#purple hyacinth spoilers

[snakesong]

Purple Hyacinth Theory Re: The Kidnapped Kids

So remember in Ep. 48 when Lauren asked Tim Sake whether the kidnapped kids were still alive?

He answered "Yes! No! I don't know." But his entire answer was a lie. Very perplexing.

Theory: Sake knows what happened to one of the remaining kidnapped kids, but not the other.

Based on what little we've seen of Kieran's backstory in Ep. 136, Apostle X kidnapped a bunch of kids, but only two survived. Kieran was one of them. We don't really know the identity of the second one. Evidence suggests Dylan was among the kidnapped kids (his hat was found in a weird location, and Kieran somehow learned the meaning of purple hyacinths before he became an assassin), but we don't know if he survived.

Back to Lauren's conversation with Sake -- "I don't know" is a lie because Sake definitely knows what happened to one of the remaining kidnapped kids; Kieran's rise to infamy is basically a legend in the Phantom Scythe. "Yes" and "no" are also lies because he doesn't know for sure if the second kid --possibly Dylan-- escaped from Apostle X alive.

Theory 2: When Kieran said the kidnapped kids were "dead" he was technically telling the truth, but not the whole truth.

Since Kieran himself is still alive, and we know he was one of Apostle X's surviving slaves, his remark in Ep. 84 about the kidnapped kids being "dead" cannot be taken at face value. So, he has to be saying "dead" in a figurative "loss of innocence, ship of theseus" kind of way. Given how theatrical Kieran is, I wouldn't put that past him.

Conclusion: Given what we know about the kidnapped kids from Sake and Kieran, it is possible that Dylan is still alive.

[thedeathdeelers]

ok ok ok ok ok ok ok

eye contact. hand on shoulder.

“i beg you”

softly holding hands, pressed gently against chest. eye contact.

“alright”

[mysterycharacterflowers]

We've reached the end! Let's see the podium!

Congratulations for the bouquet of purple hyacinth, purple columbine and hellebore for getting in first place, his identity is…

John Ward from Faith the Unholy Trinity!

In second place, is the bouquet of aloe, fern, blue iris and sage, their identity is…

Shaun Hastings from Assassin's Creed!

Lastly, on thirds place, is the bouquet of sunflowers, dandelions, ferns, foxglove, hollyhock, lotus, balsamine, green carnation, fennel, black eyed susan and queen of night. His identity is…

Rune Saint John from The Tarot Sequence series by KD Edwards!

Thanks for everyone for participating in this tournament! See you guys later today for Season 2!

[vaskemire]

Got myself a custom calendar, and most pages are from webtoons including 3 from blue matter

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

(Now with Leader poll at the end cause I can't delete it after accidentally clicking on it.)

Alright. So. Chapter 153 gives my theory that Dakan is the Phantom Scythes leader more fodder. At this point it's still possible it's someone else, but he sure is suspicious (maybe he's just a red herring though, as his PS sympathy is very much obvious).

So. We know that the snapdragon members that survived the royal assassination became radicalized, and turned into the PS. We know Lauren's parents, the 1st and 2nd apostle (and them being this high on the ladder probably means something) didn't agree with that radicalization, and were murdered for it. Now the question is, do I think Dakan could pull that off? Maybe. He is certainly close to Tristan, and the Leader just said that Lauren not being murdered is a part of his plan. Not being able to murder a child, but murdering your friends because you believe in the cause is rough, but not unimaginable. I think the interesting question is why, if it is him, he hasn't done anything about the queen, considering they actively hate each other. You'd think he'd be able to create opportunities. An accident. But maybe it is too risky - it might expose him, and the king, who Dakan is still trying to change for the better, might shut down fully if the PS kills his wife in addition to his father. He could have a complete breakdown and try to crack down on the PS instead of listening.

I do think he is very suspicious. Pretty sure he knows about Lauren's ability, and maybe he wants to make use of that later, and that's why she needs to stick around. Either way, it's still fresh in my mind how quiet he was in that whole tumultuous time after Lune supposedly died and Lauren came clean to him and Tristan. Not saying anything sure is a way to not speak lies.

The whole 'the PS knows Lauren is a detective' (because I just checked, and it's mentioned by the 3rd first, it's not just the Leader) does mean they have an informant in a small circle of people, which they confirm - pretty sure it's March, he said himself he was part of the NSA and fed the PS information. He is maybe possibly a Leader candidate? I think I remember he knew Lauren's parents, and he knew about the snapdragon. So he could reasonably be close enough to be a member himself. (Alternatively, it would be funny if he was the 3rd, since March is the third month of the year, and I wouldn't put that past the authors). Like Dakan, he also appears to wish for a brighter future. Like the 7th, it's unclear which team he's playing, considering it is currently looking like he's leading Kym and Will to their assassination. I think Dakan is still a stronger case, but I could see March.

I think these two are the strongest candidates, and I suspect that we'll see that oh-so-deliberately placed pen again soon, if we haven't already (I'll admit I'm too lazy to check rn, this is an opinion piece and not the corkboard/red string analysis this series deserves). I will say, I think the pen points more to March stylistically than to Dakan.

Another crack candidate for the Leader would be Dylan's dad - he was close to Lauren's parents, and I don't think we ever saw his body?

Herman is suspicious too, considering he's suggested March, but for now I'd like to stick with Lauren's assessment that he's an ass but means well for his country (then again, the Leader is likely someone who is familiar with Lauren, so who knows about the accuracy of her assessment. Heck, the whole story is about her assessments, based on truth and lies, being wrong.)

At this point I am wondering just how many apostles we will know when they finally get uncovered. Because narratively, the masks make more sense if we know who's behind them, and can get a dramatic reveal out of it. But that's something to theorize about at a later date.

Okay so, since I apparently can't delete the poll I accidentally clicked on (cool feature, staff) have the question here

[himichako]

LAUKI HAVING THE SAME FAKE DEATH AS ROMAJULIETTE IS GOING TO KILL ME. SAME PEOPLE DIFFERENT FONTS

[jonboygg]

[acid-ixx]

Planned Fanfics !

ft. platonic/ yandere batfam, superfam, villains, au's & many more!

— Disclaimer! This contains massive spoilers and all my plans for future works that I'll soon publish. This is posted because I wish to update my readers upon the contents of what I'm working to write and for them to leave inputs and whatnot. Sorry for the delays and all, life is hectic and as much as I love writing, I also have a life outside of this site sadly. By the way, this is not even half of my drafts and if anyone is interested in the things written beneath here, then please do tell!

To Be His Child is All I want (A&A, Chapter 5): Confronting Jason, one of your brothers who played a role in neglecting you, and being partly the reason why you ventured out the manor to seek love, away from the unhealthy environment, was no easy task. Back and forths with him, and reasoning why you don't wish to return back 'home' only poured fire into the flames of your already aching heart, as you scream about only wishing to be loved by even a fraction of the compassion Bruce feels for all his other children was all you needed to feel happy in life. It was enough to leave Jason breathless, muddled with emotions he couldn't quite grasp.

As you drown in a seamless fit of arguing and sobbing into the arms of your brother, the manor holds a meeting regarding your sudden disappearance. Bruce is promptly disappointed at Jason's absence; the others are just as intrigued with Dick and Damian's urgency to find you. Yet all are unbeknownst to your plans of escape, and most especially to a certain Kryptonian's scheme to have you in his arms all for himself.

Family Dinner (A&A): Silly, old you can't seem to stomach the fact that they're all looking at you now at the elongated table when months ago you were a mere ghost in their eyes whilst they chatter happily amongst each other. Unfamiliar with how communicating with a family who estranged you works; you end up having a panic attack in the middle of dinner when Damian attempted to hug you.

To Love and To Cherish (Random): Bruce Wayne loves his spouse and everything about them. They're everything desirable in his eyes and he couldn't help the urges that keeps him running back to you every time he patrols to ensure not only the safety of Gotham, but for the sake of his growing plans to fully integrate you as a full-time house spouse. The problem Bruce faces, though, is that he's not actually married to you, yet, and you're unaware of his prying eyes on your form as you live alone in your shabby apartment.

Flowers on My Grave (A&A, Hanahaki AU): Flowers don't only bloom inside your lungs when you're rejected by someone you love romantically, they can also manifest through platonic love unrequited. Vomiting a bouquet of yellow carnations and an arraw of purple and blue hyacinths, you set to sever the bond of love you once felt for them once and for all.

Cold House, Lone Spouse (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): You come home from Clark's farm to sleep in your own room to make sure nobody suspects a thing; expecting to power through the pain of loneliness in your room. But you end up waking up to Bruce's body pressed against your back and his arms caging you, unrelenting in its pursuit to make sure you never seek out another man's hold again.

Once Your Son, Always Your Son (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): Your routine with your beloved son, Jon, leaves nothing else to be desired as you set about your usual nightly schedule of helping him clean up, fix his bed, and read him bedtime stories— something you've grown accustomed to love naturally as being a parent does. But when Damian comes to visit you once Jon falls asleep, he enviously demands you do the same to him and to return to the manor where a better family is waiting for you.

The Confrontation (Loving Family Unpalatable Desire): Clark's night with you always ends up with him hovering above your body, kissing all the exposed parts of your skin, and worshipping your body which lays upon his bed every night. It's the perfect fantasy, yet it's promptly shattered when he sees the familiar silhouette of his comrade, clad in all black, demanding that Clark returns his spouse back in his arms; as if he's not the very same man who left you all alone that night at the gala, available for taking.

A Father's Strange Case of Gift Giving (A&A): To make it up to you, Bruce tries to spoil you rotten with a bottomless allowance and unrestricted access to all his credit cards. Even a mansion built on your name is built as one of the family's vacation houses. One unsettling fact, though, is Bruce's proficiency of capturing every detail of all things you prefer in such a short span of time after kidnapping you. (i.e. You're unaware of the cameras planted in every corner of your room trying to capture the things that makes you smile).

Mind Games and Mind Control (Brutus): What if it were The Riddler and Scarecrow who saved you from nearly dying? With your emotional reception, and both their wits, you end up stirring more trouble for Gotham's vigilantes. But during times where you've nothing to do but watch as both villains enact upon their master plans, itching to satisfy the ache of bloodlust coursing through your veins, you start to notice the abrupt bouts of energy they exert upon tormenting whoever stares at you (sitting comfortably on a cushioned couch, treated like royalty no less) or talks behind your back— crazed for your words of approval and praise as if it's not them who are capable enough of controlling you instead.

The Powered, and the Powerless (Random, Romantic Batfam): During the night, they are your city's saviors, the light that shines bright on darkness, the hope that never wavers through moments of fear. Daytime, meanwhile, they're portrayed as a rich, socialite family who donate millions on charity and everything that promotes good costs. Power comes to them naturally, and praise is served to most of them in a silver platter for all their hard work. You can even say their status is akin to that of Gods, except you don't think of them the same way others do; choosing to utilize your immense knowledge of internet safety to publish articles and conspiracies pertaining to each member of the Wayne family through anonymous forums. Yet all this results in their interest in your secret identity.

Fate Unwanted (Random, Soulmate AU): You're a simple person living on the outskirts of an unnamed town on the boundaries of Gotham. Curious on why your parents are protective of you, forcing you to live with countless of strick rules written boldly on paper and plastered on the front of your refrigerator, and why you just can't seem to produce or perceive any soulmate bond; you set out on a mission to find the mysteries of your unmarked soul. Little did you know that the strangers you stumble upon who chose to assist you on your journey, all from every city and every known state, have found their soulmate that they're unwilling to share.

[maomaop]

Purple hyacinth

Jinshi x Maomao angst fic / contains light novel and wn spoilers. This is my first fic, so it's far from being perfect but I hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a part 2

Jinshi was preparing to leave for war; he didn’t know if he would return, if he would ever see her again, and that's why he couldn’t sleep a wink that night. Thoughts filled only with her, he decided to write. Write in an attempt to express through his words the thousands of emotions he was feeling. Why a letter? Because in these last months, they had the unfortunate circumstance to communicate solely through letters. It was their only means to stay in touch.

Jinshi’s duties had been nothing short of overwhelming and tiresome as of late, which had resulted in fewer visits. It has been three months since they last faced each other, held each other, and shared a moment together. Love came with sacrifices, and theirs was particularly harsh. However it is no surprise to them as they were both ready to endure such hardships if it meant securing a future together. 

Jinshi’s eyes welled with tears as he wrote. First one droplet, then a second, and a third. He remembered the day he promised to make her his wife, and this goal was what motivated him to work tirelessly. This is all he ever wanted; in fact, this is what they both desired. She was not a woman of many words, but she never failed to communicate her affection to him. He remembered how every time they met, she would cup his face and look at him with a worried expression, asking how much sleep he had gotten lately. The way she warmed his whole body with just her touch and took care of him with so much love. All of her actions spoke louder than any of her words.

The chances of seeing her again were too slim; he didn’t want to have any regrets. He didn’t want to leave her without words; that would be most cruel of him. And God knows if there’s anything he cares about in his doomed life, it's her. He has eyes only for her. Nothing else matters as much to him as she does.

His royal status kept him trapped, preventing him from having the freedom to fully love her as he so desires. However, nothing could ever make this love disappear, no matter the circumstances; nothing could negate these strong feelings. Not when her existence is synonymous with light. Not when the thought of seeing her fills him with a joy he has never felt before her. She was everything. He had never asked for anything in life, yet he wanted one thing: her.

No other woman could ever compare, not even the flowers that high-ranked nobles introduced to him in hopes of marriage. He smiled at them when he didn’t want to, and had to reject them after showing no interest. The thought of being destined with another woman made him sick. His desire was only for her. Yet, he could not have her.

Condemned to his rank, which some people would think of as a blessing out of pure ignorance, he on the other hand, only thought of it as a curse. Love becomes a luxury the higher your rank goes. The general public believes that people standing at the top of society should be able to have everything they desire, but they don’t. They can’t because of other pointless matters, or so he thought. They can't obtain the most important thing they desire in life—they can't be with the person they cherish the most, they can't have the freedom of loving and being loved by someone.

Jinshi was very much aware of that; yet the moment he saw her, he felt as though his entire world had been turned upside down, as if something had shifted right then and there. Whether for better or worse, he approached her, and later he realized he couldn’t detach himself from her—not in this lifetime, nor in any other. He craved only her touch, longed to see only her, desired to hear only her voice, and wished to gaze upon only her face for eternity. Their hearts, their souls, are bound by a red string, and not even death could ever change that.

Their coming together and growing close was destined, just as their separation was.

So Jinshi tirelessly wrote. He wrote until his hands began shaking. Yet when he finished the scroll, he cursed and complained that it wasn't enough. He felt like those words were not strong enough to describe what he felt. He thought that a mere letter wouldn't suffice. He had to do more, but at that moment, his body succumbed to exhaustion, unable to bear the weight of his heavy heart any longer. 

That night he dreamt of her, of course he did. He dreamt of them living together, leading a peaceful life in a small house far away from the society he loathed so much, where he had everything he ever needed. 

A love so profound, a love so strong, but a love doomed to such an unfair fate that even the skies shed tears as he did in his sleep.

It was time for him to depart, it was time to leave her. He didn’t want to, but he had to because his life was never about what he wanted, but always about what he had to do. He gathered the scroll of paper and made sure to ask Gaoshun to deliver it to her, along with a red camellia he had picked himself the night before. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when his body, heart, and soul were yearning for her with every passing second. He feared that if he saw her again, even for a second, he would never be able to leave her. Yes… He wouldn’t be able to do it at all.

Suiren began to prepare him, but he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings; his thoughts were consumed by memories of her. She looked at him through the mirror while she styled his hair, silently observing. It wasn’t the time for conversation; she understood the situation well. Suiren understood why he hadn’t uttered a word since she entered the room.

She knew what her grandson was currently experiencing, and she found it rather unfair. However, she wouldn’t dare to speak those words aloud. Instead, she closed her eyes while continuing to tend to his hair, silently praying that he would return home safe and sound. Yes, that was all she desired—for them to be together.

Time passed, and Gaoshun returned to report the successful delivery of the letter. They had to depart immediately; a long journey lay ahead of them. Jinshi walked with a stern face, trying to convince himself that he had cried enough, that he couldn’t cry anymore now. It was too late. He didn’t want to think about her, he didn’t want to look sad when he should look proud; but trying to forget someone only led to endless thoughts of them. So he walked with Gaoshun by his side, not as Jinshi but as the Moon Prince. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the carriage in silence.

Gaoshun looked at him calmly, just like Suiren; he knew all too well how Jinshi was feeling at the moment. He vowed to protect Jinshi with his life in front of the emperor, but they both knew that danger couldn’t be avoided in times of war, not even for Ka Zuigestsu. The emperor had fallen sick, and so the responsibility to lead the country in battle fell on Jinshi. He had a duty, and they were all aware of it.

Jinshi looked at the garden full of medicinal plants she would probably love. He thought about giving them all to her—common herbs though they were, but she wasn’t one to refuse gifts. His heart beat fast at the thought of her. Everything he laid his eyes on reminded him of her. She was more than just a simple lover; she was his whole world.

As he left the palace, Jinshi was once again struck with an unbearable pain plaguing his heart. It was one that wasn’t curable, one that would leave scars for the rest of his life, and most importantly, one he couldn’t do anything about, no matter what. No doctor, no medicine would be able to ease his pain, only she would. Yes, only her… he smiled softly. 

Looking up at the sky from the carriage window, he thought that by now, she would be awake. Soon she would discover what his future held, no, their future. The one they had been yearning for had just disappeared as if it were nothing. He thought that maybe they shouldn't have held back so much… That they could’ve had so much more while they still could, but unfortunately, they didn’t. They had hope; it was a gamble. The worst-case scenario was him becoming emperor, and they both didn’t want that. Little did they know back then that a much worse fate awaited them…

He felt relieved that he could leave her with a letter, one he wished she would cherish her whole life, one that held so much love. He didn’t know how she would react to it; he hadn’t thought about that. He only desired to leave her with words that would convey the same weight as his feelings. That’s all he hoped for.

As they were leaving the capital, thousands of civilians flooded the streets, waving goodbyes to their loved ones. Women and children cried at the sudden departure of their fathers, brothers, and even their sons. Jinshi discreetly looked at the crowd behind the carriage’s curtains, glancing at the faces of all those women. Perhaps he was wishing for her presence to bless him. Maybe he hoped to wave goodbye to her, to hear her voice in the crowd screaming his name and yearning for his safe return. He found the courage to chuckle amidst all these melancholy feelings, considering this an almost impossible scenario, knowing she wasn’t fond of such displays.

His lone wish was to be freely loved by the one he held dear in his heart. He often found himself wondering, was this too much to ask for? When deep down, he knew it was a foolish wish for him to have. After all, he was the Moon Prince; his status alone could never allow him to have that, not in this lifetime. His fingers released the curtain, and he clenched his fists. Gaoshun stared at him, knowing she was the one person in the entire world who could make him lose his composure. He recalled the moments when she was kidnapped by the Shi clan, shared a dance with Rikuson, and nearly fell from a tower while trying to save Lady Lishu — the list seemed endless. Yes he knew, Jinshi was thinking of her.

The mournful voices began to dissipate as they neared departure from the capital. Jinshi reminisced about every moment he spent with her; his heart felt warm as memories flowed through his head. He searched his robe for a medicine she had made for him, a pill that promotes sleep and relaxation. He looked at the miniature glass bottle in his right hand and smiled. He opened it, and Gaoshun immediately handed him a bottle full of water. He took one pill, swallowed it, and then took a second. Just as he was about to take a third, Gaoshun stopped him with a panicked look on his face. Jinshi nodded and put the pill back in the bottle.

He brought the bottle close to his heart and lay down. Gaoshun didn’t say a word aside from “Do you need anything, Sir Jinshi?” 

Keeping his eyes closed he replied “No”. Gaoshun nodded and closed his eyes, lost in his own thoughts.

Jinshi had never been fond of medicine due to numerous bad experiences—enduring murder attempts through poison and countless days of forced rest. However, this was different; it was a gift, at least in his eyes. A special one he cherished wholeheartedly. It was the last one he received from her. Simple medicine though it was, but to him it meant much more than that.

After ten minutes, the medicine took effect. He still held the bottle firmly. A tear escaped from his eye as he mumbled in his sleep, “I miss you.”

His soul now wandered in his most precious dreams—a place where he found comfort in her presence next to him.

[ender-cloud]

RACHEALLLLLLL!!

Tgs Spoilers under cut

She looks so… lost.

Also she’s holding a Hyacinth no? While she’s saying this, the flower in Greek mythology that Apollos love Hyacinthus turned into after he died. It was made in greif and a purple one in particular stands for seeking forgiveness.

“Do people ever turn into flowers, Jasper?” While holding a flower that the greek god Apollo turned his dead love into to immortalize him. The symbolism is beautiful, as it seems to represent the platonic love she had for hyde and her little brother, both of whom she has seemingly lost now, perhaps forever.

Things are falling apart, the lodgers are fighting and no one knows what to do, and behind the doors of Jekylls office Hyde is panicking as Jekyll leaves him.

Flowers symbolize many things, sometimes the meaning changes based on the color, the fact that she’s holding a flower that stands for regret dosent seem to be a coincidence.

She Regrets she didn’t see that Hyde and Jekyll were the same person sooner, she regrets that she can’t seem to be enough to make people happy without trying.

She seems to push people away on accident, smothering them so much they leave her, but all Racheal wants is to make them happy, too have her care for them and care for her in turn

It didn’t only Happen with Hyde, it also happened with Jasper, she smothered them and pushed them away but they still care for her, but she thinks she ruined it, this is the first time we’ve seen her and Jasper interact since the suit incident.

I hope she talks about her relationship with Jekyll aswell, she was close with both and now she knows that Jekyll has always been lying to her, saying Hyde is away, or just the biggest lie that they were the same person in general.

I need more of her thoughts on this, it’s such an interesting character who was friends with both. She has such an interesting perspective on it all and I feel like she has the most of the pain other than Jekyll and Hyde.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

The Palace

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Benedict makes Sophie’s first royal event one to remember.

Author’s Note: Happy Queen Charlotte release day! Here’s some smut to celebrate 😜 No spoilers for the show in this fic, just some royal-adjacent horny nonsense. This is also my belated birthday gift to @queen-of-the-misfit-toys Enjoy our boy and his talented hands, my dear 💙

Sophie needed a moment to breathe. Between the glare of the sun, the tightness of her stays and the dizzying array of new faces, her head was beginning to spin. Happily, the reception party was spread across both the gardens and two floors of St. James’s Palace, offering plenty of quiet corners where she could rest. Leaving Benedict in conversation with Anthony, she picked her way up to a room on the second floor. Despite its towering ceilings and the endless stretches of halls that winged away from its massive doors, the tapestries within made it feel marginally warmer than the throne and ballrooms below. A bouquet of purple blooms perched on a low table in front of the windows and she stood by it, trying to steady herself as she watched the members of court mingle in the gardens.

It was Hyacinth’s presentation day, but Benedict had wasted no opportunity to remind Sophie that it served as her presentation too. The first year of their marriage had been spent blissfully in the countryside but now she and the whole of the Bridgerton clan had agreed that it was time for her to appear in the London season. Everyone was well rehearsed in Sophie’s backstory if need be. The explanation that she was a distant cousin of the late Earl of Penwood had been carefully worded by Anthony and Violet. All members of the family were instructed to alert them if anyone probed too insistently. They all hoped it wouldn’t cause too much speculation for the second-born Bridgerton son to reemerge from a long absence with a wife in tow, but the ton were fickle and always desperate for gossip.

The morning ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Hyacinth had walked serenely to the Queen, though her family could tell she was fighting to suppress giggles the entire time. Sophie had managed to blend into the sea of ladies in ivory dresses with no one taking notice of her until the reception party began in the garden. Anthony had circled her like a hawk, glowering more than usual at each person she and Benedict spoke to and he only moved away when the attendees queued to greet the Queen. Sophie was buzzing with anxiety, her mind roaring as Benedict guided her forward and introduced her. Somehow she had remembered to curtsy properly and to smile. She had said something that made the Queen laugh but couldn’t remember what, then she had turned away, dazed. Benedict brought her back to herself with a tight squeeze of her hand and an encouraging smile before they separated to mingle.

Now the enormity of the day was weighing on her and Sophie needed this reprieve. How she found herself here, barely a year after selling her hair to a wigmaker and cleaning out chamberpots, was still a turn of events she couldn’t fully believe. As she leaned against the table and enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers, Benedict entered the room behind her. She knew it was him even before the press of warm lips against her neck. She could always sense when he was nearby, attuned to him like the change in pressure before a storm. Her skin would prickle and her mind would calm, steadied by the proximity of her anchor in this new life.

His hands banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulder. “What do you think, my love? Your first royal event.”

Sophie smiled, grateful for the familiar comfort of his arms. “It is breathtaking. I could never have dreamed I would find myself here. Introduced to the Queen of England. Do you think she believed our story? Do you think she knows I don’t really belong?”

Benedict gently turned her chin back to face him with a gloved hand. His brow was creased. “You do belong here. As much as anyone. You are my wife and the daughter of an Earl. I never want you doubting yourself.” His insistent tone reverberated into her back, leaving no space for her heart or mind to argue. “I think she believed us but even if she didn’t, she clearly doesn’t care. You fit in here. Somehow, you manage to fit perfectly everywhere.” The fingers on her chin moved to stroke her cheek. “In our little country cottage, or in these grand halls, looking like a veritable princess.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips and she sank against him, fighting the tears that his words stirred within her.

“I love you so much, Benedict,” she whispered. “You’ll never know how much.”

He tightened his hold, hands splaying across her ribs. “And I love you, darling. You are my entire heart. My whole world.” He paused and let his eyes stray across her decolletage, highly pronounced thanks to the incomparable structure of her court dress. “This may be the most striking dress I’ve ever seen you in. I can’t deny that it has sent my mind in all kinds of…enticing directions.”

The crooked grin that followed was a warning shot.

Sophie sighed, turning back to the windows. “Ben, we really can’t.”

“We won’t.” His mock indignation was completely undermined by the low pitch his voice sank into. His hands traced down to grasp her hips and he pressed himself firmly into her backside, pinning her between him and the table. His words ghosted warm next to her ear, a devastating purr. “We aren’t doing anything. We are just standing, a husband and wife, quietly taking in the view.” 

That’s when he pushed her hips forward ever so slightly, nearly imperceptible, but enough for her to realize that the table was at precisely the right height to strike her where sensation would bloom. She let out a small gasp.

Undeterred, Benedict continued. “We are surveying the grounds…” He nudged her against the table edge again. “The people.” Again.

Sophie took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her. Sometimes she wondered if she had married the devil himself. How dare he act so brazenly in public and in a royal palace no less? But she knew, of course, that it was precisely within Benedict Bridgerton’s nature to do such a thing. And God help her, it was one of the reasons she was so hopelessly in love with him. 

Perhaps they could do this undetected. The doors behind them were too heavy to close and they could be seen by anyone passing in the hall, but this corner of the upper floor seemed deserted. And if they were, as Benedict said, just a husband and wife standing by the window, rocking with such small movements, perhaps no one would know what was happening even if they were discovered. Benedict understood her body so well and was rubbing her into the table at such a precise angle, she knew she could finish quickly. A small burst of pleasure would no doubt help ease her nerves, which she surmised was part of his motivation.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. “They are stunning.”

“Yes, they are.” He rumbled low in her ear, his hands tight on her hips, guiding her back and forth, grinding her into the sloped angle of the wood. “The peacocks in particular are an excellent touch, are they not?” With that, he surged his hips into her and Sophie groaned quietly at the stiff length she felt pressing into the cleft of her bottom. 

“Yes…” She gasped, eyes fluttering closed as all her focus narrowed to the heat between her thighs and the crush of him behind her.

“Keep your eyes on everyone out there.” Benedict tutted and she obeyed, bracing herself with palms pressed into the tabletop and gaze locked on the oblivious crowds below. 

He had found a steady rhythm, pushing her forward with his body and hands, thrusting her against the table with small movements that sent spikes of desire shooting through her blood. Over and over with mechanical precision he maneuvered her in chasing pleasure, the slight quiver of the flowers beside them the only indicator to any passersby that something untoward was happening. 

Benedict’s tone was quiet but with an undeniably gruff edge. “I want you to remember this moment. That you are in a palace, looking down on all the ton. You are regal Sophie. You were so marvelous speaking to Her Majesty. I was so proud to show her that I had married the most gorgeous woman in England. A woman that far outshines any of her Diamonds. With more strength and fortitude than they could ever muster. She may be the Queen, but I am certainly the richer of us both.”

Sophie gripped the table and stared, entranced as Benedict set her body and mind alight. His potent blend of arousal and affirmation drilled home the truth of his words. She did belong. She was special. Powerful even. A Bridgerton with a handsome husband on her arm and a formidable family to support her. She wore the same fine fabrics as the ladies in the sunlit hedgerows below and had received the same invitation to be feted by the Queen herself. Sophie Beckett the maid was no longer. Sophia Bridgerton had taken her place and was being ravished in a palace above the heads of the ton by a man they all respected and desired.

When his mouth opened hot on her neck to graze it with his teeth Sophie moaned aloud, unable to restrain herself. He had worked her into a state, humming with arousal, her womanhood engorged and soaking. She was burning and lightheaded and knew that she had more than the strictures of her dress to blame. While his movements made the wave of lust swell within her body, his words made her longing for him swell within her heart. She needed his mouth on hers, his skin on hers. It was the only way she would crest the wave and in that moment, everything else could be damned.

“Ben,” She spun around to face him and crashed her mouth to his, drinking in the taste of him as she tugged off his gloves. He let her do as she wished, sliding his tongue to map the circumference of her lips as she pulled his hand up and under her skirt. Caged though her breasts and consequently her lungs may be, her lower undergarments were still easy to bypass and Sophie was aching for her husband’s fingers.

Benedict paused, face lighting with mischief as he gave her a lopsided smile. “Anyone could see us.” 

As if confirming her commitment to impropriety, Sophie smirked and hopped backward to sit on the table, wrapping her arms across his broad shoulders. “Good. Let them watch.”

With something like a snarl, his eyes darkened and he dipped his head to suck at the delicate skin beneath her ear. The hand under her skirt began to quest through the layers of fabric. “You hoping to make them jealous?”

“Yes,” She breathed, leaning her head back and reveling in the pattern he traced with his tongue.

“You want them all to see you getting finger fucked at their stuffy soiree?” His voice rumbled low in his chest as his fingers found her wet heat and brushed gently over her opening.

“Desperately,” She shuddered, breathing heavier as she shot another glance out the window. “I want them to know that I’m yours.”

With no preamble Benedict covered her throbbing center with the whole of his hand, cupping her possessively. He pulled back to meet her eyes. Gone was the sweet, gentle artist, replaced by an imposing seducer who looked about ready to devour her.

“This is mine is it then, darling?” He smiled wolfishly.

“Yes,” Sophie gaped, heart pounding. Only once she confirmed it did his hand start moving, fingers sliding through the slickness he had caused as his palm ground against her pubic bone, giving her the pressure she loved. 

He wrapped the fingers of his other hand gently around her neck. Not hard enough to restrict her breath, just enough to hold her in place. His thumb traced languidly over the ridges of her throat above the tiers of pearls that he had gifted her for the occasion.

“And those lips…” He bent and sucked on the lower one, nibbling it before pulling away. “They are mine?”

“Yes,” Sophie’s eyes closed, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. She was growing dizzy with the intensity of the moment. His dominating play made her giddy enough but to unleash it when they were in public and at risk of being caught…it made her lose her senses.

His hand beneath her skirts shifted, aligning the pad of his thumb on her swollen clit precisely where she had shown him she liked to be touched. Then he began rubbing in skillful circles. Two more fingers pressed inside her and slid firmly in and out, probing with clear intention. Sophie hissed, her stomach clenching like a fist, nails digging into his wrist. Her nerves began to sing, the wave rising under his ministrations. This was precisely what she needed.

Benedict trailed open-mouthed kisses over her exposed skin, licking along the neckline of her dress.

“The whole of this incredible woman. She is mine. And how she dazzles. In silks. In satins. In nothing at all. Am I not the luckiest man alive to be tasked with serving her? Pleasuring her.”  

His voice was dusky against her flesh and punctuated by her moan when he bit lightly into the swell of her breast. His long fingers continued to tease and swirl, pumping into her and coaxing her to release. Sophie felt her nipples harden as her body relented, lost to any way he wanted to command it, trusting him to bring her to heights she could never accomplish herself. She hooked her ankles around the back of his calves, pulling him closer between her thighs, needing the heat of him to mingle with the one he stoked in her. Clutching one another, they were nearly inert save for the talented movements of Benedict’s hand beneath her skirts. The only sounds in the room were the light rustle of fabric and Sophie’s small, pleasured breaths. 

Sophie clung to his wrist, the pounding blood in her ears drowning out every sense but touch. The expert flick of his thumb against her nerves that caused her stomach to knot delightfully. The glide of his reach inside her, petting the spots that made her clench and evoking memories of his cock and its steady pace that ratcheted her to delirium. All of it heightened by his hold on her neck, the ownership he claimed over the fluttering breaths he was forcing out of her. In these moments her body was his, because she knew that his heart would always be hers.

Benedict marveled at the beauty of his wife lost in the throes of pleasure, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes hazy, fingers flexing each time he pressed against her sweetest spot, right under her clitoral hood. He reveled in her flushed skin and needy noises, the bobbing of her throat beneath his fingers. He would never tire of making her feel this way. In fact, he longed to draw it out, leave her breathless and screaming for release, soaking his hand as he made her come over and over until her knees faltered. But they didn’t have the luxury of time. So he focused his movements, small but incendiary, on the most sensitive parts of her. He grinned, noting how her hips had started to rock, pushing herself down onto his fingers as much as he was pushing up into her. He leaned to her ear and whispered. 

“That’s it. You’re beautiful, so beautiful my love.” His lips returned to her neck, nibbling around the elaborate necklace, his breath gusting hot across her skin. “I love to see you choked with my pearls.”

Her whole body stiffened, his words driving her higher. “I prefer your hands.” She rasped, managing to arch a coquettish brow. 

The responding gleam in his steely eyes was precisely what she had been hoping for. Spurred on, Benedict tightened his grip, starting to slightly constrict her windpipe as his fingers increased their speed and pressure, pounding into her and teasing her nub viciously.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.” He growled. “You are radiant with all manner of things around your neck.” He sucked at her collarbone before moving back to her lips, kissing her between each honeyed word of praise. “Priceless. My wife. My queen.”

Sophie could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his fingers was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her. She knew she was approaching the end. 

“Don’t…be treasonous…”

He chuckled darkly. “I can revere whomever I want to behind closed doors. Would you want that? For me to kneel before you tonight?”

Sophie’s eyes blazed, enticed by his offer. They had played that way before, Benedict submitting to her wishes, and it always set a fire in her belly. She envisioned him naked, kneeling before her on the floor of their bedroom, skin glowing in firelight that etched the outlines of his muscles and betrayed the leaking of his eager cock. She could hook her leg over his shoulder and command him to feast upon her until neither of them could breathe. She could sink her hands into the waves of his dark hair and press him into her body, riding him mercilessly to her bliss. 

It was this imagery that caused her to break, thighs quaking as she bucked against him. Benedict could feel her quiver inside. Throwing her head back, she started to moan his name but he cut her off quickly with a gentle squeeze of her throat.

“Shhh. Don’t scream my name or you’ll give us away.” His eyes were hungry as he continued rubbing her furiously, rocking his hand in and out of her. “Just come for me.” 

He felt her hold her breath, then the rippling spasms started to dance down the length of his fingers. She froze, rigid, gripping onto his wrist for dear life. 

“That’s it. Come all over my hand.” He goaded through gritted teeth. “Then we’re going to walk out of here as if you aren’t drenched.”

He coaxed more out of her, slowing and curling his strokes as the pulsing continued, fanning out through her body, causing her to jerk. Sophie’s mind floated as the wave washed over her, its epicenter under his fingertips.

Benedict released her throat and held her close in the breathless moments as she shuddered with aftershocks. He withdrew his other hand and Sophie opened her eyes to find him sucking decadently at his fingers, relishing her taste. Lightheaded, she gently palmed the prominent tent in his breeches.

“What about you?”

Benedict smirked. “If etiquette didn’t require me to be in breeches and hose, maybe. But I’ll show you when we get home what an ordeal they are to remove. Let’s just wait a moment, my love. I will be fine.”

She laughed, the room beginning to orient itself around her again, gravity falling back into place.

“Perhaps the dress code was established for precisely that reason.”

—

An hour later at the close of the reception, Benedict and Sophie were turning to walk out through the gardens when they halted at the sight of the Queen approaching, closely followed by her man Brimsley. Sophie’s mind began to whir. She had been so blissful in the wake of their rendezvous that guilt had not settled on her thoughts as it perhaps should have. But now, reminded of precisely whose home she had defiled, she was filled with shame and could only pray that Her Majesty didn’t know the scandalous truth.

Queen Charlotte strode to them directly and they stepped apart, inclining their heads as they bowed and curtsied deeply.

The Queen fixed her eyes on Benedict. “Mr. Bridgerton. So glad you could join us when I have seen you at so few of my events.” She pursed her lips. “Though, I’m sure you are busy with your work. My nephew Friedrich has commissioned you for his official portrait, has he not?”

A bit stunned, Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has, your Majesty. An honor that I gladly accepted.”

“Very good. I’ll wait for his assessment and then see if we cannot use another portraitist for my family.” Her eyes scanned him up and down, scrutinizing though he was not sure for what. With the quirk of a smile, she continued. “We are always looking for those with creativity and…discretion.”

Gobsmacked, Benedict’s face lit up as he bowed again. “Your Majesty.”

Before she departed, the Queen pivoted to Sophie with the same small, enigmatic smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Sophie nearly stumbled in her rush to curtsy again, overwhelmed by the entire exchange. Rising, she saw the Queen was gone but Brimsley had lingered and was staring at her pointedly. With a quick gesture he motioned toward her neckline. To her horror, she looked down to see bruising teeth marks on her breast peeking just above her bodice. She scrambled to conceal it and looked back at the Queen’s Man, blushing crimson. She did not know whether to feel relief or mortification as he shot her a wry smile, winked, then turned and caught up to the Queen, five paces behind as always.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Congratulations to the Sage, who made it to the next round!

The identity of the bouquet of purple hyacinth, hydrangea, acanthus and purple columbine is...

Kim Secretan from Will Darling Adventures by KJ Charles!

Round 2; A bouquet of purple hyacinth, hydrangea, acanthus and purple columbine Vs Sage

First let's talk about the bouquet of purple hyacinth, hydrangea, acanthus and purple columbine

Meaning: Purple Hyacinth for sorrow and the begging of forgiveness, Hydrangea for the gratitude of being understood by his romantic interest, Acanthus for being a lying liar who lies, Purple Columbine for resolution and seeing things through no matter what the cost Description: The black sheep of an aristocratic family with a deep distaste for his background (for really good reasons). He's considered a class traitor by his social strata and...well, he is. Sort of. A bit of a mess from poor decisions he's made in the past and the consequences of those decisions, duplicitous almost by nature but REALLY trying to do the right thing and atone for the hurts he thinks he's caused.

Check his post here

Now let's talk about the Sage

Meaning and why it was chosen: it represents 'immortality and wisdom' which is accurate i guess (the immortality more so than the wisdom) Description: – everyone's favourite transbian communist fae – repressing their emotions for their royal image – banned themself from legally practicing magic but still practices magic – lies about their age to impress people

Check their post here

[dessicus]

just finished binging the entire The Guy Upstairs webtoon. i genuinely think this is in my top 3 favorite webtoons ive ever read, right behind Purple Hyacinth and Schoolbus Graveyard.

one thing i feel like i care about in a story more than the average person is how well the author covers plot holes and keeps the story watertight, and i think this webtoon does that really well. throughout reading the story, whenever i start thinking about how a situation could have been prevented, i find myself realising that realistically, it kind of couldnt have? like there isnt a single character in the story who does anything really stupid or out of character to force the plot forwards in any way, and i really like that.

*SPOILER ALERT FOR EP 41 OF THE WEBTOON*

at this point in the story, hawa is pretty weirded out by how rozy really doesnt want her to be in a relationship with adam, and yet she STILL remembers and takes into account rozy’s advice telling her not to be alone with adam.

i love that.

in a lesser story, hawa at this point would already have forgotten rozy’s advice and be head over heels for adam to increase the drama in this story.

and yet, the author of this story knows theyre writing 3-dimensional characters and doesnt just make hawa throw aside a years long friendship for a month long relationship.

in the end the advice doesnt really end up mattering cus adam manages to convince hawa to stay anyways, but thats fine cus its also realistic that she’d fall for his pressuring and for me its the fact that hawa even thought of the advice that counts.

also, MALAYSIA REPRESENTATION RAAAAAHHHHH 🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾🇲🇾WHAT IS A STABLE POLITICAL PARTY 🐅🐅🐅🐅🐅🐅🐅🐅

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

PROPAGANDA UNDER THE CUT: [SPOILERS AHEAD]

RICK SHADES:

KIERAN WHITE:

[madi-konrad]

My book's cover art: Flowers!

So, I am still incredibly ecstatic about the cover art I was able to commission from @queenzora for my book, A Demon's Name Upon Your Lips (see my pinned post for links to buy!).

But what might not be immediately obvious is that I worked with her to choose which flowers would appear around the border, using an online almanac (this one in fact) to pick which ones would appear. I thought it was appropriate, as the book takes place in a secondary world loosely inspired by the British Victorian era.

I thought it might be neat to share why we picked these particular flowers! (and, do note, we worked with easily found information, as I am certainly not an expert in Victorian-era flower symbolism!)

We made them in three batches; each side reflects the characterization and journey of their respective characters, and the center (top and bottom) features flowers that represent their relationship as it develops.

(I'll keep detailed spoilers out of the following explanation with only a few vague allusions to events that happen in the novel, but those who want to go in completely unspoilered should give this a miss.)

Explanations beneath the break:

First, on Talia's side (left):

Amaryllis (amaryllis belladonna). This stands for Pride, which is, to put it lightly, one of Talia's defining characteristics.

Black Eyed Susan (Rudbeckia Hirta). This stands for Justice. Talia is, of course, on the warpath to avenge the death of her father on those who conspired to frame him sixteen years ago.

Butterfly Weed (Asclepias Tuberosa). "Let me go." This one is hard to talk about without getting into spoilers, but is a defining moment in Talia's character arc.

Yellow Carnation (Dianthus Caryophyllus). Carnations can have several meanings, but the yellow in particular stands for rejection, disdain and disappointment -- another defining moment in Talia's romantic arc with Lucia.

Second, on Lucia's side (right):

Purple Hyacinth (Hyacinthus genus). The purple stands for sorrow. This is in direct response to Talia's Yellow Carnation.

Dark Crimson Rose (Rosa genus). This one complements and strengthens the meaning of the Purple Hyacinth, as the dark crimson variant in particular stands for mourning.

Yellow Carnation (Dianthus Caryophyllus). Again, mirroring Talia's own. Geez, it's hard to talk about these without getting into spoilers!

Red Camellia (Camellia genus). "You're a flame in my heart." Finally, something positive! Lucia definitely yearns for Talia with a fiery passion.

Finally, in the center arch (and center-bottom for the carnations):

Iris (Iris genus). This stands for faith, trust, wisdom, hope and valor. All of these are qualities (well, less so for wisdom perhaps…) both Talia and Lucia need to develop in order for their relationship to survive.

Yellow Lily (Lilium genus). Yeah, I just picked this one 'cause it's Gay. These bitches gay! (Gay as in happy? No, gay as in gay).

Lesbian-colored Carnations (Dianthus Caryophyllus). In general, without getting into specific colors, Carnations stand for female love (in addition to fascination, which is definitely going on too -- and Mother's love which is… not). We decided to underline the WLW of it all by casting this one in the colors of the Lesbian flag!

[frogcries]

Fanart for Chapter 17 of The (not so) perfect pair by @silawastaken ! i actually had a lot of fun drawing this but also sad because i made dazai sad😔

Here’s some artist notes!!

This has dark shading on the entire thing but no light shading…also this is more to be symbolic than actually drawing a specific scene so I hope its not too spoiler-y to anyone who hasn’t read chapter 17…though it is based off a scene in the chapter so😭

Each thing(other than the flower) symbolizes a character! the plushies are meant to resemble Elise and the ring Ango.

Can you tell I never draw flowers😭, they are supposed to be purple hyacinths due to what they mean but also i have zero knowledge on flower language so if i got it wrong blame Google

I also never drew graves before i hope its not too bad🙏🏾

GO READ THE FIC TO ANYONE WHO HASNT ITS AWESOME