#sophia reads a turn of the earth

[youaresimplylovely]

“Fast and Fabulous: A Driven Love” 

---- A love story between a Formula 1 Driver and a Supermodel

Chapter 1 (Next Chapter) Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Pairing: Carlos Sainz!Formula 1 Driver x Famous Supermodel!Reader

Words: 562 words

Warnings: First time writing so if there are any errors, feel free to say so!! :>> nevertheless no warnings on this first chapter

Somehow proofread :')

Summary: Getting to know the Dela Cruz family

Lights flickered across the room, and a young man's voice was heard across the room. A loud groan escaped his voice. Sighing softly, the man approached the light switch, turning it off. "I thought Dad was supposed to fix this," he mumbled, going to another room with better lighting. He grabbed the scattered papers on the kitchen counter, fixing the order of the documents. He sat on the dining table chairs with the papers in his hand. 

"Ahem." he cleared his throat, sighing but not too loud. He stared at the first page of the papers in his hand as he started reading. “Y/N Claire Rose Althea Sophia Amélie Genevieve Katherine Dela Cruz.” He smiled softly. "Not including her mother's last name." He snickered, scratching his back with his hand. He continues reading the paper in his hand. "Where were we? Ah yes, Y/N Claire Rose Althea Sophia Amélie Genevieve Katherine Dela Cruz.” He reiterated the woman's name. "Such a long dang name." He rolled his eyes, baffled that the woman's name was long. 

"Y/N is a famous supermodel, considered one of the most beautiful women. She is part American, part French, part Spanish, and part Filipino." The young man ran his hands through his hair, scrunching his nose. "Who knew that combining Asian genes with American and European ones would make 'the most beautiful woman.'" He gestured with air quotes and sarcasm in his tone. "The woman came from the renowned 'Dela Cruz' family. A prominent family, the father being Jean Louis Dela Cruz, A man who is half American and half French; you could say he's part Spanish, too. Hence, the last name 'Dela Cruz.'"

The young man pouted, thinking how a half-American and half-French man could have his last name be 'Dela Cruz' on Earth. He shakes his head, shaking the thought off as he continues reading. "The man married a famous beauty queen from the Philippines, Maria Lucia Garcia, a woman who is half Filipino and half Spanish." The young man groaned, scrunching his whole face now. He thought to himself, how can this family be so confusing. "Esto no puede ser real (This can not be real)," he muttered in his weird but manageable Spanish accent.

"The two fell in love and had 5 beautiful children. The first child was Mark Cedric Dela Cruz, the second was James Diego Dela Cruz, Daniel Ezekiel Dela Cruz, and the fourth was Y/N Claire Rose Althea Sophia Amélie Genevieve Katherine Dela Cruz." He groans, rolling his eyes and causing him to laugh. "The woman's name is so long 'cause she's the only girl and definitely a daddy's girl." He chuckles, sighing as he lays back against the chair. “And the last child, Paolo Gabriel Dela Cruz a.k.a ‘Pao’.” 

Before the young man could continue, footsteps approaching the kitchen were heard. A woman snickered, sitting next to the young man. She gave him a weird look, scrunching her face. “¿Qué diablos estás haciendo pao? (What the hell are you doing, Pao?)" you laughed, nudging his shoulder as you sat beside him. Your beautiful Spanish accent causes your brother to smile softly. "Um, excuse me, Y/N. This is a school project; I had to do a family background." Pao rolled his eyes at you, giving you a playful, disgusted look. "I didn't know college students' homework was like that nowadays." You giggled.

[muiitoloko]

Lessons in Love

Summary: In the heart of a strict father, love finds a way to soften the edges, as Turpin learns that sometimes, giving in is the greatest strength.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none.

Author's Notes: Since you all kept asking for more Turpin, I did some digging through my drafts and found this little gem—a lost scene from my "Love?" series. So, I figured, why not share it with you all? Enjoy! 😄

Also read on Ao3

Turpin sat back in the plush chair of the opulent clothing store, his patience wearing thin as he waited for you and the twins to emerge from the dressing room. His hooked nose twitched with irritation, his baritone voice barely concealing his growing displeasure as he muttered under his breath, "How much longer must I endure this nonsense?" He hated being kept waiting, especially in a setting that offered little in the way of entertainment or distraction. His mind wandered to William, who was dutifully attending school, and he couldn’t help but think that the boy was likely better occupied than he was at this moment.

When you had suggested taking the girls to buy new dresses, Turpin had insisted on accompanying you. He couldn't fathom allowing his daughters out of his sight, not even for something as trivial as shopping. He prided himself on being a vigilant father, though his version of vigilance often bordered on suffocating control. As the minutes dragged on, his irritation grew. The thought of you allowing the girls to make their own choices without his oversight grated on him. He trusted his own judgment far more than yours when it came to matters of appearance and propriety.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the twins emerged from the dressing room, their faces glowing with excitement as they twirled to show off their new dresses. Belladonna, ever the bolder of the two, was clad in a bright yellow dress, her dark curls bouncing as she spun around. Sophia, her quieter sister, wore a deep purple gown that complemented her more reserved demeanor. The two girls, identical in every way save for the colors they had chosen, beamed up at their father, eager for his approval.

Turpin's expression darkened as he took in their attire. His eyes narrowed in disapproval, and his hooked nose twitched with disdain. "What on earth are you two wearing?" he demanded, his baritone voice cutting through the girls' excitement like a knife. He rose from his seat, towering over his daughters as he scrutinized their dresses with a critical eye.

Belladonna’s smile faltered, her confidence wavering under her father’s harsh gaze. "Father, we chose these ourselves. Don’t you think they look lovely?" she ventured, her voice trembling slightly as she sought his approval.

Turpin’s gaze moved from Belladonna’s yellow dress to Sophia’s purple gown, his disapproval growing with each passing second. "Lovely? These colors are garish, utterly inappropriate for young ladies of your station," he snapped, his voice dripping with contempt. "Yellow is a color for commoners, not for my daughter. And purple—" he paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Sophia, "—is far too bold for a girl of your temperament. It makes you look like you’re trying to draw attention to yourself, which is unseemly."

Sophia shrank back slightly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at her dress. Belladonna, always more defiant, opened her mouth to argue, but a single glare from Turpin silenced her. He turned his attention to you, his expression cold and accusing. "How could you allow them to choose such colors? Have you no sense of propriety?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

You bristled at his tone, but years of living under Turpin's rule had taught you to choose your battles carefully. "Richard," you began cautiously, trying to keep your voice calm, "the girls wanted to choose their own dresses. They’re growing up, and I thought it might be good for them to have a say in what they wear."

"Growing up does not mean they can flout the rules of decency and proper conduct," Turpin snapped, his anger barely contained. "They are my daughters, and they will dress as befits their station. I will not have them parading around like… like common whores!" His voice rose with his fury, the harsh words causing both girls to flinch.

"Father, we didn’t mean to—" Sophia began, but Turpin cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand.

"Silence!" he barked, his eyes blazing with anger. "You will both return to the dressing room immediately and change into something appropriate. Something befitting young ladies of noble birth. And you," he turned to you, his voice dripping with icy disdain, "will ensure that they make better choices this time."

Sophia and Belladonna hurried back to the dressing room, their heads bowed in shame. You watched them go, your heart aching for your daughters, but you knew better than to challenge Turpin in his current state. His temper was a fearsome thing, and you had no desire to provoke it further.

Turpin’s gaze followed the girls as they disappeared into the dressing room, his expression softening slightly once they were out of sight. He turned back to you, his tone slightly less harsh but still firm. "I will not tolerate such defiance in my own household," he said quietly, his eyes boring into yours. "They must learn that their choices have consequences. And you, my dear, must learn to guide them properly, or else I will have to take matters into my own hands."

You nodded quietly, understanding that any argument would only make things worse. Turpin was a man who prized control above all else, and any challenge to that control was met with swift and harsh consequences. With that in mind, you headed to the dressing room to assist the girls.

After what felt like an eternity, the twins emerged from the dressing room once more, this time dressed in more subdued colors—Belladonna in a soft blue dress and Sophia in a pale pink gown. Both girls looked subdued, their earlier excitement now replaced with a quiet resignation.

Turpin surveyed them with a critical eye, his expression finally softening as he gave a curt nod of approval. "Much better," he said, his tone still firm but no longer angry. "Now you look like proper young ladies."

He waved the girls off with a stern gesture, signaling for them to return to the dressing room and change. The twins, their heads bowed in disappointment, obediently made their way back, the excitement of their shopping trip thoroughly dampened by their father's harsh rebuke. As they disappeared behind the heavy velvet curtain, you couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow for your daughters. They were still children, after all, and deserved some joy in their lives, even if it came in the form of brightly colored dresses.

Turpin, meanwhile, approached the payment counter with his usual commanding presence, leaning heavily on his cane as he did so. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small bag of coins, ready to settle the bill for the more "appropriate" dresses he had approved. The shopkeeper, sensing the former judge’s impatience, quickly calculated the total and awaited Turpin’s payment, his hands slightly trembling under the weight of the former judge's piercing gaze.

You, unable to bear the sight of your daughters’ crushed spirits, slowly approached your husband. As you reached his side, you gently placed a hand on his arm, your touch soft and imploring. Turpin, in the middle of counting out the coins, paused momentarily at your unexpected closeness. He turned slightly to face you, his stern expression softening just a fraction as he met your gaze.

"Richard," you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Please, let them keep the dresses they chose. They are still children, and they deserve to have something that brings them joy, something that makes them happy."

Turpin’s expression flickered with irritation, a frown creasing his brow as he listened to your plea. His hooked nose twitched slightly, a telltale sign of his displeasure. "Those dresses are not suitable," he muttered, his baritone voice gruff and low, meant only for you to hear. "They are unbecoming for girls of their station. I will not have them traipsing around like commoners."

You tightened your grip on his arm, your fingers gently squeezing as you pressed on, undeterred by his initial resistance. "Richard, please," you whispered again, this time letting your fingers drift to his chest, your touch light and persuasive. "It would mean so much to them. They only want a little bit of happiness, something to call their own. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to indulge them just this once?"

Turpin’s stern gaze softened further as he felt the warmth of your touch, the gentle pressure of your fingers against his chest stirring something deep within him. He tried to maintain his resolve, to keep his demeanor firm and unyielding, but it was a losing battle. You had always had a way of softening his rough edges, of coaxing him into doing things he would otherwise never consider. It was maddening to him, how easily you could sway his will with just a few whispered words and a gentle touch.

He let out a slow, frustrated breath, his eyes closing briefly as he leaned in closer to you, his face just inches from yours. The feel of your breath against his skin sent a shiver down his spine, and despite himself, he found his resolve crumbling. "You are insufferable," he murmured, his tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection. "Always pushing, always insisting. You know I cannot deny you anything, even when I should."

You smiled softly, sensing his surrender, and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Richard," you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin, leaving a warmth in their wake. "I knew you would understand."

Turpin opened his eyes, his gaze flickering with a mixture of irritation and adoration as he looked at you. "You try my patience, woman," he grumbled, though there was no real anger in his voice, only a grudging acceptance. He turned back to the shopkeeper, who had been studiously pretending not to eavesdrop, and gave a curt nod. "Pack up those other dresses as well," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "The ones my daughters originally chose. They will have them, but only for special occasions. Understood?"

The shopkeeper, relieved to avoid Turpin’s wrath, nodded eagerly and quickly set about gathering the garments. As Turpin finished paying, he cast one last glance at you, his expression a mix of resignation and something deeper, something softer that he rarely allowed himself to show.

"You spoil them too much," he muttered as he handed over the coins, though the edge in his voice had dulled, replaced by a tired kind of affection. "But if it makes you happy, then so be it."

You smiled warmly at him, your heart swelling with love for the man who, despite his harsh exterior, always found a way to bend to your wishes when it truly mattered. "It makes them happy too, Richard," you replied gently, your hand still resting on his arm. "And that is worth more than anything."

Turpin grunted in response, clearly not entirely pleased but unwilling to argue further. He turned his attention back to the task at hand, ensuring the shopkeeper handled the dresses with care, while you watched him with a quiet sense of satisfaction. He might have been a stern and often cruel man, but beneath it all, you knew there was a heart that, when pushed just right, could be as tender as it was fierce.

And as you both waited for the girls to return, their spirits undoubtedly lifted by your success in securing their beloved dresses, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the life you had carved out with this complex, difficult man. Turpin might have been many things, but he was also yours, and for that, you were thankful.

As the door of the clothing store closed behind you, the cool evening air greeted your small party, a welcome contrast to the warm confines of the shop. Turpin, his stern expression back in place, took the lead as you walked down the cobblestone street. His cane tapped rhythmically against the ground with each step, a steady reminder of his presence. Sophia, ever the dutiful daughter, immediately moved to her father's side, slipping her small hand into his without a word. Her pale green gown, now hidden beneath her cloak, still peeked out occasionally as she walked with delicate, precise steps, mimicking her father’s measured pace.

Belladonna, on the other hand, lingered behind with you, her mood noticeably darker. She refused to even glance in Turpin’s direction, her lips pressed into a firm, stubborn line as she clutched your hand tightly. The vibrant blue dress she had reluctantly agreed to wear seemed to weigh on her, and she walked with a sulky defiance that was impossible to miss.

You carried the bags containing the girls' new dresses in your free hand, the weight of them hardly registering against the heavier burden of the tension that still hung in the air. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice Belladonna’s continued silence, a rare occurrence for your usually outspoken daughter. Glancing down at her, you finally decided to break the silence.

“What’s the matter, my love?” you asked gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the store.”

Belladonna’s lips pursed even tighter, and for a moment, it seemed as though she wouldn’t answer. But then, with a stubborn tilt of her chin that reminded you so much of her father, she finally spoke, her voice filled with the kind of indignation that only a child can muster. “Father was mean and rude,” she declared, her voice trembling with emotion. “He doesn’t like our dresses, and he made us change. I don’t want to talk to him anymore. He’s awful.”

You sighed softly, understanding her hurt but knowing that this was a matter that needed to be addressed. Belladonna had always been strong-willed, a trait she had undoubtedly inherited from her father, but it was important to teach her the value of forgiveness and understanding. “Belladonna, your father isn’t mean or rude just for the sake of it,” you explained gently, choosing your words carefully. “He’s strict because he cares about you and your sister. He wants the best for both of you, even if it doesn’t always feel that way.”

Belladonna, however, was not so easily swayed. She snorted derisively, a sound so reminiscent of Turpin in one of his more irritable moods that it startled you. “No, he’s just mean,” she insisted, her voice rising slightly in her frustration. “He doesn’t care if we’re happy. He only cares about what he wants. I won’t talk to him anymore. And neither should Sophia!”

The mention of her sister’s name drew a glance from Sophia, who was still walking beside Turpin. She looked back at you and Belladonna, her eyes wide with concern, clearly torn between her loyalty to her sister and her desire to stay close to her father. Turpin, who had been silently leading the way, stopped in his tracks, sensing the tension between his daughters. He turned slightly, his sharp eyes catching Belladonna’s defiant expression as she stuck her tongue out at him, a small act of rebellion that seemed to echo louder in the stillness of the evening.

For a moment, Turpin’s face hardened, the familiar stern lines etching themselves deeper as he regarded his daughter with a look that could have frozen the warmest heart. But then, something softened in his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty, as if he was unsure how to proceed. He was a man accustomed to wielding authority, to commanding respect through fear and discipline. But here, standing in the middle of a quiet street with his family, he found himself facing a challenge of a different sort—one that required a gentleness he had long forgotten how to express.

“Belladonna,” he began, his voice low and measured, though there was a hint of strain beneath the calm exterior. “You may not understand it now, but everything I do is for you and your sister. I do not wish to be harsh, but there are expectations—standards—that must be upheld. You will thank me one day for teaching you these things, even if you cannot see it now.”

Belladonna remained silent, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the ground, refusing to meet her father’s eyes. The hurt and anger in her small frame were palpable, and Turpin, for all his attempts at maintaining control, felt a pang of something he rarely acknowledged—regret.

You watched the exchange with a heavy heart, knowing that this was a moment that could define Belladonna’s relationship with her father for years to come. Gently, you knelt beside your daughter, placing the bags on the ground and taking both of her hands in yours.

“Belladonna, your father isn’t perfect,” you said softly, your voice filled with a warmth that you hoped would reach her. “He makes mistakes, just like we all do. But he loves you, more than anything in this world. And I know it would break his heart if you stopped talking to him.”

For a moment, Belladonna hesitated, her small face a mixture of emotions. She glanced up at you, then at her father, who was watching her with a rare vulnerability in his eyes. Finally, she huffed in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture so much like Turpin’s that it brought a small, bittersweet smile to your lips.

“He’s still mean,” she muttered, though the edge had softened in her voice. “But I suppose… I suppose I’ll talk to him again. But only if he promises not to be so bossy!”

Turpin, hearing this, raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought to suppress a smile. “Is that so, young lady?” he asked, his tone just a shade lighter than before. “Well, I cannot promise to stop being ‘bossy,’ as you say, but I will try to listen to you more. And perhaps,” he added, glancing at you with a resigned sigh, “I will not be so quick to dismiss your choices in the future.”

Belladonna studied her father for a long moment, as if weighing the sincerity of his words. Finally, she nodded, her small face softening as she uncrossed her arms. “Alright,” she said grudgingly, though there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “But you have to say sorry.”

Turpin stiffened slightly, the word “sorry” not one that often passed his lips. But as he looked at his daughter, her wide, expectant eyes fixed on him, he felt the weight of his pride shift under the far greater weight of his love for her.

“Very well,” he said at last, his voice steady, though there was a touch of warmth that had been absent before. “I apologize, Belladonna. I was too harsh, and I should not have dismissed your feelings so readily. I hope you can forgive me.”

Belladonna's face lit up with a triumphant smile as her earlier defiance melted away. She stepped forward boldly, pointing a small finger at her father, her expression suddenly serious. "Father," she began with a tone far too commanding for a girl her age, "since you were so rude to me and Sophia, I think you owe us something. I demand you buy us ice cream as a reward for putting up with your behavior!"

Turpin blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by his daughter's audacity. His hooked nose twitched as he processed her words, his stern demeanor faltering for just a moment. "Why, you demanding little scoundrel!" he exclaimed, his baritone voice rising in mock outrage. But even as the words left his mouth, the corners of his lips curled into an amused smile. He sighed deeply, shaking his head with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "Very well, Belladonna. You and your sister shall have your ice cream."

Belladonna beamed with delight, her earlier scowl replaced by a look of pure joy. She grabbed Sophia's hand, and the two girls screamed happily at the prospect of ice cream, their faces alight with excitement. Without waiting for another word, they turned and bolted down the cobblestone street towards the ice cream shop they had passed earlier, their laughter echoing in the evening air.

"Don't run!" Turpin shouted after them, his voice filled with the gruff authority that came so naturally to him. But the twins paid him no heed, their small figures disappearing around the corner, giggles trailing behind them.

You couldn't help but laugh softly at the scene, the sound of your daughters' happiness lifting your spirits. You reached for your husband's arm, sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow, and began walking slowly in the direction of the ice cream shop, ignoring the curious glances from passersby. Turpin’s demeanor softened as you did so, and he leaned into your touch, his stern mask slipping just a little in your presence.

"Who does that girl take after to be so demanding and defiant?" Turpin grumbled, though there was no real anger in his voice, only a touch of bewildered affection.

You refrained from rolling your eyes, though the urge was strong. Instead, you replied with a teasing smile, "Who indeed, Richard? Perhaps she has inherited a certain someone’s determination and strong will. It must run in the family, after all."

Turpin huffed, not entirely missing the subtle jab in your words, but before he could retort, a sudden cough wracked his body, cutting off his reply. The sound was harsh and wet, echoing uncomfortably in the stillness of the evening.

Immediately, your amusement vanished, replaced by concern as you tightened your grip on his arm. "Richard, are you alright?" you asked, your voice soft but urgent as you turned to face him, your eyes scanning his features for any sign of distress.

Turpin waved a hand dismissively, trying to downplay the severity of the cough, but the strained look in his eyes betrayed him. "I’m fine," he muttered, his voice slightly hoarse. "Just a tickle in my throat, nothing more."

You weren’t convinced, but you knew better than to press the issue in public. Instead, you slowed your pace, guiding him towards a nearby bench where he could sit and catch his breath. "Let’s rest for a moment," you suggested gently, your hand still on his arm as you led him to the bench. "The girls can wait a bit longer for their ice cream."

Turpin, though clearly reluctant to show any sign of weakness, allowed himself to be led to the bench. He sat down heavily, leaning on his cane for support as he took a few deep breaths, his eyes closing briefly as he fought to regain his composure. You stood by his side, your hand resting on his shoulder, offering silent comfort as he recovered.

After a moment, Turpin opened his eyes, the tension in his posture easing slightly as he looked up at you. "You worry too much," he murmured, his tone softening as he reached up to cover your hand with his. "I’m not as fragile as you think, my love."

You smiled down at him, though the worry in your eyes remained. "Perhaps not," you conceded quietly, "but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop worrying about you. You’re too important to me, Richard. To all of us."

Turpin’s expression softened further at your words, and he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a rare display of tenderness. "And you, my dear, are far too good to me," he murmured, his baritone voice tinged with affection.

For a brief moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the world lifting just a little as you took comfort in each other’s presence. The evening air was cool, but the warmth between you was enough to keep the chill at bay. Eventually, Turpin straightened, his usual stern demeanor slipping back into place as he prepared to rise.

"Come," he said, his voice regaining its usual strength. "We shouldn’t keep the girls waiting too long. They’ll be expecting their ice cream, and I’ve no doubt Belladonna will have more demands ready if we tarry."

You laughed softly, helping him to his feet as you continued your walk toward the ice cream shop. As you strolled arm in arm down the cobblestone street, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Life with Richard Turpin was never easy, but it was moments like these—when the walls came down, and the love you shared was laid bare—that made it all worthwhile.

[thedragonchilde]

Going back and making notes for the first dozen episodes, since I downloaded the series! Here I have 1-6

"Gundam Fight Begins! The Gundam That Fell to Earth"

-some prime worldbuilding opportunities already!

-Domon’s first smile of the series is toward a child :)

-I wish we'd gotten more of Rain’s gadgets

-if these kids lost their parents in the last Gundam Fight, Sophia would've had to be just a baby. These boys raised a baby!

-we never get more on how the KoH title (and by extension the rest of the Shuffle Alliance) is actually known to belong to an elite fighter

-it's a shame that Michelo is such a hate sink because he's regrettably quite fashionable

"Roar of the Winning Punch"

-second episode, second instance of Domon in a bar. Is that whiskey?

-when the hell did he have time for 100 bouts? Even if you fudged his age, that doesn't make sense. They have to be counting practice or something

-Chibodee does NOT take embarrassment well

-and this is why they're rivals - that was a solid punch!

-ah, the shady government officials, who assassinate rival fighters and… hypnotize/brainwash people?

-little Chibodee!

-why is Mount Rushmore on the colony?

-the phallic sword positioning makes its debut

-”we'll eliminate you as well!” Damn, okay

-how can she know what Domon's suit-up sequence looks like and call Chibodee the showoff

-“Oh yeah”

-”why don't you just finish me off/I bet you pity me/my dream is now over” shit, the “Star of Hope” isn't very optimistic, though I guess that appellation was given to him to live up to rather than him choosing it

-he doesn't get why the crowd is encouraging him, let alone Domon. Oh honey

-”you're one of the good guys” hee :)

"Beat the Dragon Gundam"

-Sai, why are you sleeping in the road

-you little shit

-lol Chinese Gundams and water

-there's a lot of moving parts in this plot so I feel like I don't have much to say

-besides various versions of “you little shit”

-a draw! Nice to see Domon not winning handily

"Challenge! The Red Rose Knight!"

-They actually designed a Sand family crest

-ah, early installment weirdness, Raymond (or his lookalike) is with the princess

-DAMMIT DOMON

-is George psychically interfacing with his Gundam? Like, he's not in it, and he doesn't have a remote. Voice activation? And he's able to stand on it while it's moving, that's some A+ balance

-what is that bottle? Booze again?

-is he gently shooting her down or is he just oblivious? Probably the latter, since he's confused that she didn't want to listen to him wax poetic about his Gundam

-Marie-Louise how did you come up with this

-okay Domon going along with the plan is actually pretty funny

-who makes a toilet with an outside lock

-”I see nothing before me with the exception of this man” das gay

-he's not going to finish you, George, because that would mean you'd let go of the tower

-the French in that letter actually kind of sucked. And with @amplexadversary's headcanon that Domon is a polyglot, I wonder if he theoretically could have written it

"Great Escape! A Captive Gundam Fighter"

-“Why are there names of countries on this?” How do you know how to read Japanese?

-oh, this will be a huge scandal when it gets out

-for someone his size, Argo is quick as hell, being able to knock Domon out of the sniper's way

-okay, is Nastasha military or law enforcement?

-the eternal question: are suit-ups usually like this and just truncated for time, or is it only that difficult for Domon?

-Nastasha is a little turned on by being talked back to

-is it an asylum or a prison??

"Fight, Domon! Earth is the Ring"

-Kyoji shows more outright attraction to Rain than Domon does :P

-Domon gushing about Master is adorable

-saved by the mom! I'm guessing Domon didn't want to talk about the science stuff he could never get into

-so the finger snap activation is a Kasshu trait

-more early installment weirdness, with evil!Karato and an alternate explanation for Ulube’s mask

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle - 14 -

Lovers in a Dangerous Time - 14 -

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement)

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo.

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement

Words: 3434

Chapter Summary – It’s graduation night for Maxwell and along with Sophie and Daniel, they attend the festivities with family and friends at the University of Cordonia in the capital. Tasked with a diplomatic opportunity, Liam flies to Rome for a summit with Francesco and officials of the Italian parliament.

Music & Title Inspiration: Lovers in a Dangerous Time, Bare Naked Ladies, Ben Grosse

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: Heartfelt thanks to @Selina012 for joining me in writing ideas and with dialogue for this chapter.

en route to Rome, Italy

Seated behind his computer screen, Liam scrolled through the files his advisors had given him earlier in the day. It was late into the evening and the plane was quiet. Drake was asleep in his chair, snoring softly, and Bastien was seated nearby, his eyes trained on his book. Rashad, standing for the crown’s legal counsel, was reviewing the proposals that would be discussed and implemented if agreed upon.

The only sound came from the occasional beep of the computer's keyboard as Liam entered the codes that would allow him to access the secure files. Sitting back, he began to read through and analyze the information. After an hour or so had passed by, Liam stopped to acknowledge the flight attendant who set down a late snack and two fingers of scotch.

After taking a sip, he turned to his head guard.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Liam said quietly as he closed the laptop and set it aside.

"Of course not, sir," Bastien said. "What's on your mind?"

"I just had an interesting chat with a source. There have been rumors circulating in Cordonia that the 'Sons of the Earth' are organizing. The Sons have been out of power since the last time they rose up to oppose the monarchy over a decade ago.”

"They were never a real threat," Bastien stated, his tone confident.

"My source tells me that a new leader has risen within their ranks, someone who is very charismatic, and able to sway the others with his message. I am concerned, Bastien. The Sons were always an extreme faction, and they could prove dangerous if allowed to regain power."

"You want me to find out more about them?"

"Yes," Liam nodded. "And be discreet. If it turns out that this new leader has no real power, we can put this behind us. But if there's any threat or danger, we need to be ahead of it."

"Of course, sir. I will situate agents immediately."

"Thank you, Bastien." Liam's expression grew pensive as he turned back to open the computer. "There is something else."

"Sir?"

"This source tells me that the Sons' leader has taken a particular interest in a member of the nobility. It is believed that the noblewoman is being used to gain support among the other houses.”

"Which noblewoman?"

"Duchess Adelaide Amaranth," Liam answered, his gaze hardening. "According to the information I have, factions have been allowed to situate in Krona."

"You want me to investigate her involvement, as well."

"I'd like you to bring her in and question her, yes. And I want a full investigation into her financial records. See if you can uncover any ties between her and the Sons."

"Consider it done, sir."

Liam loved the power and responsibility of his role as the crown prince. He thrived on the challenges and opportunities it provided, and was excited for the day he would take the throne as king.

With his advisor's files securely tucked away, Liam leaned back in his chair, a slight smile on his lips. He was confident in his ability to lead Cordonia into a brighter future, and he knew that with his team of advisors, he would be successful.

He had never felt so ready for the challenges ahead, and he couldn't wait to take his place as Cordonia's leader. He glanced at his ring, the royal seal engraved on it and smiled.

Liam knew he was doing the right thing. He was prepared and would not let his country down. He would protect it, care for it, and ensure that it remained prosperous and safe for generations to come.

He thought back to his father, and the legacy he would leave behind. Liam knew that his father had been a good king, and he hoped to emulate him as much as possible. He hoped that he would live up to the standard his father had set.

But more than anything, he was looking forward to starting a life with Sophie. Their relationship was a secret for now to many, but he knew that their time would come. He had been thinking about their future together a lot lately, and he had an idea of what he wanted to do.

University of Cordonia, student dorms, Candace’s suite

Sophie stood in front of the mirror, helping Candy fix the accessories in her hair. "Candy, you look amazing, and you will definitely be the center of attention at the party tonight."

Candy, who was wearing a long purple dress, smiled and turned to take a satisfied look at her makeup. "Thanks Sophie! I picked this dress out especially for the grad, and Tom will be there, too. It's the first time we've ever been to a formal event like this together."

Sophie smiled with a hint of envy. "It's nice, you two look so good together. Speaking of which, Tom is your third boyfriend at Uni, right? You are always so popular with the guys."

Candy winked mischievously and patted Sophie on the shoulder. "Oh, Soph, don't say that. I'm just looking for the one who really belongs to me."

"Maybe, Candy," Sophie said, shaking her head. "I guess I just haven't met anyone yet. I am just fussy and hard to please," she grinned.

"...and you're almost a graduate. Why don't you even try to get a boyfriend? Maybe you're expecting too much of your future boyfriend, too."

Sophie laughed and waved her hand in front of her. Her relationship with Liam was still ‘under wraps’ with only family and Daniel knowing the truth. "No, it's not that. I have had some bad luck with dating in the past. And besides, I have other priorities."

Candy raised her eyebrows. "Other priorities?"

"Like finishing my education and starting my career." Sophie shrugged.

"Sophie, you know that's not enough to keep a man happy," Candy teased.

Candy's cell phone rang. She picked it up and saw that it was Tom. Candy suddenly smiled with joy, picked up the phone in front of Sophia and began to talk to Tom endlessly.

Sophie's sighed and went out on the balcony alone. The sky was now dark, and the stars dotted the night sky. The cool evening breeze touched her face and soothed her heart. As she looked around, the campus was enveloped in a colorful glow. The trees and buildings were decorated with all kinds of colorful lights and decorations. The celebration of the end of the school year filled every corner.

She picked up her phone and sent Liam a quick text and snapshot of the view from the balcony, her fingers jumping across the screen, and finally pressed send. But as the minutes ticked by Liam's response was slower to arrive than usual.

Sophie's eyes flashed a hint of loss, and she put the phone down slowly. She took a few deep breaths and recalled that Liam had said the previous night that he was going on a four-day business trip to Italy with his advisors. Perhaps he is now busy meeting with the Italian politicians. In a few days they'd see each other again, she put her phone into her clutch and smiled.

Just then the balcony door was pushed open. Candy, with a glow of happiness on her face walked quickly out onto the balcony and said excitedly, "Tom is waiting downstairs, we must go. Are you ready?" Sophie nodded and smiled at Candy, happy for her. "I'm ready, let's go."

Outside the building, a young man with a bouquet of flowers stood by the roadside waiting. Upon seeing Candy, he spread his arms in joy and the two embraced followed by a passionate kiss. Sophie looked at their sweet exchange, with both blessing and faint envy in her heart. But she quickly recovered her mood and followed them on to their way to the auditorium.

U. of C. Auditorium

As they stepped inside, the grandeur of the space overwhelmed Sophie. The walls were lined with intricately carved stonework and the ceilings were adorned with ornate frescoes depicting the history of Cordonia.

The stage was set at the far end of the hall, with a large, curved platform flanked by rows of velvet chairs.

The room was filled with the sounds of conversation and laughter, as hundreds of students and their families gathered for the event.

"There you are!" Maxwell exclaimed, as Sophie approached the group. "We were starting to wonder if you were going to miss the ceremony."

Sophie grinned. "No way. I wouldn't miss this for anything."

She reached out to give Maxwell a hug and was surprised to find that he was wearing a tuxedo. "I see you decided to dress up for the occasion," she said, amused.

"Yeah, mom insisted!"

Maxwell gestured to Daniel, who was dressed similarly in a tailored suit, his hair combed neatly. "Squirrel!" Daniel shouted as Bertrand and her uncle Barthelemy looked on in dismay.

***

As the graduation ceremony ended, the excitement in the auditorium grew as the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the post formal festivities.

The sound of the band started, and everyone's eyes were drawn to the stage behind the dance floor.

Above the dance floor the ceiling was covered with gold tassels and twinkling crystal lights which complemented the colorful balloons and streamers surrounding the parquet floor.

A spotlight illuminated the space where a young man stood in a white tuxedo, a microphone in his hand.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice ringing out through the hall. "I am your host for this evening, and it is my great pleasure to welcome you all here to celebrate the graduating class of 2024."

There was a smattering of applause from the crowd. The host grinned. "It's time for the graduates to strut their stuff on the dance floor. Will all the students please take their places for the first dance."

Sophie laughed as she watched Maxwell and Daniel sashay arm in arm to the center.

Aunt Bethany gently tapped her shoulder. “Dear, your uncle, Bertrand, Sav and I are heading home. Have fun tonight.” Kissing her aunt’s cheek, Sophie turned her attention back to the dance.

“You guys can go dance then and I'll walk around.” Sophia smiled as she told Candy and Tom motioning towards the dance floor. Despite feeling a little lonely inside she wanted to give them some space to be alone.

“Okay, see you later Soph!” Candy and Tom smiled at each other and walked arm and arm into the dancing crowd. Looking at their backs Sophie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Memories of her first dance with Liam flooded her thoughts, seeming to have just happened yesterday. What would happen if you were by your side tonight, Liam? Maybe he would gently take her hand and ask her to dance with him or maybe they would sneak out of the room and find a quiet corner to enjoy some alone time and sweet solitude. Sophie moved through the crowd alone, occasionally greeting acquaintances, but more often she just quietly observed everything and everyone around her.

That is when the mood at the party suddenly turned eerie. The lights began to flicker and then the whole venue was plunged into darkness. The sounds of people began to cry out as they looked for their companions. What is the matter - is there a power outage? Sophie mumbled to herself as she was about to take out her phone for light. But that was forgotten as she heard gunfire in the distance, which instantly destroyed all the peace and beauty of the evening.

“It's a shooting!” A frightened voice broke through the darkness as people started running and screaming wildly. Sophie's heart raced as she pressed against a wall trying to find a safe refuge as the emergency lights clicked on. Out of nowhere, Sophie felt a stinging pain on her cheek and forehead. She touched it with her hand and blood smeared on her fingertips having been cut in the face by shards of flying glass. Being surrounded by a chaotic crowd and the sounds of more gunfire, Sophie never felt more terrified and helpless than ever before.

Sophie looked through the flickering lights and saw strange figures flash through the window. Each of them was dressed in black and wore a black mask showing only their cold eyes. What was even more bizarre was the emblem on their chests. Each had been embroidered with a strange pattern. A picture of the earth with a baby was intertwined. It was unclear and strange who or what this referenced. Sophie took out her phone to film them but then another shot rang out close by which made her jump. In a panic the crowd rushed in her direction and in chaos her phone was flipped out of her hands by a fleeing person which flew several meters slamming into to the ground.

Regardless of the panic she felt at the moment, Sophie quickly took advantage of a few people moving out of her way to run and pick up her phone and placed it into her pocket, the screen smashed. The sound of her name being called brought Sophie's mind back to reality. She turned her head and saw that Tom had been shot in the shoulder in the confusion and his blood was red on the floor and down the front of his suit jacket. Candy was also cut in the arm by flying shrapnel and in pain, huddled on the ground beside Tom.

Sophie, ignoring the pain on her face, struggled to rush to them and used her whole-body strength to help the two people up amid all the chaos and despair. She found a glimmer of strength in the fear she felt for her friend and the thought of Liam. Grabbing a table napkin, recalling the first aid she had learned during her Girl Scouts years, she made emergency bandages for both of them. as she bandaged, she looked around from time to time looking for possible escape routes, but the smoke and the fire blurred her vision, and every step was full of unknown and danger.

Candy knelt down beside Tom and held him tight ignoring the pain on her arm. Her voice crying was pain and heartache Tom's face was pale as paper, but his eyes still flashed with the will to live. “Candy, sweetie ...” Tom struggled to lift his wounded hand and gently wiped the tears from Candy’s face and forced a smile, although his own gunshot wound to the shoulder had nearly knocked him unconscious.

“We have to get out of here, quick.” Sophie had just finished patching up Tom's shoulder and stood up. “Let's go that way ... there seems to be an exit.” She said pointing to a looming door not far away. Candy dried her tears, and she nodded. Together they supported Tom, struggling through confusion and fear, Sophie leads them through the sea of fire and debris.

Rome, Italy

A sleek, black limousine drove through the city, navigating the busy streets until it arrived at a five-star hotel located in the historical centre.

Liam sat inside the spacious interior, his gaze fixed out the window as the scenery rushed past them. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Sophie, her face, her smile. The memory of the softness of her skin, the gentle curves of her body beneath his touch. He was anxiously waiting for her response to his text.

He was going through the days events of the first day of his official business meetings he had today. It was a very productive and busy day of meetings with the prime minister of Italy, the minister for economy, the mayor of Rome and others to discuss international issues, economic growth and cultural exchanges between Cordonia and Italy.

But there was a part of him that wasn't fully focused on the job at hand. His initial plan for this Italian trip was to formally propose, to show his family and country that their future Queen was the most important person in his life.

He remembered seeing the display of jewelry at the Cartier store, he had a ring, a symbol of their commitment picked out for her. Now, inside his suit jacket, that diamond ring was nestled safely next to his heart.

Liam started to become tense and anxious that he didn't hear anything from Sophie.

Rashad watched from the other side of the vehicle with concern. He cleared his throat and broke the silence. "You alright, my boy?" He asked softly.

Liam shook his head and forced a half-hearted laugh. "Sorry...I've got a lot of things on my mind right now."

"Yes," Rashad replied. "A lot of big decisions on the horizon. So how'd today go, if I may ask? I wasn't there at the meeting of the prime minister. How was it?"

Liam straightened his posture and raised his chin.

"I think it went very well. I gave a very encouraging speech and I was able to make him agree with our position about our partnership between the two nations. That should help open more trade deals and increase exports to other countries, maybe even beyond the EU, like China or the UAE."

Rashad nodded proudly. "Excellent."

The two men continued their discussion as the limo wound its way through the city towards the luxury hotel. After a short drive, the vehicle drew up to the entrance.

Drake smiled at the luxury accommodation and turned to Liam. "And the hotel you're staying in is The Ritz, right?"

Liam raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"This is where I'm staying for the duration of the trip, but I did the preliminary negotiating with them before we left so my entourage could get the penthouse floor. But first, my friend," Liam chided playfully, "I have to make a statement for diplomacy purposes."

Liam emerged from the limo as the reporters and press begin flashing their cameras as paparazzi called out for his attention.

'Ecco qui, Nostrand alternative!'

["Over here, Your Highness!" ]

"Your Highness, do you have any comments for the press?"

"Can you tell us what the plans are for the Cordonian delegation while in the city?"

Liam looked at the cameras and responded.

'Il mio governo attende con ansia i nostri dibattiti su come promuovere la crescita economica e le opportunita per i nostri Paesi, affinche tutti i nostri cittadini possano.'

["My government looks forward to our discussions about promoting economic growth and opportunities for our countries, so that everyone in our citizens can prosper and enjoy the benefits of progress." ]

The gathered journalists cheered, and a member of the concierge team opened the door and led Liam, Rashad, Drake and Bastien into the opulent interior of the building.

Before entering the elevator, Liam paused and turned to Bastien. "i need you to locate Lady Sophia. I have been unable to contact her since leaving Cordonia."

"Right away, sir."

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

📌perma tags: @bascmve01 @busywoman @kristinamae093 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kingliam2019 @ao719 @alj4890 @emkay512 @karahalloway @twinkleallnight @malblk21 @tinkie1973 @queenmiarys @emersyn-in-cordonia @dutifullynuttywitch @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @imjusthereforliam

📌 @selina012 @ @choicesficwriterscreations @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @delmissesryanandcassi @mom2000aggie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @cadybear420 @thosehallowedhalls @moravel @prettyboisteveharrington @imashybish @jared2612

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌙 Books for Arab American Heritage Month 🌙

🌙 Good morning, bookish bats, and Eid Mubarak to those who are celebrating. Eid al-Fitr ("the feast of breaking the fast") marks the end of Ramadan, an Islamic holy month of fasting and sacrifice. April is also Arab American Heritage month, which celebrates the 3.7 million Arab Americans across the country. This is an opportunity to combat Anti-Arab bigotry by challenging stereotypes and prejudices.

✨ One of the best ways to do so is to read books ABOUT Arab Americans. To help, here are a few books for Arab American Heritage Month you can read, discuss, or add to your ever-growing TBR!

[ List under the cut. ]

✨ Growing up, I didn't have books that represented my experiences as an Arab or Muslim American. My friends didn't have stories to read that could help them understand my perspective. With that in mind, I added children's books on the last slide, for the moms out there searching for diverse books--books that allow us to empathize and understand different perspectives and experiences.

🌙 A Woman Is No Man - Etaf Rum ✨ The Other Americans - Laila Lamami 🌙 You Exist Too Much - Zaina Arafat ✨ Grape Leaves - Gregory Orfalea and Sharif Elmusa 🌙 The Wrong End of the Telescope - Rabih Alameddine ✨ The Beauty of Your Face - Sahar Mustafah 🌙 Martyr - Kaveh Akbar ✨ Between Two Moons - Aisha Abdel Gawad 🌙 Tasting the Sky - Ibtisam Barakat ✨ A Game for Swallows - Zeina Abirached 🌙 Love Is An Ex-Country - Randa Jarrar ✨ The Thirty Names of Night - Zeyn Joukhadar

🌙 I Was Their American Dream - Malaka Gharib ✨ A Country Called Amreeka - Alia Malek 🌙 A Theory of Birds - Zaina Alsous ✨ Against the Loveless World - Susan Abulhawa 🌙 Arab in America - Toufic El Rassi ✨ The Skin and Its Girl - Sarah Cypher 🌙 Sex and Lies - Leïla Slimani ✨ Loom - Thérèse Soukar Chehade 🌙 Birds of Paradise - Diana Abu-Jaber ✨ Come With Me - Noami Shihab Nye 🌙 Girls of Riyadh - Rajāʼ ʻAbd Allāh Ṣāniʻ ✨ How Does It Feel to Be a Problem? - Moustafa Bayoumi

🌙 Evil Eye - Etaf Rum ✨ The Girl Who Fell to Earth - Sophia Al-Maria 🌙 What Strange Paradise - Omar El Akaad ✨ Girls That Never Die - Safia Elhillo 🌙 Bahari - Dina Macki ✨ Life Without a Recipe - Diana Abu-Jaber 🌙 Egyptian Diary - Richard Platt ✨ Man O'War - Cory McCarthy 🌙 The Cave - Amani Ballour, MD ✨ The Map of Salt and Stars - Zeyn Joukhadar 🌙 They Called Me a Lioness - Ahed Tamimi and Dena Takruri ✨ Salt Houses - Hala Alyan

🌙 Arabiyya - Reem Assil ✨ Mornings in Jenin - Susan Abulhawa 🌙 Shubeik Lubeik - Deena Mohamed ✨ The Wrong End of the Telescope - Rabih Alameddine 🌙 Conditional Citizens - Laila Lamami ✨ An Unnecessary Woman - Rabih Alameddine 🌙 It Won't Always Be Like This - Malaka Gharib ✨ Proud - Ibtihaj Muhammad 🌙 The Land in Our Bones - Layla K Feghali ✨ Everything Comes Next - Naomi Shihab Nye 🌙 The Immortals of Tehran - Ali Araghi ✨ Starstruck - Sarafina El-Badry Nance

🌙 Our Women on the Ground - Various ✨ The Jasad Heir - Sara Hashem 🌙 Tell Me How You Really Feel - Aminah Mae Safi ✨ Surge - Etel Adnan 🌙 Here to Stay - Sara Farizan ✨ We Hunt the Flame - Hafsah Faisal 🌙 A Tempest of Tea - Hafsah Faizal ✨ The Bad Muslim Discount - Syed M. Masood 🌙 A Girl Like That - Tanaz Bhathena ✨ Not the Girls You're Looking For - Aminah Mae Safi 🌙 All-American Muslim Girl - Nadine Jolie Courtney ✨ The Moon That Turns You Back - Hala Alyan

🌙 Ms. Marvel - Destined - Saladin Ahmed ✨ Americanized: Rebel Without a Green Card - Sara Saedi 🌙 Internment - Samira Ahmed ✨ Stardust Thief - Chelsea Abdullah 🌙 Once Upon an Eid - Various ✨ Farah Rocks Fifth Grade - Susan Muaddi Darraj 🌙 Barakah Beats - Maleeha Siddiqui ✨ Amira's Picture Day - Reem Faruqi 🌙 The Tale of Princess Fatima, Warrior Woman ✨ Lailah's Lunchbox - Reem Faruqi 🌙 In My Mosque - M.O. Yuksel ✨ Halal Hot Dogs - Susannah Aziz

🌙 The Proudest Blue - Ibtihaj Muhammad ✨ Silverworld - Diana Abu-Jaber 🌙 Other Words for Home - Jasmine Warga ✨ Time to Pray - Maha Addasi 🌙 Under My Hijab - Hena Khan ✨ Wishing Upon the Same Stars - Jacquetta Nammar Feldman 🌙 Amina's Voice - Hena Khan ✨ Yasmin the Recycler - Saadia Faruqi 🌙 The Shape of Thunder - Jasmine Warga ✨ Deep in the Sahara - Kelly Cunnane, Hoda Hadadi 🌙 The Turtle of Michigan - Naomi Shihab Nye ✨ Shad Hadid and the Alchemists of Alexandria - George Jreije

[ang3lfory0u]

~ What’d I ever do to you? ~ (Daryl Dixon x fem!reader)

————————————————————————————————-

I’m on a roll now 🌝

Slight rivals to lovers kinda thing cause we luv that

Set in s2 cause I miss that era 🌟

Idk how treating wounds works so bare w-not proof read either so sorry luvs

Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

————————————————————————————————-

She didn’t quite know what she did to make the brunette so putt off from her. She wasn’t necessarily a ray of sunshine or anything but she sure wasn’t rude. Y/n treated Daryl just like any other member of their group and everyone else seemed delighted by her presence. She was dry but kind and made an effort to help out anyway she could, housework or defence, she’d do it and she’d do it well.

So why on earth was her charm not working on Daryl ? Well, Y/n had noticed by now, he wasn’t like anyone else. He wasn’t easy, he was stubborn and moody but he was caring despite his attempts to hide it. I mean he was risking everything to search for a little girl he barely knew every single day. Mostly by himself also. Y/n figured, she could assist him in his search, not only because she was desperate for Sophia’s return, but also for an opportunity to figure this Daryl out and maybe push him to quitting his cold behaviour towards her.

“No.” The man’s tone was harsh and he didn’t even spare the girl a glance, continuing down the path to the forest. “You’re not coming with me”.

Y/n scoffed with an amused smirk, this’ll be fun, “and why is that?”

Daryl paused, turning to face the girl, almost crashing into her as he did so. Y/n was forced to look into the man’s eyes due the grip Daryl had on her wrists, “because you’ll slow me down.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, “oh is that right?”

“Yeah.” The man dropped her arms, proceeding on his previous route, his saunter remaining the same speed as before.

Y/n rolled her eyes, catching up to him and walking by his side, slightly nudging him. “Probably will if you get a head start.”

“Listen sunshine-not only would you be fuckin useless on this trip cause you can’t do shit but im taking one of old’Hershel’s horses and it won’t hold both of us, so beat it if ya know what’s good for ya.”Daryl moved his gaze to Y/n, his sour expression meeting her relaxed one.

“I’m sure we could make room.” She teased, not giving up.

Heat rose to the man’s face, coming out as snappy words“listen, I don’t know what you’re tryin to do-but it’s not fucking funny and it stops now, understood?”

A chuckle escaped her lips, pleased at the rise she got out of him. This provoked the man further. He stopped in his tracks, bringing his face strangely close to Y/n’s, his voice low as he asked her slowly “is that understood?”

Y/n’s lips parted, reluctant to answer. Laughing eternally at this stupid situation she was in. She mockingly responded,“Yes sir.”

“Good.”

His footsteps grew further and further away, going in the vague direction of the stables. Y/n didn’t follow him this time. Deciding she would search on her own and possibly meet him in the middle. She stumbled her way into the forest, shaking her head in amusement.

Daryl was also shaking his head, but he was not amused in the slightest. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pursed in annoyance, the twinge of heat rising in his cheeks making his walking speed up, desperate to rid himself of the feeling.

Birds singing was a rarity in the forest nowadays, but due to the warm and sunny nature of the day, a few occasional tweets could be heard. And combined with the refreshing sound of what was likely to be a river, it seemed liked heaven there. Y/n grinned as the sound of running water finally brought her to the source, greeting her with the gorgeous sight of a waterfall. She picked up her pace approaching it, her smile faltering as she noticed something disrupting the view. At first glance it appeared to be a walker, Y/n’s breath slightly hitched at that, subconsciously reaching for her gun strapped at her hip. As she came closer, however, her eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t a walker, it was Daryl. Daryl fucking Dixon with what appeared to be an arrow through his side.

Panic seeped through Y/n’s mind and she picked up her pace, without thinking, she stepped into the water and wading her way through the shallow water. It soaked her trousers through but that was the least of her concerns.

She knelt down besides the man, immediately reaching to check his pulse. She took note that his eyes were closed but he was breathing.

“Shit” she muttered, this must of caught Daryl’s attention somehow because he let out a pained groan. “Okay buddy I got you.”

Struggling, she managed to prop Daryl up and swing his arm over her shoulder, grimacing as she did so, he was a heavy man. With all the gentleness she could, she tugged him to his feet, beginning to hobble to the bank.

It took a few moments and wasn’t easy but Y/n managed to slump Daryl onto the grass. This caused him to let out another, louder, groan.

“I know I know, I’m gonna try help you alright ?”

“Hm” Gosh, he was so exhausted he couldn’t even argue. Poor bloke.

“Right im gonna have to remove the arrow-you okay with that big guy?”

Said guy let out an incoherent mumble, “well I have to anyway so you don’t get much of a choice. Do you need a stick or something to bite down on?”

“I’m not a pussy.” These were the first words Y/n could actually make out, and they made her sigh out a chuckle.

“Okay whatever you say.”

Being as careful as she could, so not to agitate the wound too much, she snapped the arrow in half, sliding it slowly out of Daryl’s side. A slight grunt could be heard but he seemed mostly unaffected.

“Well done-you’re doing so well”.

The man scoffed, “don’t need your praise lady.”

“Trust me love, it’s more for me than you.”

Without another word, the girl ripped a large section of her shirt off, exposing more of her stomach. That was the least of her concerns as she gestured Daryl to lift his hips. He did as asked and Y/n wrapped the scrap fabric around his stomach, blotting the wound.

Realising this wouldn’t be very affective, Y/n ripped yet another section of her shirt, stuffing it under the band and on top of the wound, pressing down gently. This did get a reaction out of the man, he let out a string of pained groans.

“Alright alright, im sorry im trying my best.”

“S’not you sweetheart, just hurts.”

The nickname would’ve usually thrown Y/n off, but she was too focused on the task at hand. Luckily, the bleeding did seem to slow down and lessen.

“Okay I think I’ve done a decent enough job-we can probably get you back to camp.”

“Thanks darlin, help me up would ya?”

“Sure thing”

The girl gripped Daryl’s arm and dragged him to his feet.

“Hey-hey! Gentle-gentle !”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Y/n yet again, propped the man up against her, leading him in the direction of camp. It was slow but it worked.

They eventually emerged form the forest, the limping definitely giving those back at camp the wrong idea because not only did a small group of them come sprinting through the grass, but a bullet was also fired and skidded Daryl’s face, barely missing skull.

“Jesus Christ!” Y/n called out, stumbling back with the man. She struggled to regain the pairs balance but she darted her head to Daryl’s. “God are you okay? Can you hear me?”

The answer was clear as the man completely went limp. Y/n’s eyes widened, her breathing speeding up. “Rick! Rick for fucks sake! Get Hershel down here right now!”

Thank heavens Rick was already speeding down the hill, making it only a matter of time until he approached the two.

“Holy shit-what happened?”

“He-he got an arrow wound and then-I don’t know he’s just been shot I think-I think it missed his skull though-just help him please!”

It had been around half an hour, half an hour of Y/n pacing outside the room that Daryl was being treated in. She couldn’t really think of anything else, I mean he was barely shot in the head and was bleeding out-his chance of not making it were high. For some reason, she couldn’t bare that thought. Walking around camp and not seeing him? That freaked her out. Wether people (Shane) wanted to admit it or not, that man did a lot for these people, specifically Carol. This all happened because he was looking for her missing kid, in fact he was one of the only people who still believed they had a chance of finding her. He had a kind heart. Somewhere under his rough exterior, it was there and it was strong.

She’d miss him she supposed, their little quarrels that kept her entertained. His somewhat soothing voice and weirdly comforting blue eyes. Y/n would admit more times than once she found herself admiring him. And she’s miss that.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the door opening, reveal Hershel holding his trusty medical bag. Y/n gave him a look of anticipation and he responded with a weary smile.

“You may see him.” With that he made his way down the hall with no other words.

Y/n held her breath slightly, entering the room, closing the door behind her and looking down at the man curled up on the mattress.

“Hey-”

“Don’t even try.”

She blinked in confusion, slightly taken aback. “Try what?”

She heard Daryl sigh, “I don’t need you to Mock me, tell me that this is why I shoulda brought you. I get it but I’m glad I didn’t bring you.”

Y/n thought for a moment before replying with a sigh, “after all of that-you’re still glad you didn’t bring me? What-did you wanna die in the woods? Sorry, didn’t mean to get in the way of your suicide mission.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

The girl began to become agitated now, backing away from the bed slightly,“No no I don’t know what you mean! What is your issue with me?!”

There was a pause before the man turned over to face her, “issue? What’s my issue-with you?”

“Yeah” Y/n said, an expecting look on her features, “not meaning to sound arrogant or anything, but everyone else here seems to like me a hell of a lot-everyone but you, why? Last time I checked I haven’t treated you any different. So what is it huh? Whyd you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.” The man surprisingly remained calm, his tone low as before.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at that response. “You sure? Cause that’s not what I’m getting.”

Daryl sighed, “alright doll-usin that logic lemme ask you somethin, if ya thought I hated ya why d’ya keep tryin to talk to me huh ?”

Y/n’s confidence faltered, mainly because she herself did not know the answer to that question. Why did she bother?

“Well-I wanted to at-least try and get through to you, I mean we’re kinda trapped together right?”

“Ya don’t like Shane-ya just avoid him, so why is it any different to me?”

“You’re missing the point Daryl-why didn’t you want me coming with you to look for Sophia? Cause I know damn well it’s not cause I’d slow you down.”

Daryl’s eyes left hers, not knowing what to say. He knew exactly why but he couldn’t bare her figuring it out.

“You really have nothing to say?” she waiting a few seconds but to no avail. Rolling her eyes she turned towards the door, “unbelievable-unbelievable”

“Cause I was worried about ya.”

Y/n paused, gulping slightly still facing the door, “you were worried about me? Why ? Think I can’t handle myself or something?”

“You know the reason.”

That made Y/n turn to meet his eyes, “do I?”

Daryl had a deep frown on his face, “because I don’t want to loose you.”

Y/n’s heart swelled in the best way possible, a smirk making its way onto her face, “hm? Why’s that?” She kneeled onto the bed next to the man’s figure. His eyes slightly widened, his normally arrogant character vanishing when he met her y/e/c eyes. They never failed to make him melt like butter.

He cleared his throat before finally replying, “wouldn’t get to see your face anymore would I?”

The girl grinned, “and that would bother you yeah?”

The man just nodded, not quite understanding where this was going. Y/n did though as she lent forward, cupping the man’s jaw.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

She connected their lips, smile growing as she felt Daryl sigh into the kiss. His hand reached up to hold her chin, his thumb moving in slow swiping motions.

After a few moments, Y/n pulled away, not missing the way the man chased her lips. She didn’t say anything, only scanning the man’s face, a dazed but happy look on her face.

“Who knew you could have such feelings”

Daryl let out a light scoff, “s’not difficult when it comes with you.”

Y/n gaped at the man, not quite believing her ears, Daryl could express his feelings? “oh yeah?”

“Yeah-you’re a pretty girl.”

The girl made a mocking face, “and that’s all I am?”

She was surprised when the injured man propped himself up, attaching his lips to hers and caressing her exposed skin.

He muttered against her lips, “ya know damn well you’re more than that.”

[howlingguardian]

hi hello i just wanted to let you know that i just binge-read your butcher!Taylor story and holy crap. wow. i'm amazed by how relatable you've managed to make the Butcher personalities—many of them, specially Firecracker, Nemean, Anchorage and Tactical, make me feel a bit like "and there, but for the grace of God, go I"—if it weren't for my heaps of sheer dumb luck (and the fact that this is isn't Earth Bet, obviously), that could have been me. it makes the entire story super interesting, and makes me kinda hope for the time Amy manages to get those letters to their destination—i really hope they get some closure, and not just Flinch's family. This last chapter—aside from making me despair about the cliffhanger—was really sweet: i loved the Amy interaction and I agree with Anchorage's Grandmaw that good food heals all, and helps always. I also really loved the Sophia, Taylor and mall guards interaction as well—Taylor was right in calling those fuckers out, and idk whether or not you're white, but you get internet cookies for that. I'm also a fan of Danny and Taylor rebuilding their relationship, Danny visibly getting better, and how despite Taylor gaining a newfound confidence bc of the Butcher's memories & life experiences, she isn't magically over what the Trio did to her—they still affect her, even if she's better equipped to dealing with them. It makes her more believable as a character. I'm also deeply curious about T—I'm hoping for an interlude from his POV eventually. He's been right there through a lot of it, and he's stuck by Taylor, and we don't really know what's up with him—there are some hints about helicopter parents who are overly supportive, but it sure stands out how he hasn't really told them he's a cape, which makes me think they're more overbearing than supportive, but I don't know. The way in which he covers himself in metal sure feels like burrito-ing in a security blanket, times 10. My heart goes to Vicky too—what she's going through sucks, hard. And I really appreciate how you've made an effort to make Brandish come across as a total bitch who has her reasons—she's not totally irrational, just differently rational. Really comes across how she's very obviously talking from a place of trauma and not casual cruelty. Also loving how you humanized Manpower—made it real clear even the "well-adjusted" capes are a lil fucked in the head (/non-pejorative—so am i, frankly). And I *really* love your Assault. I'm kinda hoping he breaks lines and has some words w Elpis, off the record—just because I really like him, and as someone who also has some misgivings abt the Gov, I'd like to see what Assault is thinking—that bit where they referenced Assault's past as Madcap as his "misspent youth" really made me grind my teeth.

This has been enough ranting I wager but anyways, the point is: awesome story, I love it, tahnk you for writing it!!!

Holy shit, this is, by a wide margin, the longest ask or message I've ever got. Thank you so much! I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, and it's going to be a big one!

I did aim to try and make the point that the Butchers, like a lot of villains, did not just decide to turn to a life of crime for shits and giggles. Many of them were forced into it by circumstance and spiralled down to stay alive. In the right environment, they'd have thrived.

The letters too- those will play a part, showing the Butcher's human connections and emphasising that they are human themselves. Even if they are currently disembodied voices in the head of a tenage girl.

Tarquin is... honestly, thinking some things about myself, I think he's got elements of myself in him. My parents aren't so hovering, but I do get the idea of putting up a facade to hide your vulnerabilities.

Characterisation is important in fanfiction, and maintaining nuance can make or break a story. Sometimes it's fun to exaggerate a character's personality, but I wanted to stick close to canon, so it's very encouraging to hear you approve of how I've written Vicky and Brandish and Manpower and a lot of other tricky characters.

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoy Here Comes The New Boss! The next chapter's coming out sometime this week, but if you can't wait until then, you can try my spin-off Hostile Takeover for a bit of fun.

[holybatgirlz]

You're eyes whispered "Have we met?"

Read it on Ao3

Summary:

��and finally, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton, is happy to announce his engagement to the young Miss Sophia Beckett, daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett of Wiltshire and ward to the late earl of Penwood. They plan to hold their wedding in late June…

Waking up to the news you're engaged is certainly a surprise. Especially when you have no recollection of a proposal ever happening.

Word count: 9.9k+

Notes: This was going to be my final entry to Benophie week back in June, but I didn’t finish it in time. But here it is finally. And yes, I know, I already have a fake dating fic (that I need to finish) but I read the summary for “Not the Kind of Earl You Would Marry” and started thinking about it relating to Benophie. Which is never a good sign.

Sophie had never particularly enjoyed the marriage announcements part of the morning paper.

It wasn't that she hated them, they were the announcements of other people's happiness. Those whose lives were far more privileged and more straightforward than her own. Uncomplicated by poverty and abuse like hers. She knew she shouldn't be bitter and jealous, but she couldn't help it. They left her wondering what their lives were like. Fantasizing about how they had met and fallen in love, hoping they were all love matches. 

All it did was make the reality of her situation even worse.

Usually, she ignored them. It wasn't as if she actually had the time to sit down and read them over, to begin with, but today was different. 

When she came downstairs and found Mrs. Gibbons and the cook with expressions of dread and worry on their faces, she grew concerned. A pit formed in her stomach as she watched the housekeeper approach her. Mrs. Gibbons didn't say anything as she handed her the paper and pointed to a paragraph hidden amongst the announcements column. It is right at the bottom and barely noticeable at first. Until she saw the names. 

Recognized the names. 

…and finally, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton is happy to announce his engagement to the young Miss Sophia Beckett, daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett of Wiltshire and ward of the late earl of Penwood. They plan to hold their wedding in late June…

Nothing but pure panic laced through her, freezing her to her core as she read it. As if her blood was being replaced with ice. Sophie was at a loss for words. Her body turned to marble, as if her brain had just stopped working. She no longer knew how to speak, think, or breathe. 

But she knew exactly what would happen if Araminta saw it.

And unfortunately, as Sophie stood, trembling in the kitchen, trying to think up a way to hide this news from her stepmother, the butler had already unknowingly delivered the other copy to her upstairs as she readied herself for the day. The loud, shrill scream of Sophie's name reverberating throughout Penwood House confirmed that. 

How on earth it was that she had ended up engaged to the man of her dreams was beyond Sophie's knowledge. She never left Penwood House (save for that one night two months ago), and she certainly did not interact with those of the other sex (save for that one night two months ago). 

And that wasn't even the worst part. 

It was that she was engaged to the man of her dreams.

~~~

Benedict woke up to the sight of his elder brother towering over him.

It took him a minute to recognize it was Anthony standing next to his bed. There was a dull throb in his skull he hadn't yet slept off, the result of his drinking choices the night prior after he had, once again, failed to find the Lady in Silver.

Blinking away the sleep from his eyes and realizing it was his brother, Benedict frowned. How the hell had Anthony gotten into his lodgings? Benedict was going to have to speak to his valet, Graves, about this.

"Good morning, brother," he said slowly. Benedict was concerned about how his brother had gotten in and why he was bothering him so early in the morning. 

Glancing down, Benedict quickly remembered he was currently naked underneath the bed sheet that was covering his lower body. Grabbing it, he slowly pulled it upwards over his chest, making sure he was fully covered before he looked back to his brother and added. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What on earth were you thinking?" Anthony asked, no, demanded from him, glaring down at him with his furious I'm-the-viscount-and-you'll-do-as-I-say look that had never swayed or affected Benedict.

"That another drink wasn't a terrible idea," he groaned back, rubbing his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself up. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"Oh no. You do not get to play games with me right now, Benedict. Do you have any idea what your actions have caused? What they've done to mother? She's been in a state all morning since she found out," Anthony informed him furiously. 

Benedict's confused frown only deepened as he stared up at his brother. While he was a drinker, he'd certainly never been the type to be the fool while intoxicated (minus the one occasion with drug-infused tea courtesy of his brother). Usually, he was just overly cheerful or depressed, but that was when he was alone. He doubted he'd done anything to bring shame on his family name. Let alone frazzle his mother.

"I'm confused. What exactly is it that you think I've done?" he asked back. 

"Your engagement," Anthony snapped. "You've broken our mother's heart by not telling her any of this."

Benedict stared at his brother in silence before the confused frown on his face shifted to a smile. He couldn't help it. He started laughing.

Which only infuriated his already furious brother. 

"Why are you laughing?" Anthony once again demanded as Benedict continued chuckling. 

"Because I'm not engaged," he retorted between breaths. 

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes. You. Are." 

"I think I would know if I was, brother." 

"There is an announcement. Benedict."

"What announcement?"

The vein bulging in Anthony's forehead looked about to burst. Clearing his throat, his brother lifted the paper he'd been holding this entire time and read it out to him. 

"Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton, is happy to announce his engagement to the young Miss Sophia Beckett, daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett of Wiltshire and the ward of the late earl of Penwood. They plan to hold their wedding in late June," he said with a dramatic flourish that barely concealed his annoyance. 

The laughing ceased immediately. The humor of this situation disappeared in a puff of smoke as Benedict stared at his brother in disbelief. 

"What do you mean there is an announcement in the paper?" Benedict sat up and snatched the paper from him, believing this to be nothing more than a lie. A bold-faced prank his brother was pulling on him. 

He scoured the page until he found the announcement in the bottom right corner. The last one. Almost hidden away, he found his name staring back at him mockingly, next to the name of a woman he did not know.  

Staring at the little paragraph in shock, he'd hoped he could just blink, and it would magically fade away, or that his brother would tell him this was all just some sick joke. 

And besides that, who the hell was Sophia Beckett?

"You seriously don't know?" Anthony asked, now the one who was confused. And concerned.

"Anthony, I swear, I'm not engaged, and I certainly did not announce one to the public," Benedict replied, his voice almost shaking from the shock of what he'd just read. Praying that his brother would believe him.

But he did. It was Anthony, for crying out loud. His brother knew immediately that he was being truthful with him. The rigid, tense posture relaxed as he shifted from furious Viscount to supportive older brother, recognizing they had been had. The implications of a false engagement on Benedict and their family led Anthony's anger to slowly shift and be directed toward whoever was at fault for this. 

"We'll figure this out," he told him gently. "Get dressed. We'll head to the printer's shop and find out what happened."

Benedict groaned as he realized another problem. "I need to explain this to mother."

"We'll tell her on the way," Anthony patted him supportively on the shoulder. "Get dressed. Come on."

After hastily dressing, Benedict departed from his lodgings with his brother, not even bothering to shave as they were in too much of a rush. He hopped into the carriage behind his brother, spending the entire trip feeling as if he'd throw up his heart, given it felt as if it was sitting in his throat now, beating wildly. He wouldn't even look out the window, couldn't actually. He feared someone would recognize him from behind the glass. 

His anxieties got the better of him as they traveled the short distance to Number 5. His mind was overwhelmed by guilt and worry. How on earth was he supposed to explain this to his mother? God, she must have been furious with him.

They entered the home quickly once they'd arrived, and Benedict found his mother pacing the front foyer, rambling to herself. Kate was there as well, and it was apparent she'd spent the past God knows how many minutes trying to calm her down as his youngest siblings were perched on the stairs, watching the scene unfold. 

"Benedict!" his mother cried out as she spotted him, rushing towards him.

"Here we go," Benedict muttered. 

"Good luck," Anthony whispered, patting him on the back as their mother stopped in front of them. 

"How could you not tell me?" was the first question out of his mother's mouth, voice laced with pain and a distraught look on her face that tugged at Benedict's heart. He hated upsetting her. 

"Mother, I-" Benedict started. 

"Did you truly believe I would be against this?"

"No, I just-"

"Have I offended you somehow? Made you believe I would not support you?"

"Of course not. Mother, this is just some-"

"What did I do to make you believe you had to go behind my back?"

"Mother, I swear I-"

"I never wanted any of you to believe you had to keep your love for another to yourself. If you had just come to me, Benedict, I would have been more than welcome to give you my blessing. I could care less if Miss Beckett is a ward. If you are in love with her, then you have my full support," his mother rambled on. 

"Mother. Mother!" Benedict placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm not getting married. I do not even know the woman."

"Oh!" his mother looked momentarily surprised at the news, bright blue eyes wide, before she blinked at him, then frowned. "But there is an announcement."

"Which I assure you, I did not make," Benedict explained. 

"Well, then, who on earth did?" she loudly asked, aghast now. 

"That is something we would all like to know," Anthony replied. He'd gone to stand by his wife now, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. 

"I have no idea," Benedict said, answering his mother's question. "Anthony and I are going to the printer's shop today to figure out how this happened. We'll get them to retract it. I promise."

"Well, it's a little late for that now," his mother told him with a little huff. "And even if we can get a statement out to reverse this, we'll have to figure out a way to explain what's happened."

"Thankfully, Whistledown arrived before the newspaper did," Hyacinth said.

"Even she did not know," Gregory added.

"Well, Whistledown won't be able to know anything since there is no truth to any of this," Benedict replied quickly, his aggravation over the entire situation leaking out through his tone. He turned towards his mother. "Sophia Beckett. Have you ever heard of Penwood having a ward?" 

"There were whispers a few years back. That a child was living at Penwood Park. The earl's mother allegedly said he'd taken in a distant cousin's daughter before she died, but it was never confirmed. No one ever saw or met this ward of his. And Lord Gunningworth was never an approachable man, so I do not believe anyone ever asked him to confirm it," his mother told him. "The only children I know of are the late earl's stepchildren."

"The Reiling girls, yes, I remember them," Benedict supplied, recalling his visit to Penwood House in search of his mysterious dancing partner. He tried not to shudder, recalling his interactions with the eldest Reiling and her mother. The entire interaction had been a waste of time, and he had left with no interest in spending time with them again.

His mother frowned. "If anyone would falsify an engagement announcement for their own benefit, it would be Lady Penwood. There were rumors she did that to Lord Gunningworth to guarantee his proposal, but I'm surprised she did not use one of her daughters. If it was her, that is." 

"I never met or saw this Miss Beckett when I visited. I don't even recall her being mentioned," Benedict told her. 

He'd only met the two Reiling girls, quickly dismissing them both once he realized neither was the woman he was searching for. And when he thought about it, Lady Penwood had told him herself that no other ladies were living in Penwood House besides the staff. 

"She may have remained in the county after her guardian's death," Anthony suggested. "If she even exists."

"Maybe we get lucky, and she doesn't," Hyacinth supplied. 

"If someone went to the trouble of falsifying an engagement announcement, I doubt they'd give the name of someone who never existed," Kate replied. "Even if that would make all of this much simpler." 

His mother hummed. She had her scheming face now. That was never a good sign.

"It may be beneficial, as much as I hate to say this, to invite Lady Penwood and Miss Beckett here," his mother replied. "We will be able to confirm Miss Beckett's existence. And while I would rather not have that woman in this home, we may be able to learn more about how this all happened. If we feign ignorance." 

"If you are willing to extend the invitation while Benedict and I will head to the printer's shop now, then it's settled," Anthony said.

Benedict took a deep breath. Today was undoubtedly going to be an adventure. And he still had yet to fully recover from his hangover. 

He could only assume that this Miss Beckett, wherever she was, was having a more enjoyable morning than he was.

~~~

Sophie had been stuck in the downstairs closest for roughly two hours now. 

She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been in the closet. She'd gotten tired of trying to keep track of the time as she sat cross-legged on the floor in the dark, waiting for Araminta to decide she could be let out again. It always got incredibly dull when she was locked in one of the closets as punishment, her thoughts her only company.

Suffice to say, her stepmother had not taken the news well. Storming down the stairs like a bat out of hell, screaming like a banshee at her. Accusing her of being ungrateful, of ruining her daughters, and being a whore like her dead mother (for which Sophie got slapped across the face after trying to defend her). After she was done screaming, Araminta had trapped her in the closet while she tried to figure out what to do with her. She'd screamed about throwing her out of the home and onto the streets, but Sophie had heard that threat too many times before for it to have an effect on her. There was no one else in London Araminta could get to work as a maid, gardener, tailor, and whatever else she needed Sophie to be for the simple fee of nothing at all. 

Not that Sophie was prepared to leave. She always had been, but when you worked for nothing, she was left with nothing. No way of supporting her escape. 

Yet somehow, through all of this, Araminta still hadn't figured out Sophie had snuck out two months ago to attend a ball. The scuffed silver shoes she'd borrowed were still hidden in the back of her stepmother's closet. She had that, at least. 

So, as she sat on the floor of the closet, fiddling with a loose string on her old dress, Sophie waited for someone to come unlock the door. Going through her unattainable escape plan once again. Nothing but a fantasy, just like Benedict Bridgerton was. 

Benedict Bridgerton. The man she spent such a wondrous evening with. Who made her heart flutter whenever she thought about him and of whom she'd spent many evenings dreaming about. 

And now her name was in the paper next to his. Announcing an impending marriage.

Which was impossible. She hadn't seen him since that night. Not once. They'd become nothing more than two ships passing in the night. A man who did not even know her name. A man she'd already come to terms with, never seeing him again. 

She sighed. This was a nightmare. Her dreams and fantasies had somehow become her personal nightmare. 

The lock shifted suddenly, moving from its place in the door frame and snapping her from her anxious thoughts. Sophie stumbled to her feet, realizing the door was finally unlocked and opened. Light pooled into the room once again.

And revealing a still furious-looking Araminta on the other side of the door. Who sneered at Sophie when she saw her before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. 

"We have been invited to the Bridgertons for tea."

Her eyes opened again as she said the last sentence and snapped to Sophie. She glared at her with such anger and disgust that Sophie flinched back from it, wishing to be anywhere but here.

"I'm sorry?" Sophie bleated out, confused.

"Rosamund will give you one of her dresses since I doubt you will fit into any of Posy's, and then we will depart. Now go! Get dressed," she ordered curtly, stepping back so Sophie could exit the closet. "You will come with me, and you will say nothing. Nothing. Do you hear me? You have done enough damage, and I will not risk you ruining any chances of Rosamund finding a match. I will handle this. See how I can convince the Bridgertons to break this insulting pairing." She scoffed, shaking her head in disgust as Sophie stepped past her and into the hallway. "To think you thought you had a chance with one of them. How pathetic." 

Clenching her jaw and her fists, her nails digging crescent-shaped moons into her palms, the only thing she had to ground her, Sophie took a deep breath through gritted teeth. She focused on trying to ignore how her stomach tightened at the jab. She wouldn't let it linger. She wouldn't. No matter how deep the knife felt. 

She was well aware that she had nothing to bring to this match. Her stepmother did not need to remind her. 

Straightening her back out, and ignoring the insult, as she had done for years now, she turned to face her. 

"Anything else you would like me to do, Lady Penwood?" she asked politely, forcing a smile.

Araminta only sneered, her lip curling upwards. "Make yourself look presentable. That is the least you can do for me. We leave for the Bridgertons in an hour." 

~~~

The printer's shop had been a dead end. The owner had refused their demands for answers, for explanations as to how Benedict's name had ended up in his paper next to a woman he did not know. Even Anthony's threats of libel and ruin did nothing to curb the owner's resolve. 

"It ain't false unless they don't get married," he told them gruffly. Adding to the insult, he'd then informed them a retraction would cost them quite some coin. 

A lot. 

Anthony made clear there would be consequences, regardless, before they took their leave. Finding no other reason to stick around and argue any further. Benedict had briefly contemplated waiting, noticing how skittish the printer's assistant looked as he worked in the background. He watched them with a guilty look as they spoke with his employer, and Benedict wondered if the man had more information. Information he was willing to provide. 

But they'd decided to try again later, knowing they had to be home in case there was a visit from the members of Penwood House. They could find out if their mother had learned anything new in their absence. 

And their mother informed them that, yes, Miss Beckett did, in fact, exist and would be arriving upon the hour with Lady Penwood.

Which was enough time for Benedict to down two glasses of whiskey just to keep his strength up.  

Christ, he had no idea what to do.

And he was angry. The shock of waking up to find himself engaged had slowly turned into annoyance and then rage as the day continued. He was furious that someone would force him into a marriage. It made him think about Nigel Berbrooke and what he'd tried with Daphne, which only made him even angrier when he remembered that slight. Against his sister, no less. And that had been years ago now. 

Not to mention, he'd already found the love of his life, the mysterious Lady in Silver. The woman who had captured his heart in one evening and then ran off with it when the clock struck twelve, disappearing into the night. He was still searching for her, and now he may never even be able to be with her even if he did find her. 

So, he was angry. With Miss Beckett. With the printer's shop. With whoever the hell it had been to put that announcement in the paper in the first place. 

His mother had tried to keep him calm, pulling him into a comforting, maternal hug when she saw him step out of his brother's office. He went willingly, a small part of him needing the validation, support, and comfort his mother offered. 

"We'll figure this out," she whispered. "If I didn't let your sister marry that god-awful Berbrooke, I won't let you marry someone you do not wish to either."

"I know," he replied.

Then she pulled away, moving to cup his cheeks in her hands as she rubbed circles over them with her thumbs.

"I'm sorry," he tells her again, his shoulders sagging.

"Oh hush, you have nothing to apologize for," she tells him, letting the words linger for a few seconds before she drops her hands from his face. "Lady Penwood should be here soon. Am I correct in my assumption you will be on your best behavior?" she gave him a knowing look as she said that part, one dark brow raised. 

Benedict huffed a laugh, trying not to roll his eyes. "Of course, mother." 

His mother only smiled again, reaching out to rub his cheek once more. 

"Behave," she warned, and he nodded. 

He was somehow able to keep his anger in check as he waited for the arrival of his apparent fiancee, Miss Sophia Beckett. 

The entire time they were waiting, he could only think the worst of her. The most likely ulterior motives she must have had. A country-raised woman, an orphan, a ward who probably had only a meager dowry. Most likely seeking out his family's wealth and status to uplift her own. He didn't know if she was younger or older than him. No idea what her likes were or her personality. If she was anything like the elder Reiling sister, Benedict doubted they'd get along. 

And then, she arrived. 

And he realized he may have rushed to conclusions. 

Because, frankly, she didn't look to him to have been the one to cause this. Didn't look a thing like the image he'd created in his mind. 

She was young, petite, probably a foot shorter than him, wearing pale green and white, although the gown appeared to run rather big on her. The bottom of the gown's skirt dragged across the floor as if it hadn't been altered correctly, the sleeves barely hanging onto her thin arms or covering her shoulders.

Her features were fairy-like, sharp but soft. Enough that drew him towards her like a moth to a flame. A look of innocence. Ringlet curls pinned back into a bun, the curls falling around the bottom like a fringe of a curtain, with the shorter ones framing her face. And her eyes were the color of emeralds. Round and weary of the surroundings around her. 

Benedict had to admit. She was quite beautiful. 

And almost familiar. A feeling of deja vu swept over him as he studied her. They couldn't possibly have met before. 

She was nervous, fiddling with the tips of her gloves as she lingered behind Lady Penwood during the introductions, as if trying to hide, keeping herself out of sight. 

"Lord Bridgerton and Lady Violet!" Lady Penwood exclaimed cheerfully as she entered; however, Benedict had seen enough forced smiles in his lifetime to know the woman was not happy to be here.

"Lady Araminta. How are you?" his mother replied, with an equal matching forced politeness to that of the countess, sounding as if she was being reunited with an old friend when he knew her feelings to be the complete opposite. 

"My sincerest apologies for all of this," the countess replied with a wave of the hand. "You must understand, we have no idea how any of this has happened." 

"Oh, I would never dare to assume. I'm certain this is nothing more than some cruel prank," Violet returned with a sharp smile. Her pale eyes drifted over Araminta's shoulder to the young Miss Beckett standing quietly behind her. "And you must be Miss Beckett."

The young lady curtsied. "Your ladyship." 

"This must have been such a surprise for you," Violet told her. "Getting dragged into all of this. I doubt it was what you expected when you woke up this morning."

Miss Beckett opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Araminta, who went as far to step in front of her, blocking their view as she began to talk instead.  

"You must understand, Sophia has never been the smartest young woman. I've personally never understood why my late husband took her in, but I know she'd never ever be stupid enough to force a gentleman's hand. You see, she only just arrived in town," the countess said. 

Benedict frowned. The tone had been polite, but there was a pointed jab directed at Sophie when Araminta spoke, anger hidden between the words. And Sophie only flinched as she spoke, shrinking back and away from them. A look on her face that said she wished to just disappear. 

Araminta's icy eyes finally fell on him.

"Mr. Bridgerton," she smiled, her wolfish smile. Teeth and all. "I feel I must personally apologize for you being dragged into all of this."

He nodded his bow. "There is no need to apologize, Lady Penwood. I'm certain we can resolve this amongst ourselves. And quickly."

"Why don't we discuss this all in the parlor?" Violet suggested. 

Araminta quickly agreed and followed his mother into the parlor, his brother close behind them, but Benedict found his feet suddenly rooted to the ground. Unable to move. Frankly, he didn't want to. Going into the parlor meant handling this god-awful affair, and he was just too tired to deal with it right now. 

And it appeared Miss Sophie felt the same. She hadn't moved from the front hall either, still standing a short distance away. Leaving them both standing there, awkwardly and alone. 

"I do not believe we were properly introduced," he told her, giving a short bow. "Benedict Bridgerton."

"Sophie. Sophie Beckett," she replied with another quick curtsy. "My sincerest apologies, Mr. Bridgerton. I swear, I had nothing to do with this." 

He believed her. He hardly knew her, yet something told him he could trust her. There was a strange familiarity about her like he'd met her before, but he couldn't place were. And the sincerity in her voice, the worry in her round doe eyes, she was not lying to him. 

"I believe you," he told her.

She blinked. "You do?"

"If anything, I should apologize to you," he told her. "I doubt this has been an enjoyable experience for you. And after you just arrived."

"Yes, I suppose it hasn't," she replied rather weakly. 

He knew her. He had to. She seemed so familiar, and yet he couldn't place were. Her curls and eyes, her voice, those soft, plump lips, he could have sworn he'd met her once. 

"Shall we?" he motioned towards the parlor, and she nodded. 

He'd figure it out.

~~~

You could hear a pin drop. That was how silent it had become. 

And the silence was going to kill Sophie. As she sat next to Araminta on the robin eggs blue and gold settee, across from Benedict, his mother, and brother, who all sat on the matching pair, all it did was aggravate her already high level of anxiety. 

No one was speaking. A standoff over who would speak first had been going on since they first entered the room and took their seats.

It was apparent the Bridgertons were suspicious of them and that they did not particularly like them either. Not that they didn't have a reason not to be. Lord Anthony Bridgerton stoically sat next to his mother, watching them both intently with a severe expression. His mother, Violet, had kept a more polite and cheerful facade. 

And Benedict.

Benedict looked increasingly uncomfortable like he'd eaten something that hadn't sat well with him.

She'd barely exchanged another word with him since their brief introduction.

Not that she'd been able to. Araminta kept answering for her whenever one of the Bridgertons asked her a question.

"I did not know the earl had a ward," Violet said suddenly with a forced cheery voice. Trying to start a conversation. 

"I spent most of my life in the country," Sophie quickly lied, smiling politely back. 

"His lordship did not see it fit for Sophie to mingle with the ton. What with her background being as low as it is," Araminta added. 

Her smile faltered for a second, but Sophie was able to keep it up, forcing herself to take a deep breath. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could leave.

But she had not gone unnoticed by Lady Violet. The older woman frowned with concern as she watched Sophie slowly shrink in on herself, trying to look smaller. 

"Still, I doubt that should have been a barrier," she remarked, her pale eyes snapping back towards Araminta. 

"Is there anyone you can think of who might have done this?" Anthony interjected, getting back to the point at hand.

"Of course not, Lord Bridgerton," Araminta replied. "My best guess is someone wished to bring scandal to both our names. For all I know, it could have been Whistledown, trying to create her own drama to write about."

"Unlikely, given her pamphlet today made no mention of my family and any recent engagements," Anthony replied. 

"She most likely will tomorrow, though," Araminta said back. 

"Yes, now that she knows, along with the rest of the city," Anthony responded tightly with an unimpressed look. It was apparent he was not happy with the responses Araminta was giving. 

"It may be best for us all to figure out how we will be handling this moving forward. We can focus on who is behind all of this later," Violet said this time. 

"Well, it seems rather simple to me," Araminta retorted. "We just informed the printer to report the engagement is now off."

There was a loose string on the wrist of the lace glove Sophie borrowed from Rosamund. An old pair she hadn't worn in years, and Sophie couldn't help but fiddle with the thin string hanging off from the fabric, rolling it between her thumb and index finger as she only half listened to the conversation.

"There will be talk, of course," Violet told them. "But we should be able to make this work out in our favor. Make this look amicable on both parts."

"A few public appearances here and there, and if we all stay to the same story when someone asks, I'm sure we can keep the rest of the ton off our backs," Anthony added.

"My daughters will be more than welcome to help," Araminta told them with a genuine, excited smile. "Sophie will unfortunately be returning to the country at the end of this week, but I'm sure we can make it work without her."

More like the broom closet of Penwood House.

But Sophie didn't like the look that crossed her stepmother's face. Her stepmother had just been told the Bridgertons would willingly interact with her and in public, no less. Sophie suspected she was already scheming to figure out a way to make this benefit her and Rosamund.

"Well," Sophie turned back towards Violet, who was speaking, and gave her a sympathetic smile. "It will certainly be much quieter in the country." 

"Yes, yes, she's incredibly lucky," Araminta added, with an edge in her voice only Sophie could recognize. 

Maybe it wasn't the broom closet she was being sent to.

~~~

After conceiving the story they would be using, the Bridgertons having decided they would be the ones to go to the printer's shop to have the announcement made, Sophie was preparing to leave with Araminta. Lady Violet, the only one who had followed them to the carriage to see them off, while her sons remained standing on the front steps, watching them. 

Sophie curtsied quickly to the dowager viscountess. "Thank you for hosting us, Lady Violet." 

"Oh, it was no worry. It was lovely to meet you. Safe travels back," Lady Violet replied, speaking to her and only her as Araminta seemed to wish to be anywhere else, speaking with the carriage driver. 

"Miss Beckett?" a voice called out behind her. A voice Sophie recognized.

Sophie turned and blinked in surprise as she found a familiar face coming towards her. 

"John?" she tilted her head towards the side. 

Dressed in similar lilac-colored uniforms as the other Bridgerton footmen, wig and all, was John Baker, the son of her father's butler. His family had worked for his father until he'd passed; his mother was one of the maids, and John had been assigned to the stables when he'd gotten old enough to be able to do manual labor. After Sophie's father died, the Bakers had taken their final payment and a letter of recommendation before leaving for London, having no interest in working for Araminta now that the earl was gone. 

"You two know each other?" Lady Violet asked, glancing between the pair. 

"Um, we were friends when we were children," Sophie told her quickly. 

John nodded. "My family worked for the Earl of Penwood, your ladyship."

John had been a few years older than her but was one of the only children close enough in age for her to play with, given she wasn't allowed to interact with the children from the village. They'd chased each other around the grounds of Penwood Park when they were very little. John was one of the few to keep her company, given her father, stepmother, and stepsisters had never given her any. 

Sophie had run into John the month prior at the markets one morning, recognizing her old friend when he'd been on his off day and not wearing his uniform she saw him in now. He'd been equally surprised to see her in London and to see her dressed as a maid, no less. At first, she'd done her best to hide what had happened since he'd left with his family, but John had caught on quickly to what Araminta had done to her. 

They'd chatted while she went through the market, purchasing the items Miss Gibbons had sent her out to fetch, and during it, she may have finally admitted to her old friend everything that had happened. Everything Araminta had done since her father died, up to the night she'd slipped out without anyone noticing, to attend a ball. 

"I did not realize you worked for the Gunningworths," Violet replied to John, looking surprised. 

"My parents took a position in the city after his death. To be closer to my mother's family," John told her. "Miss Beckett and I have not seen each other for quite some time now." 

"You look well, John," Sophie remarked, giving him a smile. 

"As do you," John replied. "What are you doing here anyway?" 

"Oh, just fixing some small miscommunication. I believe it's all been settled," Sophie shrugged off nervously, not sure whether she should disclose what had happened to him in front of his current employer. 

"Yes, it's all been settled now," Lady Violet smiled. "It was wonderful to meet you, Sophie, even under rather stressful circumstances."

"Come, Sophie," Araminta ordered curtly from where she stood by the carriage. "Let's go." 

"You're leaving already?" John asked, seeming confused before glancing back to where the elder Bridgerton sons were standing. 

"Well, we did settle everything we needed to," Sophie told him politely. 

"Sophia!" Araminta snapped from the carriage. "Now!" 

Sophie cringed, while Lady Violet only raised a brow at Araminta's curt orders but said nothing. She stepped aside so that Sophie could leave. 

Reaching out to grab the carriage door, knowing Araminta wouldn't hold it for her and the driver had already climbed up onto his seat, an arm reached out past her and grabbed it before she could even place her hand on it.

"No, here," John stepped forward. "Let me get that for you." 

~~~

They had yet to leave.

After all the polite chatting and planning, Benedict was exhausted. The whole situation was exhausting, and now he was stuck playing niceties with the Reiling girls for the next few weeks. 

He just wanted them gone. The Countess and Sophie. 

And they looked about to see if his mother would finish her conversation with Sophie. Even the Countess appeared to have the same feeling about him, looking rather bored and impatient as his mother saw them off. 

He impatiently tapped his foot against the ground enough that his brother quietly admonished him to stop. He couldn't help it. He just wanted the day to be over. And they were so close. The seconds felt like agonizing hours as Benedict waited. 

And then Footman John appeared. Benedict frowned, watching the man greet Sophie like she was an old friend, and by the looks of it, they seemed to know each other. Strange. How on earth did they know one another? 

The pair chatted happily together, briefly, as his mother seemed to ask a few questions before the countess ordered Sophie into the carriage. That they were leaving. 

Finally.

But then, Footman John stepped forward and moved his arm up to hold the carriage door open for Sophie, covering the top part of her face. Given her height, only her nose and jaw could be seen as she turned to thank him. 

It felt like the floor gave out under him.

Benedict froze. His heart stuttered as it almost stopped completely in his chest. It couldn't be. 

He knew that jaw. Those lips. He'd drawn it a thousand times. Seen in his dreams, found himself haunted by it and been practically tormented by it as the image followed his thoughts while he drifted through the days listlessly in search of her. As it became more and more apparent, he would never find her.

Until now.

It couldn't be her. It wasn't possible. 

The Lady in Silver.

She was here. She had been here the entire afternoon. Standing right in front of him, he hadn't realized. 

No wonder he thought he knew her from somewhere. His heart had been yelling at him the entire time she'd stood before him, and his mind had never caught on to it. Never put two and two together. But the pieces had finally fallen into place.

And she was leaving. If he didn't stop her, he was going to lose her again. 

"Wait!" he yelled, rushing down the stairs. 

"Benedict?" he heard his mother say, alarmed, as he raced towards the carriage, hastily moving past her. 

"Wait!" he yelled again, grabbing at the carriage door to prevent them from leaving. John, thankfully, stepped aside in surprise, giving him the space he needed.

"Mr. Bridgerton, what on earth–?" Lady Penwood started from inside the carriage, but he wasn't focused on her. He was too focused on the woman standing outside it, staring up at him with wide, petrified eyes, to care about the countess.

"It's you," he breathed out.

"I'm sorry?" Sophie blinked at him, confused. 

"That night. Two months ago. The Lady in Silver. That's you," he said, watching as her wide eyes somehow widened further.

"I-I have n-no idea what you are talking about," she nervously stuttered.

"I've spent the past two months searching day and night for you, and here you are," he huffed a laugh, still in disbelief. "All this time, and I never realized."

"What do you mean you've met before?" Araminta snapped from inside the carriage. "Sophie. What is the meaning of this?" 

The fearful look that flashed over Sophie's face as she glanced back toward the countess had tugged something within Benedict, making him ready to put himself directly in between them if necessary. 

"I-I… It's nothing, your ladyship. He's just confused," Sophie quickly told her. 

And then he realized. Two months. It had been two months since he'd seen her. But the countess had said she'd just arrived in the city that week. That she'd been in the county since the season began. 

The countess, who was the same woman that had told him, to his face, that no other woman lived at Penwood House. No one but the staff.

"You've been here all this time?" he said, and Sophie looked back at him. "How?"

"Because she's a maid," Footman John said quietly next to him and he looked at the man with alarm. "Lady Penwood forced her to be her servant after the late earl passed." 

The staff. She'd said no other woman lived in the house except staff. 

"She what?" his mother asked, aghast, having approached from behind him. 

"I did nothing of the sort," Araminta shot at them defensively. "She's been living at Penwood Park. The new lord cares for her out of the kindness of his own heart after my late husband left her nothing."

"He left her an inheritance. A dowry," John corrected, eyes dark as he glared at the countess. "To be managed until she turned twenty, after which the solicitor would help her manage it until she married, and it was handed off to her husband. My father saw his will. Multiple times. She'd get four thousand pounds a year after his death, and Sophie hasn't seen a single coin from it in all these years." 

"What? I have a what?" Sophie asked quietly, stunned by the news she was only just learning. 

"Two thousand pounds a year increased to six if you continued caring for her until she was of age," John grounded out at Araminta. "He didn't trust the new earl to be able to, what with his drinking habits, so he put the clause in to guarantee you would. He thought you'd get her married off quickly, and instead, you forced her into servitude." 

"You have no proof," Araminta hissed. 

"Is there a copy of this will anywhere?" Violet asked gently. 

John shrugged. "The solicitor may have one, but it's been years since I last saw him." 

"He left me a dowry?" Sophie said. Benedict finally noticed how pale she'd gone; the color all but vanished from her face. She was shaking. 

"Why on earth would you do that to the poor girl?" Violet demanded.

Araminta had decided to finally drop the pleasantries altogether, her worry turning to fierce fury, her lip curling into an ugly sneer. 

"Because the girl is nothing more than a bastard," she hissed.

“What?”

“She’s my late husband’s bastard,” Araminta repeated. “The daughter of some whore.” 

“Good lord,” Violet gasped quietly at the news, taken a back as well.

Benedict wouldn't deny the surprise he felt at this, followed ever so briefly by concern. Sophie was a bastard? There was nothing to suggest it except, but if the rest of the ton where to discover—

Concern over whether not he could or should be with Sophie, a flash of worry about how his family would handle this, briefly shot through him. He would hate himself later for it, but Benedict hesitated. He hesitated on the idea of being with Sophie. 

But when he glanced towards her, seeing she was now shaking, her eyes wide and filled with fear, he knew the only thing he wanted to do was keep her safe. To be by her side. The last thing he cared about was what the rest of society thought about him. All he wanted was to be with her.

"I don't care," he told Araminta, a protective fury building in him now.

The countess was momentarily taken aback by this, faltering briefly before the furious rage returned to her icy eyes. 

"You want to marry a bastard, then, by all means, do so. I'm certain the ton will be interested to hear exactly who Sophie Beckett truly is," she hissed. 

But Benedict glared furiously back at her, his hand clenched into a tight fist at his side. At that moment in time, he was completely prepared to throw a fist at the countess, but his mother suddenly stepped in front of him.

"You will do no such thing," she snapped.

"You think I'll allow some lowly bastard like her to marry into this society?" Araminta shot back.

"Oh, I think you will. In fact, I think it would be best if you give nothing but your best wishes to pair whenever you are asked," Violet coldly told her. "If this dowry has been mismanaged and withheld from Miss Beckett all these years, then I believe it would be best to investigate where exactly it has gone. Our solicitor will be more than welcome to seek out the truth on this matter."

"You have no proof," Araminta repeated. 

"Then I will send word immediately to your late husband's solicitor and the new earl. And I will not stop until I find it," Violet informed her. "I doubt you'll be able to afford that. What with the recent financial difficulties I've heard you've been having. Unpaid debts at the modiste." 

Araminta stiffened, revealing his mother's assumptions to be true.

"Your financial difficulties have certainly been the talk of the town lately. I'm surprised Whistledown hasn't pointed out how you have remained in London after the social season was over while the rest of us returned to the country these past few years. Trouble with the new lord?" Violet inquired, knowingly, moving closer to the carriage. "And it is not as if you haven't been without your own accusations. Your last marriage was rather rushed. Wasn't it? I doubt the late earl was happy it left him without a male heir. That was the reason he returned to London that season. And let's not forget your second marriage was done rather hastily, too. If I recall, your eldest was born soon after that? Seven months after your marriage to Lord Reiling. And perfectly healthy, too. Must have been a blessing for you that she took more after you in appearance than her father." 

Araminta blanched; mouth open in shock at what Violet had alluded to before white-hot fury flashing in her eyes. "How dare you–"

"How dare I what?" Violet snapped, head held high as she stepped towards the other woman again, and somehow, even as she stood below her due to the carriage, Violet was still able to look down at her. "Remind everyone of old rumors you did nothing to prevent or deny. Three scandalous marriages, Araminta, and not a single whisper. I am more than welcome to point out to the others that you are in no position to cast a stone at my family if you dare to speak out. Your past will certainly help deflect any gossip you direct towards us."

Violet stopped briefly, allowing her threats to linger, watching the shocked and grave expression grow on Araminta's face before continuing. "But I suppose I would be willing to hold my tongue as long as you hold yours." 

"B-But, sh-she's…she is a–" Araminta stuttered.

"Daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett last I heard," Violet informed her curtly, the threatening tone having yet to disappear. "And I think, for the benefit of your dwindling reputation, Araminta, that you would be best to remember that." 

Araminta was silent, stuck glaring at Violet, who only raised a dark brow back at her as the seconds ticked by.

"Right?" she added, slowly. 

After a few additional seconds of silence, Araminta nodded. "Fine," she muttered at her, before glaring at Sophie. "Don't even think about returning to Penwood House. You are no longer welcome there."

"I wasn't welcomed there, to begin with," Sophie quietly retorted back. 

"And she certainly has no need to go there, ever again," Violet said to Araminta. "I'd say it was good seeing you, but we both know that would be a lie. Good day, Lady Penwood."

And with that, his mother slammed the carriage door in the countess's stunned, furious face, before turning back towards the pair and smiling. "Well, I believe that settles it. I suppose your brother and I will have to get a special license. Won't we?" 

"Have I told you how wonderful of a mother you are?" Benedict smiled. 

"Not today, you haven't," his mother replied with a smile of her own. 

Benedict leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you." 

"It was no issue, sweetheart," Violet replied. "Now, I need to get in contact with the archbishop. If you would both excuse me." 

She quickly departed back into Number 5, with John following close behind, returning to his place by the front door, leaving the pair to watch the Penwood carriage pass by, the cracking of reins and whining of horses before it raced away. Araminta was glowering as she sat within, not daring to glance out the window towards them as the carriage set off. Once it had disappeared around the corner, Benedict glanced back towards Sophie, finding her watching the road with a sullen, anxious look gracing her perfect features.

"What's wrong?" he asked her gently, concerned. 

"You really want this?" she asked him, hesitantly. "To marry me."

"Of course, I do," he told her. 

"You're better off without me," Sophie told him with a sigh. 

Benedict slipped his hand in with hers, stepping closer to her. "I'll be the judge of that."

She gave him a look, her head tilting to the side as her eyes grew sad. "You barely know me."

He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. "I learned enough about you that night to know I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he told her, his breath tickling over the skin of her fingers. He smiled. "And if you're that worried, we'll at least have three days to get to know each other better. My mother is an expert at getting special licenses."

“Three days?” Sophie eyes’ almost bugged out of her skull.

He only chuckled. “Well, the announcement was already made. And the less time I have to wait, the better. I don’t believe we need to wait for the banns to be read. Do you?”

Sophie smiled back at him, shaking her head. Slowly, but the corners of her lips pulled upwards eventually. A soft pink hue developed over her cheeks and nose as she blushed. God, she was beautiful. 

He pulled her close, linking his arm with hers. "Come. Let's introduce you to everyone else," Benedict told her. "I can finally rub it in their faces that you are in fact very much real, and that I didn't imagine you. It will be quite the surprise for them." 

After a moment of lingering hesitance, Sophie linked her arm with him, allowing him to escort her up the front steps and to a far better future than what had once been. Neither one noticing the smile Footman John had as he watched them head inside. 

While this writer was certainly surprised to hear about the sudden marriage announcement between Mr. Benedict Bridgerton and a young Miss Sophia Beckett, it appears the couple are so helplessly in love they just could not wait to marry.

This author had heard whispers from Kent of a young ward catching the eye of the eligible second Bridgerton son, but it was a genuine mistake of mine to not investigate it further. You all must forgive me for not reporting it to you sooner, I've just never been interested in gossip from the county. It's always so dreadfully boring the news that comes from there.

Let me at least give my many blessings to the happy couple, and best of luck with the nuptials. Many, including yours truly, are ever so interested in knowing how they met.

But alas, we'll all just have to wait until they return from the honeymoon to learn that story.

– Lady Whistledown Reports

| The Day Before the Announcement |

John knew it was a mistake. Coming here. 

He really needed to stop involving himself in the lives of his employers. It was getting out of hand. 

But Eloise had begged him to deliver one last letter for her. A final apology was written in the envelope he held clasped in his hand, so she finally ceased caring for Theo, the printer's assistant. He had no idea if it was a good idea if it would help, but he liked Eloise. As brash as she could get with him, she did bring amusement, and he'd felt sorry for how Whistledown had treated her recently. 

He'd helped her before. That's why she asked him. 

As he entered the printer's shop, John was forced to wait in line behind another scrawny-looking man, who was currently speaking with the shop owner. 

"My employer wishes for it to go out tomorrow," the man told him.

"It will cost extra," the shop owner grunted as he skimmed over the small piece of paper. He then scoffed. "What's this? The third marriage announcement from the Bridgertons in the past year? I thought that Viscount was already married?" 

John froze, immediately on alert at the mention of his employer's name, and then frowned as he thought over the information he'd heard. A marriage announcement? Not one of the unmarried Bridgertons were engaged. And Lord Bridgerton had only just returned from his honeymoon a few months ago. The man in front of him was certainly not employed in the house either, John would have recognized him. 

"Lady Penwood is willing to pay as much as you need," the man retorted, dropping a bag of coin on the counter. "Just get it out tonight, or she'll have my head and yours." 

John's frown deepened. Lady Penwood was a name he hadn't heard in years but one he knew always came with trouble. His recent interaction with her stepdaughter, Sophie, had confirmed the suspicions he'd held towards her since the moment his father's old employer had returned to Penwood Park with her. 

The shop owner pulled open the small pouch in front of him, giving a quick count of what he could see, and nodded. "Alright. I can get it printed out tonight and sent out in the morning run." He then looked over his shoulder and shouted. "Theo! Get over here!"  

The other man nodded his thanks before turning to hastily depart the shop. John confirmed he was undoubtedly not another footman or employee in the Bridgerton house as the man passed him by. Meaning he had to work for Lady Penwood. 

And he'd been discussing a marriage announcement. To whom, John had no idea, but he knew it was probably with Lady Penwood's eldest and more favored daughter, Rosamund. A woman John wouldn't wish on any man. 

"Get this note sent up for print, and fast, boy," the shop owner told Theo. "I'll be in the back if you need me. You can help the next customer before you get to work." 

Theo glanced towards John, eyes widening as he recognized him, while his employer disappeared further back into the shop. 

"John, isn't it?" Theo asked once they were alone. 

"What was that about the Bridgertons and a marriage announcement?" John demanded quickly, approaching the counter. "None of them are being courted right now, let alone engaged." 

His questioning led the young printer's assistant to read over the paper he'd been handed, eyes widening as he recognized the names himself.

"It says Benedict Bridgerton is marrying Rosamund Reilling," he told him, glancing back up. "Benedict is Eloise's older right?"

"Benedict isn't engaged," John informed him harshly, ignoring his question. He knew for a fact he wasn't about to marry. Unless he'd finally found the Lady in Silver, or Sophie Beckett as John had learned, but he would have known by now if he had. 

"I believe you," Theo replied softly. "But why would someone do this?"

"To force a marriage to prevent a scandal. It's one of the oldest tricks in the book," John replied, recalling how it had almost happened to the eldest Bridgerton daughter. "The man who was just here was employed by Lady Penwood, Miss Reiling's mother. She most likely wants to force an engagement for her own personal gain. You cannot allow that to be published." 

"John, I have a job to do," Theo retorted with a sigh. "If I don't put this in, I'll be let go." 

"But it's not true! Your boss is likelier to get stuck with a slander accusation if he publishes it. He'll be ruined," John argued. "You'll cause more harm than good by putting that in." 

"I won't lose my job," Theo shot back. "I'm sorry. I really am. I don't want to do this to Eloise's family either, but I've got people counting on me. My hands are tied. Unless you have a better idea, I'm putting this note in tonight." 

He opened his mouth to argue further, but John could not think of anything else. Of anything that would convince Theo to throw away the note. He'd been through enough himself, and losing his job, his only source of income would only add to that. 

Seeing he had nothing else to say, Theo sighed, telling him to have a good day before heading back towards the large printer to get it set up.

"Wait!" 

Theo turned to look at him.

"What if you change the name?" John asked.

Theo thought about it for a second before nodding. "If you have a name I can use instead, I'll probably be able to get away with that."

He did. He knew exactly which name to give. 

Oh, but she was going to kill him when she found out. And so were the Bridgertons.

But after the last conversation he'd had with her when he'd seen what had happened to her, John couldn't allow her to stay in that house any longer. And if he was right about what he'd learned from her and what he'd seen from Benedict, this may work out for the best. 

And, besides, it was better than being married to Rosamund Reiling. 

"Sophia. Put down Sophia Beckett. Here. Give it to me. I'll write it down for you."

[entamewitchlulu]

stardew valley but it's hamefura

I made these here and i think i saved some of them different sizes by accident so sorry they look crap lol.

aka if i could code i'd make this a stardew valley mod

Katarina is the farmer, ofc. She's the dumbass, airheaded farming enthusiast who wanders into stardew valley after inheriting a farm and starts fucking around with it.

Jeord and Alan would live in the house where Emily and Haley are in the original game. Jeord would be the mayor's assistant, while Alan is an aspiring musician. Jeord's heart events would involve you helping him out with various town festivals and events, while Alan's major heart event would be attending a private concert he puts on for you.

The best gifts for Jeord would probably be weird, exotic stuff like cactus fruit or void eggs, because he likes things that surprise him.

Alan's most loved gifts would be fruits, I think. Maybe strawberries.

Maria would live in the trailer where Penny lives in the original, with her mother. She'd be the quiet small town girl like Penny is, but instead of reading so much, she would spend most of her time baking, and probably works at the saloon at night.

Her heart events would involve cute, simple dates like picnics and going for walks in the woods. The best gifts for her would be baked goods like muffins and cookies, or ingredients like flour.

Keith would live in the house where Sam and Jodi are (Jodi would be Milidiana, and Kent would be Luigi. I think for the lols I would make Vincent be Katarina's preincarnation self as a kid). He would be an artist making pottery and sculptures, as a nod to his canon earth magic.

Heart events with him would involve shenanigans and things going comically wrong, but ending with funny and wholesome conclusions. Best gifts for him would be books, clay, and artifacts.

Mary lives in the house where Alex is in canon. She is an avid gardener and maintains most of the flower displays around the town. Her heart events would start off a bit antagonistic, maybe even a little competitive, but then she turns her headstrong nature towards being in love with you instead.

Best gifts for her would be flowers!

Sophia and Nicol live up on the mountain where Robin's family is in the original game. Instead of a lab, the Ascart family has a massive library where their father is a historian and a writer. Though it doesn't make sense, we do still need a carpenter so their mother is still a carpenter. Nicol helps his father with his research and works at the museum, while Sophia spends most of her time reading at the family's personal library, at the museum library, or under trees around the town.

Nicol's heart events would be a little harder to get, but they would be very soft and sweet, while Sophia's would revolve around reading books together or playacting fun stories.

Best gifts for Nicol would be tea and coffee, while best gifts for Sophia are books.

I have ideas for who I'd replace the others with too but not really going to get into it right now. I just wanted to do the main love interest.

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura Pirates: Geordo Route Chapter 3 (Part 1)

All of the summaries I have written so far are available in the Hamefura Pirates Summary Index.

A Brief Escape (Part 1)

Geordo's POV

Geordo remembers how Katarina has brought colors to his grey world.

Katarina's POV

When Katarina and Geordo are about to head back to the party venue, they feel a big vibration. Katarina loses her balance, and Geordo catches her before she falls.

Katarina wonders what has caused the vibration. Geordo doesn't know, but he doesn't think it is something minor. He asks Katarina to stay there while he goes to check the situation. Katarina refuses because she feels that she can't let anything happen to Geordo since he is a royal. They argue a little about who should be the one to check the situation.

Geordo suddenly turns his head towards the door, which is wide open. He has heard a commotion and other unusual sounds. He doesn't know anything about the situation, so leaving Katarina alone would actually be more dangerous. He finally agrees to let Katarina go with him. He also asks her not to separate from him.

Geordo and Katarina carefully move towards the party venue. Katarina wants to join the others fast. Looking around him, Geordo deduces that the vibration wasn't caused by a hole opening in the ship. It is "the other possibility."

Just before they reach the party venue, Geordo suddenly stops and asks Katarina to step back and stay quiet. Following Geordo's gaze, Katarina strains her eyes towards the end of the corridor. She can see nobles running about and screaming through the slight door opening. The nobles are chased by dangerous-looking people holding guns.

Geordo guesses that pirates are attacking the ship. Katarina is shocked upon hearing the word "pirates." From this situation, Geordo judges that they should probably leave the place. He takes Katarina's hand, and they start running.

While running, Katarina feels like she has heard the word "pirates" just recently. Then she finally remembers. In the dream she had just before the trip, Acchan read from the Fortune Lover fan book about a scene where the ship transporting Katarina during her exile was attacked by pirates and then sunk. Katarina panics, wondering if that doom end is unfolding at the moment.

Mental Meeting

The Katarinas are completely panicked.

Studious Katarina asserts that they have safely reached the friendship ending, which means there shouldn't be any more doom end awaiting them.

Happy Katarina deduces that this incident should not be related to the game then.

Shy Katarina still thinks that a pirate attack is a strange coincidence.

Fearless Katarina wonders if Katarina might not be doomed in the friendship ending too.

Studious Katarina thinks new doom flags have appeared because they have changed the course of the game.

Fearless Katarina thinks they should beat the pirates to avoid their doom.

Shy Katarina brings to attention that they are powerless against pirates since they have no weapon and can't use Earth Bump on a ship.

Happy Katarina thinks they should be able to manage since they have Geordo with them.

Studious Katarina reminds everyone that they are supposed to be doomed on Geordo's route, which means staying with him may be dangerous if the game is really unfolding. They should probably keep their distance from him as much as possible and stay with people unrelated to their doom.

Shy Katarina thinks they will meet a different doom end if they deal with the pirates alone.

Happy Katarina suggests they stay with Sophia and Mary and form a rival characters coalition.

After discussion, the Katarinas must decide whether to:

Choice 1: Keep their distance from Geordo as much as possible Choice 2: Stay with Sophia and Mary

Katarina's POV

Still running, Katarina remembers that everyone might be currently facing the pirates at the party venue. As she is shyly asking Geordo whether they can go back, he suddenly shouts at her to duck. Geordo pushes her down, and just after, she hears a gunfire and a vase shattering.

While Katarina recovers from the shock, a man looking like a pirate (Silva) walks over and aims a gun at them. The man grins since he has been searching for "the princey boy and the ducal missy." He advises them not to move: his gun is the real deal, and the shot earlier was a warning. He also adds that they can't get away from him since they're on a ship. Like this, Geordo and Katarina are taken back to the party venue.

There, Katarina meets back with her friends and is relieved to see they're alright. She overhears the pirates confirm that "the number of passengers matches".

Geordo asks everyone if they're injured. Alan confirms they're not. When Alan asks in turn about Katarina and him, Geordo replies they're not injured either since they had no opportunity to fight back with a gun aimed at them. Nicol is glad they're alright, but Alan is not surprised, given how the pirates have been acting. Geordo and Katarina are confused. Nicol explains that the pirates haven't hurt a single passenger, they've also made sure to disarm the security guards before fighting them back, and they'd rather fight barehanded despite carrying guns and swords. The pirates act as if they want to reduce casualties to a minimum.

Geordo notices that the Queedian nobles are nowhere in sight. Mary explains that they have been taken to a different location for some reason. Geordo doesn't understand why the pirates would separate the Sorcerian and Queedian nobles.

Katarina notices that the food on the buffet has been left untouched, and she feels sad about the waste. As she ponders whether she should try to eat them herself, Geordo stops her and cautions her to watch her moves since the pirates have their eyes on them. Katarina sadly reconsiders, hoping that the pirates will eat the food.

Alan feels uneasy about the situation since the Vinculum is considered a Sorcerian ship. If any Queedians were to lose their lives here, Sorcier would be held responsible. It would then become a diplomatic issue.

Silva orders his men to divide the Sorcierian nobles into small groups and put them in rooms. Hearing this, Katarina fears she might get separated from everyone and grasps Sophia and Maria's hands. Geordo and the others stand in front of them, glaring at the pirates.

Silva approaches them. Geordo glaringly asks him what he is planning to do to them. Silva replies that he will just have them be quiet in rooms. The two royals, the prime minister's family, high-ranking nobles' daughters and sons, and the Wielder of Light will be kept together since they're valuable hostages. Upon hearing "Wielder of Light," Maria shrieks, and her shoulders tremble. Katarina wonders if the pirates might be targetting Maria, so she protectively stands in front of her and glares at Silva menacingly.

Silva seems well-informed about them, so Geordo figures that he didn't randomly attack their ship. He asks him who he is. Silva introduces himself: he is the captain of the Weiss Pirates, and he is known as "the White Darkness Devil." His eyes are shining purple. Geordo and Katarina are surprised by his identity, while the nobles are completely panicked. After all, the rumor says anyone who sees his eyes won't see them twice.

Silva reminds everyone that they can't get away from him since they're on a ship. Then Katarina and the others are taken away.

[g-raynard]

MARION : In the business world, I hear many women complain about the patriarchal structure they're in, and very often it's a woman who is the worst patriarch. A woman who is driven to perfection can be harder to work for than a man. She can be very cruel to others and just as cruel to herself.

I have women working with me who call themselves feminists, trying very hard to find their femininity. They have university jobs or are working toward Ph.D.s where they are forced by the structure to repress the feminine. Because they are on the cutting edge, they are.working so hard they are just plain workaholics.

The irony is that they are talking reverently about the feminine and yet they are killing her. They dream of being raped. Their own patriarchal principle is raping their own little girl. Then they break down with candida or some other disease where the immune system turns against them and says, in effect, "You've got to care for your femininity."

QUESTION : It seems that a feminist perspective is not always in line with the feminine.

Marion: Well, I find it really sad because sometimes I have lectured and I've been talking, as I am now, about women who are trapped in a patriarchal construct. They are not in touch with their own feeling values. They don't know what they, as women, need or want. Then a woman gets up and argues in a strident voice that is not related to her body and becomes the personification of everything I've been talking about.

It's just a rant. Her poor body is frightened and shaking. It's not in connection with her head at all. I've tried to dialogue with such women, but they walk out, literally; they won't even relate enough to dialogue the point they've made and they can't receive what I've said.

If there is no trust and no receiving, there is no feminine principle operating. Yes, the terrible irony is that people talk about the feminine principle and they read their notes and talk as fast as they can and all the time the body is wound up in knots.

What they are is the very opposite of what is coming out of their lips. They use a feminine language but they've still got the patriarchal way of thinking. I think it is quite clear that the patriarchy is in its last throes, but we are not nearly through it yet.

From a larger perspective, the breakdown of the immune system in the microcosm, the human body, is mirroring what is happening in the macrocosm, the earth. The immune system of the macrocosm is breaking down. It can't help its trees, it can't help its biosphere. And anorexia!

So many addictions compensate the extreme of the perfectionist ethic, the opposite of feminine wisdom. The system is breaking down and people can't take it. They say, "If this is what life's about, I'm not interested." Some of them think that blowing up another country is the answer.

We're on the tail end of the patriarchy. What I think is going on is the emergence of the Great Goddess, the feminine side of God. I call her Sophia.

I have enough faith in the evolution of consciousness to believe that, just as in their personal life people don't usually bother with the feminine principle unless they are forced to through some illness, so the same thing's happening on the planetour earth is sick.

Fear is going to force us to allow the Goddess in. No, she is forcing her way in whether we like her or not. There has never been feminine consciousness on the planet. 

[insomniac-jay]

DC OC | Reading List Pt.2

Sophia Evangelista | Angeknight

Angeknight: Between Heaven and Hell - Sophia's debut series that follows her and her team the Sun Angels on their mission to destroy the Fallen Angel Ophiel and her legion of darkness.

Pandora - Major supporting character. Elyon is both Sophia's ward and sidekick before being handed off to the newest Teen Titans.

Sol - Sophia is also a major supporting character in Solana's solo series as her mentor.

Angeknight: Schism - The longest series of Sophia's publication history at over 100 volumes long. Schism follows Sophia having to deal with splitting factions of Angels in Heaven, major changes in her work and personal lives, and learning secrets about her family.

Angeknight: Reformation - As Titans Academy's new guidance counselor, Sophia works hard to push the rowdy children in the right direction. However, she must answer Heaven's call again after receiving a disturbing vision.

Angeknight & Cheshire - A oneshot comic that follows Sophia and Jade tracking down the person who put a hit out on both of them. It takes place shortly after Reformation.

Knights of Titania: Faith, Trust, and Fairy Dust - She appears as a major supporting character. Sophia's one of the group's mentors despite not being a member of the Titans. This is her last appearance under her Angeknight name.

Isis - Sophia's Outsiders (2003) era. Sophia retires Angeknight and moves back to Star City for a fresh start. She forms a new team called the Calvary under a new codename: Isis.

Archangel - An Elseworld story where Sophia joins Team Arrow and becomes the White Arrow then Archangel.

Isis: Champion of Bana-Mighdall - Another alternate universe where Sophia never becomes a Seraphim, instead the champion of the Bana. Various team ups include Artemis, Niobe, Yara, and Donna Troy.

Marietta Brooks | Glamor

Glamor - Marietta's debut. The covers of each volume are references to different album covers of black femme pop singers.

Glamor: All That Glitters - A few years after her debut series, Marietta's reign hasn't stopped as she takes on Hollywood. Before that can happen, a person from her family's past threatens to put out her star.

Glamor: Back in Black - Marietta retires from the world of vigilante crime fighting and into her new position: award winning actress, singer, wife, and mother. That is until a person from her past as Glamor comes back with news so devastating, it forces her to don her costume one last time.

Venus Parks | Star Sapphire

Star Sapphire - Venus's debut. From world famous DJ to intergalactic warrior, Venus's life is full of twists and turns. As a Star Sapphire, it's her duty to restore love to the universe; but sometimes she needs a little love herself.

Star Sapphire: Ring of Light - Venus sought out by the queen of an alien planet to find and return a stolen artifact called the Ring of Light. Venus is up to the task only for the search to be more difficult than she expected. Having no other options, she's forced to team up with the newest Red Lantern, Furiosa.

Star Sapphire: City of Diamond - Who is the Twilight Knight; and why do they want her ring? That's a question Venus wants answered after a mysterious masked figure attacks her while returning to Earth. Teaming up with fellow Star Sapphire, Pepper Jackson, their search takes them to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, to a whole other solar system.

Star Sapphire: Trifecta - During an investigation into illegal weapons trafficking back on Earth, Venus crosses paths with Larissa and a new Green Lantern called Emerald Ranger. They join forces to create Trifecta, a team made up of the three lanterns.

Red Hood and the Outlaws - Venus joins the Outlaws as an ally before becoming a full member.

Boombox - After an incident with her Star Sapphire ring, Venus temporarily retires the mantle and begins to build a new one. Donning a mecha suit made of radio devices, Venus debuts as her new hero persona, Boombox.

Daliah Yukimura | Snow

Snow - Daliah's debut series that features her first forays into being the local superhero in her hometown of Happy Harbor.

Young Justice: Of Ice Queens and Sun Goddesses - Daliah's Young Justice debut. At the request of Superboy, Daliah joins the team alongside another new member, Solana Banks.

Snow & Arrowette - Mini series that follows Daliah and her childhood friend Cissie as a duo; before either of them joined Young Justice. A highlight of this miniseries is the family reunion from hell and the introduction of the Yukimura clan.

Snow & Crysticle - Another miniseries featuring Camryn, Daliah's older sister and member of the Watchers. Camryn has returned home for the summer which means sisterly fun and crime fighting.

Jawbreakers - Now in college and on her way to becoming a professional figure skater, Daliah moves to San Francisco with Solana as roommates. She puts her superhero career to the side to keep up her training. Eventually, she joins the newly formed Jawbreakers.

Justice Girls - An Elseworld story where Cassie breaks off from Young Justice to form her own team, the Justice Girls.

@mayameanderings @punkeropercyjackson @floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid

[dude1818]

The Glass Sentence

Went on vacation last week, which means plenty of time to read on the flight. On the way out, I read The Glass Sentence by S. E. Grove, the first book in The Mapmaker's Trilogy. The Goodreads synopsis recommended it for fans for His Dark Materials, but I would go as far as to call it a clone (although without the fun animals). That's not necessarily a bad thing, although it makes comparison unavoidable

The setting is an alternate history that forked from our own when history itself broke. The Earth exploded and reassembled itself with fragments throughout time: the protagonist is from 19th century Boston, Canada has fallen to the prehistoric Ice Age, the Caribbean is in the Golden Age of Piracy, and Mexico and the western US are an amalgamation of anywhen from 500 to 2500 CE. It's a fascinating premise, and I was hoping for a sci-fi version of HDM

The plot is that Sophia (14) comes from a family of great explorers and cartographers. When her uncle is kidnapped by a cult that wants to reforge the world into their timeline of origin, she and her new friend from the West have to take his special glass map to an old acquaintance in Mexico. Along the way, they join a pirate crew who get them across the Gulf and into the palace at Mexico City, while the cult chases them down. Turns out, the Ice Age to the south is actually from a future snowball Earth, and Sophia has to somehow stop its rapid spread north

Pretty early on, we were introduced to the Macguffins of this world, which are weird maps. Clay, cloth, glass, metal, water maps, only the Avatar can read all five. The gimmick is that they all encode human memories somehow, and reading them makes you "remember" various attributes of the location they describe. It was weird, but I guess we can chalk it up to possible future tech and being the one weird thing

But then halfway through the book we get to Mexico, and it turns out there's a whole caste system about people who have plants growing from their bodies and people who have metal bones. Like what the fuck. HDM pulled off stuff like witches and the underworld by establishing them as being weird and exotic to Lyra, but she knew they existed as part of her world. Here, it felt like a complete genre shift out of nowhere. It wasn't until literally the day after I finished reading the book and was complaining to my dad about that twist that I realized it was supposed to be deep foreshadowing of the sci-fi twist in the 11th hour. I had just thrown up my hands and accepted that the story had magic now, because it hadn't established itself as a book where I'm expected to be able to figure out what the twist is

Other than that it was fine. Obviously it's YA, but it felt more YA than HDM, or at least it clicked with me less. Hard to give it a fair shake while I'm still in the middle of the HDM sequel trilogy. I do want to know more about this world, and while the plot beats are fairly predictable, I'm still going to give the rest of the trilogy a shot

The plant/metal twist I didn't get:

Much later after we learned about the plant and metal caste system in Mexico City, the royal botanist examines some soil samples from a new time period that appeared. Planting a seed in it causes the plant to rapidly grow, and it has metal roots. He tries to use that soil to regrow his own wooden leg, but it grows back as metal instead

Later they're escaping through caverns under the palace, and the botanist drops seeds along the path. They instantly grow into metal-rooted trees. We also know that in the future ice age realm, people had invented artificial soils that allowed them to plant plants through the ice and rock of their world. We were supposed to realize this meant the caverns were from that era (which was later explained as being why they survived when the glaciers reached them)

The big twist is that since this artificial soil lay under the city, people who were born and raised after time broke were exposed to the soil as they grew, which is why they had pieces of plant or metal in their bodies. I have no idea how you were supposed to solve that mystery when there was no indication there was a mystery to solve in the first place!

[anitaawhitney]

Some of my 4 favourite lines in 'The Tortured Poets Department'

Fortnight

All of this to say, I hope you're okay But you're the reason And no one here's to blame But what about your quiet treason?

The Tortured Poets Department

But you're in self-sabotage mode Throwing spikes down on the road But I've seen this episode and still love the show Who else decodes you?

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Put me back on my shelf But first, pull the string And I'll tell you that he runs Because he loves me (He loves me)

Down Bad

In a field in my same old town That somehow seems so hollow now They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about The existence of you

So Long, London

And you say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it My white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment And my friends said it isn’t right to be scared Every day of a love affair, every breath feels like rarest air

But Daddy, I Love Him

I'd rather burn my whole life down Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin' I'll tell you something about my good name It's mine alone to disgrace

Fresh Out The Slammer

Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter He was with her in dreams Gray and blue and fights and tunnels Handcuffed to the spell I was under

Florida!!!

Little did you know your home's really only A town you're just a guest in So you work your life away just to pay For a time-share down in Destin

Guilty as Sin?

I hadn't heard it in a while My boredom's bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry?

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

So tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is? Then say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did? I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

They shook their heads saying, "God, help her" when I told them he's my man

But your good lord didn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really, I can (No, really, I can) Woah, maybe I can't

loml

What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I'm combing through the braids of lies I'll never leave, never mind

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

I can hold my breath I've been doing it since he left I keep finding his things in drawers Crucial evidence, I didn't imagine the whole thing

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Were you a sleeper cell spy? In fifty years will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did it And I'll say, "Good riddance"

The Alchemy

Hey, you, what if I told you we'rе cool? That child's play back in school Is forgiven under my rule I haven't come around in so long

Clara Bow

Only when your girlish glow flickers just so Do they let you know It’s hell on Earth to be heavenly Them's the breaks, they don't come gently

The Black Dog

I am someone who until recent events You shared your secrets with And your location, you forgot to turn it off And so I watch as you walk

imgonnagetyouback

And I'll tell you one thing, honey I can take the upper hand and touch your body Flip the script and leave you like a dumb house party Or I might just love you 'til the end

The Albatross

"One less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen" Locked me up in towers But I'd visit in your dreams And they tried to warn you about me

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules All to outrun my desertion of you And you just watched it

How Did It End

Guess who we ran into at the shops? Walking in circles like she was lost Didn't you hear? They called it all off

So High School

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two Get my car door, isn't that sweet?

I Hate It Here

Secret gardens in my mind People need a key to get to The only one is mine I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child

thanK you aIMee

And it wasn't a fair fight, or a clean kill Each time that Aimee stomped across my grave And then she wrote headlines In the local paper, laughing at each baby step I'd take

I Look in People’s Windows

I look in people’s windows In case you’re at their table What if your eyes looked up and met mine One more time

The Prophecy

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen A greater woman stays cool But I howl like a wolf at the moon And I look unstable

Cassandra

They all said nothing Blood’s thick but nothing like a payroll Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul You can mark my words that I said it first

Peter

Once found us beguiling She said she was trying Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did

The Bolter

But as she was leaving It felt like breathing All her fuckin' lives Flashed before her eyes

Robin

The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean You’ll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline But now, we’ll curtail your curiosity In sweetness

The Manuscript

The only thing that’s left is the manuscript One last souvenir from my trip to your shores Now and then I re-read the manuscript But the story isn’t mine anymore

[witchhatproductions]

Witch Hat News #1: Weird Stories from Space

This is an archived version of our microfiction newsletter! You can read along on our tumblr, or subscribe here.

Hi there! Do you remember signing up to some newsletter from someone you kinda know on twitter? That's me. I'm the newsletter, and I'm here to letter you some news.

For real, though, I have a lot to say about this newsletter. If you know me (I'm Samantha Calthrop, by the way, not a sentient email, hi) then you probably know that I make comics and TTRPGs, which are met with critical acclaim by my extensive audience of almost nobody. I spent my teens in fandom spaces and my early twenties making standalone games. 

In other words, I make things, and I put them online, and not a lot of people see them. C'est la vie.

In recent years, I've been drifting increasingly away from social media, and towards real-world creative spaces. I'm fortunate enough to have several social outlets for my art. Between my local comics group, my university, and my small group of mutuals in Irish journo twitter, I feel accomplished enough to be proud regardless of how many Instagram followers I have. (It's 151, much like the original Pokédex.) 

That's the problem with the Internet. Even in the coolest and most supportive rings of Twitter and Tumblr there is nothing to achieve but online fame, which has been famously awful for everyone who has ever obtained it. (I imagine social media to be divided into rings, much like the rings of hell in Dante's Inferno.) There are very few spaces online that feel personal and contained, because by nature the internet is large and completely impersonal. 

The consequence is that being an up-and-coming creator is like shouting into the void, except the void has a handful of your confused friends and relations in it, some of whom are giving you the thumbs up.

I was thinking about the lack of digital spaces for exploring any kind of fiction that isn't short stories or published novels, and how many cool things have been made by people I know, which nobody ever sees. I thought, man, I wish somebody would start a newsletter about it or something. Then I realised that I was somebody, and I already had a creative label which I'd been using to publish things already. Then I turned to Luke Sophia and said, "Hey, we're starting a newsletter", and wrote this before I could be stopped.  

So I guess this newsletter seeks to fill that missing niche; a small, personal space that celebrates obscure creative projects. We're starting out primarily with creators that we know already - friends, past collaborators, and things we're already fans of. That means right now, it's mainly webcomics, podcasts, TTRPGS, and other types of online storytelling.

To that end, here's your bimonthly dose of local talent. By coincidence, all these stories are set in space, and all of them have a wonderfully weird take on the sci-fi genre. Check it out:

Neokosmos is about the horror of being raised by people you don't understand. This series of illustrated sci-fi stories follow the last living humans, who are being raised in captivity many years after the destruction of the Earth. Neokosmos is a deeply beautiful, deeply weird, and deeply visceral story about love, cruelty, and family between completely different alien species. The first book made me realise I like speculative sci-fi. The second book made me sit on my bed, put my head in my hands, and think about how I spent my early twenties. I can't recommend it enough. Neokosmos is in open beta right now, and is available to read for free online.

Chain of Being is a delightfully strange eldritch-horror-ish audio drama by Cai Gwilym Pritchard. It's set in a mystic sci-fi universe with deep folkloric roots, and it's both written and performed unlike any other podcast I've come across. I recommend listening with headphones just for the editing. Chain of Being is also casting voice actors for Season 2 right now - more info here. They're paid roles, and actors with non-standard podcast accents are encouraged to apply.

Fetch Quest by @toonlynnk is a silly fantasy adventure in a spaceship universe. Unambitious Hugh the human is happy to settle for an NPC career and a lifetime of mediocrity, but is instead dragged into the life of an adventurer-for-hire. A webcomic set in a video game universe, and is promising to be the kind of PG comedy adventure that ends up wrenching your guts out, in the style of Owl House and Amphibia. 

Your project here. Do you make art of any kind - visual, written, performed? Are you starting a project or recruiting co-creators? We want to hear from you! Email us at contact@witchhatproductions.com. A proper submission procedure will be created if needed, but for now, it's open season - show us anything. Fire away.

That's it for now. All going well, I'll see you in a few weeks!

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death's Doorstep (pt 20/?)

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Word Count: 940

Rating: Teen

Pairings: None in this part (mentioned Karrot Kings)

Warning: shady government shit, implied/referenced child abuse, references to past murder, allusions to kidnapping

Enter our new antagonist: Hazel Agon

~~~START~~~

As the Director of the MAA (Metahuman Affairs Agency) Dr. Hazel Agon had many responsibilities; she oversaw the SSP, she had to be well briefed on the supervillains running amok in her city, and she was intimately involved with the R&D department (she used to head the department before taking over the Agency, and  she still stopped by at the end of stressful days in order to blow off steam). In short, she was a very busy and very powerful woman with a very low tolerance for unrulies who added undue amounts of pressure to her job.  

Unrulies like the fugitive Knightcaster — real name: Virgil Sanders, age: 26 — who had robbed the government of millions of dollars' worth of assets, and the vigilante Sandman — real name: unknown, age: unknown — who was a public menace.  

Sandman would be easy. As far as anyone at the Agency could tell, she worked alone and had limited access to resources that even low-ranking supervillains possessed. After months of her continued interference, and despite how careful her movements were, MAA agents were close to tracking down her real identity.  

Knightcaster on the other hand… 

Knightcaster had all but dropped off the face of the earth. He hadn’t gone home to his fathers’ house in Gainesville Florida — she had Thomas and Nico Flores-Sanders under constant surveillance — and no one had managed to find any credible sighting of him anywhere else either. It was like he’d just dropped off the face of the earth! 

And even more annoying, there hadn’t been any sign of his son, Patton Sanders. Knightcaster was spoiled goods, and if he were to be recovered, he likely would not be good for anything other than enacting the Martyr Protocol, but Patton was young, and had quite a bit of meta-potential — Agent Sophia DuPont had reported some promising results to preliminary meta-testing. If he were to be recovered soon, he might be easily transplanted into a more structured and constructive household without too much fuss.  

Perhaps Hazel would even take in the small child herself, after all, she’d always had a soft spot for children. It really was too bad most of them didn’t make it out of R&D fully intact.  

“Director Agon!” Agent Smolet burst suddenly into Hazel’s office, snapping the Director out of her thoughts.  

Hazel sent him her most withering stare, instantly cowing him.  

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said, bowing his head respectfully as he held out a manila folder for her to take. “But we’ve found Sandman.” 

“Really?” Hazel purred, snatching the folder from him and pursuing it quickly.  

“Remelda Casper, seventeen-year-old junior at Madison High School,” Agent Smolet recited redundantly as Director Agon read the exact same thing in the file. “Her parents are Robert Casper and Julieta Sanchez, divorced. Neither have ever shown up on our radar being meta-potential, nor had Ms. Sanchez’s current husband, Michael Tucker.” 

“Robert and Michael?” Hazel mused, mostly to herself. “What will her third husband’s name be? John?” 

“Fourth, ma’am,” Smolet interrupted. He flinched slightly when Hazel turned her gaze on him but continued in a small voice. “Mr. Casper was her second husband, and Mr. Tucker is her third… so John would be her-her fourth…” 

By the time Smolet finally petered off, he was shaking like a leaf. Internally, Hazel smirked at the blatant fear; externally, however, she remained coldly neutral.  

“Have Harper send a recruiter to Madison High School,” Director Agon ordered, causing Smolet to snap to attention. “If she’s willing to come above board and register with us, then I see no reason why we can’t welcome Miss Casper into the fold. And if she isn’t… Well, it’s about time we remind the public about the dangers of vigilantism, don’t you think, Smolet?” 

“Yes ma’am,” Smolet agreed before scuttling out of her office as quickly as he could.  

As soon as he was gone, Hazel picked up her phone and called her secretary.  

“Yes ma’am?” Rodgers answered. Hazel could see him straighten up through the one-way mirror that made up the far wall of her office.  

“Have someone administer Kipper-Wang meta-potential tests to Julieta Sanchez and Robert Casper as soon as possible,” she ordered. “And make sure it’s inconspicuous, we don’t need the general public feeling uneasy about Big Brother.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Hazel hung up without another word and watched as Rodgers shifted his attention to his computer monitor before turning her own attention to Remelda's file.  

Remelda was a smart girl — straight A’s, perfect attendance, member of her school’s chemistry club. She would make a very valuable asset to the Agency if she registered — not quite as valuable as Patton Sanders in terms of loyalty and potential, but equal at least to Knightcaster, and much more valuable than Atlas, reckless hothead that he was. 

In a way, it was almost a relief for Knightcaster to have put him down. The experimental serum that had given Atlas his powers in the first place was proving to be growing more and more unstable over time, and it was only a matter of time before the combination of his already aggressive and volatile personality, and the degenerating effects of the serum turned him into an uncontrollable weapon of pure destruction. This, of course, would have meant an awful lot of paperwork and late nights for Hazel, and potentially a huge blow to the Agency if his rampage had been public. 

But Remelda’s powers, as far as Hazel knew, were genetic, and therefore infinitely more stable than any lab-grown powers the R&D department had ever produced. 

Yes, Remelda would be quite an asset if she registered, and quite a headache if she didn’t.  

~~~END~~~

I’m surprised I was able to get this out in January considering my brain decided to take the first half of the month off, but here it is, the start of section 3

My current outline has section 3 being 10 chapters long, but considering it was 9 a few days ago and then I added a chapter between this one and what was supposed to be the next one, I’m guessing it’ll be about 12-15 chapters when all is said and done (we’ve got a lot of cover in this section and I’m really excited about it)

This chapter btw takes place around 5 months after the last one, so Remy’s built a name for herself as a hero, but she’s still on that same school year.

I hope you all liked the name Dr. Hazel Agon because I think I’m very funny :P

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14