his eyes to be greeted by flowers, lots of carnations, stargazer lilies and purple hyacinths mixed together, covered in blood and vines.

He laughed, he had not laughed since the day he got married to Yu Ziyuan, he laughed and laughed bitterly, tears forming in his eyes, he felt so alone, he thought ‘how good would it be if I could just leave?’, at least, he thought between breaths, at least they are alright, it had been a long time since he had heard from his friends.

--------------------

A year had passed just like that, Yu Ziyuan’s angry scornful comments continued any time he so much as tried to speak to her that he gave up trying, his aides while weren’t exactly the same with him anymore, he did catch them staring at him with concern sometimes, few reassurances had them going back to work.

Hearing knocking at the door, with Yu Ziyuan’s “It’s me”, exhaustion filled him, and his heart skipped a beat with fear, of course it wasn’t that he was afraid of her, but her reaction, her words if she knew, he glanced once at the hiding place of the book and got up to open the door, tired as he did not want to face more of her tirades or whatever she wanted from him.

She walked in, eyes roaming over his room and sat on the edge of his bed, “Fengmian” she began, and he took a deep breath, she wanted to ask for something when she spoke like that, “What is it Third-Lady?” he asked, a bit resigned.

“The people have been talking.” She said a bit curtly, that phrase always sent his thoughts back to when they first talked, and since whenever she uttered it, it was almost always followed by anger, he did not like it at all.

Though reluctant, he still asked weakly “About what, Third-Lady?” she looked away. “Heirs” With that one word, he felt a surge of that unpleasant coldness forming in the pit of his stomach. “‘Heirs?’” he repeated, he had known that one day he would have to consummate their relationship, and he had foolishly avoided it being brought up, with what reason could he deny this?

“Make up your mind, people have been talking, how Fengmian has not touched his wife since her arrival.” She said, turning to look at her, the violet of her eyes made him sick, his thoughts filled with the purple hyacinths covered in blood, he felt breath come short to his lungs. “Give me time, Third-Lady.” He whispered weakly, and winced when he realised it was the wrong thing to say as her expression twisted.

“Do you hear yourself? Always ‘give me time’ whenever I ask you for something, haven’t I given you enough time to come to yourself? Always dazed nowadays!” She snapped and he flinched, “Third-Lady no! I-” She interrupted “Don’t speak over me!” She got up, and walked closer to him, prompting him to take a step back.

“You, always yearning for your beloved it it?” She sniffed and he felt his heart drop, she couldn’t possibly have known, he went alone and- “You...you had people following me??” He whispered, angered, afraid, he did not know what he was feeling, except that he wanted to be far far away from her. Were it the people he once called his aides?

“Does it matter? Who knows when you’d meet up with that wh-” He slammed his hand on the door “Third-Lady, please leave.” He said taking in deep breaths to keep the pain at bay, “Just go” He added when a look of anger overcame her yet again “Fengmian you-” he didn’t let her speak. “You want heirs? Heirs right? Let's talk about that later, out” He pointed to the door, she bit her lips but ultimately left, knowing her words wouldn’t be needed any more having accomplished what she came for.

He closed the door and tried to move to the inside of the room, where he coughed, coughed until blood poured down his mouth, blood until the purple flowers fell from his mouth, it was getting worse than before, he huffed and washed clean the blood, washed cleaned the flowers, a drawer he opened, entirely filled with violet flowers, a reminder of the fool he had been.

He sat on his knees as he stared them, despair heavy on his face, “Ah Changze, what am I supposed to do?”

So, they shared the moment of what should have been their wedding night, he left as soon as morning came, with the urge to vomit yet again at his throat, and it was not entirely due to the diseases spike, he would hope that was the one and only moment time they would ever have to take part in matrimonial duties, for her cutting words didn’t ever seem to hold back, no matter the occasion.

Months passed and confirmation came that she was with child, it was a relief to him, less about acquiring an heir and more not having to deal with the woman, except in her state she was more unbearable than ever but he couldn’t say anything, for he would be met with her rant of “You did this to me!” From her, he fulfilled her every wish, but he couldn’t think to be with her in the same room for more than a few minutes, without bile rising to his throat.

But when the day of the birth came, he sat as she held his arm, as she screamed in pain, that was the least he could do as her husband, suppressing all moments of disgust he felt upon her touch, and after hours and hours, he got to hold his daughter while her mother took rest, and his heart filled with love, his little one, she was his dearest child, Jiang Yanli.

For a few days, things seemed better, Yu Ziyuan seemed to hold back on her anger, he assumed she had been happy as well, how wrong he had been, when she came to him and spoke about betrothal with her Sworn Sister, Madam Jin of Jin Sect, and he felt disbelief coursing his veins and it was the first time he truly raised his voice at her. “No.” he said firmly, no matter how much she yelled or screamed, he refused.

He had said, “Her marriage will done with her own choice, no matter what.” he thought later that had been a mistake, because Yu Ziyuan started to arrange play-dates between Yanli and the Jin heirs son, he still refused, until Jiang Yanli herself came to him, claiming she loved the boy she saw but barely knew anything of, if she did, she would have seen the disdain the boy held for prospect of marriage, the same disdain he saw in Yu Ziyuan.

The woman came to him again, “A-Li likes him, or are you going to deny what you had said?” He wanted to argue, Yanli was barely old enough to understand but knowing Yu Ziyuan, he knew there was no way she would give up, so he agreed, hoping to break it off later in the future, when Yanli was old enough to understand, his daughter would know that there was no love lost between her and the boy.

Until her 3rd birthday, when it became more and more obvious that Yanli could not form a core, and Yu Ziyuan’s anger burned again, he tried to keep Yanli around him more than her, but when she came asking to talk to her daughter, as her mother, he could not refuse, his daughter usually looked down instead of looking at her.

One of those days, when Yu Ziyuan had come to ask, Jiang Yanli held tightly on his clothes and looked at him with her light coloured eyes, Ziyuan’s purple reminded him of poison, of those hyacinths in his lungs, and Yanli’s reminded him of those purple lotuses, that he had grown with love, he made an excuse, and the woman huffed away, “Fine, send her over later then.” He did not, “She was tired.” He said calmly, when Yu Ziyuan later yelled at him.

They had to share the bed once more when the question of heirs was brought up, and he had spent the rest of the day in his room, vomiting, sick to his stomach, both the blood and the food, for the first time since Yanli’s birth. As usual, he cleaned up without letting anyone know.

Nearing the evening, he heard a light knock at his door. “Father?” He heard, Yanli call out, he got up to open the door, and invited his little daughter in, “Father’s not well?” she questioned as she climbed up onto his lap, he patted her head lovingly. “Father is okay. A-Li does not have to worry, but he wonders what has she been doing? I saw her go to the kitchen earlier today.” He pretended to be puzzled.

“A-Li learnt how to make soup from Old Fa!” She said excitedly, holding her hands together. “But Mother says its a servant’s job, she doesn’t like it.” She wilted and he looked at her directly. “Father would love to eat a-li’s soup.” She looked at him hopefully, “I know it’d taste delicious!” She cheered up.

“I made it for father today.” She ran out and came back with a bowl filled with what was..the soup. He drank it anyway and gave a strained smile, “Could use a little less salt” He choked out, and her smile was worth it.

Weeks passed peacefully, he was with Yanli in the kitchen, watching as Old Fa taught her how to knead, cooking was one of the few things that brought a smile to her face, seeing her so excited, he relaxed as well, until Yu Ziyuan joined them, he hadn’t expected her to, given her mindset of it being a servants job, “A-Li you’re doing it wrong.” She said after watching her for a moment, in the same tone of voice as she used when training disciples.

“A-Xuan won’t like it if all you can do is cook, come with me to the training grounds.” She said, he cut her off “A-Li doesn’t have to do everything for him.” And Yu Ziyuan turned to him “If you want her to do a servant job then that's on you, she’s my daughter too, and as the daughter of Violet Spider, she should be able to fight! Not partaking in these weak acts-” He cut her off “Third Lady! Control your words!”

Before he could say more, soft sniffles cut him off, he looked at his daughter, her hands still inside the dough, tears she was trying to wipe on her shoulder, “Third-Lady is not allowed in the kitchen anymore.” He said and watched Old Fa escort her out, not before Yu Ziyuan shouted, “You cannot keep me from training my daughter!” She yelled as if he had ordered her banishment instead.

“No one is keeping you, if you have nothing good to say to a-li, it's better if you stay away from her, Third-Lady, take the day to cool off” He nodded towards the door, “Fine! If you want your daughter to be a weak-” he cut her off “Third-Lady! Leave.” She threw one last look at them and left fuming.

He knelt next to his daughter, pulled her into a hug. “A-Li is sorry Father!” She sobbed, and rubbed her back “A-Li doesn’t have to be sorry, a-li’s mother should be saying sorry.”

“Mother says father doesn’t like a-li” She said after calming down a bit “Because a-li looks like her mother-” he pulled back to look at her in the eye and enunciated his every word, “A-Li is not her mother, a-li is my beloved daughter, and I love everything a-li does” He told her comfortingly.

“A-Li is not weak, a-li is peaceful, there is strength in nurturing and kindness.” Yanli finally seemed to calm down, hiccuping but not sobbing anymore, he wiped her tears away and smiled “Father loves a-li a lot.” he said as he kissed the top of her head.

---------

And then the day came when Yanli’s little sibling came into the world, accompanied by just as much of screaming, but less hours lost, Yanli cooed over her little brother, a tiny little thing in her mother’s arms, she reached out and lightly pressed his cheek, “So small.” Her father chuckled and said “A-Li was also this small when she was born.” Yu Ziyuan showed a rare smile as well, “His name will be Jiang Cheng.” She said.

Things went a bit smoothly after that, even though Ziyuan was the same as always Yanli his beloved daughter was eight years old, and his son, Jiang Cheng was four, his core formed well and he thought Yu Ziyuan had been happy, so he had not expected when she was walked into his room and started yelling,

“Why are you ostracising your son!? Yanli’s going to be married into Jin Sect and yet you spend time coddling her! And you don’t spend the same amount of time with your son?”

He really hadn’t expected her random onslaught, nor where she was coming from, his son was working hard, and he had overlooked his training personally, teaching him the Jiang teachings along with Yu Ziyuan’s own training. “Oh is it because I’m his mother? Because you cannot handle seeing your own son when you want to see a son with her-” Where was she coming from, he felt horrified, “Third-Lady! What’re you saying!?”

The door swung open and their son, Jiang Cheng stood shocked, scared at being caught and tears in his eyes, before he ran away. He turned to her disgust forming heavy, before leaving her where she stood spluttering how she didn’t mean for him to hear her.

He found his son sobbing as Yanli comforted him in his room. “Mother doesn’t mean it.” Yanli told him as she rubbed his back, “She loves you.” He only sobbed louder, “But she’s right, Father likes you more because he hates me. He likes that boy more-” Yanli looked as if she didn’t know what to say, and Fengmian felt confused, who were they talking about?

“No, I absolutely, do not.” He said and his children froze and turned to him, “You do! Why do you make me work more than everyone else!?” His son got up, and lightly started punching him from where he reached his knees while he sobbed, Jiang Fengmian, placed a hand on his shoulder, suppressing the pain in his heart and lungs.

“Because A-Cheng is going to be the Sect Leader, A-Cheng needs to be strong.” He said evenly as his son shook his head. “That’s not what you said to Jie!” and ran to his bed, “A-Cheng listen-” His son turned to look at him with anger “If you did then you wouldn’t have that disease!”

Jiang Fengmian stared at him, too shocked to feel anything. How? Or Why? Did she tell them that?! How did she even- his thoughts cut off as he thought back, if she could send people tailing him, what couldn’t she do?

He looked at his daughter who avoided his gaze, “A-Li?” she answered silently “Mother said Father would replace him for-” She frowned, trying to remember a name, “‘Wei Ying’, the son of your-” She sneaked a peak at him “Your ‘beloved’.” And looked away, as if feeling guilt.

“A-Li, no, I love you both, how can she-” Yanli nodded, “I know that you love us, but A-Cheng thinks Father doesn’t like him because of Mother…” she hesitated. “And that you regret it wasn’t someone else, instead.”

He regretted, he regretted letting his children near Yu Ziyuan’s poisonous words, but the only regret was Yu Ziyuan, not his love for his children, it was not something he would ever regret, he didn’t even know Wei Changze had a son.

“A-Li” He began gently, knowing A-Cheng was listening when his shaking under the blanket stopped, “They were my friends, like you and-” He thought for a second, “-like you and A-Cheng, we grew up together but they were my friends, and you’re my children, I love you both.” He kissed the top of her head and her shoulders dropped in what could only be relief, and reached up to pat Jiang Cheng’s head under the blanket, and left them for a moment.

He knocked on Yu Ziyuan’s door, only to find it open and empty, he walked inside and opened the cabinets and drawers until he found what he was looking for, for her to know she must have- and there they were.

Pages over pages, written in a familiar writing, ranging from containing details of travels, requesting permission to visit, to mentions of ‘Wei Ying’s’ birth, he felt tears form in his own eyes, with his heart filled with overwhelming pain and indignation, he now understood her random bursts, they were each time a letter was received, over jealousy-

Before he could go out and confront her, the pain in his lungs became unbearable, he choked and coughed, no matter how much he tried to restrain it, he coughed until he collapsed to his knees, why now? His body heated up feeling thorns tear at this lungs and throat.

He could barely breath as he vomited, vision fading from the corner of his eyes, he was confused until he caught a look of the flowers he coughed, pure black roses mixed with the hyacinths, the rose thorns dripping with blood, no sign of lilies and carnations, his heart and soul filled with agony and he cried, and then he knew nothing more.

When he woke up, he felt nothing, he knew he hated Yu Ziyuan, but he felt nothing but blank emptiness, when he stared at the woman standing at the door, his children on either side of his bed. “Oh good, that you’re awake.” She hissed as if he was an inconvenience and he found no rage, and he nodded calmly instead.

He knew his friends had passed but he did not, could not feel grief, he knew he loved his children, so he reached out with both his hands, patting them as they muttered apologies while sobbing. “It wasn’t your fault, father was a bit sad, and was already sick, but he’s well now.” He said gently, and once the children left, he looked at the woman who was his wife and said “I’ll bring A-Ying back.”

------------

Authors note

Jfm knew he cared for Wei Ying, yet he felt nothing.

He knew he loved his children, he felt nothing,

He knew he hated his wife, yet he felt, nothing.

---------

So yesterday i was looking through @angstymdzsthoughts and came across platonic hanahaki and thought hey sounds angsty, and thought ‘hey what if jfm had platonic hanahaki for cangse sanren and wei changze?’ i deliberately tried to keep it ambiguous which one he was in love with XD Madam Yu kept assuming and he didn’t give a fuk about correcting her, also like i couldnt bring myself to even write them spending the night together idk y, took a lot of effort lol. Started out with thinking hanaki, got more of JFM’s descent to feeling nothing oof.

Also like it turned out more focus on the fact that even before wwx was brought to lp, there would still be yzy biching and making everyone miserable so-

#mdzs #jiang fengmian #yu ziyuan #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #platonic hanahaki #wei wuxian #worked on typos yet again #wei changze #cangse sanren #my writing #prompted by angstymdzsthoughts post

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 3 years ago

Note

fic title: the girl with flowers in her bones

Izumi learns she has a Quirk age six when the weird bump on her shoulder is inspected by a doctor who cuts it open to reveal a pretty flower.

Said flower quickly changed and becomes deadly, nearly killing a nurse before it’s destroyed.

No one knows how it got there but now people know about it. At first Izumi is happy. She has a Quirk.

Then she isn’t.

“It’s a useless Quirk!” Kacchan taunts her. “Perfect for a useless girl like you! Flowers under the skin! Pathetic!”

Kacchan burns her shoulder and she goes home crying.

Later a flower develops where she’s been burned and after some quiet conversation with Inko about how her husband had left because of Izumi’s Quirkless status and Izumi had heard it, they figured it out.

The flowers bloom when someone hurts her. They bloom and the doctors do a scan revealing many more flowers all over her- some were small and no one could see them. Little hurts the doctors theorized.

They still had to be removed. Izumi has been getting slower, becoming more exhausted each day. It’s the flowers.

Izumi numbly lets it happen.

But it happens again. And again.

Flowers bloom because people keep hurting her. They turn deadly when exposed to the air.

“Freak, monster, liar-“ it’s all shouted at her by her class. Kacchan leads the charge.

His flowers are always an orange lily. Hatred.

Izumi wonders if it means him or her who hates the other. When it becomes a sweet pea, she has a feeling she knows why she is receiving a goodbye.

She stops growing flowers for him. Because she knows she will only get pain from him, because he is no longer one she believes to be a friend.

“The flowers are signs of betrayal,” she changes the classification. “I can only be hurt by those I do not think would hurt me, those I trust. Once I stop trusting or believing they will not hurt me the flowers stop.”

Her mother sobs upon hearing it. Inko then goes and terrifies the Bakugou family, promising that unless Kacchan leaves her alone Inko would go after them.

Kacchan doesn’t listen.

So Inko slaps them with a lawsuit she wins. It’s enough for Izumi to go to a new school where she sits quietly and doesn’t talk.

There people whisper still but it’s sad whispers.

“Her Quirk hurts her.”

“No, it’s people hurting her which sets off her Quirk.”

“She’s so quiet.”

Izumi just works. The only one she trusts is her mother. Inko who tries so hard not to hurt her, who is honest and open. Who gives her books on flowers and smiles.

When Inko hurts Izumi she leaves violets and lavender. And they’re always small, so small. Small hurts, being too honest with her daughter.

Izumi loves her mother for it.

Izumi grows and soon she finds herself applying for UA. She wants to be a hero and her mother frets and admits she isn’t sure if Izumi can do but the two have researched and researched and well, they think they can figure a way out. Sports festival- she just needs to beat all the other students.

She thinks she can. The money they won from the lawsuit had helped Izumi not only get into a new school but also got her into a martial arts studio. Her mother insisted.

Probably was upset with how many flowers Izumi grew from cuts and burns and bruises. Those were the bigger ones, when they were left on purpose. They pushed against the skin, looked strange.

Funny, Izumi noticed that she didn’t gain flowers sparring.

“It’s probably based on intention. When you gain flowers from bruises or cuts and they’re from people doing it to hurt you and betray you, they come as flowers. But when it’s done as a fight or a spar it’s on purpose still but it’s not a betrayal of yourself.” Her Quirk therapist theorizes.

It makes sense.

Izumi goes to UA after failing the entrance exam and ends up in 1C where she finds herself meeting a boy who is like her. Sharp and broken and hurt.

Shinsou is a friend and she finds herself chuckling at his comments.

Their friendship only blooms truly though when she meets Kacchan again. He sees her and attacks, screaming. She fights back. Shinsou speaks and stops Kacchan and Izumi looks at him, seeing something similar back.

The situation ends with Izumi in the principal’s office telling her story. She looks him in the eyes tiredly.

Kacchan is removed from UA- apparently, the lawsuit hadn’t been included in his application.

“It was when he was ten!” His mother tries.

“It still happened and you lied,” Nezu tells her. Izumi isn’t supposed to be there but she went to the office to pick up some papers.

She thinks her homeroom teacher arranged it.

“The papers are supposed to show us if we need to watch out students for anything. You lied on the application.”

Izumi doesn’t know what to think as she slides away. She hasn’t seen Kacchan in years. Hasn’t spoken to him.

Yet he still tried to attack her. He hasn’t learned anything.

Izumi has left him behind. The pain he caused ended any relationship between them.

He is a child. He can learn, if he wishes.

She feels as if she is choking when she runs into someone.

“Ah,” the person says and she blinks at a girl with red and white hair. It’s long and in a braid as she stares at Izumi. There’s a burn scar on her face and as Izumi looks into her eyes she sees the same sort of pain Izumi has.

The girl nods and leaves and Izumi stares after her in confusion.

Then she has to head to class and Shinsou and it’s a mess.

A flower blooms under her cheek as she speaks and she wonders if it’s from the shock someone attacked her at UA or it’s because she always hoped Kacchan would change the longer she left him.

“It’s not the same.” She tells Shinsou. “I was in hell until I was ten and then just isolated after.”

“It’s close,” Shinsou tells her. He touches her cheek and she closes her eyes. “It’s growing?”

“Yeah. It used to be orange lilies. It might be the same now.”

It is. It’s removed by Recovery Girl and Izumi breathes and doesn’t try to think.

She doesn’t know what to think about anything.

She thinks in a way that expelling him was to much. She understands that they lied, that they removed the evidence of the trial. But did they truly know that it counted?

Kacchan is a child and needs to learn things.

At the same time, he tried to attack her.

Her mind feels muddled and confused and Shinsou tries to help but it’s different for him. His bullies were cruel and never stopped and yet he never expected it either to stop.

You can only be betrayed by a friend.

He tries but they fight and eventually he yells that she’s worthless if she wishes to let a boy who hurts her back into UA.

She flinches and he does too.

Shinsou reaches for her but she leaves, feeling sick.

Izumi wanders UA campus after that- a week after the Kacchan incident- a week after the USJ got invaded. With Kacchan in the office the class hadn’t gone to USJ, something all of them expresses relief about.

Izumi wanders and then runs into the red and white girl again. She’s training in the gym that all students are allowed to Izumi wandered to it out of habit. Usually she and Shinsou train- Shinsou finally accepting that he needs to train his body.

He’s not with her though, and she feels her shoulder ache.

Shinsou didn’t mean it, he was angry and didn’t understand. Izumi gets it.

But it still was a hurt.

“... are you okay?” The girl asks and Izumi blinks, realizing she’s been standing in the gym staring off into space.

“I’m fine.” She says. “I got into a fight with my friend.” The girl looks at her and Izumi sighs.

“My Quirk lets me know when I’ve been hurt,” Izumi explains. “The hurts become flowers under my skin. Ever hurt, physical, emotional, mental, minor or major.” Izumi sighs.

“... you were the one Bakugou attacked, the reason we did not go to the USJ.,” The girl says calmly.

“We were friends once. He hurt me badly, and we stopped. He tried again, my mom sued him and his family and they didn’t put the trial in his transcripts. So he’s been expelled and I just… I feel bad for him. He’s hurt me but I cared for him once and is it fair that he was a child when this happened and he’s still himself a child?” Izumi sighs. “Sorry. I-“

“I have similar feelings to my brother and mother.” The girl offers. Her face is slightly blank. She looks at Izumi, cocking her head slightly. “My father is not a nice man and he’s only stopped hurting us due to blackmail my eldest brother has given. I’m under the custody of my second eldest brother. My other siblings were deemed unsuited and my mother is in a mental health institute.”

“Oh!” Izumi blinks. “You didn’t-“

“You told me.” The girl shrugs. “I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

“Midoriya Izumi.”

It’s the start of something.

From the hurt Shinsou dealt jasmine is dug from Izumi’s skin and he apologizes over and over again. She tells him it’s not okay but she understands he didn’t truly mean it.

It makes her sad still.

She and Todoroki meet from time to time in the gym, speaking. Sometimes Shinsou joins them, sometimes not. He wishes to keep his Quirk private, wishing to get into the hero course like Izumi wishes.

Todoroki is kind, Izumi finds. She’s standoffish and blunt but she’s kind.

Her story is a sad one, told over gym meetings. Her father is Endeavour and he wished to overcome All Might. He had children to force it, and the abuse he placed his family through broke her mother.

Todoroki loves her mother. She loves her dearly but cannot face her.

“I used to blame myself, thinking it might be my fault she burned me. Natsuo, my brother, he got me into therapy and I’ve learned it wasn’t. I was a child, it was not on me. And yet my mother is ill.” Todoroki explains. “I care deeply for her but… I can’t face her right now. Because I have learned it is not my fault what she did and I have to adjust.”

Her brother, her eldest brother Touya, is a different story.

“He blamed me for the abuse. Said it was all my fault, hated the fact I was a girl too. Kept going on I was a screw-up, that I was disgusting. He’s in therapy to now but… I don’t talk to him. Ever if I can help it. Natsuo says he’s getting better but he won’t make me do anything. My sister keeps trying to get us to forgive our dad. We don’t want to.” Todoroki tells her. “It’s a mess.”

Todoroki doesn’t know what to do herself. Her brother was young when he became angry, and her mother ill. Neither were fully at fault, and yet she struggles.

It’s nice to talk to someone who understands.

Their friendship grows and Izumi wonders why it feels different then from her and Shinsou.

Yet as she watches Todoroki smile, she thinks she knows.

At the sports festival, Izumi and Shinsou manage to get to the tournament. They manage to claw their way to the semi-finals, determining who will go on to compete for first.

Shinsou insults her, curses her. And then he confesses.

Izumi keeps her mouth shut and shoved him out, even as she feels the flowers begin to bloom.

She does tell him she doesn’t feel the same.

“I know,” Shinsou tells her. “It’s Todoroki. You two smile all the time around each other, you laugh and have fun.” He shrugs sadly. “I just wanted to be honest.

Izumi accepts it, and later she finds the flowers to be yellow tulips.

One-sided love.

Yet first comes the finals, where Izumi screams at Todoroki to use her fire, even as the girl refuses to use it.

“I won’t use his power!” She yells.

“It’s not his! It’s yours!” Izumi cries back.

It’s chaos and destruction and in the end, Izumi has a silver medal.

And she has a smile she treasures.

It’s not love, not yet. But it has a chance to be.

A chance they cultivate, a chance they find becoming stronger and stronger as time goes on. As she and Shinsou enter the hero course, as she fights to protect a boy she barely knows on the streets of Hosu, protecting her hero mentor as well.

It’s a chance she takes, kissing Todoroki after the final exams. Todoroki accidentally burns her in shock and feels horrible.

Izumi treasures the fact a red rose blooms under her skin.

#bnha #bnha au #fic title ask game #lesbian izuku #they're lesbians #tododeku #anti bakugou

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bridgertonbabe · 3 years ago

Text

Daphne and Simon’s Children

Amelia Basset came into the world as the first Bridgerton of a new generation and was heavily fussed over not only by her parents but by her grandmother Violet and her adoptive grandmother Lady Danbury. While she inherited her father’s dark curly hair, she had the same doe eyes as her mother, as well as her heart-shaped face. Being the first child/grandchild/niece of the family meant she was spoiled rotten until she was followed by her two younger sisters quick succession. Sure, she had thrown tantrums as a growing toddler when her infant sisters captured their parents attention more than Amelia but after a while, the eldest Basset girl realized she could use her status as the oldest child to her advantage. She loved bossing her younger siblings about, forcing them all to partake in her tea parties and helping herself to whatever toys they may have in their bedrooms. As she got older she began to shadow her mother, mimicking everything she did, from the way she was poised to the way she politely laughed when she didn’t find a person funny but didn’t want to be rude. It greatly entertained Simon just how much Amelia was turning into Daphne 2.0, but it also softened his heart when the little girl emulated his wife’s kindness when she spent an entire day picking out posies of flowers from the Clyvedon gardens to hand out to their tenants. Amelia adored growing up in the country and was a very confident equestrian and loved more than anything to accompany her father on his morning rides during her adolescence. As she neared the age of making her debut, she attempted to mold herself into being as accomplished a young lady as she could be, knowing securing a respectable husband would pave the way for her younger sisters when they debuted in the following years. She took up cross-stitching (and while good, grew bored after completing a couple), the piano forte (she envisioned being as talented as her mother, but after a while realized she wasn’t all that passionate about the instrument), and art (she attempted a drawing of Clyvedon’s lake and then never picked up her sketchbook again). Her parents assured her that she needn’t be so focused on being a lady with a plethora of talents; all she needed was to be her charming and eloquent self. Naturally, upon her debut presentation she is named diamond of the first water, just like her mother before her. Simon gets his reckoning when every eligible gentleman of the Ton lines up at Hastings house to pay his daughter a visit, to which Anthony gifts him a bottle of whiskey.

Belinda Basset came into the world screaming her tiny lungs out and the poor babe suffered from colic for the first six weeks of her life, much to her parents anguish. They hadn’t endured much with Amelia, but with their new infant daughter, Daphne did truly question her capabilities as a parent. Simon stepped up to the plate when he saw his loving wife’s utter despair, and insisted to the nurse maids that he would see to little Belinda himself. He held and comforted her, taking her everywhere with him; to visit the tenants, while he worked away in his office, even taking her for strolls around the garden. Though she cried and cried, Simon kept her attached to him, until one morning he awoke and Belinda was sound asleep, the first time the Hastings residents had awoken to such calm since she was born. Those early days of devotion created an unbreakable bond between Simon and his second eldest daughter. She was more of a tomboy than her older sister and loved play-fighting with her father as they took their daily stroll around the Clyvedon estate. From a young age Belinda was quite outspoken and was never shy when it came to voicing her dislike for vegetables, itchy dresses, and her older sister. The pair butted heads quite often, though over the years into their adulthood they did learn to form a mutual respect for one another. In many ways Belinda had taken after her Aunt Eloise in spirit, turning her nose up at the thought of having to attend balls and society events when her first season came. She always kept a book handy when attending the Ton’s events, much to her mother and Amelia’s disapproval. She often opined that she would never have the desire to marry and quite liked the idea of becoming an eccentric, something which she mentioned regularly in her correspondence with her favourite aunt, Eloise. Daphne asked of her sister to encourage Belinda to at least entertain the many men who offered marriage to her, to which Eloise laughed whole-heartedly back in her face. Much like her aunt, Belinda spent most of her days responding to and sending out letters to her many relatives; her ink-stained hands a familiar sight in the Basset home. As for her appearance, Belinda was as beautiful as her sisters, though she had a more striking, dark, and distinguished look to her that for ages her parents could not work out who she resembled. It wasn’t until she attended her first ball, where she was all dressed up and demure, that Lady Danbury let out a rare gasp. Belinda Basset was the spit of her late grandmother, and Lady Danbury’s dearest friend.

Caroline Basset was a far easier baby than her sister Belinda. With a sulky two year old and a constantly babbling one year old, Caroline was a breath of fresh air for her parents, who would race each other just to see to her so that they could get a breather from their other, more vocal daughters. Caroline slept for hours on end, would breastfeed for well over a half hour, and only emitted a cry to alert someone to a full nappy. She and her oldest sister looked very much alike, the only real noticeable differences were the freckles that peppered Caroline’s cheeks and the blue eyes she got from her mother. Growing up she was a very quiet child, a respectful and diligent pupil, and a faithful and trustworthy companion for all of her siblings. Perhaps it was because she was more of a listener than a talker (unlike her sisters) but everyone favoured Caroline’s calming presence and relied on her for emotional support. She was much more sensible than either of her sisters, and it was common for the Hastings staff to walk in on Amelia and Belinda wrestling one another while Caroline blocked them out with her nose stuck in a book. Much like her sisters, she took great comfort in being out in nature and thoroughly loved her stays at Aubrey Hall, My Cottage, and Romney Hall - but her favourite place to holiday was up in Scotland on the Kilmartin estate. She adored her Aunt Francesca (and was secretly in love with her Uncle Michael) and the pair would take long walks together through the Scottish hills. If it wasn’t for the nearly twenty-year age gap, Caroline could have been her aunt’s twin in the identical way that they carried themselves and quietly got on with things. As a teenager Caroline was the only one of her siblings to take up playing an instrument; the violin, and she disciplined herself into practicing until she had perfected her music scores. During Christmases at Aubrey Hall she would accompany either her mother or Francesca playing the piano forte, Anthony on the trumpet, and Kate on the flute; much to the earache of Uncle Phillip, who just wanted to nurse his scotch in peace. Caroline turned out to be the most business-minded of her siblings and in her adolescence asked her father if she could accompany him on his visits to the tenants. Simon was more than happy to entertain her curiosity and even invited her to sit in with him in his office when he went over the books; an offer which she eagerly took up. She regularly paid visits to her dad in his study to assist in the various paperwork, and as she got older she would even offer to take on some of the workload, in order to give him a break. It came as no surprise to Simon when Caroline got married and insisted on equally handling the management of her new estate, a stipulation her besotted husband happily obliged with.

David Basset was born and the Hastings dukedom was instantly secured. He had the same handsome face as his father and also the Duke’s shy disposition. Of all his children Simon feared his son would suffer with a stammer much like he did as a boy, and worried about history repeating itself by being a poor father to a child who needed his unwavering support. Fortunately, David had no trouble speaking, and the first word he uttered was; “papa”, which put Simon on cloud nine. Though he had no trouble speaking, David was a timid child who took his time being at ease with new people, and would frequently shut down altogether in social situations he found uncomfortable. Simon recognized when his paternal guidance was needed and assured his son that while it’s natural for nerves to get the better of people, putting himself in more social situations will aid his insecurities as the more practice he gets from talking to and being around new people, the better he’ll be able to cope with it as he gets older. For his first season Simon stuck by his son’s side for moral support and he also had assistance from David’s favourite sister, Belinda, who enjoyed socializing with members of the Ton as much as he did. Daphne also lent a hand in encouraging her son’s confidence by hiring a dance teacher for him to perfect the many dances he may partake in at the many, many balls the Ton boasted every season. He was very hesitant at first, until he walked in to his first dance lesson and found Edmund, Miles, and Charles all gathered to learn alongside him, and soon his weekly dance lessons became his favourite part of the week with all the fun he had rehearsing with his cousins. As the future duke, his father would get David to shadow him in order to learn the duties he would one day have to perform himself, an idea that came about when Caroline began showing an interest in the running of the estate. David wasn’t as certain about the many tasks his father had to see to everyday, but once again Simon was there to assure him that he himself understood none of it when he inherited the dukedom. His son was reminded of how lucky he was to have a father as supportive as Simon was and it was his most cherished relationship, until David met his future wife.

Edward Basset was a big surprise to his family when he was born seventeen years after his sibling closest in age, David. Simon had previously mocked his brother-in-law, Anthony, for having little Mary as he neared his fifties - so naturally Anthony returned the favour when Simon became a father again at the age of fifty. Little Edward kept Simon and Daphne on their toes; neither one being able to remember if having a young child was this difficult when they had their first twenty years previously. Edward had a lot of energy which his parents couldn’t always keep up with, and out of guilt Daphne coddled him more than she had done with her other four children (plus she wanted to cherish her last baby as much as she could). For his sixth birthday Edward was given a basset hound puppy as a playmate, to make up for the fact that his four siblings were already all married, with his sisters all having children of their own. He and Wally loved to cause mayhem all about the grounds of Clyvedon; from jumping into the algae-riddled lake, splashing in mud in the rain and making a mess, to chasing a herd of wild deer through the estate when the extended family came to visit one summer. “Darling, do you think we let Eddie get away with too much?” Daphne asked her husband. Behind them, Edward was pulling by his hands and Wally by his mouth the blanket where Gregory’s baby twins slept. “Yes.” came the uniform answer of Amelia, Belinda, Caroline, and David, as Gregory and Michael ran after the basset hound and the youngest Basset child. During the Bassets’ twenty-three years of marriage, no child of theirs had ever had the misfortune of walking in on the couple during their love-making - that was, until Edward. At seven years old he walked into his parents bedchambers, saw his father’s bare bottom, and charged at it with his toy wooden sword. Suffice to say, the misfortune of the incident was all Simon’s when a nurse had to pluck splinters from him. As he grew into his adolescence, Edward evolved into somewhat of a daredevil, regularly sauntering into the dining room at mealtime with new cuts and bruises. His parents had long ago given up enquiring how he had acquired all his new injuries, simply choosing to marvel at the resilience of their son’s body. Edward had a cocksure confidence to him that his brother lacked when he was his age and had a gift to charm his way out of all sorts of trouble he regularly found himself in. His effortless charm matched his appearance as though he was as handsome as his brother, he had a more rugged and ruffled look to him that captured the hearts of many young ladies of the Ton. While David took after their father, Edward’s looks were more similar to the Bridgerton side of the family. Simon’s blood ran cold when his son returned home from Cambridge sporting sideburns, and in a certain light all the Duke of Hastings could see was a younger version of his best friend, brother-in-law, and the man who once made to shoot at him in a duel; Anthony Bridgerton. After this horrific epiphany Simon announced he was turning in early - it was only half four in the afternoon.

#bridgerton #bridgerton drabble #simon x daphne #saphne #simon basset #daphne bridgerton #daphne basset bridgerton #amelia basset #belinda basset #caroline basset #david basset #edward basset #wally the basset hound #clyvedon #bridgerton the next generation

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

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Belle Of The Ball: Dark! King! Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: So this my first ever proper dark fic and I’m so nervous. I finished it but my mind thinks it’s garbage. so I’m gonna post this now when I’m feeling a random spurt of courage and am confident in my work. So here’s my masterpiece, cookies.

This is for Dark!MCU Festive Fic swap hosted by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @darkmcuficswap

My giftee is @hermesmaximoff Hope you enjoy it love!

Thanking @firefly-graphics for the dividers: both personalised and general.

There is also an amateur somewhat okay shitty poster I decided to make which is included at the end.

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC CONTAINING DUBIOUS CONSENT BORDERING NON-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. LOSS OF VIRGINITY, ABUSE OF AUTHORITY, BREEDING KINK ALSO PRESENT.

Summary: Invited to the Royal ball by the benevolent monarch, you could barely control your excitement to visit the Capital. While you were busy admiring his prosperous reign, King Steve was quite occupied getting enamoured by you. As you try to fulfil the King’s demands, secrets find their way out.

CHARACTERS + GENRE: DARK!STEVE ROGERS X READER, SUPERNATURAL STEVE ROGERS X READER (read to find out what), ROYAL AU, HALLOWEEN THEME (I tried for the request, hope you do like it)

King Steve Rogers invites the princes and the princesses of all Kingdoms, near and afar,

To celebrate his several years of reign.

He requests thy kind and noble presence

At the joyous regale

of his auspicious ball

On the thirty first of October,

after sundown, in His Majesty’s finest castle.

Challenging thy with the unique theme of

A Halloween Masquerade Ball,

The King expects exceptional indulgence from all.

The Most Grandiose Halloween Celebration is being organised with the spookiest of events within.

Come here if you dare.

“We have been invited to a royal party! My day couldn’t have been better!” Your elder sister exclaimed, jumping quite unladylike in your chambers, as you went through the details of the venue. You chuckled at her antics, knowing rather well that she would be scolded if someone else was present.

“Emma, Mother has to approve first. As Lady Ava always says, don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“As if mother would really decline an invite from the King, dear sister.” She rolled her eyes at you, not letting her enthusiasm die as you pondered over her words.

Your sister had a point though, the King summoning your presence was not to be taken lightly. The invitation came up handwritten in a scroll with the King’s wax seal atop it. It was placed elegantly beside a golden mask in a rectangular black box, that bore the Majesty’s sigil on the front.

The theme of the ball wasn’t that peculiar if you reflected over it, the renowned monarch was also recognised for his distinct interest in eerie, unearthly beings. He was known for adventuring into haunted lands, mysterious manors and sinister soils, meeting up with people rumoured to be sorcerers and occultists.

Of course, the reason for his encounters was sometimes rumoured to be because of his familial distress, how he couldn’t find a mate to procreate with and conceive his own heir no matter what. Three females, who were pregnant with a progeny of his blood, none his wife though, had died during the first two or tercet months, reason unspecified why.

Coming to You, you and your sister weren’t actual princesses, rather the daughters of one of the esteemed Ministers in the King’s cabinet. The benevolent King, however referred to the daughters of the town, more exactly, the Kingdom, as noblewomen. He held high reverence for the females and was the sole creditor to the improved condition of the women in this era. No matter how troubled his own life was, the King was the most merciful royal to be crowned to date, his people prospering under him.

Your sister nodded eagerly to your mother, drinking in her words like the fine tea you all had in the afternoons, while you just smiled at her advice.

When you both met your mother for dinner, you were surprised to find her already informed about the invitation. Her conformity to the celebration astonished you even more, but Emma’s zeal was starting to rub off on you too by the end of the meal.

Your mother continued, “Your father mentioned The Majesty is looking for a wife, quite possibly. He has been insistent in trying to get a successor the correct way this time, by courting the lady who piques his interest. Even though this might be a rumour, or some gossip spun by the ladies of the Cabinet, you both should try your best to be graceful and presentable. Among the hundreds of guests, he’d be having over, on the off-chance, if Gods allow, that either of you manages to entice him, it will only promise you the most pleasant of all forthcomings. It would also do me and your father some good, if you managed to find some other suitable bachelor, from a nice background to engage with.”

Your sister had always been one with the more overactive imagination out of you two, while you had been the more serene and poised one. When she’d be out playing with the children in your town, you’d be talking to the younger toddlers, drawing with chalks on the side. For every kid she splashed with water in the nearby sapphire river, you made tots flower crowns. These were the values you both grew up with, and these will be the values you’d die with.

After days of shopping velvet fabrics and silk textiles, and bothering your seamster to make sophisticated and stylish dresses, you both neared your day of departure. After some instructions to you both to represent your father and town well, your mother bid you adieu. It was nerve wracking to not have your mother by your side, for an event as big as this was, but since you both had passed more than twenty name days, you were expected to be proper, independent ladies.

With a heavy heart and some self, positive affirmations, you and your sister embarked on the voyage, which was filled with her chitchat.

You only hoped that the gala was as exciting as your family made it out to be. That it was just a King trying to celebrate his sovereign with some western festival integrated together. That the event would not be as unnerving and creepy as the last line of his invitation made it out to be.

For some unknown cause, it did not sit well with you. Your apprehensive intuition made you wary of the invitation for some reason, but you let your sibling’s zest take you over. What benefit would fretting get you?

The ball was far more pompous than anything you’d have imagined in your little head. All the ideas that Emma had come up with during your journey, to anticipate the extent of extravagance for the ball, were all exceeded with tenfold finesse. You had travelled to faraway, distant lands with your parents, but the King’s mansion, with all the festivity happening, was truly a sight to behold.

Entering The Capital had been the highlight of your excursion, you were sure earlier, but well you were proved wrong. Your father greeted you both when you had arrived, eager to see his angels after almost six moons, and had ensured you both got the best of the accommodations in the well-built, enormous fort. He introduced you to several of his comrades as well as their brooding, young lads and then, left you both to rest for the main event next eve. With two maids at your every beck and call, courtesy of your father, your time went smoothly and now you found yourself at the said Halloween themed celebration, staring around in awe of every little detail that had been so meticulously handled to make the event as dazzling as it was.

The servants were dressed rather ridiculously as cats, wearing some bizarre structure resembling cat ears, horribly short black dresses barely past their thighs and some whiskers draw using either coal or makeup, you weren’t sure. It was a poor attempt to make them appear feline. However, the food was as immaculate as everything else, entirely themed like only blood red wine, candied apples, chicken pumpkins, cheesecake brain, mummy muffins, some appetizer with bell peppers as jack-o-lanterns; these were the few that met your sights.

The hall was so grand, almost the size of three jousting arenas and playing fields combined with pillars having detailed architecture supporting the place. The walls were covered in scarlet, golden and black velvet drapes, the royal colours, and beautiful masquerade masks were pinned atop them, along the walls. Almost hundred round, white clothed tables filled the ballroom, with gold plated candlesticks and utensils upon them. The entire place had entertainers progressing around, the essence of it being magicians, clowns, contortionists, palm and tarot card readers.

In the centre of the hall, was an empty space, reserved for the soon to be ensuing dancing. An orchestra on the side had beautiful instruments, playing soft melodies for now, reserving the upscale beats for later.

You had only read a few books on Halloween to be prepared but nothing could have geared you up for this. Your small-town self was gaping at everything with a childlike wonder while somehow your sister was quite composed and calm, somehow your roles had been reversed.

Emma was wearing a blue gown, having several layers of nets and cloth, each a different shade of azure. She tried to dress as the mythical creature called mermaid, with crystal heels and a beaded neckline. Her masquerade mask had scales like fish, made using shining sequins. She looked so gorgeous, truly managing to look captivating.

You on the other hand were dressed like an angel, which you were against, finding it too mainstream and typical and wanted to dress like an enchantress with violet and jade colours, which your mother immediately negated. On demand of your sister, she let you wear a fluffy white ball gown, and had you made wings with dove feathers, an apparatus which was astonishingly light to wear. Using her art and craft skills, Emma made you a headband with two wires attached to a metal ring, shaped like an angel’s halo. The loop at top made of some special metal that glowed golden in the dark, making it look like a real, floating halo. Your mask had a fur lining on it, and silver sparkles were sprinkled all over you, with pretty makeup on your face, courtesy of your sibling.

The change in music brought you out of your reverie, as trumpets and harps began to hum, signifying the arrival of the King on the grand staircase. He had a crimson red velvet cape descending his broad shoulders, his tuxedo underneath could hide neither his long legs nor his bulging, protruding biceps. His black, shining shoes cost more than your entire apparel, you were certain.

As your gaze ascended his masculine form, you were mesmerised furthermore with his high cheekbones, full lips tainted cherry pink, a Grecian slanting nose, sleek eyebrows, luscious blonde hair, a thick beard and the best of all yet, cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest you’d ever seen in the entirety of your small life. The ladies beside you, Emma included, had the same reaction whether they had witnessed his Highness before or not. Every female’s gaze seemed to flicker between his azure eyes and the Golden crown resting atop his blonde locks, flooded with rubies and emeralds and gemstones you weren’t sure your books had.

For a moment you felt his eyes land on you, which surprised you even more so, that you questioned yourself about it, but his cheeky grin and wink confirmed it, make you shiver involuntarily as heat spread through your face while a titillating stir ran through you, a first for you. His impeccably white teeth were clearly visible now, showing two elongated canines, which finally gave you a sense of his attire, paired with his blush lips, A Vampire.

He spoke a few words, eyes unsteadily wavering, observing different members of the gathering. He let the dances commence, partnering with his most suitable match at the festivity, the daughter of the wealthiest lord. After the first song was over, other couples joined alongside him while you stood at the side, observing everything. Only mere moments ago had your sister been courted by a young man, the two of them shooting each other coy glances since they had entered.

A tap on your shoulder had you puzzled, you turned around focus landing on warm, brown eyes. You recalled him to be Lord Stark’s son, Peter, having met him yesterday at dawn. His familiar brown eyes gave you sense of comfort, which you liked, not being alongside Emma now.

“Shall we?” He asked, his cheeks ruby like yours were, as he extended the palm of his hand towards you. You giggled, smiling like a little babe who got extra cookies for dessert, and accepted his hand. Sauntering to the dancing arena, you only prayed to The Heavens above that Lady Ava taught you enough to embarrass neither yourself nor your guild.

Tracing his steps and following his lead, you did manage to dance without falling, which was a surprise seeing how spread out your wings were. You and him made easy conversation, about your hometowns and interests. You saw your Father proudly looking at you and Emma, dancing with lads, you guessed, he approved of.

As the song ended and the orchestra played a transitioning tune between the melodies, a cough sounded beside you as you and Peter stopped. Your eyes widened as you nervously curtsied beside Peter, A ‘Your Majesty” falling from both your lips.

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I share a dance with the most stunning dame here?”

Peter politely stepped back, letting go of your waist, as The King’s wide stature more than filled his place. Your heart was beating rather loudly, blood pumping to your ears as you tried to make sense of what was happening. In your peripheral vision you could see the prying eyes of others looking at you both, ready to criticize you for one wrong move. Your father watched intently, a slight warning in his eyes to not mess this opportunity up while your sister comfortingly smiled at you. You tried to even your breaths and make sense of what he was saying, to not just stand and gape like a fool in court.

As the harmony played out, he swayed you around, lifting you up and twirling you around. Compliments spewed out from his lips, making you crimson like freshly ripened apples. You couldn’t keep up with your expression of gratitude through your words as he admired your eyes, your elegance and your ensemble which just couldn’t make him shift his eyes from you.

After two songs had played out, he left as suddenly as he had come, with a promise to meet you later. You watched him dance with other maidens, who approached him when you were dancing together, entertaining every approaching lady like an excellent host.

You made your way to the side, hoping to get some liquor, or at least some fluid in your veins and not faint right there this moment. Emma came up beside you while you were having wine, and rubbed your back in a parental way. Her eyes communicated her understanding of how overwhelmed you felt at the instant. Her date and Peter soon came and kept you both company for the rest of the night. As duos danced and people got intoxicated, you had to call it a night on behalf of your sister, her incessant giggling make you worried for her inebriated self.

You slipped her out before your father caught her and gave her a stern talking to and tucked her in her bed keeping a glass of water and some fresh fruits for her on the bedside wooden bench. You concluded retiring for the night yourself but only after assuring your father of your whereabouts and well beings. Before returning to the hall, you took off your wings and the halo, also opting to leave the mask behind as the fur tickled your skin. Your makeup hadn’t ruined in the heat of the hall, it was a miracle. You made your way to the Hall, hoping to find your father, assumingly drunk with all his entourage.

Two hallways before the decorated ballroom were you pinned to the wall, one hand of your attacker covering your parted lips while the other held your face delicately, with a lover’s touch. A split second was all it took for you to be immobilised by this man and another by your wavering form to recognise the cobalt blue eyes and blonde curls. When The King was certain you wouldn’t scream, his hand left your mouth slid upwards, mirroring his other hand, with thumbs in front of your ears and palms resting on your cheeks.

“Your Majesty?” You mumbled back, your voice somehow even lower, afraid for yourself and even more so terrified to offend him.

“Say, would you come for a while to my chambers, the view of the creek from my balcony is splendid.”

His choice of words gave you an option, but his eyes, almost hypnotically told you there was only one correct answer.

“You are the one, I can feel it.” He whispered lowly but your heightened senses gladly picked it up.

You meekly nodded, your inner self surprised at your body moving of its accord alongside him, as your mind started voiding of thoughts like reporting to your father, checking up on Emma. You felt like you were trapped in someone else’s form and fought with an invisible force to take over the reins of your own body.

You did not fail to notice the lack of guards outside the King’s chamber and how every entrance managed to open itself. The King wasn’t lying about the picturesque scene though, as you stood in the balcony, hair getting ruffled by the strong breeze that seemingly came from nowhere.

Your body stiffened as King Steve came uncharacteristically close to you and slid his hands around your middle, his nose nestled in your locks, inhaling deeply.

His lips descended your neck, laying feathery kisses on his path as you stood there, unable to even move your hands or turn around. This out of body sensation was broken when you felt intense pain on piercing of your skin where your head met your torso. You suddenly gained all wits and enough strength to flail your limbs around but all your might wasn’t enough to even stir the man from his task. Your throat couldn’t gather enough energy to scream, though you doubted anyone would come. You started getting light headed and only then did he stop, carrying you in his arms to his widespread four poster bed, mattress as soft as sponge and sheets as silky as butter. Too weak to fight him off, you harvested all your energy in staying conscious as your gaze danced around, trying to make sense of every object present but not awake enough to notice too many details. The wine you drank did not make it any better.

As you laid on the stranger’s bed, you felt his body sit beside you, holding your neck; leaning down, his lips meeting yours for the first time. You did not reciprocate, neither did you have the strength nor the will, while his tongue slipped inside your mouth, roaming around like a traveller in foreign land.

As the kiss drew on, you felt some energy sidle inside you, enough for your mind to function again but not ample enough to fight off the brawny thief who robbed you of your first kiss. King Steve broke off the kiss and connected your foreheads together, his indigo eyes turning black in want, leaving you a frightening and gasping mess.

He backed away, sitting more straighter now as his hand drew back from around your neck and slid along your stomach, nearing the most intimate part of your body, even though there were still layers of cloth present. His hands did not stop there, however, and made their way downwards only stopping at the hem of your gown and slipping inside.

You shrieked out suddenly, becoming aware of his intentions quite late and grasped his wrist that rested now on your knee.

“Your Majesty, I……I can’t-”

“Do you wish to refuse your King?”

You looked down, caught in the dilemma of wanting your safety and offending him once again. Your virtue had to be preserved till marriage, your mother had taught you, but on the other hand, the King’s words were the law.

“Answer Me.” The King’s cold voice broke through your thoughts, not a shout but still scarier than a yell.“

Your Majesty, I’ve never engaged in s-” You started tearing up, lower lip wobbling and body shaking at the thought of the future. You did not see this ending beneficial in any scenario. If you lost your virtue, you would never get wed but if you refused the King and he felt insulted, your family and your connections would be in the ruins, he held that much power over you.

Cradling your face with his other hand, he began again, “You think I’m not already aware, pretty one?” The man who was reprimanding you only few moments ago upon not answering him, had a smile on his face this time: not assuring or comforting, but malicious and sinister to its very core. “I could smell your untainted scent from my room, before even descending the stairs.”

“Your e-eyes..” You gaped again as colours morphed in his eyes, red now swirling around in the pools of darkness, his words lost on you as you felt your fear rising due to the inhumane action.

“For an intellectual, bibliophilic girl, you sure are oblivious, sweetheart.” He scoffed, looking unimpressed at you, “Come on, prove to me you aren’t heedless like the rest, draw the conclusion." His eyes held yours, again altering into hues of different colours, seemingly mocking you now.

You don’t know how the thought jumped into your head, maybe because the two holes on your neck stung suddenly or because the automatically opening doors entered your mind, the contemplation that his fangs appeared so realistic and authentic the more you stared at them paired with the blood on his collar, not just the fresh red stain of your plasma but also the burgundy stain present there, giving his lips the cherry red shade you admired hours ago on his arrival at the event.

“This is not a co-costume, no-” You inhaled a quick breath, “you are a vampire.” Your face paled in realisation while he smirked proudly, tapping your knee in a weird, twisted form of appreciation.

“Tremendous, my dear. But only half, you see. My mother was one, yes, but my father, he gave me an even better ability, he was an Incubus.” You shuddered as the words sunk in, your only worry being staying alive now, when your life was in the hands of this sex demon, having the greatest of powers and strength. Your mind did not spend any time mulling over the existence of supernatural beings, only dwelling on possible escapes now.

“That is why even your untouched body couldn’t help but react to my form and it is also the very reason, that I can read what goes on in your mind, all your memories, your hobbies, every book you’ve read, your precious sister, Emma isn’t it? So please, do not even think about fleeing if you don’t want your family to suffer.”

The threat loomed in the air, nasty sobs wracking your body as his thumb came to wipe the tears off. His hands started undoing the lace on the front of your bodice as you sniffled. Managing to quieten down just a bit, you begged, “Please don’t do this, I’ll have nowhere to go if my family found about me partaking in this unholy deed before marriage.” You had little hope about him seeing reason but there was optimism nonetheless.

“Darling, do not fuss that I’ll leave you unhinged and deserted after finding pleasure in your body, you are to be mine now. Essentially, you already are.” His lips claimed yours again as the front of your dress slackened, bundling around your waist.

You pulled back, surprised at his promise, “You mean that?” He nodded, coming to kiss you again. You turned so that his lips met your neck, tongue licking the salt residue of tears there. “In what sense?”

“In every sense you could think of and more. I’ll give you everything, make you my queen, would you like that?” He mumbled in your neck, tongue now soothing the two punctured cavities residing there.

You could feel yourself crossing your legs involuntarily, trying to caress the abrupt yearning in your intimate part, your underclothes dousing with wetness somehow. Steve smirked in your neck, sitting upright and playing his trump card.

“I’ll marry you and we’ll rule together with the plenty of successors you’ll give me. Won’t that make your parents proud? Isn’t that what your parents taught you? Catch the King’s eye?” You meekly nodded, his charisma of an Incubus winning you over. “I’ll make your father The King’s Hand and send your mother the finest of jewels and gems, satins and silks.” He looked over at your submissive form, looking at him with the innocence of a toddler, swayed by his promises.

“I’ll let your sister have a grand wedding with the man she dears. All you have to do is surrender yourself to me and be my Queen, rule alongside me. So I ask, will you?” You cut him off, your lips pressing against his as you tried to mimic his earlier movements. He held your waist, surprised but pleasantly so, crushing the layers of the rolled top half of your dress underneath his hands. You had very little idea about what bedding someone meant but you had this primal urge to not have any skin of yours covered or untouched by him.

Steve shed his cape and threw every cloth on his torso away, almost as eager as you to get skin to skin contact. Your hands tangled in his hair as he lifted you up and sat you in his broad lap, not before sliding your dress all the way down. As he broke the kiss and took in your body, parts of you hidden under the smallclothes, he let out a growl that frightened yet excited you with another shiver down your spine.

He made quick work of his bottoms, his cock standing and reaching his muscled chest almost and you gaped. Your sister, Emma had informed you of men’s parts being far much smaller than what you had just witnessed. His member stood erect and proud, glistening as he pumped it with his fist. His eyes drank in your surprise and trepidation, getting amused and turned on even more.

You still laid stretched across the bed, legs straight ahead of you while your torso rested on your elbows, eyes wary of his every next movement. He eyed your scantily clad body, gaze filled with lust and nothing more and climbed between your legs, one hand coming down on your waist while the other grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a possessive kiss, robbing you of your breath. Your mind was slowly registering the reality of it all, this was going to happen no matter what. You were going to sin by engaging in fornication. But is it really wrong if your benevolent king demands that of you?

His hand sliding from your face to your bosom distracted you from your chain of thoughts. He slid the cups of your garment revealing your nipples and took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his other pinched the abandoned one. You didn’t know if you should be more surprised at his actions or the rush of the feelings that ran through you.

He slowly released your nipple and trailed soft kisses down your stomach to your most intimate part yet, kissing it through the cloth there. His delicate touch was abruptly contrasted with him grabbing the fabric, tearing it into two and revealing you bare.

You closed your legs out of instinct but his heavily muscled hand took them apart in a single push. He eyed you with a warning, to not obstruct him anyhow anymore.

“Let me taste that sweet nectar of yours, sweetheart. I really want to find out if it is as addictive as my senses picked it up, as sweet as the aura that surrounds you.”

And with that he dove into your pussy, his tongue roaming your wet cavern. Neither did you understand what he spoke of nor had you sister told you about the activity happening right now. But all you could do was focus on the astonishingly pleasant shivers running through you as you had an out of the body, more accurately an out of the world experience. You had no sense of the time that passed and how long you laid there clutching the silk sheets letting out mewls. But out of nowhere, something in you snapped and all your energy left you.

As your blurry vision cleared and your eyes found his face, he licked his still glistening lips, his beard moist and wet but erotically so. He dove right into kiss again and you tasted your own sweet nectar for the first time ever. His hand roamed your body, grabbing your curves and caressing your soft flesh.

One of his hands made its way down furthermore and spread your fluids along your folds, and then lined up himself along your hole. With a sudden push, you felt yourself being full like never before, and a sudden pain hit you as your face visibly flinched. Steve swallowed your grunts of pain with his kisses and started rubbing your bud above your linked bodies.

The shudder that ran through you once again made you incapable of thinking, the ache slowly subsiding behind the pleasure you felt. When your moans filled the air, Steve kissed your collarbones and sucked leaving bruises there, and started thrusting again. As his movements became faster and consistent, and his callused hands rubbed you and pinched your intimate flesh, you ascended to another world. Each action of his introduced you to a new star in the wide galaxy. The same unknown descended upon you again as something snapped in your abdomen and you experienced pure bliss.

“Going to make you the mother of my children, you will carry my seed and bring the Kingdom several heirs. This time I’ll succeed, you will be mine, my Queen in every sense.” His words made you clench around him and that was all it took for him to achieve ecstasy as well.

Your head lolled and your eyes met his sweating frame lying across the silk sheets as a sinister grin adorned his face again, “I need to fuck a successor into you tonight, you ready?”

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