#anthony bridgerton x Oc

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc, anthony bridgerton x ofc (platonic)

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she love her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

prologue

she stirred awake with a grumble, as she does most days—which is immediately replaced with a grin after ten minutes of simply opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling. another day, another number of various things she can do. and so, she wasted no time to freshen herself up.

as she stepped out on the streets of grosvenor square, her immediate touch brought radiance to the place. no, she was not a smiling fool nor was she greeting everyone. it was not that type of radiance. she hated that. yet, one can argue the opposite when she finally arrived at the bridgerton's house.

"'tis a fine day, is it not?"

"raine!"

the girl jumped up, her book forgotten as she put it on the couch and hugged the girl who's standing with open arms under the arch to their drawing room.

"oh, how i have missed you, eloise!"

"why do you both act like you were not together the entirety of yesterday?" colin voiced out as he read the newspaper, not bothering with any greetings. they have all long passed that. eloise sent a glare to her brother just as their mother arrived.

"loraine, darling!" she took the young lady's cheeks in delight, "how are you and your father?"

she smiled warmly at that. violet took it to herself to act as her mother-figure, given that their families were closely tied, "never been better, lady bridgerton."

the older woman gave her a look at the use of her title before leading her to a couch near the fireplace.

"are you well-prepared for tomorrow's start of the season?"

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

"are you well-prepared for tomorrow's start of the season?

violet smiled as she asked her second-eldest daughter. eloise is well-prepared, she knew, in terms of physical and material aspects. internally, however, her daughter was having a fit, both of nervousness and fury.

"mama, i am very much prepared, but you should know that i am calling for all miracles right now so that i cannot attend tomorrow."

raine laughed, saying it's a good thing she's much prepared at the very least. her friend turned to her with a look of betrayal.

"you will be this next year, and i thought we're gonna be spinsters together!"

"no, that was penelope." she said as she stood up and dusted her dress, "when my season comes, i would very much like to marry, especially to that man dabbling on his pad."

she gestured with a head tilt to the man sitting near colin. they all need not turn to know who she was referring to as eloise rolled her eyes. raine chuckled at her reaction before another voice graced the room. well, not exactly grace.

"ugh, it's too early to deal with you."

violet turned to her eldest and immediately closed her eyes with a sigh before giving him a pointed look.

"anthony, it's already nine, and don't be rude."

the young lady turned to the source of the voice and grinned in an instant, clasping both her hands together in chest level sweetly, "i have missed you so much, anthony!"

"i don't share the sentiment." he replied with nonchalance as he took a biscuit and sat by his younger brothers.

"anthony will be marrying this season."

she paused for a moment, as if processing, before she broke out with laughter as she heard the words marry and anthony in the same sentence, but noticing the silence around her, she turned back to violet, "no... seriously?"

"why does it come as a surprise to everyone?" the man in question grumbled. raine finds herself nearing the eldest.

"but why the sudden change?"

anthony sighed as he swallowed the biscuit on his hand, "it probably has not come to your little mind that this family needs a viscountess. a viscountess is a lady that—"

"shush," he's lucky that's the only thing he got from her, given that she is to become a viscountess herself next year and he was mansplaining. she looked up in glee and clasped her hands again with true joy this time, "oh, i'm going to have so much fun this season!"

violet thinks that anthony and raine is a great pair and she would have been pushing for it already, had raine not been in love with benedict.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

"as much as i love you, lady bridgerton, i do not want to talk about anything with relation to my societal season and marriages."

kate and anthony entered the room, just in time for the debutante's antics. the matriarch sighed at the apparent lack of interest from the girl, while the latter broke into the widest grin.

"i would, however, welcome the conversation if i'm paired with benedict."

she turned to her other side where lies the subject, both of the topic and her affections, "speaking of which, will you marry me now, ben?"

the second-eldest son did not open his eyes from the sleepless nap he was having as a boyish smile made its way to his lips, "not a chance."

"ah, what a shame." she smiled at the sight of him before turning back to his mother with a clap, "well, there's always tomorrow."

[balteredsworld]

masterlist! ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

below you'll find all work pertaining to ships, gifs, and fics produced by me!

house m.d. 🥼🩺

if you can fake sincerity, you can pretty much fake anything.

my mistake, gregory house — you should've known better, but don't. you were pathetically in love with house.

cha cha chase, gregory house — house finds out you're a dancer.

turning point, gregory house — you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.

wilson's hypothesis, gregory house — according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.

negotiations, gregory house — house would rather fight you, but negotiates a date to the gala as a truce.

upcoming:

in new york, gregory house — mid make out session, wilson walks in and finds out has a you for a girlfriend.

pulse of verse, gregory house (series) — when a poet becomes a patient, house lets the team in on the secret he once dated you: the poet laureate whose poems he inspired. years later, you take up a teaching job at the university.

the queen's gambit ♟️💄

take it. it's your game.

an illicit affair, bethov — ch 1, ch 2, ch 3

losing is not option, bethov gif set

bridgerton 🦢🐝

after passion cools and fate intervenes, who else is a woman left with but herself?

an affinity, anthony bridgerton x oc! — ch 1

[bumblesimagines]

The Clouds and The Stars

Request: Yes or No

Sequel one shot to The Sun and Moon!

Pronouns: He/Him/His

~~~

Married life... such a curious thing. Many grew up with an expectation as to how it would be, mostly based on their own parents' relationship. There were the happy parents who formed a love match and loved each other with their whole hearts. There were the friendly parents who were more friends than partners but still cared for one another. Then, there were the saddening parents who either due to a forced marriage or perhaps because of time grew to despise each other, only tolerating each other for the sake of their children whom they unknowingly harm with their arguments and jabs. 

(Y/N) grew up with friendly parents. Lucy and Henry had ended their respective social seasons by marrying under the guise of being madly in love in order to chase after what they truly wanted, even if their desires had to be kept behind closed doors and only exposed to trusted individuals. Secrecy had always been a part of his life, even when it involved marriage, and he supposed now, as he lied in bed and watched the sun peek through the curtains, he'd truly followed in his parents' footsteps. At least, however, he'd found someone. Found more than one, in fact. 

"Love," (Y/N) couldn't help but smile as Anthony sighed into his ear, his muscular arm tightening around him and pulling him closer to his chest. Anthony buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, lips pressing against his skin before he hooked his chin over (Y/N)'s shoulder. He gently nudged him, a soft grunt leaving him when (Y/N) remained still. "Love."

"What is it?" (Y/N) chuckled and finally shifted, moving onto his back and peering up at Anthony when he propped himself up onto his elbow. Anthony smiled at him, cheeky and pleased, one hand moving to cup his face and rub his thumb soothingly over his cheek, a warm twinkle in his dark eyes. (Y/N) felt his skin flush under such an adoring gaze. 

"I simply wished to see my husband's beautiful face, is all." Anthony cooed, and (Y/N) smile widened tenfold, a bashful and breathy laugh escaping him. They weren't married to each other, not legally or in the eyes of the church at least, but in their hearts and to their families they were. Many in the ton suspected but with Queen Charlotte's silence and Lady Whistledown calling their dance together a 'much-needed change for such dreary balls', anyone with suspicions or beliefs remained silent. Of course, they still had to remain a secret, lest someone grew annoyed enough to reach out to the church. 

"Such a charmer, Anthony." (Y/N) spoke teasingly, sighing softly against Anthony's mouth when he swooped down to kiss him. Anthony pressed harder against his lips and fully rolled over, laying ontop of the painter and only pulling away to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Always so hungry, so needy and clingy. "Anthony, we have things to do-"

"They can wait," Anthony murmured against his skin, one hand slipping under his shirt while the other took his hand and locked their fingers together. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and released a breathy laugh, breath nearly hitching when Anthony needily rolled his hips. "We have time."

"It's an important day, Anthony. Francesca will need her brother today, you know." (Y/N) reminded him, dipping his fingers beneath Anthony's chin and gripping it lightly so he could tilt his head up. Anthony sighed dramatically, putting his full weight down on him and bringing their intertwined hands toward his face, a gentle kiss pressing against the back of (Y/N)'s hand. (Y/N) smiled.

"Suppose we should be quick, then." Anthony grinned mischievously, his free hand pushing up (Y/N)'s shirt and head dipping to pepper kisses along his stomach. 

"Anthony!" (Y/N) tried not to laugh too loudly, mindful of those still slumbering in the nearby rooms. He could hear the maids and servants bustling around, likely readying the house and preparing breakfast. Such a big day for the Bridgerton family again, and yet, there lied the Viscount, acting like a hormonal boy all over again. (Y/N) swatted at his shoulder and pushed himself up but it only prompted Anthony's head to dip even lower. "Anthony Bridgerton!"

Releasing a muffled laugh, Anthony finally relented and sat back, his hand still keeping an iron grip on (Y/N)'s no matter how hard the painter trying to pull back. (Y/N) groaned again in fake annoyance that only made Anthony giggle like a child and reach out to pull him onto his lap. He leaned in, pressing their lips together again. (Y/N) melted against him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezing Anthony's hand and feeling his fingers tighten even more. 

"If only-" (Y/N) leaned back, briefly interrupted when Anthony pecked his lips again. "-you put this much effort into having an heir with Steph." 

"Mm, I've been busy and she seems more than content with her... lady friends," Anthony said, nuzzling his face into (Y/N)'s chest. "If you'd been a lady, I'm certain you'd be expecting by now." 

"Yes, I'm aware. You've made that abundantly clear, Lord Bridgerton. I don't understand how you can have this much stamina." (Y/N) shook his head with a soft laugh, sweetly kissing the top of his head and exhaling softly. "But, I am not a lady nor your wife, Anthony. You need an heir. I'm sure it won't take too many attempts."

"And what of you and Kate? I'm sure you nor she will have this difficulty if you try for children of your own. We have each other's blessings, you know. If you'd like to have a child-"

"We've been breaching the topic, actually." (Y/N) revealed, finally untangling his hand from Anthony's and rising up from the bed, searching for the clothes he kept in Anthony's home for days he spent the night. Because of their predicament regarding Anthony's position as Viscount and their inability to wed publicly or have children, both men agreed to take on brides. Stephanie provided the perfect candidate for Viscountess and (Y/N) had always held affection for Kate. "She's more than happy to have children. She thinks two is a good number, in fact, so they have someone to keep them company."

"How many do you think Steph will want?" Anthony sighed, standing up as well to get dressed.

"Well, if you have a boy first... I think you'll both be content with just one." (Y/N) chuckled, slipping his coat on and adjusting the ends of it while Anthony began taking clothes out of the closet. The thought of parenthood, of fatherhood, hung over the two of them, both exciting and nerve-wracking. The four of them would care for the children together, that'd already been agreed upon, but still... bringing life into the world? It made (Y/N) queasy yet... pleased. 

"If you and I could have children," Anthony whistled sharply, a grin spreading across his face and fingers swiftly buttoning up his shirt. "We'd have a bigger brood than Mother." 

"I don't doubt it." (Y/N) retrieved Anthony's coat from its spot draped over the armrest and approached him, helping him slip his arms through and adjusting it for him. He smiled, finishing the last button of his shirt and fixing the collar before tugging Anthony closer to kiss him. "You're insatiable, Anthony."

"Only for you." Anthony cooed, gearing up to lean in again but the sound of the door opening made him pause.

Stephanie dramatically gasped at the sight of them, lifting a hand to her head and fanning herself rapidly. "Oh, Kate, what ever will we do? How could they do this to us?" She gasped again, a teasing smile stretching across her face as Kate giggled and gently nudged her and walked further into the room. (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Stephanie but smiled widely at Kate, pulling away from Anthony to extend his arms out toward her. 

"My darling wife." He greeted warmly, coiling his arms around her waist and planting a kiss between her brows. Kate hummed softly, leaning her head down to rest it on his shoulder. Stephanie stopped at Anthony's side, taking a quick look over his clothes before nodding approvingly and curling her arm around his. 

"Shall we get to it? Breakfast is ready and Violet has been fretting over Francesca nonstop. She's worried about the poor girl." Stephanie told them and Anthony sighed heavily, leaning over to kiss (Y/N)'s temple and nod to Kate. The Viscount and Viscountess fell into conversation and exited the room, leaving Kate and (Y/N) alone. 

"So, my darling husband," Kate began with a small laugh, lifting her head and smoothing out his shirt with her palms, her keen eyes searching for anything out of place before rising to look him in the eye. She smiled, pecking his cheek. "We have a long day ahead of us, as you know. Ready for this social season?"

"As long as I have you and Anthony and Steph, I'll always be ready."

[dragonsneversharetheirtreasure]

“Oh I know that look on your face. And the answer is no”

“I haven’t asked any questions. Who are they?”

Elizabeth looks back at the small group of friends, she counts five of them. The two men she bumped into and their three companions. When her eyes meet Anthony’s and then Simon’s her face ducks and she flushes the prettiest pink colour

“Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings... Promise me you’ll stay away from them?”

“Edward, I merely bumped into them on the street. I’m not going to turn into a blushing wide eyed debutante over them”

She thinks she already has but Elizabeth won’t tell her brothers that.

-coming soon-

Tagging: @sherwoodknights @queenzee27 @munstysmind and anyone else who wants to be tagged

[salvawhores-world]

Tolerate it - Anthony Bridgerton x Oc

Anthony bridgerton x Emma Norwood

Warnings - Angst, Childhood friends to lovers, Anthony being a bitch.

A/N - This is my first lore from the series Taylor x bridgerton. I was begging for some Anthony angst here we are. Mothers song from her most underrated and favourite album is here.

Do not Steal my work.

Anthony Bridgerton and Emma Norwood, now Emma Bridgerton, had been married for years, their love blossoming since childhood.

Their friendship, nurtured by Viscount Bridgerton and Earl Norwood, their fathers laid the foundation for a deep and enduring connection. Even before understanding the complexities of love, they were inseparable.

While their marriage was far from perfect, Emma devoted herself to being a dedicated viscountess, committed to her family and to Anthony.

Emma expected reciprocation from Anthony. She longed for his complete presence in their marriage and for him to cherish their bond as deeply as she did. Yet, despite her fervent efforts, she found herself wanting. The last two pieces of the puzzle were missing—the heartfelt acknowledgment of her contributions and the unreserved affection that she craved.

“I sit and watch you reading

With your head low

I wake and watch you

breathing with yourEyes closed

I sit and watch you

And notice everything

you do or don't do”

“Eloise has suddenly developed a keen interest in witnessing the race. I thought I might accompany her there. Besides She's also mentioned running out of books to read. I'll check if there's an exhibition where I can get her some," Emma uttered, delicately pouring a cup of steaming tea for herself.

She sat across from Anthony, who remained immersed in his newspapers, brooding in silence, responding merely with a faint hum. It felt akin to conversing with an unresponsive wall.

As the days drifted by, with each morning finding Anthony deep in slumber, his countenance peaceful, Emma would gaze at him, his breath flowing steadily.

In the presence of her husband, she would awaken, yet a chill clung to the bed—a frigidity that mirrored his heart, their union. A silent witness, she would sit, observing the unraveling of everything they held dear, crumbling into disarray.

“You're so much older and wiser and I

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid

Use my best colors for your portrait

Lay the table with the fancy shit

And watch you tolerate it”

"Sister, focus your attention here," Gregory exclaimed, his notebook spread out before him, jolting Emma from her reverie.

Her gaze, fixated on the door where her husband engaged in conversation with Daphne, was interrupted. She had known Anthony since their earliest days, certain that even as a two-year-old, he had attempted to cradle her tender newborn self in his tiny arms. Observing him now, her heart swelled.

He appeared older, wiser, and handsomer than she had ever known him to be throughout the passing years.

"My apologies, Greg. Now, where were we?" she apologized, returning to her task of aiding him with his studies.

Emma sensed Anthony's presence behind them. "How is your Latin progressing, Gregory?" Anthony inquired of his younger brother, who replied with respectful deference.

“Emma, may I have a word with you?" Anthony stated, nodding curtly. The couple excused themselves from the young boy's side.

"How are the preparations for the forthcoming ball progressing? It marks our first grand event since Colin's engagement," Anthony questioned.

Emma reassured him, "Worry not, Anthony. I have personally overseen every aspect. Rest assured, everything shall be executed flawlessly, precisely as you prefer." Emma's countenance brightened.

As she relayed the ball's particulars, Anthony merely responded with nods. No matter what Emma did, it never seemed to be enough. Would she ever experience the same love from him, bestowed upon her as it once had been?

“I greet you with a battle hero’s welcome

I take your indiscretions all in good fun

I sit and listеn, I polish plates until they gleam and glistеn”

“Please, please, PLEASE, Em, what must I do to persuade you? Aren't you my best friend?" Benedict exclaimed dramatically, pacing around Emma with a palette and a few brushes in hand.

“No, Ben, I cannot. I have an abundance of tasks to complete, and besides, I lack the patience to sit idle for hours," she replied, ticking off items on her to-do list as she moved about the drawing room.

“Be my muse, my inspiration!" Benedict shouted, now on one knee with his arms outstretched. Ever the dramatic soul.

“Ah, so my viscountess serves as your muse, I presume, brother?" Anthony interjected rudely, peering up from his newspaper.

Emma rolled her eyes and placed a plate of cakes and a cup of tea in front of her husband. "Your wife happens to be my closest friend, brother," Benedict retorted, his words dripping with resentment.

Anthony's voice dripped with underlying insinuation as he grumbled, "I care not for whatever attachments my wife may hold with you, Benedict, so long as she remains mine."

His words carried an unnerving implication, fueling Benedict's frustration and leaving Emma heartbroken, struggling to hold back her tears.

Benedict was livid. How could Anthony speak of Emma in such a manner, reducing her significance? Being only a month older than Emma and of the same age, Benedict and Emma had been inseparable since childhood. How could Anthony entertain such unsettling thoughts?

The first thing Benedict sketched was Emma adorned in a pristine white wedding gown, with Anthony as the groom and himself as the best man—a depiction of a joyous, harmonious family. It pained Benedict to witness his cherished friend enduring such anguish because of his own brother's actions.

“While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

Sitting before the crackling fire, Emma completed the final strokes of her latest letter, sealed with utmost care. It had been a week since Anthony's departure to France, lending his aid to Colin with an investment.

Throughout this time, she had heard little from him about his whereabouts. His sparse correspondence consisted of a mere few lines, informing her of his well-being and the status of his return. As the flames danced, memories flooded her mind.

"EMMA!" Young Anthony's voice reverberated through the verdant hills of Kent as he dismounted his horse and hastened toward his beloved.

Emma immediately abandoned her embroidery, leaving behind a beautiful napkin and her friend Daphne, running into the embrace of her dear boy. "At last, you have arrived," she murmured, her words muffled by the tightness of their hug.

"Being away from you feels like a cruel punishment. I detest Oxford," he grumbled, their gazes locked as they pulled away from each other.

Emma's smile illuminated her countenance. "You cannot fathom how weary I have grown of reading words. Hearing your voice is truly enchanting," she confessed, his forehead meeting hers as he leaned forward to gently kiss her brow.

"I am sorry for leaving you behind. If I had the power, I would abandon my studies or…or find a way to smuggle you in with me," he gasped, his breath still uneven from his exertions.

Emma laughed, a melodic sound that echoed through the air. "It is merely a matter of one more year, Anthony. Soon, you shall be here, And find me waiting for you, and we will be together," she reassured him.

"Together forever," he whispered, their foreheads touching in a tender embrace. "Together forever," she nodded, the young couple venturing forth into the sunset, their hearts entwined.

Overwhelmed by the memory, Emma found herself breaking down, tears streaming down her face as she gazed at the sealed letter and clutched the same old delicate napkin with the exquisitely embroidered "A." It was the sole remnant of so many cherished years.

“You assume I’m fine, but what

would you do if I

Break free and leave us in ruins

Took this dagger in me and removed it

Gain the weight of you, then lose it

Believe me, I could do it”

"I am fearful” Emma whispered softly as the couple prepared themselves. Her mind was awash with countless thoughts, and she felt like she was drowning.

Emma feared that if this torment continued any longer, she would shatter her wretched excuse for a marriage and flee. The burden had become unbearable.

The person she loved more than anything didn't even acknowledge her existence, breaking her spirit day after day.

"Fear not, my love, for it shall be a splendid occasion," Anthony assured her, adjusting his cufflinks before the mirror glass.

The fact that he didn't even inquire about his wife's distress infuriated Emma. In that moment, she entertained the idea of packing her belongings and escaping under the cloak of night, returning to her parents' residence in Kent.

Her father would undoubtedly welcome her with open arms, allowing her to indulge in her passion for reading and sketching.

Would Anthony come to fetch her? Would he realize his grave mistake and rediscover his love for her, prompting a fresh start? If she dared to voice her grievances, her father would surely confront Anthony and defend her honor, for that was precisely what Edmund would have done.

"I shall meet you outside when you are prepared," Emma stormed out of the bedroom, leaving her bewildered husband gazing at his own reflection in utter confusion.

“If it’s all in my head, tell me now

Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow

I know my love should be celebrated

But you tolerate it

I sit and watch you”

Emma pleaded for him to take action, to salvage their marriage, their love, and her very being.

Anthony remained oblivious, trapped in the mechanical motions of life. Emma yearned for it to be a mere figment of her imagination, longing for Anthony to stand beside her, embracing her, easing her worries, and drying her tears.

She wished to scale walls, shatter barriers, and bridge the divide between them, perhaps desiring him to reach out and yearn for the depths of her love. Yet, all Emma could do was watch him tolerate it.

_______________________________________________

Do not steal my work.

[underoosparkerr]

WIP #1: Untitled Bridgerton

Info: this is a bridgerton fic i wrote like when the second season had just started. it was supposed to be an anthony bridgerton x oc fic (can be written as an x reader), but as you can see I got halfway through the first chapter. reading it back, there are some details and whatnot that i’d change now as well as some details that are canon accurate. if this is something you like, let me know and i’ll but it in the running for being rewritten.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kent, 1800

Adelaide quite enjoyed summers in the countryside. Things were simpler, easier. She could be free and do as she pleased without the judgmental eye of the ton. At 13, she was expected to start behaving less like a child and more like a young lady. Away from London, she could truly be herself. Spending days sprawled in the luscious meadows around her family’s estate and climbing the magnificent oak trees that sprouted on the property (without her mama’s knowledge of course). In Kent, she could finally be a child.

On this particular day, she sat admiring the garden. The countless varieties of flowers and plants brought her a comfort she did not receive inside the large home. Her peaceful moment of silence was broken by her mama calling her from the porch.

“Adelaide, dear. There are people I would like for you to meet in the drawing room. Please come inside.” Her mother’s soft voice called out.

“Yes, mama. I will make my way in soon.” she replied, turning her head to face her mother.

“Not soon, dear. Now. As a lady, you know it is quite rude to leave your guests waiting.” Her mother said, with a bit more sternness than before.

Adelaide stood up, a bit exasperated, and smoothed her dress. She made her way towards her mother with a bit of a pout.

Her mother sent her a soft smile, “A lady never pouts, besides I’m sure you’ll feel better once you meet our guests.” She said placing her hands gently on her cheeks. “Now chin up my dear.” And with that Adelaide followed her mother inside.

The drawing room was a magnificent place, as was the estate. Soft green covered the wall, accompanied by gold moulding. A crystal chandelier hung from the white trimmed ceiling and beautiful mahogany flooring lined the room.

Sitting in the lush chairs, sat a woman her mother’s age and two children. The girl looked about her age, give or take a few years, and the boy was several years older. Maybe seventeen. It was clear that they also hailed from high society by the way the composed themselves.

The woman stood to greet your mother, and offered you a warm smile. “Hello, dear. You must be Adelaide. A spitting image of your mama when we were young.”

Her mother smiled brightly, “Yes, I do say she could be my twin.” she said with a chuckle.

The woman laughed before turning back to you. “I’m Viscountess Bridgerton, dear. Your mother and I were great friends in our youth.”

“It’s is a pleasure to meet you Lady Bridgerton.” Adelaide responded, giving a quick curtsy.

“And polite as well!” Lady Bridgerton exclaimed. “What a respectable young lady.”

Adelaide blushed. “Thank you Lady Bridgerton”

Lady Bridgerton turned her attention back to the two children on the settee. The two stood up in respect. “This is my eldest son, Anthony and my daughter Daphne.” the Viscountess introduced “My other children are off galavanting with their father but I am certain you shall meet them soon enough.”

The girl, Daphne gave you a bright smile and gave a polite wave. The boy on the other hand, remained quite stiff but gave a taut nod to the Countess and Adelaide.

“We have quite the bit of catching up to do, Violet. I am sure Adelaide would not mind giving your two children a tour around the estate, whilst we take the time to do so.”

[asa-writes]

Aphrodite of Old Hall - 07

"The Ton dissipates"

Anthony Bridgerton x F!OC / Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC 18+ MINORS DNI Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: alcohol and smut if you squint

It hadn't stopped raining for over two days now and to add to insult, there was a beastly wind blowing through the grimy London streets. Elisabeth sat in front of the fireplace and read a book. It wasn't anything that interested her - Old Hall's libraries seemed only to contain religious and botanical books, much to her chagrin - so she looked up at every little sound, hoping someone would come in and talk to her. As always, her mind was all over the place. The sounds Anthony had made yesterday had turned everything inside of her into a hot, trembling jelly. Sweat dripping down his muscular chest and his strong arms holding her, roughly caressing her... She felt like a lovesick puppy. He was supposed to be the lovesick puppy, not her!

Putting the book down, she wandered over to her secretaire, out of which she pulled some of George's letters. At least he always knew right from wrong, maybe his words would bring her to her senses... Lifting the paper up to her lips, she tried smelling the perfume he had spritzed on it, but alas, it had faded away long ago. Like him, she thought and shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. He would've laughed at her sentimentality. Hearing gentle knocks on the door, she turned around to see a footman holding a silver tablet with a single red rose and a letter. "Milady, hand-delivered by Lord Anthony Bridgerton. He is waiting in the entrance hall." Damn. God damn that man, always coming to her when she thought of him.

She walked over to the footman and took the gifts. "Thank you. You may escort him up here." He went as quickly as he came, leaving her alone again, the wind howling around her sitting room, which Stephane had gracefully given her. Unclipping her pince-nez and straightening the front of her dress, she gave herself a small, reassuring smile and sat down on her settee, pulling her skirts in a way that looked more glamorous. The door opened and a wet, tousled Anthony walked in. "Good morning, Elisabeth, I hope I'm not disturbing you." Grinning, he walked up to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Elisabeth pushed him towards the chair next to the fire, shaking herself playfully like a wet dog. "Good morning to you too, you wet mop. Did you seriously just walk here in this weather? I'm surprised that you haven't been blown away."

Rolling his eyes, he grinned. "I have, just yesterday evening..." She shook her head, blushing. After a few silent seconds he pointed at her decanter of Schnapps. "That is not water, is it? I would strongly discourage you from drinking it. I wouldn't want you to get sick." Elisabeth grinned. "You believe me to be so foolish? Come, try a bit." Pouring him a short glass, she gracefully presented it to him. "Prost!", She said, winked at him and finished her own. Clearing his throat, he raised his eyebrows. "That was... Stronger than I expected." Giggling, she poured herself another one. "You'll get used to it. At least I hope you will - my cook prepares a mean schnapps pudding, which almost dissolves, for it is so drenched."

Anthony just shook his head and took off his jacket, trying to get it to dry in front of the fire. "Have you read my letter yet?", He asked rather impatiently. Sighing, Elisabeth shook her head. "Why-ever should I? You are here with me, you could just tell me!" Rolling his eyes, he gallantly offered to open it for her. "Gestures, not words, that's what you said, didn't you?" She nodded. "Well, then turn away please." He looked at her quizzically. "I wrote it for you, no need to hide anything from me." Bashfully looking down, she retrieved her pince-nez from her bedazzled black reticule. "I... I can't see well..." Damning his wet clothes, he stood up and sat next to her, carefully putting the ridiculously hideous things on her face. "There. No need to be ashamed, my dear. As long as you can see me without them..."

She looked up at him, her eyes bigger than teacups. He gently broke the wax seal and opened it for her, trying his hardest not to look at her. By god, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and known, but there was no way she would keep those if they were to be married. Surely, he could find someone to make a more agreeable pair for her. Then again, it didn't really matter that much to him. She knew, hopefully, what was best for her. "There you go, dearest."

"Unto my dearest Lady Elisabeth, Seeing as the majority of the Ton had scrambled away to their country estates, (there shall be no end in sight with this weather) I have decided to take my family and go to mine as well. May I take the liberty of inviting you to come with us? I had a most interesting talk with Benedict, who has told me that the die had been cast and that he shall not be courting you anymore. As soon as the weather will end, we will certainly return again, for Eloise has yet to find herself a suitor. Yours ever lovingly, longingly and adoringly, Lord Anthony Bridgerton P.S. Oh, might I add that your bedroom has a secret passage to mine that nobody knows of?"

It was most fascinating to watch her read; her eyes darted from one side to the other - she read faster than anyone else he had known. She gasped, blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. Quickly taking off her pince-nez before looking up at him, she beamed, her cheeks reddening gently. "I must thank you... You... you love me! When are we leaving? Are you sure that your family is alright with me coming with you? However might I repay you?" Anthony chuckled and kissed her. Her lips still tasted of (what he presumed to be cherry) schnapps. She looked so fascinatingly beautiful when she tripped over her own words, looking up at him like her life depended on it. Like yesterday...

"One after the other, Ellie. No need to thank me, my love. Yes, I love you... And have to damn myself for not telling you yesterday. We could leave now, if you would want us to, I am completely at your will. I am the family's head so no, they wouldn't mind at all. Do you even need to ask me about the repayment?", He said, whispering seductively at the end. Glancing at the windows, she quickly straddled him and took his face into her soft, gloveless hands. It took a lot of control to not just pick her up and lift her skirts... She did know how to drive him wild. "Anthony...", She whispered, caressing his cheek, "I'd be delighted. I'll tell my servants to prepare a suitcase. Until it is ready, I shall like to come with you to your house, so we could all leave together..."

He slid his hand along her thigh, looking at her face faltering as a look of pleasure had rolled over her. "Really? Looks like you enjoy this a lot more..." Stopping just short of her mons pubis, she took a sharp breath, quickly standing up and flattening her dress. With a sly grin, she shrugged. "We do have a long carriage ride in front of us and, not to mention, the connected bedrooms. Now, as I've said, would you like to escort me to your home?" In his mind, he would've very much liked to just do her on the floor, but having her teasing him was a thousand times better. Standing up and putting on his rather uncomfortably damp coat, he quickly walked up to her and smacked her beautifully plump buttocks. "Then that is what I'll do, dearest. Just you wait..."

[thescandalousladyk]

Tulips and Torment

Eleanor Montague has many reasons to be grateful to Anthony Bridgerton.

1. He took her in for the season with only little objection.

2. He only wins every third argument, and that is a generous estimate.

3. He is rarely at home.

But grateful as she ought to be, Eleanor cannot forget the past and neither, it seems, can Anthony. Every moment spent in each other's presence is torture.

A perfect foundation for marriage, Anthony is convinced, and Eleanor, left destitute by her father's death, is hard-pressed to find a wealthy husband. Between Lord Bridgerton and Lord Rutledge, she knows whom to choose.

And then, between tulips and torment, something else blooms.

[fanaticfangirl001]

Tolerable, Dutiful and Half A Brain

Ch 2: The Interview of Miss Ottoline Greggett

Author's note: Fun fact: Ottoline means "Prospers in battle" in French. I picked it because I saw it in a Bridgerton themed baby name inspo video on tiktok.

Chapter 2 

Dearest Gentle Reader, 

There is of course another unknown identity at present.Though this one you  will be able to unearth.I speak of the season’s diamond wherever she may be. 

Your Move, Your Majesty. 

Eloise’s torment begins right after her attempted presentation. She didn't even get a chance to speak to Ottoline. The two typically chatted about their favorite authors during dull moments at balls. She practices dancing with her youngest brother as Benedict pokes fun from the settee.

Her dance lessons are interrupted by Anthony announcing he needs his father’s betrothal ring. 

“Did someone catch your eye at the presentation brother?” Benedict asks. 

“I thought all of the young ladies looked beautiful.” Franchesca says. 

“Not particularly and all the young ladies looked the same. Like young ladies. I’d simply like to be prepared for when the opportunity presents itself.” Anthony answers. 

“The opportunity?” Violet asks. 

“I’ve compiled an index of the season’s eligible misses and arranged interviews.” Anthony nods confidently in his interview system 

“Interviews, Dearest, I shall be more than happy to give you my ring when you find someone with whom you are very much in love. Besides, it is safe keeping at Aubrey Hall.” Violet answers as she walks over to Benedict and says to him  “See that he is quite well.” 

“Me?” Benedict asks. 

“I’m not in need of coddling. I assure you all everything is in order.” With a check of his watch Anthony leaves the house to begin his interviews. 

Within the weeks, Anthony has crossed off many young ladies, for either being immature, naive, foolhardy or simply giving the wrong answer. He checked the list for the last of the ladies on his list, the forgettable and boring Miss Ottoline Greggett. He had heard very little about Miss Greggett, just that she is intelligent but fretfully boring to speak to. She is well acquainted with Eloise and Penelope. Boring could be good, thought Anthony, it would help him know that will never fall in love with her throughout the marriage. All he needs is a tolerable, dutiful, suitable enough hips for childbearing and a brain. That of which Ottoline had several of. Her older brothers are quite the bunch taking up a full table at the Gentlemen’s club. None of them scamps or rakes. Anthony takes a deep breath as he knocks on the door for his late interview of the day. A butler answers the door and takes Anthony into a drawing room with Ottoline and Arabella. 

“Ah Viscount Bridgerton nice to meet you. I’m Arabella and this is Ottoline. We have some tea and cakes prepared.” Arabella introduces. 

Ottoline closes the book and pushes it to the side. “Hello Viscount.” 

“Hello Ottoline, you have a lovely home.Rather a big home to fit you and your brothers in your childhoods.” Anthony sits down. 

“Thank you, yes it is. We have always been quite tight knit, my brothers and I.” Ottoline pours the tea.

“Would you like to have multiple sons?” Anthony takes his teacup. 

“I hadn’t put a number on my future but I’d rather have more daughters than sons.” Ottoline passes a tea cup to her sister-in-law.

“Why is that?” Anthony asks. 

“My father explained that every man’s daughters are diamonds and that daughters are an expression of wealth. Not monetary wealth but the wealth of life. Love and sorrow, everything that makes life worth living.Daughters are a celebration of life itself. I would love to bless a man with many diamonds.” 

“I have never heard of fatherhood quite explained like that. It’s a rather unique perspective.” Anthony says a bit bewildered by the unexpected answer. 

“May I ask you a question, since you have turned this visit into an interview.” Ottoline smiles disarmingly. 

“Of course.” Anthony says a bit taken back. 

“How many children were you in want of? What subjects are expected of them in their education? How would you like them disciplined? If one child or many had the new condition asthma  could we buy a second home near the seaside. The salty air does wonders for the lungs.” Ottoline asks in one breath. 

“At Least four. Literature, Languages, Mathematics, Sciences, Art. I’d like them to be well-behaved. Yes we could have a house on the seaside.” Anthony answers. 

“I’d like to see all my children have lessons in several subjects: rhetoric, horticulture,astronomy, and what of dogs? Do you like them? Could we get several for the children to play with? I grew up with plenty of dogs, mostly schnauzers due to my uncle's penchant for travel. He would bring us puppies from Germany after a Botanist conference. What if our sons have a penchant for travel?” 

“I do see the logic of rhetoric for young men but why ladies? And yes I do like dogs, and a penchant for travel is no problem, my brother Colin already has one.” 

“If a young lady is to stand a chance at arguing with her husband within the first few years she needs some lessons in crafting an argument. And good,the boys can accompany Colin on his travels to Greece and Venice.” Ottoline trails off sipping tea. 

“Young ladies should not argue with their husbands in the first place and I do not believe our sons should travel with their Uncle Colin, he is still young.” Anthony demands. 

“If you do not believe in arguing with a spouse than why are you indulging me in this fictitious debate about our children. 

“I’ve had enough of this conversation. Good day Miss Ottoline, Miss Arabella.” Anthony abruptly stands and storms out of the house. 

Arabella shakes her head at Ottoline. “Why did you have to do that?” 

“Do what?” Ottoline asks. “He’s the one who went straight into these invasive interview questions. Like he needs to be wed tomorrow. We are both trying to find a spouse. Why does he get to interrogate people.I only had my own questions.” 

“Fine, we will practice questions for the next suitors.” Arabella sighs. Getting Ottoline married would be harder than she thought. 

Anthony returns home frustrated. His family seemed to notice over dinner. 

“How did the interviews go, brother?” Benedict laughs. 

“Rather uneventful except for the last. I thought Eloise’s friend Ottoline Greggett would be the most welcoming and most forgettable but she was the opposite.” Anthony vents. 

“Oh and what did she say? I haven’t spoken to her in ages.” Eloise perks up. 

“She said that all daughters are diamonds to fathers, and that daughters are expressions of the wealth of life. Love and sorrows and everything that makes life worth living. Anthony says angrily stabbing chicken with his fork. 

“Oh that’s beautiful Anthony. She seems wonderful.” Violet muses. 

“There’s more of her radical beliefs.” Anthony starts up again “ She wants all the children educated in subjects beyond the general education. She wants lessons in horticulture, astronomy and rhetoric, so our daughters can stand a chance arguing with their husbands within the first few years of marriage.” 

“Quite smart.” Violet can’t help but laugh at the marriage argument lessons and her son’s growing anger by the answers he pursued with his interviews. His other siblings are just as amused at Anthony’s frustrations. 

“She wants dogs too, schnauzers, a seaside house on the off chance one of our broods has this new condition called asthma, and our sons to go on adventures with Uncle Colin to who knows where.” Anthony finishes. 

“I’ve heard the sea air is good for any lung conditions.” Violet pipes in. 

“I’m sure Colin would love to be a fun traveling uncle.” Benedict adds. 

“That is not the problem, Ottoline Greggett is .” 

“Why does she bother you so much, you just met her?” Eloise asks.

“Her reputation is that she is boring and too intelligent to be a wife. I was expecting a dull conversation, not a lively debate about fictitious children.”  

Anthony sulks off into the study after dinner like he has for weeks now after the various interviews. 

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc, anthony bridgerton x ofc (platonic)

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

v. five: lonely in your company

the young silva did not expect this at all. yes, lady whistledown wrote about quite a lengthy chat that the viscountess silva had with a certain son of the renowned pathologist, sir astley cooper, yesterday. but, for the rest of the gentlemen to flock her now? she was aghast.

while we have so far seen how she loves being in the bridgertons' companies and how she openly enjoy the things she finds fun, it is also as open she shows her distaste to the rest of the population—probably better that we haven't seen that part yet.

"i heard you like chocolates, lady silva."

"i believe we share the same interest in mechanical science."

"we have quite the collection of guns ourselves, my lady."

"a convention in astronomy is happening in the near future. if i may be so bold to have your presence when the time comes?"

honestly, she liked the last offer—had the man been fifteen years younger. it would have not mattered to her though, if only it was benedict.

the men continued to force their offers on her face. a man pulls another to the back to have his turn. a man pushed his bouquet forward. a man yelled his offer from the back. a man—

"excuse me, gentlemen. may i have a moment with the lady?"

a woman's voice stood out from the clamor, causing the men to turn and giving a space for her to take a hold of the younger one.

the ladies did not wait for the men's responses as they easily linked arms and walked away. although they could not do anything seeing as causing a scene in the queen's presence is not to everyone's benefit, they did groaned and cursed that a viscountess got away from their grasps.

"i cannot thank you enough for that, lady arnold."

loraine spoke gratefulness, her mood still marred from the encounter.

"you know there is no need for that. you act like we do not know each other." the widowed woman warmly smiled at her as she gave a squeeze on the silva's shoulder.

"i am simply grateful," she insisted, followed by a scoff, "i talk to another man and the rest of them think they could."

lady arnold chuckled at her stubborness, "i see, you still have not stopped using your father to fend off possible suitors?"

"i fend them off with anything i can. a gun, if i must."

the older woman said an immediate shush as if on reflex, something akin to a fear of being heard about using guns on suitors—although she herself would love to do so, "do you carry?"

"oh, no. the regular size is too heavy and bulky to conceal in a dress." raine said with clear annoyance that she could not carry one conveniently, "i am currently working on a smaller one."

do note that she already finished one.

at the mention of her creating a smaller version just simply because she would like to hide one made her look staggered at the young one, "and yet, you refuse to join the discussion inside."

lady silva moaned in displeasure, "i already went in. all he talks about is the principle of circular motion."

while interesting at first read, it gets boring mean you have understood it. the concept itself is significant, no doubt, in explaining various natural as well as mechanical sciences. however, she simply did not feel up to it today.

"that and i hate balloons."

lady arnold laughed at her honesty, bidding farewell to her as she continues to the dome. raine walks by herself, trying to find the bridgertons. while she did have other friends, she was not as keen to spend time with them as she did with the said family.

and so, she strolled until she found something interesting. eloise, cressida, and penelope; all surrounding the poor man.

"what do we have here?" she mouthed to eloise from the side of lord debling and penelope.

as the bridgerton girl shrugged and gestured nothing to her, the rest of the group noticed her arrival.

"ah, lady silva." the man greeted with a hidden familiarity.

"lord debling." raine tightly smiled at him in return.

miss cowper turned to the young girl, "loraine, you are an enjoyer of science just like lord debling, are you not?"

"oh, cressida," she began with a chuckle. she does not mean any offense to her though. while the said woman was indeed quite ill-natured, so was she. therefore, she is not one to judge the other, "you would be surprised by the amount of different sciences there are."

lord debling turned back to the cowper, "we do not share the same interest."

"we despise each other." raine nodded to that reassuringly, causing the man to look at her with seriousness.

"i do not despise you."

"your loss," the young silva shrugged with a hint of jest, "i despise you."

"such a strong word, my lady."

"i am petty like that." she giggled, lightly tapping the arm of the man in a friendly manner as she continued.

"do continue your conversation. i apologise for the intrusion."

raine stepped back with a smile and neared eloise, "where is your brother?"

"i did not see him. i thought he is with you?" she asked back, trying to look around herself too to catch a glimpse of her brother.

good thing she was looking around though because she had enough time to grab the other girl by the hand as the extraordinary balloon started to fly their way.

penelope, however, was stunned on their place. lord debling did not think twice to cover the girl for safety. while they did not agree with the science, she would give him points for that act.

raine turned to the men pulling the balloon, seeing colin upfront. such a personality he is embracing now, she thought. another bridgerton stole her attention though, because just meters away, benedict can be seen rubbing his palms as if in pain from pulling the ties.

she turned to eloise to bid farewell, thinking to go to him. however, as she turned back to where he was, he was now rushing to walk away.

her confusion was interrupted when cressida suddenly yelped in pain. catching on to her hidden agenda, raine rolled her eyes.

"ugh, i really hate balloons."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

after the incident, they all went home, likely to also prepare for the ball this evening. she went with the bridgertons to their home, not wanting to disturb her father for whatever work he's doing again.

the girl grumbled as she laid down on their couch, completely not listening to whatever conversation the family was having. everyone was doing something—gregory and hyacinth eating biscuits and quarreling, francesca playing the piano, colin reading and benedict sketching, and violet and eloise talking.

raine groaned once again before speaking on her own, "my father is so busy. it is almost like he is not here at all."

she continued to stare at the ceiling, only looking at the family after a prolonged silence of whatever they were doing. lady bridgerton was staring at her lovingly as eloise added, "and when he is away, you keep on saying you want him to go home already."

raine feigned ignorance to what she said, acting like she did not say that at all—which she did say, by the way, quite a lot too.

"ben," she called for the man across who seems to be ignoring the entire happenings in the drawing room.

"hmm," he replied with a hum, intent on his sketch.

"will you marry me so that someone will be with me when father leaves again?" she said as she sit up about to go to him.

"no," he replied, looking up from the pad and to her briefly before standing up himself, "i will be painting in my room."

he turned away after bidding farewell to everyone, the sound of his footsteps slowly fading. violet and eloise turned to raine after that, confusion clear on their faces as if asking what happened.

honestly, she is asking the same thing.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

her second ball—to be honest, balls are not as fun as the ton made it out to be. with the exception of what seems to be a men's club inside, there is nothing much in it.

"the surgeon from yesterday said he will be writing you a letter." she turned to see astley cooper, looking more dashing in a ball's fit, and still lacking greetings.

she smiled at what he said, "are they really going to study my suggestion?"

"of course, your points were quite strong. why do you seem to be doubting yourself now?"

she shrugged as she placed her glass down, "i was brazen yesterday. i am not feeling like it now."

letting out a sigh, she lifted her glass again and took quite a sip with a new resolution, "well, they better do because i have already boasted to my father that i made an expert pause and think about my ideas."

he chuckled at her changing moods in just five seconds, "oh, he shall prepare to be more proud then."

"lady silva, may i have this dance?" she turned to her right, only to see the brother of who she's waiting for.

"anthony, i told you. i am not going to dance with you first."

the viscount stood straight again, slowly retracting his hand, "you have not danced yet tonight?"

she let out a small groan at the reminder, "should i have?"

he chuckled, crossing his arms as if in deep thinking before chuckling again, "you are so obsessed with him. it is just a dance. he was already your first ever dance."

raine stopped the glass she was about to drink midway. she narrowed her eyes pointedly to the older man, the latter rolling his eyes, "okay, fine."

"viscountess silva, you are needed." a footman called for the lady, gaining the attention of the pair. his voice carried seriousness, yet that is not enough to reveal what it could be about. they all spoke monotonously during working hours.

she tapped anthony's arm before walking across the room, swiftly dodging the ton.

"lady silva."

a soldier strictly acknowledged the young lady. the man was sweating considerably as he pulled a letter from his pocket. he passed it to the girl in front of him without any word.

as raine took hold of the letter, small red stains are noticeable as well as the lack of seal. she opened to see the contents of it written in a hasty manner. her eyes flew from word to word, line to line. the lack of greetings, the lack of complimentary close.

she was not sure if this was done in jest—she would like it to be. however, upon observing the man in front of her now, his hand is visibly shaking. and so, she shut her eyes closed, crumbling part of the paper on her grip.

"name?"

"morgan," he answered with no mention of his rank. perhaps, this is his way of being sympathetic to the silva in front of him. perhaps, offering himself as a fellow person rather than a soldier would offer comfort.

"tell me where they are, morgan." she stared directly in his eyes, voice now void of the festivities behind her.

"i cannot tell."

"oh, you surely can." her volume starting to increase, sarcasm, anger, fear, and grief mixed.

"my lady, i am under strict command to not tell you their whereabouts." he did not break his eye contact, believing it as a form of respect to the girl.

she stepped forward, grasping her concealed small gun inside her dress out as she start to scream, "tell me or i will—"

"raine," a man grabbed her, pushing the gun down before anyone can wander their eyes on it. he swiftly took and pocketed it on his own. he turned to the young one, putting both palms on her cheek as if to call for her, "raine."

anthony crossed the hall as fast as he could after noticing her crumbling the paper, excusing himself from mr. cooper who conversed with him after she left. he was not the best man when it comes to emotion, but he knows anger like an old friend. and raine? she was rarely angry. she despises everything on a daily basis, but never with rage. and so, he knew something was wrong—very wrong.

he looked at her directly in the eyes, seemingly finding her behind it as he whispered, "there is a lot of people present. the ton is here."

"i do not give a hell about them. where is my father?!" he pushed the viscount away, freeing from his grasp but he reached again instantly, as if knowing how to deal with her already.

"darling, do not yell," he spoke in the same warm voice, "what happened?"

"papa has been shot," her voice broke upon saying it out aloud, just as her tears from her eyes, "in the shoulder and chest!"

raine nearly dropped down, if anthony did not pull her to him in time. although they were outside, the ball is still quite crowded. they could not let this go out. they could not let people see and know of this.

"i—" the viscount could not find the right words to say at the moment, he himself now feeling the panic akin to what he has experienced before.

sergeant morgan informed them of raphael's orders, him being the second-in-command of the currently incapacitated general, "colonel montague has ordered to have you stay in the ball. this is surrounded by our men, and the people responsible are less likely to attack a crowded event."

anthony nodded to acknowledge what the soldier said as raine is starting to lose herself, muttering on her own, "papa was shot."

while the general has certainly been shot before, this is possibly the most fatal. raphael knew that the girl would prefer the exact information, even in grievous situations. she hates when people feel the need to protect her from the truth.

and so, that is what the colonel wrote. he mentioned his state in all its actuality. general has been shot four times, once in the shoulder and thrice on the chest, sternum to left. he is bleeding heavily and is currently unconscious. we will be going on another quarters. i ask you stay at the ball. after, be with major thorpe at all times.

she pushed the viscount once again and turned back to the ball inside, "le—leave me be."

before anthony could take a hold of her, she already has entered inside. forcing to assist the girl would only raise suspicions now. she walked slowly, eyes darting from point to point as if looking for something. good thing it is a ball, and people will brush off her actions as a bit intoxicated—which could not be farther from the truth.

"where's...." she whispered to herself, not knowing that she is saying it out aloud, "where is... benedict?"

raine turned and turned, left and right, but she could not find even his shadow in the dance floor or within the hall. so, she continued to walk aimlessly, only to find who she's looking for at the bottom of the stairs, with a familiar lady conversing with him from a few steps higher. her mind was wandering. she did not understand a thing anymore.

"i need to go," she muttered to no one in particular, turning to a corner where a staircase leading to another wing can be seen.

she gripped the bannister, anthony in tow, seeing his wife in conversation with his mother. he gestured for kate to come to them, offering a smile to not raise worry before disappearing from view.

raine continues to find her way to the balcony, breaths already starting to be more noticeably heavy. fortunately, the place was vacated with no other person in sight. she dragged her feet and found comfort on the corner between the wall and a balustrade, sitting down with her knees on her chest.

"an—anthony," she began after a few gasps of air, the said man leaning closer as he crouched in front of her too.

"papa... papa was shot." the young girl reiterated in disbelief and grief. she left first for the ball as armand told his daughter he had some things to work for a bit with raphael. they were supposed to arrive late in the ball.

they were supposed to arrive on the ball.

he continues to comfort her, saying that her father's going to be well. he is a general, after all. the viscountess bridgerton reaches them with a smile, but it is immediately changed with a confuse and worried one when she sees what's happening.

anthony turned to her in a rushed manner, "kate, get my brother."

she knew better than to ask why. kate has always been a smart woman. she does not know, but she understands. and so, she nodded at him and turned on her heel in a hurry.

"you... will not find him. he—he is..." the girl whimpered. she cannot even see anything, her eyes blurried intensely as she fights to hold on to herself, "with lady..."

anthony caressed her hair before leaning his forehead to hers, speaking with the smallest and most serene voice he could, "shh, it's okay, raine. i am here. you can do—"

there were so many things happening all at once. she could not focus. she could not hold on to this for any longer.

"an..." she began, her words dying in the middle as she gasps and gasps, "tony...? i cannot... i cannot hear."

the fear started to settle in more to her. she cannot even hear her own voice. she hears nothing but the beat of her heart, irregularly fast.

she fumbled, trying to find his hands, and as soon as she did, raine squeezed it tightly.

"tony, i'm..."

she does not even know if she was able to say the following words. she has thought of it before, but more strongly now. she is thinking of it now, and she hopes that the thought counts.

"i need him."

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks

[balteredsworld]

anthony, 9th viscount bridgerton + lady victoria helen lear — an affinity, ch 1

the lady lear returned from her studies in austria, hailing the ton at once with an impressive hand for the harp, but an even more accomplished sharpening of her tongue that one poor viscount bridgerton was forced to contend with—though one totally warranted over his criticism of her playing. this author can say this was not the happy reunion the ton would have hoped between the estranged companions, all too used to unadulterated, unaccompanied triumph. the viscount bridgerton and lady lear were lauded as the ton's finest, precocious heirs, competing for notoriety and the ton's praise. so nurtured there, their rivalry was only natural.

lady whistledown's society paper, 1812

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

Bridgerton moodboard, anyone?

Literally no idea what I'm doing with this other than that the plot gremlins are clamoring for me to write something, so...yeah. There's that. 😅 This would be an Anthony Bridgerton/OC pairing, featuring Olivia Pembroke as the OC in question.

[thatasadbitch]

Emerald -1-

this is the first chapter of an idea I've had in my head for some time, it's a Bridgerton themed story starring Anthony and a character invented by me I hope you like it however short this chapter is but being the first I wanted just seeing if it worked as a whole 🤍🩵

I also state that I had published this story some time ago on a Tumblr profile that I lost, this is just a revised and improved version of the previous one but I would like to continue :)

"Alice?" I wake up from my thoughts looking into Richard's green eyes "yes?" He snorts and I smile guilty "You weren't listening to me were you?" I shake my head and he repeats what he just told me " you have to go to the dance tomorrow night and dad thinks I should drive you " I look at my brother's tired face " I don't really care who accompanies me as long as someone does.. ..eh uhm Anthony will come ?" I ask not looking into his eyes, green eyes that roll up to the sky " of course there will also be Lady Daphne's debut " I smile inside me " plus you and Daphne are the only ones who have gone well with the queen so I expect a lot from you two diamonds in one season it's something rather bizarre " puff " and you when you stop going to your mistress and you start looking for a wife, you don't want to be a libertine bachelor until your 30 dear brother " he frowns glares at me and I walk away from there to the park with a wicked smirk plastered on his face.

As I turn my face to see if Richard was yelling at our parents about my insolent behavior or following me I bump into someone and almost fall to the ground "oh sorry I'm sorry" in panic I notice two pitch eyes watching me "my fault" a tall guy with amber skin a light beard and short, curly dark hair looks at me with a half-hidden smirk "Miss he looks a lot like-" "Basset!" The handsome gentleman's hands immediately move away from me to embrace what from the voice is clearly my brother Richard "Richard my friend it's been a long time since I've seen you" the two shake hands with a smile printed on their lips, while I look confused scene to better say I look at the handsome boy in front of me who saved me from a ruinous fall, focusing on his clearly toned physique even under the many clothes "I was just saying to this Lady who looks like you without equal" the same brings attention on me, also catching myself observing him "I would say it's possible since she's my sister, Alice this is the Duke of Hastings, Simon Basset but one of my dearest friends" I bow slightly to then be immediately stopped by the man "Please, not all these formalities, lady Alice, grateful to have made her acquaintance" the duke continues on his way giving me a last and beautiful smile, leaving me alone again with Richard "is he married?" I ask while he continues to look in the Duke's direction "no and he has always said he doesn't want marriage and children...so my dear, aim for something else".

That same evening my family was invited to the Bridgerton house as often happens, our families are very close, my father, the earl, was a close friend of the Viscount Bridgerton and my mother and Violet have now become like sisters from a long time spent together, so it very often happens that there are lunches or dinners that involve both families, and now they are with Eloise and Benedict smoking a cigarette on their comfortable swings hidden from prying eyes " I made this sketch the other day, take a look at it " Benedict grabs it and looks at it rolling his eyes " well it's really wonderful if it were printed on canvas it would be even better " I look again at my sketch depicting a picnic by the lake and wrinkle my nose " I don't know it still doesn't convince me " I put it away and Benedict snorts "you're a talent...not to mention when you sing Alice if an angel I swear" Eloise speaks "a woman as talented as you in art, music and writing should only aspire to a marriage, not seems unfair to you " I take a long drag on my cigarette " but I'm not just aiming for marriage...all my hobbies and talents will be cultivated I die before that happens, I won't be just an oven churning out babies " Eloise seems to admire the my words " and rightly so " Anthony's voice gives me a fright that I almost fall off the swing " if you leave us alone I promise not to tell our mother Eloise " the girl gets up in a hurry and so does Benedict who pats his brother on the back before walking away.

"Are you really going to keep the secret?" I ask giggling he gives the same smile offering me a hand to make me get up " it depends how much lady bridgerton makes me angry these days " I smile looking at the sweetness in his brown eyes " you really wouldn't do it " I insinuate walking with him in the back of the garden letting no one sees us smoking, anthony and i have been smoking and walking together in secret for 2 years now no one has ever found out about us and this fortuitous combination must continue " how's it going with Daphne ? You told me you're really considering that slobbering Nigel Barbrock " he seems to be weighing his steps" and he told you to convince me to deny my promise " I nod silently " Anthony you know that's really not a good choice he's too many years older than her and for heaven's sake a title doesn't make a man " he looks ahead serious "I think it will be just fine" I put my feet down and he just takes a couple of steps before turning to me "Good God Anthony never again say nonsense of such magnitude...that man is a drooling bachelor lover of girls ... get out of your head to make him marry your sister "he crosses his arms to his chest" and who prevents me, you? He asks haughtily "of course I'll stop you, since your common sense has apparently run away" he almost smiles "and what do you do if I say no?" he is his teasing, when will he stop being sarcastic "because otherwise I will never agree to dance with you or even less to continue our outings in secret" he is dumbfounded realizing that there is someone smarter than him "you are as beautiful as you are clever and detestable at the same time, all the more to use my poor and innocent feelings against me..." I laugh at his words and throw away my cigarette looking at him defeated by his own game that has taught me so much in these years " you hit a point sore... I think I misled you my dear lady " I shrug " on the other hand you involuntarily told me that you would say yes for a dance and that our outings suit you" I giggle with a little red cheeks " I didn't say it or imply it, but in case I will definitely take it into consideration after 3 years of courtship it seems to me the minimum for so much perseverance and commitment " he smiles at me and may God thank that smile so beautiful " tomorrow I will debut and I hope so dear viscount who will ask me for the first dance...so I advise you to think carefully about my words "he approaches me placing his hands on my waist" if she had any doubts lady Alice I suspect she doesn't know me well yet, I would not admit I've never been wrong but losing your hand is definitely a worse event...remember I never lose" his lips gently touch my cheek making me blush like no other at his gestures and words whispered in my ear, the voice of but my brother Edward brings me back to reality too soon " Alice we have to go " I thank my brother's distance and the tree we are behind so that it makes it impossible for him to see me and Anthony who quickly runs away after a kiss on the back of my hand " but where are you over " I come out of the shade of the tree " here brother I will be right back " .

Sorry for any mistakes but English is not my first language

[salvawhores-world]

Sparks - Anthony bridgerton Part 1

Single dad! Anthony Bridgerton x young!fem oc (Florence Channingworth)

Warnings - single dad anthony, tooth rotting fluff, crazy bridgerton siblings , age gap. Uncle Ben has my whole heart

A/n- reader is of Eloise’s age. I imagine her as Emma Watson from belle and little women.She is nineteen and Anthony 30. It was quite common in those days and the age gap holds a key to the plot hence is emphasised more often I started writing this imagining girl dad Anthony had me in fits. It seems I’ve more than 1 part hehehe. Do not steal my work.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, once renowned as the charming rake of London, experienced a profound transformation the day his precious daughter, Ava Bridgerton, came into the world four years ago.

She became the very center of his universe, reshaping his priorities and molding him into the doting father he had never anticipated becoming.

Love for his daughter consumed him entirely, radiating from him in every interaction. The viscount's rakish tendencies were forsaken, for he no longer had time nor desire for them.

The idea of marriage had never been on his radar, but with Ava as his eternal companion, he found contentment beyond measure.

As for securing an heir, he entrusted that responsibility to his brothers, Benedict, Colin, or even young Gregory, confident that the viscount legacy would be safeguarded.

The Bridgerton household was bathed in warm sunlight as Ava's little legs propelled her eagerly towards her father's study.

“Dada!" she exclaimed, storming into the room. Anthony glanced up from his towering stack of papers, his heart instantly alight at the sight of his precious daughter.

Amongst the strict protocol of their home, Ava alone had the privilege of entering without knocking.

With eyes filled with adoration, Anthony beckoned Ava closer, opening his arms to envelop her in an embrace. "Yes, my little love?" he responded, his voice laced with affection and a touch of wonder.

“What do fencing and farming have to do with becoming with child?" Ava's words tumbled forth, her curiosity shining brightly.

Momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question, Anthony's sister Eloise's penchant for stirring up intriguing discussions had once again cast its enchanting spell.

Clearing his throat, Anthony sought the right words to navigate this delicate topic with his beloved four-year-old daughter. He couldn't bear to deceive her – Ava deserved nothing less than the truth.

Ava continued, her voice hushed and tender, her tiny fingers delicately twirling Anthony's thumb as he lovingly caressed her hair.

She recounted the events of their recent tea gathering in the drawing room, where Aunt Eloise had dared to inquire about the nature of conceiving a child without the prerequisite of marriage.

He silently chastised his mischievous siblings for placing him in such a predicament.

Leaning against her father's comforting presence, Ava continued to unravel the tale. Uncle Lin’s mention of farm visits, swiftly followed by Uncle Benny's playful reprimand and their grandmother's firm disapproval of improper conversation.

Anthony couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his siblings, convinced that they were intentionally conspiring to complicate his life.

In his heart, he secretly harbored thoughts of committing a murder– if only he could get away with it – with Colin and Eloise at the top of his imaginary list

Looking up at her father with her innocent eyes, framed by bangs that mirrored her Aunt Eloise's hairstyle, Ava sought answers. Anthony knew his little girl was wise beyond her years, her intellect far surpassing her tender age.

He sighed inwardly, contemplating how to address her inquiries. He yearned for the eloquence of his late father, Edmund, who always had the right words at the ready. But he reminded himself that he was Anthony, not Edmund, and that he needed to find his own way as a father.

"Like your grandma said, Ava, these are improper topics of conversation for now, my love," Anthony said, his heart aching at the disappointment reflected in her big brown puppy eyes. His little girl deserved the truth, but he also wanted to protect her innocence.

"Dada," Ava began, her voice filled with determination, "it's contradictory. You're not married, but you have me. You and Uncle Lin and Uncle Benny all fence, and they don’t have children. And none of you are married either." She presented her observations like a mini-lecturer, her inquisitive mind seeking understanding.

Her questions were indeed profound for a four-year-old, and he wished he had all the answers poised at the tip of his tongue, like his father Edmund always had.

"Sweetheart," he began, his voice filled with tenderness, "you are my very, very smart girl, aren't you?" His eyes held a mixture of pride and adoration.

“Being with child is a big concept, my little baby. When you grow up and your little head is ready, I promise to explain it all to you. It will be easier for you to grasp and understand."

Ava nodded, her eyes brightening with trust and innocence as she settled comfortably on her father's lap.

As their conversation continued, the father and daughter delved into other delightful topics, their interaction a heartwarming testament to the unbreakable bond they shared.

As dinner approached, Ava's determination to perfect her teacup sketch alongside her uncle Benedict in his art studio remained unwavering.

Anthony entered the drawing room, expecting to find his daughter. However, to his surprise, he discovered Colin and Gregory engaged in playful banter, while Francesca and Eloise quietly indulged in their book.

"Colin, you are hereby forbidden from opening that barbarous mouth of yours in front of my daughter ever again!" Anthony declared, his voice laced with exasperation.

Without hesitation, he swatted his brother on the head, eliciting a chuckle from Francesca. "Well, it seems I missed the epic incident that transpired this afternoon," Francesca remarked, her eyes still fixed on her book

“Perhaps my little Ava could regale us with the tale," Francesca suggested, peering up from her book to look at Anthony, who was busy rolling his eyes.

"Ah, the remarkable talent she possesses for storytelling," Eloise chimed in.

"That's precisely why you should never leave a child in the company of starving artists and heartbroken poets." Colin, couldn't resist adding

Sighing and brooding, Anthony made his exit from the drawing room, muttering under his breath, "Vicious bunch, the lot of you."

"Wow, would you just look at my incredibly talented little baby," Benedict exclaimed in awe, gazing up at the teacup sketched with Ava's tiny, charcoal-smudged hands.

“Uncle Ben, I can't seem to get this part right," she admitted, pointing to the saucer beneath. Before Anthony could enter the room, he was greeted by the heartwarming sight of his daughter perched on his brother's lap, receiving guidance.

"Ah, children," Anthony called out, his voice filled with affection. "Dada!" Ava's eyes lit up as she spotted her father, proudly presenting him with her sketch.

“Look, I made a teacup!" Her smile radiated pure joy, Chubby cheeks adorned with smudges of charcoal. Benedict gently wiped off the smudges, his adoration for his niece shining brightly.

"This is absolutely beautiful, my dear. I'm certain we have Uncle Ben's guidance to thank,” Anthony praised, beaming at the masterpiece.

Ava turned around, planting a sloppy kiss on Benedict's cheek. "Thank you, Uncle Ben. You're the absolute best!" she declared, her love for him evident in her words.

"And you, my darling, are my favorite person in the whole wide world," Benedict replied, his heart swelling with adoration for his beloved niece.

“Now, come on, you artists, I'm sure are both famished. It's dinnertime," Anthony interjected,

Anthony, guiding Ava down the stairs, holding her hand on one side, while Benedict held her other hand. In that moment, Ava truly embodied the cherished spirit of the Bridgerton family, loved and adored by all.

On a delightful morning, Eloise found herself in a fit of frustration, adamantly insisting on going to the spring book fair.

Violet, ever the concerned mother, refused to let her daughter wander the streets unaccompanied.

Naturally, Ava, who mimicked her beloved aunt in everything, also insisted on joining them at the fair.

As Anthony entered the room, his hat gracefully handed to the footman, he greeted the ladies amidst their bickering. "A very good morning to you, ladies," he chimed in, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Anthony, please talk some sense into your sister and daughter. They insist on going to the book fair," Violet pleaded, finally finding a moment to pour herself a cup of tea.

Eloise, walking towards her brother, continued to grumble, "Why must there always be this permission nonsense? Colin practically flies out of the door like a leaf!"

Little Ava followed her aunt quietly, her chubby hands swiftly grabbing a biscuit from Daphne's saucer on the way, earning a teasing glare from her aunt.

"But Eloise, we have an entire library here. What could you possibly find there that you don't have already?" Anthony questioned, genuinely curious.

Eloise's annoyance grew by the minute as she replied, "How will we ever know if we don't go, Anthony?"

Ava, standing beside them, joined in, her sweet voice chiming, "Yes, Dada, please! I want to see too!"

Anthony's gaze shifted downward to his daughter, her little hands holding a half-eaten biscuit, with crumbs lingering near her lips. He couldn't help but be captivated by her big, brown puppy eyes that mirrored his own.

Crouching down to Ava's level, Anthony lovingly brushed away the crumbs around her mouth. He then turned to Eloise and made a decision.

“Fine, if you both wish to go, I shall accompany you," he declared, lifting Ava into his arms as she hugged him tightly, brimming with joy. Together, they walked out of the room, embarking on their book fair adventure.

"Wow, it's like she's holding a secret Bridgerton family spellbook," Colin exclaimed with a mischievous grin, earning playful nods and from his siblings.

"Next time someone pushes Anthony to the edge, we'll just send in Ava, and poof! Instant peace and sanity restored!" His statement elicited laughter that echoed throughout the room, as they imagined the adorable Ava as their secret weapon against Anthony's moments of frustration.

The overcast afternoon provided a pleasant ambiance as Anthony held little Ava's hand, strolling amidst the book fair with his sister, Eloise.

Random lords greeted the viscount while Eloise searched for an edition of Elizabeth Gaskell's new novel. Little Ava, pointing and laughing at various sights, brought an air of joy to the group. Suddenly, they heard a commotion at one of the book stalls.

"Cease your wailing like a child for a toy! I arrived here first, and thus, I shall claim this book," a girl's voice asserted as they drew closer to the commotion.

Eloise noticed the very same novel clutched tightly in the lady's hand. Anthony observed a girl of Eloise's age, donned in a pastel lilac gown with meticulously arranged and adorned hair, clearly new to ton.

"Proper ladies do not engage in reading. Have you no inkling of decorum?" a young man, a year or so younger than Anthony, retorted with a haughty tone.

The girl scoffed at his words, her gaze ablaze with determination. “Only Illiterates do not engage in reading for the simple reason that they cannot, but then there exist individuals like you, whose intellect fails to grasp knowledge despite indulging in literature," she retorted with a fierceness in her stare.

In the midst of this exchange, Ava, clapping her tiny hands, caught the girl's attention.

Anthony furrowed his brow, looking at his daughter with confusion. "Most admirably expressed, miss," the girl turned and bestowed a smile upon little Ava.

Anthony glared at the man, disapproving of his inquisitive gaze towards his daughter, holding her hand firmly.

Delving into her pouch, the girl rummaged for pennies. "I should like to obtain that book," the man persisted.

“I should like to consign you to a hasty grave," she retorted through gritted teeth, his embarrassment palpable.

Having paid the shopkeeper, she raised her gaze and ordered the man to depart. He hastily retreated, disappearing from sight.

Approaching little Ava, the girl gracefully lowered herself, crouching before her. “Hello love I gather you possess an affinity for literature," she inquired, her voice gentle and melodious.

“Yes, miss, I love reading. My aunt Eloise here introduced me to the world of books," Ava responded, her pudgy finger pointing towards Eloise, who reciprocated the girl's smile.

"I daresay both of you possess exquisite taste," the girl affirmed with a smile. "Yes, and you are very, very pretty, almost like the angels my uncle Benny writes poems about," Ava complimented, leaving the girl in front of her in awe.

"Well, it takes one to see one. I'm sure your uncle would know," the girl responded referring to Ava,her smile enchanting.

Eloise introduced herself, saying, “hello , Eloise Bridgerton."The girl replied, "I am Florence Channingworth, and it is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Miss Flor... Flow... Flower, I am Ava Bridgerton." Florence beamed at the little girl's enthusiasm.Unable to pronounce Florence's full name, Ava chimed in eagerly,

“And this, is my father, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," Ava introduced her father. To say Florence was captivated by him would be an understatement. His countenance radiated extraordinary handsomeness.

"Good afternoon, Miss Channingworth," Anthony greeted, surprised by the magnetic presence of the young lady.

Love at first sight was a notion he had never subscribed to, but Florence's interaction with his daughter and her boldness in confronting the discourteous man intrigued him.

“Greeting, Lord Bridgerton," Florence replied, unable to divert her gaze from him.

“You are the daughter of the Duke of Gloucester, if I am not mistaken, Miss Channingworth?" Anthony inquired, recognizing the prestigious name.

Cascading waterfalls, enveloping him in a momentary trance. He quickly composed himself as she replied, "Indeed, my lord, I am the daughter of the Duke of Gloucester. We have recently arrived in the ton."

"I was precisely in search of that particular book, but it seems there is only a solitary copy available," Eloise interjected, her eyes fixated on the coveted novel as if she had discovered a long-lost treasure.

“Yes, it was just released, Miss Eloise, as you are undoubtedly aware," Florence replied, meeting Eloise's gaze with understanding.

A glimmer appeared in her eyes as she continued, "However, might I propose an arrangement? I shall embark upon reading this book, and within a week's time, I shall pen you a letter and hand it over along with the cherished novel."

"And perhaps, dear Ava, you and I could engage in a discourse about the book, if your father deems it agreeable," Florence suggested, turning her attention towards Ava and Anthony.

"Who cares about what Ava and her father do? I'm up for the discussion with you," Eloise exclaimed with infectious excitement, causing a mischievous grin to spread across Florence's face.

In the midst of the enthusiasm, little Ava pinched Eloise on the arm, for leaving her out prompting a surprised yelp from her

"Of course, Miss Flower, I... I would very much like that," Ava chimed in, her grin widening. She turned to her father, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

.”Wouldn't we, Dada?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation and a touch of cheekiness.

Ava looked up at her father with wide, pleading eyes, silently pleading for his approval.

Anthony couldn't deny the sparkle of joy in his daughter's eyes or the genuine warmth emanating from Florence.

"Of course, anything that brings happiness to my girls," he affirmed with a smile.

With a beam of satisfaction, Eloise exclaimed, "We shall eagerly anticipate our literary discussions, Miss Channingworth!"

“As shall I, Miss Eloise,” Florence replied, her smile radiating a genuine fondness for the spirited girl.

As Florence bid him farewell, her eyes lingering on him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing.

"I shall bid you adieu," she said, her gaze filled with a captivating tenderness.

"Have a splendid afternoon, Miss Channingworth," he replied, unable to conceal the fondness in his smile.

He watched Florence walk away, her graceful figure etching a bittersweet image in his mind. Little Ava, always observant, waved goodbye with unabashed enthusiasm, while Eloise radiated with excitement, relishing the newfound bond with her new book friend and the treasured novel she had acquired.

The Viscount couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events.

One moment, he was drowning his sorrows at White', and the next, he found himself engrossed in a conversation with three delightful ladies, discussing novels amidst the lively ambiance of the book fair.

"Dada, let's hurry home! I must inform Uncle Benny about the angelic Miss Flower, so he can compose more delightful poems," Ava exclaimed, her words breaking through her father's trance.

Her innocence and eagerness melted Anthony's heart, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth enveloping him.

After four eventful days, Florence found herself comfortably seated at home, diligently penning a letter to Miss Eloise.

She carefully wrapped the cherished book in a neat brown paper, preparing it for its journey. Lost in her thoughts,she heard a murmur,

"And this love letter is for..." Suddenly, her peaceful reverie was shattered by a familiar voice, causing her to let out a startled exclamation. The ink from her pen spilled onto the letter, creating an unfortunate mess.

She turned around to find Simon, her dear friend and brother, towering over her. "Simon!" she exclaimed, slightly exasperated as he enveloped her in a tight embrace.

“Please release me! You've ruined my letter," she protested, her words muffled by his hug.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my own sister. How are you faring? Are your romantic novel daydreams finally coming to fruition?" he teased, casting a mischievous glance at the book and the ink-stained letter, his eyes catching the familiar last name "Bridgerton."

"Shut your cheeky mouth! I met a companion at the book fair the other day, and I was penning a missive to her. But thanks to your irritating antics, it's all ruined now!"Florence's frustration grew, and she couldn't help but retort.

"Just when I thought you'd be elated to see me, it seems you prefer the company of strangers over your dear brother. I am utterly wounded," he remarked with a hint of jest. Simon feigned hurt, his expression mockingly pained.

"Ah, it appears my children have already commenced their squabbling." Before Florence could reply, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of His Grace, the Duke of Gloucester, her father. He entered the room and caught sight of his daughter and Simon, engaging in their playful banter. With a light-hearted tone, he commented.

"Father, Simon has appeared and started to vex me," she said, pointing towards the mischievous Basset boy.

"Well, why don't the two of you take a stroll together and catch up? I wouldn't want my children serving each others heads to me for dinner, which will surely happen if you remain cooped up in the house," their father suggested with a knowing smile.

Simon's smirk widened as Florence let out a groan. "Oh, Flo it seems we'll have to personally deliver your book," Simon remarked playfully.

"Have I mentioned my disdain for the male species?" she quipped, glancing at her father before walking away with the book in hand. Before leaving, she planted a kiss on her father's cheek, and he smiled warmly at his daughter's antics.

"I'll take good care of her," Simon assured her father, and the Duke of Hastings pulled him into a heartfelt embrace. "Welcome home, son," he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion.

The Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Hastings shared a deep bond, one that extended beyond their friendship and into the realm of family.

"Tell me more, Uncle Lin. Do they have angels like Miss Flower in Greece too?" Ava's newfound fascination with Miss Florence had taken over the Bridgerton household.

She was perhaps the first lady, outside of her aunts, who shared similar ideals—an uncommon occurrence that Ava found intriguing.

Ever since that day at the book fair, she had pestered Benedict for multiple poems, asked Eloise every day if she had received the letter yet, and requested Anthony to share more stories about Florence, given his knowledge of her father.

Unfortunately, Anthony could provide little information, as Simon had only mentioned the Channingworths in passing. Nonetheless, Ava seized every opportunity to bring up the Channingworth lady.

"Whoever this Flower is, will she ever bloom, or are we to be left with just stories about her?" Colin jested, eliciting laughter from the Bridgertons.

The entire family had gathered in the drawing room for their afternoon tea.

"His Grace, Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings, and Miss Florence Channingworth."Just then, the butler announced Anthony's excitement and confusion mingled together, and Eloise and Ava's eyes widened with anticipation, their gazes fixed on the entrance.

"Bridgerton!" Simon's voice filled the room with excitement, and the Bridgerton family promptly rose to their feet, showing their respect for the Duke of Hastings.

Anthony couldn't contain his joy and immediately pulled his best friend into a tight embrace. "Basset, it's good to see you," he greeted him warmly.

Florence, following closely behind Simon, observed their surprise reunion with curiosity. Unbeknownst to her, Anthony and Simon had been the closest of friends since their college days.

As she took in the scene, little Ava couldn't contain her excitement and dashed towards Florence, her pigtails bouncing with each step. Florence, delighted by the young girl's enthusiasm, knelt down to embrace her.

"Oh, I was waiting for you !” Ava exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration. Florence's face lit up with a radiant smile. "And I’m just as excited, dear Ava," she replied, her voice as sweet as honey.

Caught in a moment of awe, Anthony couldn't tear his gaze away from Florence. She seemed to embody everything her presence ignited a warmth in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time.

As Anthony continued to gaze at Florence, he couldn't help but be aware of the significant age difference between them. She was around Eloise's age, and he knew it would be deemed improper to entertain such thoughts about a young lady like her. Yet, his heart seemed determined, well the heart want what it wants.

"How are you, Ava?" Florence asked, her attention now fully focused on the little girl.

"I'm fantastic! Uncle Simon brought Miss Flower with him," Ava exclaimed, pointing towards Florence. The room burst into laughter at Ava's innocent mix-up of names.

Florence chuckled, her eyes meeting Anthony's. "Well, I'm honored to be in the presence of such esteemed company," she said, her words accompanied by a playful smile. Anthony's heart skipped a beat, and he felt his cheeks flush.

The shared glance did not go unnoticed by Lady Bridgerton, who exchanged knowing looks with her eldest son, Benedict, and Daphne. It seemed that Anthony's foolish heart was betraying him.

The Bridgerton family sat together in the elegant drawing room, their laughter and warmth filling the air. Anthony's mother, Violet, sat regally in her favorite armchair, overseeing the lively gathering.

Ava, perched on Benedict's lap, tugged at his sleeve, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Uncle Ben, do you think Miss Flower is an angel in disguise?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

Benedict chuckled, ruffling Ava's hair affectionately. “Well, little one, Miss Florence certainly has a grace and beauty that rivals the angels," he replied, casting a playful glance at Florence, who blushed at the compliment.

“But Ava, you're the one who sees angels, remember? Perhaps you can tell us if Miss Florence truly is one,”Anthony suggested, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned closer to his daughter.

Ava's face lit up, her imagination running wild. "Oh, yes, Dada! Miss Florence can be my angel friend, and we can have tea parties and read books in the clouds!" she exclaimed, earning delighted laughter from her siblings.

"Well, in that case, I hope you remember to save some tea and biscuits for your Uncle Simon. I wouldn't want to be left out of the heavenly tea party," Simon quipped.

"Simon,, I believe tea parties in the clouds require a certain level of etiquette. Can you manage that?" Florence asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Why, my dear sister I'll have you know that I can be the most refined cloud tea party guest you'll ever meet!" he proclaimed, causing Florence to burst into laughter.

Violet couldn't help but notice the transformation in her son, Anthony. The genuine smile that graced his face as he listened to Florence's laughter brought a sense of joy and nostalgia to her heart.

"Miss flower! Will you play with me and tell me more stories?" she asked, her voice filled with pure innocence.

“Of course, my dear Ava. I would love nothing more” she replied, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Soon the time for Simon and Florence's departure drew near, Ava's face crumpled with sadness.

She clung tightly to Florence's hand, her eyes welling up with tears. "But Miss Flower, you can't go yet! I don't want you to leave. Will you promise to come back soon?" she pleaded, her voice quivering with genuine distress.

“Oh, my sweet Ava, I promise you that I will see you soon” Florence's heart ached at Ava's visible sadness.

She knelt down and cupped the little girl's face in her hands, wiping away her tears with gentle affection.

she assured her, her voice filled with tenderness.

As Anthony held Ava in his arms, he spoke softly to his daughter, his voice filled with tenderness.

“Ava, my love, Miss Florence has other responsibilities to attend to. It would be impolite to keep her waiting. She will visit us again, I promise," he reassured her, soothing her with his comforting presence and gentle strokes on her hair.

Florence couldn't help but admire the beautiful bond between Anthony and Ava. It tugged at her heartstrings and stirred a mix of emotions within her.

She found herself yearning for a family of her own, with a loving husband and a precious child. She quickly scolded herself for entertaining such thoughts about a married man and redirected her attention to the present moment.

Ava's sniffling brought Florence back to reality, and she knelt down to her level, offering reassurance.

“Ava, my dear, I will come to see you once you have finished reading that book with Aunt Eloise." she promised, a warm smile gracing her lips.

"It was a pleasure to meet all of you," Florence addressed the Bridgerton siblings, her eyes filled with genuine appreciation.

The chorus of reciprocal sentiments filled the air, as each sibling expressed their gratitude for the encounter.

Turning to Lady Bridgerton, Florence extended her gratitude, a sincere smile gracing her features.

“Lady Bridgerton, your family is truly remarkable, and your granddaughter is a delight. Thank you for welcoming us into your home unexpectedly. It has been a joy to meet you all."

Violet Bridgerton beamed with affection, her eyes filled with adoration for her family. "My dear Florence, my granddaughter and I have taken a liking to you. Please continue to visit us. We would love to hear more from you and have the pleasure of your company," she warmly expressed, turning her gaze towards Anthony and Ava

Eloise, unable to contain her excitement, interjected, "Miss Florence, I can't wait to read this book! I will get back to you soon with my thoughts and opinions." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Florence couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's eagerness

"Eloise, I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the book. Let's drop the formalities and simply be Florence and Eloise," she suggested with a warm smile.

"Yes, just Florence and Eloise, like two kindred spirits” Eloise's face lit up with joy as she nodded eagerly. "We shall," Simon said, extending his arm for Florence to take

. With a graceful smile, Florence accepted his arm, her heart feeling a mixture of emotions. The time had come for them to bid their final goodbyes and return to their respective homes.

Florence, known for her directness, couldn't resist her curiosity as she broke the silence during their carriage ride back home.

"Simon, I must ask, how was the viscount during your time at Oxford?" she inquired, her eyes searching for any hint of the truth in his expression.

Anthony's mysterious aura had intrigued her, and she wanted to unravel the layers surrounding him.

"Like most men are during their college days," he replied evasively, not eager to delve into the past. He had reservations about where Florence's curiosity might lead.

"Ah, the epitome of enlightenment, I suppose," she quipped, a touch of amusement in her voice.

“But it's interesting to see you, someone usually guarded, open up so easily to him and especially to his daughter. It's not a side of you I'm accustomed to. Be cautious, Flo, this is unlike you," he warned, concern lacing his words.

“Ava is a little angel, and I don't wish to discuss this matter any further," Florence declared firmly, closing her eyes and leaning back, seeking solace in a momentary escape.

She had no desire to entertain Simon's doubts and observations, feeling weary from the day's events. "Wake me when we arrive," she added, giving him no room for further discussion, leaving Simon to sigh in contemplation.

"Dada, wouldn't it be jolly if Miss Flower came and lived with us?" little Ava asked her father, snuggled in bed as he finished reading her a bedtime story.

Anthony, lost in his thoughts, pondered the idea for a moment. "Well, my darling, I suppose it would be rather splendid," he replied, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Do you like Miss Flower as much as Auntie Eloise and I do?" Ava questioned innocently, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Anthony struggled to find the right words to express his feelings. "I... umm, she's a delightful lady," he responded, trying to choose his words carefully.

Ava's excitement grew as an idea popped into her head. With an animated expression, she suggested,

“Dada, why don't you invite Miss Flower to join us at Aubrey Hall next week for a jolly vacation? You're older, and if you charm her with your wisdom, perhaps she will consider the invitation."

Anthony couldn't help but smile at his daughter's ingenuity. "Did you just call me old?" he gasped dramatically, attempting to divert the topic, causing Ava to burst into giggles. "My dear baby thinks I'm an old man," he playfully teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Ava replied, giggling uncontrollably. Anthony seized the opportunity, asking mischievously, "Say that again, my dear."

He began tickling her, eliciting a symphony of laughter from Ava. Eventually, he stopped tickling her as she drifted off to sleep, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts about Miss Channingworth.

As he sat in the quiet room, a myriad of emotions swirled within him. The innocent admiration of his daughter, coupled with his own growing fascination, made him ponder the possibilities that lay ahead.

One fine morning, Simon ventured out for a hunting expedition, while Florence strolled through the park with her dog, relishing the radiant sunlight.

In the distance, she spotted a familiar sight—the unmistakable pigtails of a little girl. "Ava!" she called out, her voice carrying through the air.

Ava, sitting with her father in a picturesque garden set up for a picnic, turned around upon hearing the familiar voice. With hesitant steps, Ava approached Florence, who reassured her, "Don't worry, love, he won't cause any harm," as she observed the little girl's initial hesitation to pet the corgi.

"Hello," Ava greeted, gently caressing the dog with her small chubby hands. "Miss Flower, what is his name?" she inquired. "His name is William," Florence responded.

"William, you are such a good dog," Ava exclaimed, as the corgi nestled against her.

“Goodmorning Miss Channingworth, the weather is fine today” Anthony made his presence known, acknowledging Florence with a warm greeting.

She looked ethereal, like a divine being, donning a sage green pastel gown that complemented her caramel brown hair, adorned with a pretty head accessory.

"Indeed, Lord Bridgerton. I suppose you have a lovely picnic going on," she remarked. "Yes, Ava seems to adore the sunshine. And now she's taken a liking to your dog," Anthony replied, pointing out the little girl's fascination with the canine.

"I am pleased that William is receiving more affection," Florence smiled. Anthony gestured for her to take a seat, to which she gracefully complied.

“So, how long will you be in London ?" Anthony inquired, offering a succulent strawberry to her.

With a mischievous smile, Florence retorted, "Why, Lord Bridgerton, have I started to annoy you by crossing paths with you at every possible turn?"

Anthony stumbled over his words, flustered by her playful remark. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I was just curious," he stammered, watching her bite into the juicy fruit.

Suddenly, Anthony's mouth felt dry, and he loosened his tight collar slightly. "In fact, I am glad to have encountered you. It's a refreshing change from the insufferable people in the ton," Anthony confessed, his throat tightening.

"Well, perhaps after the upcoming season ends. It commences in two weeks," Florence revealed.

"Ah," Anthony responded, caught off guard. "Are you looking to marry?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Florence replied, "Not really. I plan to sit out this season since I delayed it by a year. I want to observe how things unfold before making any decisions. I am not particularly fond of marrying just for the sake of it. I seek someone who sees me for who I am and not merely as their wife. I know it may be too much to ask for, but..."

Before Florence could finish her sentence, Anthony interrupted her, his gaze locked deeply into her eyes. "Miss Channingworth, you deserve nothing less than what you desire," he declared passionately, stirring intense emotions within Florence.

The shared gaze between them spoke volumes, as their connection seemed to transcend the bounds of ordinary conversation.

"Dada, did you invite Miss Flower to join us at Aubrey Hall for a vacation?" Ava questioned her father, standing by William who wagged his tail contentedly.

“Oh, I forgot," Anthony admitted, realizing his oversight. "Dada, how could you?" Ava playfully scolded him, finding her place between her father and Florence. William conveniently positioned himself by Ava's side, adding to the picture of a complete and happy family.

Florence couldn't help but admire the domestic scene unfolding before her, cherishing this precious moment on a sunny morning.

"Miss Channingworth, I would like to extend an invitation for you to come and stay with us at our country home in Kent for a vacation," Anthony proposed, his words interrupting Florence's thoughts.

Florence was taken aback by the offer, unsure of what to say, and Anthony's intense gaze only intensified her nervousness.

Would it be awkward? Should she accept? "I insist, please," Anthony reiterated, noticing her hesitation.

Meeting Anthony's longing gaze, Florence finally found her voice, "Yes, I would love that. I'm sure Ava will be thrilled." Deep down, she knew the invitation meant more than just a vacation for Ava.

"For Ava," Anthony affirmed, a sense of relief washing over him at her acceptance. Florence met his gaze and echoed his words, "For Ava." Both of them understood that the invitation held a deeper meaning, extending far beyond a simple vacation.

Have you lost your mind?" Simon exclaimed when Florence mentioned that she would be leaving soon to join the Bridgertons in Kent.

His disbelief was evident in his voice as he tried to comprehend her decision.Florence sighed, understanding Simon's concern.

"I know it may seem sudden, but Viscount Bridgerton invited me to spend some time at Aubrey Hall with them," she explained, trying to rationalize her choice. "It's just a vacation, Simon, and Ava is looking forward to it."

Simon's brows furrowed as he looked at her intently. "But you barely know them, Florence. It's not like you to impulsively go off and spend time with strangers," he protested, his protective instincts kicking in.

Florence nodded, acknowledging his valid point but kept quiet Simon sighed, realizing that Florence had made up her mind. "Just promise me you'll be careful and keep me updated," he urged, his concern for her well-being overriding his initial shock.

"I promise, Simon," Florence reassured him, grateful for his concern. "I'll make sure to keep in touch. You know I won't do anything reckless."

Simon nodded, reluctantly accepting her decision. "Alright then, but remember, if anything feels off or uncomfortable, you can always leave. Your safety and happiness come first," he emphasized, wanting her to prioritize herself above all else.

As they bid each other farewell, Florence couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about her upcoming adventure with the Bridgertons.

—

To be continued…

[arrthurpendragon]

Dear Theodosia Ch. 1 Sneak Peek - Flashback

“Come along, Thea,” ten-year-old Anthony Bridgerton called to the blonde girl trailing behind him. They were already too far behind their fathers, who were hiking ahead of them on the well-worn trail.

Six-year-old Theodosia Beauchamp trudged along behind with a pout on her face. “You’re always telling me what to do.”

Anthony stopped walking and stood tall. He waited until she was beside him to continue. “Best get used to it, we’re to be married one day.”

Theodosia looked up at him and scrunched her nose. “You remind me of that every time I see you. I don’t want to marry you.”

“I don’t want to marry you either,” Anthony retorted, narrowing his eyes at her. “But we have to. Our fathers have already made the agreement.”

“Maybe if my father knew how bossy you are, I wouldn’t have to marry you.”

“And maybe if my father knew how annoying you are, I wouldn’t have to marry you.”

Anthony and Theodosia stood there, practically nose to nose glaring at each other. But the pair was quickly broken apart when their fathers began to call for them. “Coming!” they both called simultaneously before the two of them sprinted down the path toward the sound of their fathers’ voices.

[darsynia]

Find the Word Tag!

Tagged by @residentdormouse and I sure am delighted! My words are: Playful, Energy/Energized, Exhausted, Delight/Delightful, Sorrow, and I'm putting the first one second because it's smutty :) It was HARD to find 'sorrow' in my stories! Edit: and somehow no Steve! Whoops. Tag me again :P

I'd like to tag: @ronearoundblindly @themaradaniels @peyton--warren @baba-fett @sobeautifullyobsessed @bakerstreethound and @deepbatched (spreading around the fandoms/characters hehe! I hereby state that if you don't have many WiPs to use stories you already have published!)

Your words are: Tear/Tearing, False, Blanket, Sweet, Ground (any form)

From 'Joined By the Waters of Time,' Anthony Bridgerton/OC | ENERGY

“I beg pardon, Lady Bridgerton, I did not see you,” Cara said hastily, rushing to stand so she could dip into a greeting curtsey.

“Do not be concerned,” Lady Violet said with a brisk head shake. “I was pleased to see you awake and looking well, but you seemed contemplative, and I did not wish to disturb you.”

“I have bad experiences with thunderstorms,” Cara explained.

“Meanwhile, my brother loves them,” Daphne laughed. “He will probably jest that your dislike of them is part of your ‘involuntary resistance.’”

“What is this?” Lady Violet asked, setting her sewing aside and walking over.

Daphne looked disconcerted. “His remarks were made in frustration, of course, with an eye toward explaining his lack of success, but…” she paused, brows furrowing. Cara imagined she was searching for a diplomatic way to explain their conflict.

“Until recently, I was engaged in a campaign to match your son with my cousin. As such, I exerted my energy in redirecting his attentions away from myself whenever possible.”

She had to congratulate herself on her forthrightness, which would hopefully take any pressure off of Edwina if there was still any question of their match. What she hadn’t expected was Lady Violet’s surprise. It hinted at the idea that their invitation had always been centered around herself, and not a choice between cousins.

“So is there voluntary resistance, as well, then?” Lady Violet’s voice was amused, and she broke out into a wide smile when she saw Cara’s attempt to prevaricate. “Poor Anthony.”

From 'Iron Helix,' Tony Stark/OC | PLAYFUL

“A judicious retreat. People respect a decisive leader, but not one that clings to a losing position. Give in.”

He was definitely moving incrementally nearer. She yearned to close the distance, but his words were weighted. The only thing that would be worse than being rejected, Evie realized, would be to have been rejected after she got to have this. That’s why she followed Tony’s example and grabbed a handful of the blanket on the bed beside her and looked him right in the eyes.

“Which option are you asking for?” she said, feeling like she had a responsibility to signal her certainty that he’d reject her. 

Tony’s nose brushed her cheek, and his breath danced across her lips.  “The one where you trust me,” he whispered, hoarsely. “Yield, Hyacinth. It’s easy, watch--”

--and with that, his lips met hers, one hand tearing away the bunched-up blanket at her hips to drag her underneath him. Tony went from teasing to beguiling, putting all his sensual powers of persuasion to bear on her. 

Evie was on board, raising her bare leg and angling her foot across his backside, locking him in place. He ran the flat of his hand from her hip, across her chest, and along her arm, linking their fingers together and slamming them into the mattress.

She loved kissing, and it was obvious Tony did too. He was really good at it, dominant but not domineering, playful, not afraid to show her he was affected and enjoying himself. And if she’d thought his ability to wreck her without using his hands was heady enough, she was completely seduced by him now. Their combined hands were a proxy of the push and pull of their bodies; Evie rolled her hips in response to the drag of his lips and tongue, and he ground against her, pressing his hardness right where she wanted it.

From 'Trust Fall,' Tony Stark/OC | EXHAUSTED

It’s not long after takeoff when a flight attendant comes over and asks Emory if she’s the person pictured in the article on her phone. She’s already shell-shocked and exhausted after telling her friend and colleague that the organization he’s been risking his life for is infiltrated by literal bad guys. She’d told Clint while still hanging underneath the helicopter, but once they were inside, the atmosphere was too tense to tell anyone else. Agent Rumlow and his team had lost two guys and a few more were wounded. They’d all been furious and demoralized, and that was without knowing the secret about HYDRA’s infiltration.

“Miss?”

“I’m sorry, it was a long day,” Emory says. She feels stretched, like keeping a secret this impactful can multiply in a person’s system until the infection takes them down from within. “Yes, that’s me, but what--”

“You were the one in the cave with Tony Stark?” The young woman’s excitement dampens as she frowns at her phone. “He-- he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!” Emory says, deeply confused. “What--”

She grabs the phone, and it’s a testament to what she sees written there that the flight attendant doesn’t protest.

From 'Diminished Seventh,' Stephen Strange/OC | DELIGHTED

“Surgeon. You did say that.” Amy let her legs slide down from where she’d drawn them up against her chest. “Why aren’t you anymore? Were you looking for a way to cheat death?”

The question was fraught, but the words had already left her lips. Explaining why she wanted to retract them would be more painful than pushing through.

“No,” Stephen said. The word bore more weight than it ought to, she noticed. “I was injured. My hands.” He didn’t hold them up, instead toying with the tubes of the stethoscope absently. He shrugged, and again, she sensed weight there, a great loss bandaged up in shrugs and sarcasm. “I lost that job, needed another one.” 

His hidden sadness made Amy again yearn to see what he looked like pleased, contented, happy, joyful, delighted. She wanted to collect his emotions, mix and match them, be able to conjure them on demand. The strength of it shook her.

While she was reckoning with that, Stephen leaned over and pressed the stethoscope to her chest. Amy seized up, too vulnerable to want him quite so near, not with those thoughts only a breath away.

“I thought you said you were feeling bet--” He cut himself off, pulling his hand and the medical device away. “You are afraid of me.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Amy said defensively. It was the honest truth, and as such, felt too revealing by half.

From 'A Solution More Beautiful,' Remus Lupin/OC/Sirius Black | SORROW

“Soup would be a great dinner idea,” Remus said, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “Even though Sirius detests soup. It’s almost as if his mother trained him to be some sort of anti-soup crusader.”

“Which actually means she fed him soup every day while yelling at his technique, more like,” Elodie said, laughing.

Remus looked at her with a curious expression on his face. “Sirius talked to you about his mother?” he asked, clearly very surprised.

Elodie’s heart sank. She’d slipped up with her unnatural knowledge again. She decided to deflect with the truth. “No, he didn’t,” she said. “I just remember the subject of his mother came up, once, and his reaction was so negative I just extrapolated from there.”

Remus made a wry face and looked down at where his hand was playing with a fraying thread from the couch. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up there, but he’s got a lot of baggage from his parents, and it would be a powerful thing if he felt he could unload some of it.” He looked up at her, and she could see the depth of his caring for his friend reflected in the sorrow in his eyes. “He had a warped view of family dynamics even before Azkaban.”

“We’re his family now,” Elodie said. She had tried to say it with firm conviction, but she yawned halfway through. “Damnit. I meant to sound more badass there. Like a final line before a commercial break.”

“The funny thing here is I can’t tell which is a typical Elodieism and which is a product of pain medicine and sleep deprivation,” Remus chuckled.

Trust Fall and Diminished Seventh are here on Tumblr!