#violet he's proposed like 3 times so far

[reading-the-dragon-book]

Xaden: "Everyone assumes she'll wind up with you, but it's my last name she ends up wearing on her flight jacket in formation."

Dain: "But we don't have last names on our flight jackets."

Xaden: "And yet you get the fucking point."

The only person laughing more than Mira in this scene was me.

[ladythornofrivia]

Mr. Targaryen Will See You Now || (PT. 2)

Modern!Aemond x Reader (four parts)

warnings: (for the future chapters): sex, oral sex, loss of virginity, squirting, stalking, obsession, manipulation, reader being clueless, but not totally innocent, blackmail, p in v sex, blood kink, knife kink, gun kink, handcuff kink, bdsm, masturbation, fingering, cum play, tease, mommy issues.

a/n: now you’ve all been waiting for! Part 2! this time, the reader will be as his soon-to-be secretary. i went to the studio for a photoshoot. i won’t say why, but i’ll be announcing it around next year. stay tune for part 3.

You were thinking about him.

His offer.

It was the night where the decision made you toss and turn into your bed. A one chance in a lifetime, something that will change your life and status for good. Getting a steady job meant a steady source of income and societal actions in the higher system that Aemond Targaryen is in. Meaning challengers. Rules and expectations are higher, something that you’re not easy to strive to change pace or comfort zone. It wasn’t your ideal.

The source of all things common and strivers, you weren’t exactly the type to flip the switch on exact moment. A steady job in a steady life is enough. But what Aemond’s offered you says it all.

Risky.

Practical.

Stability.

Peace for bank account.

A high life devoid of privacy and self-recollection. A highly paced environment will not stop their time for you. You’re a slow turtle.

Your friend teased about how Aemond went stuck in your head. It wasn’t fair, at all. It wasn’t like Aemond ambushed you to say yes, but told you to contemplate of his proposal. How his gleaming violet hues pierced into your soul, begging and demanding all at once. The duality was simple enough for you to understand what kind of man he is.

A perfectionist.

Fumbling your mechanical pencil over and over as you studied the notes on your papers, stack after stack, followed by several energy drinks and stained coffee cups all over a once tidy desk. Horrifying as it sounds, you wished for a proper solution for a distraction to settle down permanently. Your friend hasn’t teased you for days, thank god for that, but you needed a second opinion.

But you didn’t want to call your parents because you chose to sever ties with them, not that anyone needs to know the detail, so you tried improvising a solution other than your friend or anyone else you know. You searched on Google, typing:

“How to make a right decision when some hot guy offered you a high-salary job?”, “How to relax after getting offered a job by a hot CEO?” “How to relax and forget for today after days of thinking about the CEO’s offer?”, “How to sleep properly after trying to distract yourself for days after the amount of torturous hours of endless teasing from a friend and a flashback?”

So far no answer came, just the ones where people often complain on the blog on how bosses are viciously toxic, others posted recordings of the bosses that eventually got fired, both boss and ex-worker. Some co-workers fucked the CEO all the way to the top, and others disposed others by any means necessary in a way of safety net.

Your head was reeling with ache and burn, as if someone crushed your skull and penetrated to a point where the pulse tightened, ready to implode. Spine landed back of your office chair, your head thrown back, mouth parted open and tired eyes closed, needing cold air. The break you took was finding your usual posture slouching and limping, as if you were floating in water. Your arms and back were shivering, and it felt good.

You hated wearing a damn big sweater. You thrashed, screamed for a short second, arms stretched and flung, hair tossed and turned, scrunchie loosened up. Then you were still, back to a limp form on a chair, not sitting like a proper lady with legs spread.

Staring at the white ceiling, you grumbled, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Maybe I should relax for now…too much caffeinated drinks doesn’t serve me enough purpose to stay focus on my final exams. Maybe a hottest shower would do the trick and forget my exams for now. And for tomorrow. Get a massage, and be naked for the night.

Thus, you stood up and left.

The phone rang.

Inwardly groaning, you read the number on your screen.

Unknown.

Eh, I’ll call in for the night.

Clicked your phone to silence, and hopped in naked into the shower. Or a bath that will make you fall asleep naked until the morning.

~~~

The phone rang three days later.

You fell asleep, not being as productive, laziness can be good once in a while.

But who the hell would try to call you first thing in the morning without a fresh cup of matcha latte as a today’s starter?

Yawning and stretching your limbs, cracking your spine, you did the best of your ability to be awake in the system. Relaxing and—

Shit.

I have 30 missed calls!!!!!

Who the hell keeps calling me?

It freaked you out, so you blocked the unknown caller.

A small sense of relief escaped from your parched lips. Drank a bottle of cold water to unwind the coils on your belly and went for a warm shower.

Days after break, you returned to your studies—after a long process of washing and scrubbing the mugs, thrown trashes of empty cans by the kitchen, and wiped surfaces on your desk. As a slow perfectionist, like art, it takes perfection. Not a crease or stain to see in plain sight. For the whole morning, with amount of lavender spray in the bedroom and replacement of new bedsheets from your sweat stain, and carpet vacuumed, everything must feel light and right. According to the website, changing bedsheets for every week. Not two weeks or three. Bacteria infested god knows what, you hated the idea of being sick. Even when sick, you still clean, but your friend insisted she’ll do the chores done in an instant, but you knew that your friend is efficient in her job, but she’s no expert with chores.

Lavender scent carried off on a cold air, you slumped back on the desk, starting over with a writing assignment from one class, chugging on a matcha latte, your phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

Again.

This time, you answered.

What could possibly go wrong?

Miss (Y/N).

“Hello,” you said, pausing. “Who’s this?”

“Have you thought about my offer?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand—you must have the wrong number.”

“You are wasting the benefit of my time and success, Miss (Y/N).”

Your spit choked back. “Sir—Mr. Targaryen. Yes, hello! How may I assist you?”

“Have you come to an important decision?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m still studying for my exams. I haven’t been able to sleep properly for days. I…” you paused again, treading the words wisely. “This is something I can’t miss. I have to graduate.”

You heard him sigh.

“There are no excuses, Miss (Y/N). It’s now or never.”

This time, you sighed, foot tapping in an uneven beat, boisterous and clumsy.

“I’ll give you another day to reconsider. But if you don’t answer my call, I’ll pass this offer to someone who will be more sufficient and quick in my service than you’ll ever be. I don’t think you’ll have what it takes to be in my company.”

Your heart leapt.

You bent forward, suspense caving in. “Ah, no, that’s not what I meant, sir—”

“I don’t think so. Not with your late response. I like my staff members to be as punctual, strictly on time. I could only excuse this once to those who are abnormally late. Anyone who shows up with punctuality meant they’ve got what it takes to be more potential regarding to future promotions.”

“I—First of all, how did you get this number?”

“We’ll meet again tonight around 9. Don’t silence your phone.”

And hang up without a second thought.

“What a fucking jackass,” you stated, and with anger rising, you took out on the scrubbing and dusting off furniture.

~~~

Hours later, you anticipated for the phone call, since you’ve done all the studying and cleaning without a hassle on being cranky—not a person disrupted you since your friend went out the whole day to god knows what she’s doing. Results concluded that a proper, lazy rest for three days has been helpful to late cranky hours.

Plopping on a couch with blank television staring back at your tired posture, you weren’t in the mood to watch romance or comedy, especially those characters who are acting like jerks at the first part. Maybe as a kid, you hated bad boys, when as a teen, you loved—you’re a die hard fan of bad boys, thanks to young adult romance novels. But as a grown woman, you’re unsure, but it’s clear-cut that you hated men who carried themselves in their attitude like a dumb child that’s required to be babied.

One man-child after another. It makes you think you wanted a flamethrower to burn, and eating boxes of truffles and a Starbucks drink, watching a whole building collapse to ashes.

The back of your head thumped onto the couch pillows, counting one to ten, more like counting sheep, but you knew it was a bad idea, so you ate heavy chunks of strawberry ice cream on a white ceramic bowl, thinking whether you should do a pros and cons list.

Shit, I made a total embarrassment of myself to a hot young CEO. Even when he did tell me to reconsider his proposal, there’s no way in hell he’ll promote me. Not with the plans I have, not with my delays. He’ll shoved it down on my throat by making me watch another lady settling a high score at the office, and him smirking at my direction. I had a feeling he wants me to be part of his company, it’s weird how he’s the first person—the first CEO—to beg for my existence and be part of a rescue team on his prestigious company. Almost like he’s been ready his whole life. No other CEO would do this; every CEO would think of middle class people as nobodies or a pile of trash. How did he get my number? I wish I know.

Wait, did I just say “hot”?

The phone rang, in a familiar tune.

Nearly tossing the bowl behind you, you settled on the coffee table and picked up the call.

“Miss (Y/N)?”

“Sir.”

“Have you come to make a decision?”

Good money, good pay, and peace for the bank account.

“I have.”

“Well?”

“What time should I be there for work?”

“8 AM. You’ll begin working here around 9.”

“Done.”

“I knew you’ll give in. Eventually.”

“Huh, persistent much?”

“Persistence is a good quality in a man.”

“Right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night’s rest.”

“Good night.”

You hang up and screamed into the nearest pillow you find.

~~~

Months later….

It’s been forever since you were welcome into the company by the CEO himself. Long story short, you got accepted, without a process of long interview and long wait for phone calls for a confirmation. Easy does it. New office, drinking cups of coffee by the fancy coffee machine and water dispenser and a fridge with ingredients and proper food—not a TV dinner. Most are healthy quality.

But it came with a cost.

You were now under training and supervision of your new boss, who won’t stop staring at you. Clearly he was still fuming of the last interactions he attempted through your phone, labeled as Unknown.

You understood why it was an unknown number. Privacy is a top priority for someone who is known in a local news article online and on social media. Most pictures on social media were focused on the other side of his family, the only time Aemond’s shown in the pictures was blurry.

The usual routine has routine, but one remained the same. You always tied your hair to an updo with a scrunchie.

Stacking and organizing the files and binders by name and number in order, after dusting off of his shelf and toss the useless files on a shredder machine. Whirring on the machine has gotten louder, but didn’t ease your anxiety from his ever watchful eyes. His nose somewhat flaring, and his hands kept opening and closing, attempting to stay tranquil by touching the fabric on his pants, sometimes the items on his large desk.

Aemond kept staring at you for as long as he could and you found yourself at a most vulnerable position. Everything was a mess, but thankfully all of his files are on his computer, including your laptop and Bluetooth headset and ergonomic pens, solely provided by the company, as you play fetch with the CEO, playing his do’s and don’t’s.

Day by day, each time you clocked into work mode, Aemond’s presence drew near. As if he was critiquing you through gaze.

“Why is Aemond staring at you? Have you done something to piss him off?” your co-worker asked.

“I had no clue. Is he always like this?”

“His face usually scowls to everyone, but he’s staring at you without blinking. Kinda freaks me out. Gives me the hibbie-jibbies.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you said in silence, knowing he has sharp ears he might fire you on the spot.

“Like he could hear us.”

“Shh! Would you keep it down!?”

“Anyway, I have to go. Oh, and, Mr. Targaryen wants to see you.”

The thing was, he always wanted to see you.

The past conversation went away as you tried to focus on the present.

Turning back again, and gathered the files Aemond needed for the next appointment. He didn’t need to go at the meeting. If he simply wanted to go, he would, but everything is convenient with advanced technology, online meetings have been a thing for today’s world. If he does want to show up at a mundane event, he would’ve done in a flash, and all eyes would be on him.

“Here are the papers that you requested, sir,” you uttered, low lashes fluttered towards him, hoping to release you from his sky-high office.

“This should be easy to handle with the indulgences of the client I’m working with. Awful man needs to be settled immediately.”

He flicked his wrist.

The screen on his computer brightened with an annoying tune. And deep, distorted voice on the other side of the screen.

You could only offer a short nod, not knowing what he meant. So you bowed and exited.

Finally free.

Without the dark hours, you were the only one left, aside from a janitor and couple security guards roaming the building to dismiss anyone who’s still resided at the office. The office hours are usually closed at 7:30 PM. But for this month, the boss’s notified the staff that they’re off around 5 PM. Aemond’s had been testing the work hours, based on New Zealand with a total of 6 hours of work instead of a regular 9-5. But not for the CEO.

There’s no rest for the wicked.

Finally, at the coffee lounge and a cafeteria, the last member of the cooking staff gave you two packs of cherry cheese danish and an empty cup for a caramelized coffee by the coffee machine standing nearby. You haven’t ate since the moment you stepped in at work. You were in the rush. Stomach twisted in pain now loosened from a good chunk of appetite stuffed into the mouth.

Sat by the ceramic bench, you hummed in delight, feeling like a warm hug, with a touch of caramelized coffee with cream powder. You haven’t had a good break since you were stuck in the room with him. A good coffee weighs the heaviness on your shoulders.

Suffocating.

With that, you emptied the food in your stomach and threw the cup and brown packets in the trash bin, and leaving the tray on top, striding forward to head back and grab your belongings and call it for tonight.

With a quiet office, all surrounded by sturdy walls and soundproof glass, you managed to relax, determined to go home.

The door shut in.

You turned and spotted Aemond locking the door.

“Sir,” you uttered, in question.

Without warning, he pinned you down on desk with a knife close to your face, the pointed end nearly touching your eye.

You screamed, but silenced you with a kiss.

Your first kiss.

“Don’t say a word,” he snarled.

And with the knife he held against your face, his hot breath tickled your face.

“You wouldn’t want to say a word to anyone, would you?”

Frightened, you shook your head. Laying still as if you’re trying to please him in a way to leave you alone.

He hadn’t inched away; knife on his hand slithered its tip across your skin, leaving your staggered, breath held captive, watching his blank and unsteady focus drinking it all in. The knife pinched your skin; Aemond slashed the black stockings in one swoop. Then, his knife went his way inside the ripped skirt he torn off, your pink thongs displayed before him.

You wanted to kick him, but he made sure to keep you still.

Rip!

The panties torn apart cleanly, your wet cunt displayed. It was a nightmare. Blush fell onto your cheeks as you watched him knelt down, still pinning you down, he licked your parted folds, lapped his warm tongue in three deep strokes.

By then, your cunt squirted shortly.

And he found it amusing.

“Be a good secretary,” he said, and plunged the hilt of the knife inside you.

Your moans escaped but Aemond kissed your lips, you could taste yourself in his lips, still in shock and denial that your lips could barely move.

Terror flooded within you; his hand bloodied as he inserted the knife’s hilt inside, urging your desperate, clinging cunt, growing warmer, tighter, coiled to a tight flex, oozing and flowing. You never had proper sex.

The knife has taken your virginity.

“Stop~” you uttered breath ragged breaths, nearly bucking your hips, cunt yearning.

Aemond denied, attempted to go faster, and the dark hilt of the knife pinched your walls right. The flush of hot squirt splashed on his uniform, even yours. Humiliating as it was, at least you’re somewhat thankful that it wasn’t his cock.

How long has he wanted this?

“Sir, please stop—”

“I will stop when I wanted to stop, Miss (Y/N). You’re going to love this. Whether you like it or not.” He unzipped his pants with one hand while his other pinned your hands above your head and stroke himself in front of your exhausted state. You couldn’t object anymore. His climax is about to reach, and his hot cum exploded, splashing everywhere on your skin. Even your face. His ragged breath overtook the silence, and left you defenseless. Letting your wrists go.

Everything was hot inside your private office.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes closed.

It felt right for him.

Seeing you all bruised and bloodied up. The hilt of the knife he held on his bloody hand—from the gripping the sharp end—it was a mix of your cum and blood, from tightening its grip.

Then he zipped his pants up, and left you cold on the table, saying, “Make sure no one sees you, Miss (Y/N). And if you mention this to anyone, I’ll kill you.”

His hand yanked the scrunchie out of your hair, some hair stands plucked, leaving your lips a soft yelp.

Then the door slammed shut.

Hollow. And emptiness.

Only your cries filled the stained and wrecked office, wondering how it went wrong, wondering how you can still breathe. The scars on your thigh wasn’t deep, but needs medicine and a clean shower, and a long rest. From there, you contemplate without hesitation. Your heart ached from shock and distress, a feeling where you wanted to throw up all the good food you ate earlier, but it was no use.

Perhaps you made a mistake on taking his offer.

~~~

As for Aemond, it was the first part of his plan. The red bruises on your wrist and absolution on your skin, laced in dark and wet crimson, from a torn underwear and stockings, the rush stirred in his veins and heart. And thus, more games he plans to pursue, seeing if you could withstand and beyond.

Somewhere in his head, the voice came in again. He wanted it to go away. The blood on his hand went cold, stinging from gripping the blade so tightly when he forced the hilt inside her warmth.

In the midst of stopping, he snapped his neck. In anger, he didn’t want to hear that voice again.

It’s about damn time he found a new toy to play with.

With a scrunchie he confiscated from you, yanked it away, as he went to the nearest elevator, reaching to his office, rushing to his chair to undo his pants once more and wrapped your scrunchy in several movements, until he became undone with his pleasure. He didn’t care of his staff coming in. But nobody entered. The staff went home and no one could hear Aemond’s throaty pleasure emanating.

The fainted smell of flowers on the scrunchy and his cum and blood from his injured right hand intertwined, as he sniffed it.

Divine and innocence.

Just the way he liked it.

reblogs/comments are greatly appreciated 🌹

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[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Bridgerton Season 3 and the dichotomy of understandable vs justifiable

This is going to be a long post and possibly incomprehensible but I've been thinking about the narrative choices of season 3 for way too long to not talk about it.

When a character takes any decisions or does an action, it has two facets- understandable and justifiable. Understandable actions are those where the audience knows why a character is doing what they are doing. Some common ways to establish this sort of knowledge is having flashbacks, by showcasing backstories or through narrative foreshadowing. Justifiable actions are those where the audience is meant to support the actions of a character, they don't merely understand the course of action but agree with it. Of course, actions can be both understandable and justifiable, but they don't always have to be. It's perfectly possible to have characters do things that are completely understandable but not even remotely justifiable.

(It's a bit more difficult to have actions that are justifiable but not understandable, because often justification comes from understanding, but with enough plot maneuvering, it can be done but I'll talk about that some other time)

And that's what I want to talk about. In season 2, there were plenty of characters who did things that were narratively framed as understandable but not justifiable. Anthony in particular is a great example of this. Like when he proposes to Edwina after Daphne confronts him about his feelings for Kate. His conversation with Violet on the in 2x03 has already established his absolute terror for love and why he is so insistent on having a pleasant marriage as opposed to a passionate one. And the flashbacks to Edmund's death have further established how much he suffered and saw his mother suffer. So when his reaction to Daphne driving home the point that he feels something intense for Kate, even if he calls it aggravation, it's something very far from rationality, we can understand why he chooses to propose to Edwina. But it's never framed as a justifiable choice. Whether it's through Kate's "Yes, my lord?" thinking he's coming to talk to her or the events that unfold, it is established that it was not the right course of action.

Another good example of this is Edwina's "half sister" comment to Kate. The long lingering shots of Kate and Anthony, the bracelet scene, the shots of the guests looking confused, all help us understand exactly where Edwina is coming from. She's hurt and lashes out at Kate to hurt her. But, is this ever framed as a justifiable choice? We constantly hear Kate emphasize their sisterhood, add to it her "this shall pass" speech to Anthony, her desire to go to India to physically remove herself from the situation, and it all show us that it was Kate's self-sacrificial nature that led her to her course of action, not because her loyalty towards Edwina was diluted by the lack of a full blood relation. Edwina's comments are never framed as justifiable.

And this brings me to Penelope. Until season 2, her actions were framed as understandable but not justifiable. Her mother and sister's casual cruel comments, Cressida's open meanness towards her, the comments she overhears from Colin, all help us understand exactly why Lady Whistledown has become such an outlet for her. Those shots of her at the periphery of ballrooms help us see why she sees the gossip as a silver lining in her situation. But what happens to Eloise and Penelope's explosive monologue to Eloise all work towards helping us understand that her actions are not exactly justifiable. It's not something the audience should throw unwavering support behind. And that's part of what makes her such a deliciously complex character. She forces us to contend with our own ideas of fairness and loyalty, in an especially unfair society.

However in season 3, the narrative choices seem geared towards framing Penelope's actions as both understandable and justifiable. The shots of Penelope staring as Cressida and Eloise walk away are framed to elicit pity from us. Similarly the shot of Penelope and Eloise at the modiste, with Penelope framed softly compared to the harsher positioning of Eloise is clearly intended for the audience to know that there's a sympathetic character vs a sterner one. And at least in part 1 it's established, narratively and cinematically, that we, as an audience, are supposed to view Eloise's grudge towards Penelope as unreasonable or 'doing too much'.

This is honestly a baffling narrative choice by the writers that downplays the complexity of Penelope as a character. Penelope is not meant to be a straight up victim, that's the whole point of Lady Whistledown. And if Penelope's actions are both understandable and justifiable, so much of the intensity of the reveal is lost, because if there's a "right side" then there's nothing for the audience to contend with. The whole point of Lady Whistledown being morally grey is that it makes the audiences think and agonize over different kinds of reactions to the reveal, whether those are understandable and justifiable or merely understand.

The fun of the reveal in the books is that we can understand Penelope, but we can also understand the disgruntled ton and I understand that the show is narratively quite far from the books, but even then to take out the complex nuance of Penelope and work towards this one dimensional narrative is a very strange decision.

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 3: Keeping Up Appearances

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: I am so sorry that this is like half a week late, life really got me. The next chapter should be out on Wednesday, fingers crossed. Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

As Francesca walked off after Lord Kilmartin, following his attempt to tell them all the story of his muddy boots, Violet slumped. She could see that Francesca was happy, but she just was not certain that he was the right person for her.

“What do you think?” Violet leaned in toward Agatha, awaiting her counsel. As far as Violet was concerned, Agatha was almost as perceptive as she was when it came to her children’s love lives and, Violet could admit to herself, she wanted Agatha’s approval.

“They are rather… similar” Agatha responded. Violet sighed. Their similarity was what worried her.

“Yes, but do you not think that Francesca could, in fact, use someone to bring her out of her shell? And given that the Queen is opposed…” Violet was worried about the Queen’s response, particularly after her children’s history of refusing the Queen’s matches.

“Oh! So much so it may have inspired her Whistledown reward today.” Agatha responded. Oh, wonderful. Violet pinched the bridge of her nose in some attempt to relax her mounting stress.

Anthony spoke up. “Perhaps, you should take the direct approach, for once.” Oh, because that ever worked, Violet thought to herself, turning toward him as he continued, “I know it is unlike you to cajole your children.”

She saw the smile threatening to burst onto her son’s face, “You mock me.” She replied, laughter lacing her tone.

“As you rightly mocked me all last season.”

Violet could not stop the shock showing on her face before she saw how much he was teasing and laughed quickly, turning away briefly. In doing so, she made eye contact with Lady Featherington, who waved brightly. Internally, Violet rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as she excused herself from Agatha and Lord Anderson, moving over to Lady Featherington.

“There you are, Lady Bridgerton. We keep missing one another.” Both ladies were quite jovial as they spoke.

“Duty of a hostess, I am afraid.” Co-hostess, verging on hostess in name only, but that would not excuse my refusal to speak with her, Violet thought internally.

“Well understood.” Lady Featherington responded. Violet hummed in agreement, allowing an uncomfortable silence to sweep over them. 

The clinking of a spoon on a glass broke the silence and Violet turned to see Colin proposing a toast. As Colin spoke, Violet allowed her thoughts to wander. She knew, logically, that Lady Featherington was going to be her family now, but that did not mean that it was any easier for her to handle a conversation with the woman. Knowing how much Penelope had struggled to thrive under Lady Featherington’s tutelage did not make it any easier for Violet, who had, some days, wanted nothing more than to take the girl into her house and protect her from the world, like she tried to do with all her children. However, seeing as they were being publicly joined, it was up to Violet to swallow her feelings and appear as a cohesive unit.

Violet was pulled out of her reverie by the clink of spoon on glass once more, this time by Eloise. Oh, this cannot be good. After Eloise’s response to the engagement, Violet had tried, several times, to speak to Eloise about whatever had come between her and Penelope, but her daughter refused to speak about it, to anyone. Violet paid attention as Eloise gave her toast.

“Congratulations to you both. Here is to truly knowing each other. Completely. Before the clock runs out.” Violet looked over to Penelope, who looked worried and perhaps scared, and she gave her daughter a piercing glare that said ���be nice’. The glare worked and Eloise continued, clearing her throat. “The clock of life, of course. Ticks for us all. To your good health!” Violet could hear how strained Eloise’s voice was, but she dropped the matter in favour of taking the one small reprieve she had granted her. At least Eloise had not forgotten her manners completely.

“Thank you, Eloise, I--” Colin sounded perplexed, but it did not last long as Lady Featherington spoke up from next to Violet.

“I should like to add… how proud I am of my lovely daughter, Penelope.” Mentally, Violet’s eyebrows rose, but outwardly, she chuckled in support of Penelope, who looked like pride was the last thing she expected from her mother. “To the match of the season,” Violet laughed genuinely, agreeing with Lady Featherington for once, who finished her toast, “And to the Featherington-Bridgerton family.” Lady Featherington chuckled and Violet toasted quickly before taking a long drink from her champagne flute.

Violet overheard Benedict turn to his guest and say “I cannot tell if this party needs stronger drinks or weaker ones.” Violet agreed with the former, as she finished her glass, needing the fortification for the coming night and the coming life she would spend being linked to Lady Featherington.

“Now, perhaps, some dessert and charades, in the drawing room.” Kate spoke up, ever the consummate hostess. The assembly moved toward the drawing room. As they did so, Violet found herself face to face with Lord Anderson who simply smiled warmly and offered his arm to her as they ascended the staircase. She took it, smiling softly at him.

***

Once they reached the drawing room and everyone was seated comfortably, Violet and Lord Anderson stopped together, still arm in arm, to watch the charades. Anthony explained the rules and as Penelope stepped up, after being prompted by Kate, Violet turned to Lord Anderson, saying in hushed tones, “Penelope is quite good at this. We have had her play in many of our family charades games over the years. She and my daughter Eloise,” she indicated to where Eloise was standing near the wall, “are-- were quite close.”

Lord Anderson looked at her as he replied, “And now she is to be your daughter. You must be quite excited.”

“Indeed, I am. She and Colin are a fine pair.” Not to mention, not nearly as much hassle as my previous children’s matches. She looked over at Eloise as she completed Penelope’s charade before turning to Lord Anderson, saying, “While Colin may have been the first to meet Penelope, Eloise was the one to truly welcome Penelope into the family. The two have been inseparable ever since.”

The two paused their conversation to watch Eloise’s charade before Lord Anderson responded, “I cannot help but notice that they appear rather uncomfortable at the moment.” Violet looked at Lord Anderson, her eyes widening and her frame stiffening, shocked at his impropriety. However, she could not help but admire his perceptiveness as well. Lord Anderson looked slightly apprehensive as he waited for her response, turning back to the charades in case she did not take kindly to his assertions. She softened and turned to him.

“It-- They were close… until last year. I am not certain what has come between them, but I am… hopeful, that they will be able to sort it out before the wedding. The girls are like two peas in a pod, after all.” Lord Anderson turned toward Violet as she spoke, looking into her eyes. Violet trailed off uncertainly, stunned by his attentive gaze. She cleared her throat slightly and turned back towards the game to see Penelope’s charade being attempted by Miss Cowper.

She could feel Marcus’s elbow bracketing her side and she could not help from leaning in towards him slightly. She had not felt this kind of magnetic pull since she had been with Edmund, and she relished it, unable to keep the smile from her face. As Eloise successfully guessed friendship for Penelope’s charade, Violet nodded hesitantly, as she noticed that Lord Anderson did the same, now understanding as much as she did about their relationship.

The two stood happily together, watching the charades in companionable silence. Violet, however, found herself wishing that he would say something, anything, to break the silence. She wanted to get to know him more, but could not find the words. As they stood, he turned to her, quietly saying “I am quite parched. Would you like a drink as well?”

Violet turned to him. His voice was so melodic and she could almost get lost in it. “Yes,” was all that Violet could utter in her haze.

“I’ll get us a drink.” Lord Anderson touched her arm as he offered and Violet jumped slightly at the feeling. His hand was warm against her and it sent tingles up her arm.

“Oh, I-- That would be lovely.” He removed his arm and Violet came to her senses once more.

“Lemonade?” He asked. Violet turned toward the refreshments table and pointed as she responded.

“Yes, they’re just-- Just over there.” Violet watched Lord Anderson as he walked off, fiddling with her hands as she did. She smiled quietly, taking just a moment for herself before turning back to keep watching the charades alone. Well, if this isn’t a metaphor for my life, nothing is. She was surrounded by friends and family, but found herself alone. However, with Marcus, it was different. With Marcus, she did not feel so alone.

***

The moment Kate announced that she and Anthony were expecting was the last moment that Violet clearly remembered, when thinking back on the night of the engagement ball. She remembered being truly overjoyed for the pair, excited for them to experience the wonder that parenthood could be. After that, everything had happened entirely too quickly. Miss Cowper had announced her identity as Lady Whistledown, much to the shock of Violet and the other gathered guests and, of course, Penelope had fainted. Violet had rushed to get Mrs. Wilson, to get a doctor, to do something.

Despite Violet’s experience in dealing with sick children, she was at a loss of what to do. She settled to pacing quietly in the hallway, waiting for the doctor to arrive, which is exactly where Agatha found her ten minutes after Penelope had initially collapsed.

Ten steps up, ten steps back. Penelope will be okay, she must be. She is not Edmund; she will be okay. 

Violet was startled from her thoughts by a hand on her arm. Violet spun around, to find herself face to face with Agatha.

“Oh! I- I am just-- just waiting for the doctor to arrive. Someone should be here to…” Violet’s voice trailed off as she looked at Agatha timidly. “I-- There-- How is she?” Violet tried again, looking down at her fidgeting hands. Agatha’s eyes sought out her own, and when she finally met her gaze, Violet saw compassion there, so strikingly similar to her brother, not that she would admit that.

“Violet. Penelope is fine. She came around and she has had some water to drink, she will be okay.” Agatha said emphatically, keeping her hand on Violet’s arm. At the news, Violet allowed herself to deflate, all the frenetic energy leaving her body. Violet focused her attention on Agatha’s hand, allowing it to ground her. “She is okay.” Agatha repeated, likely seeing how it had soothed Violet to know that. Violet allowed the words to wash over her, to bring her out of her panic.

“Thank goodness for that, truly.” Violet took a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me know, Agatha.” Violet offered a small smile as she covered Agatha’s hand with her own.

“That is quite alright, Violet. Are you well?” Agatha looked concerned for Violet more than for Penelope, which, surely, did not make any sense.

“Yes, yes. I am fine, I was merely worried about her.”

“Violet, I found you pacing in the hallway and you had no idea I was coming, which is most unlike you. Here, come and sit.” With that, Agatha led Violet over to one of the benches that adorned the hallway and sat down. Violet sat down as well, her legs feeling jelly-like now that her energy had passed. “Now, Penelope will be quite all right. She is not Edmund. She is well. When I left, she was taking small sips of water at your son’s insistence.” Agatha placed an arm around Violet, who found herself needing to take deep breaths in order to avoid succumbing to the tears filling her eyes.

“I know that she is not Edmund… But… I just cannot help it. I could do nothing then and I could do nothing now. I did not wish for Colin to go through what I had to experience.” Violet continued to breathe deeply, trying to ground herself.

“Come. We shall go and see her and you can see that she is well for yourself.” Violet looked up at Agatha as she stood and offered her arm.

“Thank you, Agatha, truly.” Violet accepted her arm and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. She smiled sadly at Agatha, allowing herself to take strength from her dearest friend when she needed it. 

The two walked back toward the drawing room as if nothing was wrong. When they reached the drawing room and Violet saw Penelope sitting on one of the couches, she could not help the sigh of relief that she breathed. Violet looked at the assorted guests and saw only one pair of eyes focused on her, everyone else too focused on Penelope. Marcus looked at her with concern and compassion in his eyes. She smiled slightly and nodded to him, to show she was okay, as she slipped back into the role of co-hostess with Kate.

***

Mrs. Wilson had alerted Violet to the presence of a visitor in the entranceway the following morning, which led her to be caught off-guard when the visitor was none other than Marcus -Lord Anderson-, the very man who had been occupying her thoughts since the night before.

“Lord Anderson.” Violet said.

Hearing her voice, he turned away from the decorations that he had been examining on the side table and started walking towards her.

“Lady Bridgerton.” He said, and Violet bowed her head to him in greeting. “Forgive my intrusion. I simply forgot my, uh…” Lord Anderson trailed off as a footman approached. “Hat.” He finished, gesturing to the hat in the footman’s hands. They both chuckled at the impeccable timing, and Violet nodded in thanks to her footman. As Lord Anderson brushed his hat off, he did not make any movements to leave, so she took the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“Were you just, um…” Violet felt uncharacteristically nervous as she searched for the right words, “Passing by?” Lord Anderson laughed infectiously.

“Yes, I suppose I could have sent a footman to fetch this, could I not?” Violet laughed awkwardly. This conversation was not going the way she had wished. “But then I would not have been able to see you again.” 

Well, that was quite… forward. 

Violet allowed herself to preen slightly at his words. Lord Anderson was quite the flatterer, it appeared, as he continued. “Well, to thank you for such an enjoyable evening.”

Violet stepped forward towards him, feeling that magnetic pull that she had felt last night as she carried on with the conversation. “Well, it was… quite a night. Was it not?” She cast about for the words as she spoke, returning her gaze to find that he had also taken steps toward her, leading him to be far closer than she had expected.

“How are you faring?” Lord Anderson asked. Violet was slightly thrown from his proximity and she took a moment before responding.

“Uh…” Well, that was eloquent. “Besides a bit of a headache, I am well.” She responded, laughing slightly. She watched Marcus and saw adoration reflected in his eyes. It threw her, having not been on the receiving end of such a gaze since Edmund had passed. Violet looked down, no longer able to withstand the weight of his gaze, searching for something to say, something to continue the conversation that she was so enjoying. “How are you?” Violet said genuinely, trying to convey her concern whilst still remaining polite.

Lord Anderson took a moment to respond, his smile hesitating. “I take it you sensed a chilly departure between my sister and me?” She had not intended to be quite so confrontational about it, but took the opportunity that presented itself.

“Perhaps. Though it is none of my business.” Violet was quick to assure Lord Anderson that he need not speak of anything he did not want to.

“I do believe we will work it out. Childhood grievances have a way of lingering. My sister was the first born.”

“But you were the first boy.” Violet interjected understandingly. Lord Anderson nodded.

“But we are adults now… Surely, there is a way forward.” Lord Anderson said, hopefully. Violet huffed a small laugh, knowing Agatha’s ability to hold a grudge.

“I have faith you will find a way.” Violet offered her support, not for one side or the other, but just for them both to move forward. So I might pursue a relationship with him while maintaining my closest friendship, her brain supplied traitorously.

“Thank you.” Lord Anderson smiled gratefully, “I shall let you nurse your headache in peace.” Violet took a few steps back, laughing, but with a tinge of sadness that he was ending the conversation. “But I do hope to see you soon.” With that simple sentence, her sadness left her and her heart bloomed with hope.

“As do I.” Violet allowed her hope and affection to shine through on her face, smiling as he left. She began to walk to the drawing room, looking back to where he had just left and smiled happily to herself. 

As Violet walked into the drawing room, she was shaken from her reverie, by hearing her children arguing over the macarons, but was too elated from her conversation with Lord Anderson to bother trying to break up the argument. Instead, she simply picked up her embroidery and sat down, mulling over her conversation.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

At the Dawn There is Rejoicing--a birthday gift for @kmomof4 (Epilogue)

Summary:  Birthday gift for Krystal, @kmomof4. Based on the story of Leslie Moore and Owen Ford in the book Anne’s House of Dreams–the 5th book in the Anne of Green Gables series.  Emma Gold has led a difficult life.  Her brother and her father died when she was a child, and she was then coerced into marrying the odious Neal Gold.  She thought she’d been granted a reprieve when he was believed to be lost at sea–only for him to return disabled and in need of a caregiver.  Killian is a newspaper reporter who is tired of his routine life.  When he falls ill, his editor forces him to take a sabbatical.  What will happen when Emma takes Killian in as a border for the summer? Big thank you to @snowbellewells for making the cover pic set!

Word Count: 1176

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):

@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @kmomof4

@linda8084 @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 

@therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica 

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Other Chapters: (Prologue) (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Epilogue

Neither Emma nor Killian wanted to wait any longer than necessary to be wed, and so a month after his proposal, in the garden of the little House of Dreams, they were married in the church in the harbor.  It was a small, intimate ceremony, only their closest friends present–the Nolans, of course, Granny and Marco (who had only a few days before tied the knot themselves), Captain Nemo, Gideon and Violet, Johanna, and Lance Du Lac.

Mary Margaret and Emma had spent many happy hours working together to make Emma’s wedding dress and veil.  It was a rather simple ensemble, but Mary Margaret thought she’d never seen a more radiant bride.

Emma knew she’d never forget the moment she began her walk down the aisle–on Captain Nemo’s arm.  She’d looked to the end of the aisle and seen Killian standing there, devastatingly handsome in is black tux, his eyes shining with love and happiness.

Butterflies, she thought as she walked.  She had butterflies thinking of spending the rest of her life with this man.

As the two of them said the vows that would bind them together forever, she didn’t feel the panicked, trapped feeling she had at her first wedding–as though her “I do” was a shackle around her wrist, and his was the locking of her prison door.  No, this time, their vows felt like she was given wings and was finally free to soar.

The kiss he’d given her when they were pronounced husband and wife was almost scandalous–how filled with desire and passion it was, right there in the church before God and everyone–but Emma couldn’t bring herself to care.  This was right, this was beautiful, this was as it was meant to be.

After the ceremony, they’d adjourned to the garden outside the House of Dreams for a small reception.  Johanna, who had returned a week before the wedding, and Mary Margaret had outdone themselves with refreshments and a lovely, three-tiered wedding cake.  The afternoon was spent with laughter and joy among their nearest and dearest.

“So, what are your plans, now that you’re married?” David asked.

“I’m selling my house,” Emma said. “There are too many memories there–and aside from the summer with Killian, all of them were dark and dismal.  That house holds too many ghosts.”

“You won’t move far, will you?” Mary Margaret asked quickly.

“Unfortunately we must,” Killian said.  “I’ve still got my job in Montreal.�� We’ll take up residence there.”

“Oh what a shame!” Mary Margaret said, clearly crestfallen. “We’ll all miss you dreadfully!”

“Indeed we will,” Granny said with a decisive nod of her head.  “Now Emma, dearie, the two of you must visit often.  On that I absolutely insist.”

“Of course we will,” Killian promised.  “Every chance we get.  My summer on the island was the happiest of my life, and I know Emma will miss all of you.”

“Well, since we’re talking about changes,” David said after a moment.  “Mary Margaret and I have some news as well.  The old Morgan place up in the glen just went on the market–Ingleside, I think they’re calling it–and Mary Margaret and I have decided to buy it.”

“You’re leaving your House of Dreams?” Marco asked, eyebrows raised.  “But you always seemed to love this house so much!”

Mary Margaret sighed.  “We do.  This house has been dearer to me than anywhere I’ve ever lived, and it breaks my heart to leave, but David convinced me it’s the right decision.”

“Between the two of us, Johanna, and now baby Leo, we’re bursting at the seams,” David said.  “You know we’ve always wanted a large family, and when more little ones come along, well our House of Dreams will no longer suit our needs.  The price of Ingleside couldn’t be beat, and so we chose to act.”

“My biggest concern,” Mary Margaret said, “is that the House of Dreams will go to someone who won’t love it and care for it the way we did–or worse yet, that it will stand empty and simply decay.”

Emma and Killian looked at each other for a moment, and then Emma nodded, knowing what he was thinking without him needing to voice it–and completely agreeing with him.  

“We might have a way to allay that fear,” he said. “Emma and I have talked about wanting to summer here on the island–to make it a yearly thing.  What if we bought your House of Dreams for our summer home?”

The suggestion had been met with great enthusiasm by all present, and so they had yet another thing to celebrate on this gorgeous fall day.  

And celebrate they had, until the sun began its slow descent into the west.

Finally, when it was time for Emma and Killian to leave for their honeymoon trip, their friends saw them off with cheers and applause.

Killian had booked them a luxurious private berth on the train for the first leg of their trip, and as the countryside sped by, he and Emma sat together, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder, her hand covering his heart.

“Are you happy, love?” he asked softly.

She smiled, too overcome with emotion to speak.  Instead, she took his face in her hands and brought him down for a long, slow, leisurely kiss.

The verse from Psalm 30 came into her mind then: Weeping may endure for a night, but at the dawn there is rejoicing.

Her long, agonizing night was finally at an end, and the dawn had finally arrived.  Emma couldn’t wait to discover what this new day would bring.

The end!

Notes:

–Thank you all for reading and commenting! (And happy birthday to Krystal!)

–One other change I made from the actual book: In the book, Owen (Killian) brought Captain Jim (Nemo) a copy of his book on his return to the island, and the next morning Anne and Gilbert (the Nolans) found him with a smile on his face, and his book open to the last page.  He’d apparently passed away of old age just after finishing the book.  I, however,  had no intention of killing off Captain Nemo.

–That’s it for this story, but if you’re interested in what happens with the book characters moving forward:  (SPOILERS FOR ANYONE INTERESTED IN READING THE ANNE OF GREEN GABLES BOOKS) Anne and Gilbert move to Ingleside and have 5 more children (bringing their total to 3 girls and 3 boys).  Leslie (Emma) and Owen have two children–the first they name after Leslie’s deceased brother and the second after Persus Ford (Elsa in my story).  They come back to the House of Dreams to live every summer, and their family and Anne and Gilbert’s continue to be great friends.  Miss Cornelia (Granny) and Marshall Elliot (Marco) eventually adopt a little orphan girl who ran away from the orphanage.  Several years later, at the end of World War I, Leslie and Owen’s son comes home from the war and marries Anne and Gilbert’s youngest daughter.  And, of course, everyone lives happily ever after! 

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Begin Again

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton + Penelope Featherington

Summary: A twist on Episode 4. What if Colin didn’t stop the proposal in time?

Main Masterlist | Albums Masterlist | Red Album

*Spoilers for Season 3 Part 1*

Took a deep breath in the mirror, he didn't like it when I wore high heels, but I do.

Colin rushed to the ball as quickly as his horse would carry him. He had to stop Penelope's pending engagement, she couldn't marry Debling when his heart yearned for her.

He practically flung himself off his horse and made his way into the ball, only to see Debling down on one knee in front of Penelope. He was too late.

He watched as Portia Featherington near enough pushed her daughter into the Lord's arms. It was done.

She was soon to be Lady Debling.

"I am sorry I was too late, Pen," he whispers to himself, watching from the wall as Penelopes head turned and caught his eye. Her eyes were just like his own, heartbroken and grieving that possible life they could have had.

Turn the lock and put my headphones on, he always said he didn't get this song. But I do, I do.

Violet Bridgerton waited to in the drawing room, waiting for Colin to come back home. Oh, how she hoped he wasn't too late. She know he would never recover if Penelope married another, and in turn, it would break hers. She never liked seeing any of her children upset - but whenever Colin was upset, it broke her heart tenfold (he was so much like his father, it made her yearn for her dearly departed Edmund).

The sound of the door slamming shut brought her away from her musings. "Colin? Is that you, dearest?" She made her way to the entrance, and that's when she was her son, out of breath.

No. He wasn't out of breath, he was gasping for air.

It hadn't gone well.

"Mama," he whispers, looking up at her with tears in his eyes. Oh, no. Her worst fears were just confirmed. He was too late. "She... she..."

"Oh, Colin. My darling," she hurried over to her son and wrapped him into her arms as best she could - but he crumbled into a ball on the floor, gasping and sobbing.

She awkwardly manoeuvred them so he could be sitting in her lap (he was far too old and big for this) and brought his head to her heart. "Wh- Why didn't I-I see her so-sooner?" He cried, gripping onto the front of her dress.

Violet could feel the tears welling up in her own eyes. Out of all of her children, Colin was the most sensitive. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, always making sure his younger siblings were entertained whilst also grieving his father. She couldn't imagine what he was going through, the idea of her not having married Edmund destroyed her.

"What is going on?" Anthony asked, coming down the stairs of Bridgerton House, obviously on a late night food search for pregnant Kate. Following him was Eloise. She sometimes came down in the middle of the night looking for a glass of milk.

"Penelope got engaged tonight," Violet said gently. No matter how she had said it, it would have still caused the violent sobs to leave her third son.

Before Anthony married Kate, he wouldn't have known what it would feel like to miss out on the love of ones life. But, now? It gutted him over the idea of not having Kate by his side for the rest of his life.

"Brother. Colin, I am ever so sorry," Anthony tells him resting a hand on his brother's quivering shoulder.

Eloise looked at her family, seriously questioning why her brother was so upset over Penelope getting engaged. He was only helping her get to this point.

"Wasn't this the main goal of you helping her?" She asked.

"Eloise!" Anthony exclaimed.

"Your brother is in love with Penelope, he went to the ball to offer her his hand."

Eloise blinked a few times, looking at her brother. It's not like Penelope felt... the... same. Flashes went through her head of balls and social events from the past two seasons. It was all there as clear as day. Penelope adored Colin.

But, now she was set to marry Lord Debling.

And her brother was sitting on the floor of Bridgerton House, crying his heart out.

And you throw your head back laughin' like a little kid. I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did!

The next morning, Eloise was awake as the sun rose, joining her mother, Anthony and Kate at the breakfast table - trying to eat as much food as physically possible before calling hours start. At the rate she was eating - she could have put Colin to shame.

"Eloise, you must breathe between your bites," Violet tells her daughter.

"I cannot. I must get to the Featherington's before Lord Debling."

Violet gasped happily. "Are you going to see Penelope?" She clasps her hands in front of her.

"I must! I cannot watch Penelope marry that... that..." the word 'fool' was said by Kate (however this was in place of a less dignified word mutter by Anthony). "Fool! When she is so obviously mad for Colin!"

"She is?"

The timid voice of the third son drew the families attention away from the breakfast table. There stood Colin Bridgerton, his eyes bleary from no sleep (they were also red-rimed from crying most of the night). He was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday but currently had his goose down cover wrapped around his shoulders like a security blanket.

"How about," Violet said, getting up from her seat. "You get changed, and you can go over to the Featherington's with Eloise?"

You said you never met a girl who has as many James Taylor records as you, but I do. We tell stories and you don't know why, I'm comin' off a little shy, but I do.

It had been a quiet morning in the Featherington household, Penelope enjoyed it when it was this quiet. Not shouting sisters, no demanding mother.

Portia was sitting with a cup of tea awaiting on the arrival of Lord Debling, as she was ready to marry off her final daughter. Penelope sat on the other sofa, reading one of her new books Emma, the same anonymous author who wrote Pride and Prejudice.

The book was just getting to the best part, when a knock on the Featherington door interrupted their silence. "That will be Lord Debling, put your book away," Portia demands, pulling a face over the simple word - 'book'.

Mrs. Varley curtsied to the two women. "Miss Eloise is here to see Miss Penelope."

"Eloise? Eloise is here to see me?" Penelope asks Varley. The woman nodded. "May I go see Eloise in the garden, mama?"

Portia sighed and waved her youngest away, it may be a while before Lord Debling arrives.

But you start to talk about movies, that your family watches every single Christmas. And I want to talk about that, and for the first time, what's past is past.

Penelope hurried out of the Featherington drawing room, and making her way to the garden. Where she saw her blue dressed best friend.

"Eloise!" Penelope called. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She made her way over to her best friend, has she come to forgive her? That's when she noticed the second person in the garden. Colin. "Oh. Good morning, Mr. Bridgerton."

Colin seemed to shrink in a little on himself. He hated it when she called him 'Mr. Bridgerton', he knew it was customary, they aren't married. But he wants them to be.

"Good morning, Penelope," Eloise greets. Looking between her brother and (possibly former?) best friend. "Are the rumours true? Will you be marrying Lord Debling?"

That was one thing Penelope always admired about Eloise, she never beat around the bush. "I will. It will make mama happy and I will finally be free from her," she heard a whimper like sound escape from the vicinity of Colin. "Are you alright?"

"What if you have another offer?" He asks, staring out at the garden, not daring to turn around and face Penelope.

"Another offer, what are you talking about, Colin?" She asks. "This is exactly what we had been working towards all season. I did not think enlisting you help would also mean you would be telling me who I can and can not marry. You are not my father nor my brother."

It seemed Colin bristled a little at her worse. "What if I have feelings for you?"

Penelope made a noise of disbelief. "Do not say things you do not mean."

"But I do," he turned in his seat to look at her. Penelope looked just as miserable as he did - over the idea of marrying Lord Debling. "I have thought of nothing and no one but you since I came back."

Penelope looked at him with big eyes. Was this actually happening? Her two blue eyes bounced back and forth between Colin's, then she happened to glance over at Eloise. Her face said everything her mouth didn't. She needed to tell Colin about Whistledown.

"There is something I have been keeping from you. It is the reason Eloise and I fell out the way we did."

Colin steps forward and cups Penelope's face with one of his hands. "Nothing could ever change how much I adore you."

She let out a sigh, after her words, he would never look at her the same. "Lady Whistledown is me."

He blinks repeatedly, his hand felling from her cheek and to her shoulder. "I beg your pardon, Pen?"

"I'm Lady Whistledown."

I've been spending the last eight months, thinkin' all love ever does is break, and burn, and end. But on a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again.

Colin collapsed back onto the stone seat, making sure he still had hold of one of Penelope's hands. Pen, his Pen, is Lady Whistledown. He could not deny he did wonder whether she had some sort of role of influence on the gossip writer. Little did he know, the cruel woman was the woman he loves.

He looks from Penelope to his sister. "When did you find out?" He asks.

"At the Featherington's ball last season. I found one of her unpublished editions," Eloise didn't mention the money she had found.

He was silent again, as he absorbed the information. He then looked up and raised an eyebrow at the pair. "We could use Whistledown to our advantage," he says, a smirk growing on his face.

There was a similar smirk grew on Penelope's face. "Never did I think you would come to my way of thinking, Lord Whistledown."

"If you keep calling me that, your mama will have yo rush us to the altar."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Eloise pulls a face and turns away from the pair. Yes, those two are perfect for each other.

[morganupstead]

Some first thoughts of Bridgerton season 3???

I will have more thoughtful convos but there’s are the things I can’t get over.

1. Season 3 Colin is a pirate I don’t know why I don’t make the rules it just is

2. I absolutely love Francesca. LOVE LOVE LOVE HER SO MUCH. Not sure how I feel about the 2 suitors she has (I haven’t read the books so i don’t have that knowledge)

3. The Mondrich’s are so underrated and I love they’re getting more screen time. Especially Alice she is such a incredible woman.

4. I knew it was never gonna work but I liked Lord Debling. While it lasted it was endearing.

5. So far…. Penelope’s best outfit has been the green number she enters the ball in in episode 1. SHE LOOKS ETHEREAL AND PERFECT SND I WANT A REPLICA FOR MYSELF.

6. Cressida Cowper frustrates the hell out of me. She has one redeeming moment only to throw it all away the next and Eloise is still trying to help her to no avail UGH. I want her to redeem herself but I don’t know it will happen.

3. Kanthony is as perfect and lovely as I’d imagined and I have no notes so far. I love them.

4. I need to know why Lady Danbury doesn’t approve of her brother, bc right now I’m vibing with this whole Violet thing but what I don’t know might be really important character development 🙃

5. Benedict Bridgerton continues to be hot. Don’t understand how but he defies all logic for this show and is so attractive. I’m intrigued about his relationship with the blonde widow (can’t remember her name)

6. Colin Bridgerton does not get to turn Penelope Featherington’s life upside down and then just propose. Boy needs to do way more than that to get on Lady Whisteldown’s good graces.

7. I hope to god Eloise and Pen find their way back to each other bc I can’t stand it anymore i miss them so much.

There so much but at the same time there’s not enough and I need more

[thehedgerider]

On Colin…

First of all this is not hate so I hope no one takes it that way. While I’m not a fan of Colin, I went into this season with an open mind because I am a fan of good story and character development and unfortunately after 4 episodes Colin is still lacking in both areas, which is wild since he’s been on the show for 3 seasons now. If they’d waited until S4, then Pt 1 of S3 wouldn’t feel so rushed and we’d all (especially non-bookies) feel like we have a better understanding of who this character is.

In S1 we got flashbacks of Simon and the issues with his father that explained to the audience why he was the way he was about children et al.

In S2 we got flashbacks of Anthony and the impact of Edmund’s death and Violet’s grief, which explained to the audience why he felt the way he felt about love.

However, in S3 all the audience gets is the perspective of others (Pen, Violet, etc) about why Colin is the way he is as far as being a…people pleaser…I guess? Where did this need to adjust to others come from? Is it a result of Edmund’s death? Does his desire to fit in stem from his siblings, society, etc.? And if so how? Why?

Because they decided to breeze through all of that character development, everything leading up to the carriage scene—which was great—feels hollow and equally rushed.

I mean he’s never shown a hint of being romantically interested in Pen and then suddenly after giving her a kiss she asked for, he can’t stop thinking about her and he’s proposing an episode and a half later. The idea that if Pen hadn’t been at her lowest and asked for that kiss, Polin would never have happened, bothers me because I don’t think that with all that she means to him, that should have been the thing that makes him see her in a different light.

It would have been nice if we’d had more time—preferably after Pen told him why she was pissed—for him to consider Pen and her place in his life with more depth, especially given what she told him. I mean these two have been friends since they were kids, they wrote to each other constantly when he was on his previous excursions. But after he threw her under the bus with the ton boys, all communication with her stops when he’s out touring 17 cities.

Shouldn’t that have bothered him more?

Shouldn’t we have seen that?

Shouldn’t he have come back urgently in search of an explanation for her cutting him off instead of being caught off guard with the fact that something was wrong?

I haven’t read the books so I can’t fill in the holes with this character the way others can. And those holes are why I don’t care for him very much, unfortunately. I expected this season to do for him what S2 did for Anthony. I didn’t care for him in S1 either, but S2 took the time to turn that around and I figured the same would go for Colin, but that’s not what’s happened here which is disappointing. And I doubt it’s going to get addressed in Part II because now the focus is likely going to shift to him finding out about LW and how that affects this new chapter in Polin’s relationship.

Anyway I just needed a minute to get my thoughts out on the main thing that’s been bugging me about this season.

[seelestia]

YEEE NPNP!! college was nervewracking ngl (still is), at least when i started last year august iirc? but yeah! do you know what major you want? alas i cannot chill as much as i used to smh

heheh fr tho >:3 i think the fontaine arc was really well written and went into more depth (get it? depth? waters? ok i'll stop now) and because of how much lore we were given since it seems to be more complex ngl. as for myself, i'm sticking albedo and lyney under the microscope so i can understand them both better

especially albedo. i'd very much like to pick his brain the same way i wanna pick my boyfriend's- coughs

HEJSJD THE WAY I STARTED SMILING AFTER READING THE HCS,,needed that ngl cuz i've been stressed a lot. but i think bedo would be the kind of person who'd do that and create an artificial flower and then name it after me hehehe

but hey, who's to say wanderer wouldn't leave you a flower someplace where you can find it? just a small and sweet gesture and will very most likely deny it (and fails) when you tease him for it mwehehhe i can be devious too ya know or maybe even ayato leaves you a little present like a bracelet or hair accessory after a long day of work

AND NOO ITS OK I LOVE LISTENING TO UR RAMBLES TOO /gen /pos

actually yea i do have some new vibedo trivia! we've officially become engaged and he was the one who proposed first <3 that and he has a tendency to call me "sweet violet" since its an actual flower as well hehe. and tysm!! i'm honestly just doing my best to stay happy since my irl bedo is like very complementary to my personality if that makes sense? like he tends to wear darker clothing, i tend to wear a lot of pastels kinda thing. and so far, we're doing rlly good! sure there are some challenges we're dealing with now but im doing my best to stay positive ^^

also me being 20 ew. somehow i'm still being referred as old sheesh

ok im done rambling now im passing the mic to u hehe /lh

ah, truly. the price of education = freedom to chill !!! 😔 but alas, life is a ongoing journey with hurdles (and i happen to not be an athlete /j). currently, i have my eyes on a social science major atm! so i can hopefully pursue psychology :3 but my second choice is english bcs i cannot stray from the path of linguistics and literature no matter how much i tried /pos. ALSOSOSO if you don't mind, can you tell me more abt what you do in your course? i did my research on google but i think it cannot compare to someone with the actual experience™ ++ i'm just a curious cat and want to enable your rambles hehe <3 /lh

THE PUN, HELP. i agree, the fontaine quest deffo made some waves when it ended. OH I SEE!!! at first glance, i thought i could find a similarity between albedo and lyney (finding vi's type: a reality show jkjk we all already know it's albedo /hj) but the longer i looked, the more i questioned myself 😭 i do think that both of them are deeper than what people credit them for tho! albedo with his knowledge of khemia.... and lyney with his burdens as the next 'father'..... ooOOooO. some emphasis for now on lyney bcs of the 4.6 trailer that just dropped! DID YOU SEE IT YET VI 👁️ (but dw, i understand if you had no time / busy with college!) { the comment abt picking your bf's brain LMAO would he let you?? oh, truly, love is blind 🤭 /lh }

always happy to provide you with hcs!!! my brain buzzes with possibilities all the time && one of the things i love most abt selfships is analyzing how different personalities come together to form habits / idiosyncrasies / love languages of their own. like how albedo conjures up an artificial flower bcs he is simply reminded of his sweet violet — that is special and unique to you in a way. it's vv beautiful, i think!!

AND HSHDHWHSH. THE HCS??? vi, i cannot convey how much i appreciate you. i haven't indulged in my selfships for some time since i didn't have time to be active - so this made me SOSOSO happy aaaaaa!!! but wanderer definitely has left some flowers for me before bcs who else? i suggested the possibility of another suitor and he knocked me on the head (softly) YOWCHHH but hey, at least he admitted it was him! :3c and 'yato.... aghhhhh this man. he leaves a hairpin out in the open but tells me “not to touch it until he gets home” just so he can put it on me himself. he derives joy from seeing me hold back from snatching that thing up myself. meanie /j

AWWW THAT'S SO CUTE!! you two are the apt presentation of “opposites attract”. and i'm glad! i only have average experience with relationships but i think everyone agrees that a relationship isn't sunshine and rainbows all the time. that's as natural as our having good days and bad days in a week. i think what matters is how you both deal with them - and i believe in you & your bf! you're a good egg and ik your bf is too, so do what you both know is best <3 (forgive me if i sound like a grandma here /j BUT hooray to vi and irl albedo! my new fav couple yesyesyes)

[mangowavves]

i have been sitting on a slab of cardboard for 5 minutes reflecting on the pokemon scarlet/violet dlc

you're the villain

like you caused all the problems to occur

you are no longer a protagonist who fixes the pokemon of the past/future from escaping area zero, you're far removed from that situation now.

you're the person who allied themself (albeit unwillingly) with someone who's first interaction with you was xenophobia and assaulted you immediately, bullied the brother of said individual, and then caused him to go into a revenge cycle.

you spend the entire plot of the first half ruining his confidence, when at the beginning he seems to have some semblance of a crush on you, talking about you non-stop, although he's too nervous to propose anything to you.

his xenophobic sister who bullies him snitches to you about his crush, and yes, you get to battle him, which he wanted to do, but, you also begin making him realize he's a weaker trainer.

so he begins training. relentlessly. at the start it's slow, he's easily beaten by you. you watch him get progressively more disheartened by every defeat until eventually you beat the light from his eyes right out because as the player, you're technically omnipotent.

then flash forward to the second part of the dlc. the last time you saw kieran he was cursing your name and absolutely shattered by his final loss against you. but now he's back, stronger, angrier, more dedicated than before. it's to a point his sister, someone who encouraged his downfall is even concerned.

you look at differences with his sprite. of course the obvious is his hair. he changed his hair to show the color outside, not a big deal. observing more however you see man developed eye bags, which was intentional.

carmine said he begun skipping sleeping to train his pokemon, and physically it does show. he's no longer polite, which she also notes. she avoids him relentlessly, noting his personality changes were overwhelming.

you caused this.

whoopsie :3

[illyrian-dreamer]

Changing Shadows Part 21

Azriel x Reader

Summary: When returning from your mission, Rhys and Feyre share some devastating news with the rest of the Inner Circle. 

ACOSF spoilers warning!! This chapter is a retelling of events from ACOSF from Rhys’s sisters’ perspective. Heavy angst, but what is angst without some fluff? 💔☁️

Thank you for the support of the story so far!! It means so much 💕

Image by koike9023

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7* | Part 8 | Part 9* | Part 10 | Part 11* | Part 12* | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15* | Part 16* | Part 17* | Part 18*| Part 19* | Part 20

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of suicide, swearing. ACOSF SPOILERS!!

Word count: 1,457

Part 21:

∇

You returned to Velaris at sunrise, heading straight to Rhys and Feyre’s house on the river. You and Azriel would deliver the book together, as a team.

You found your brother and Feyre in the large sitting room, hands intertwined and their faces grave.

“Mission success!” you cheered happily, Az a few steps behind you as he placed the record book on the table, his shadows swirling with energy.

“Thank you,” Rhys replied quietly, not looking up as he stared at the ground. Your brother’s own night shadows were no where to be seen.

“What’s wrong brother?” Azriel asked, the first to notice how still the couple were.

You spun around to them, eyebrows pulling in concern. “Is everything alright?”

Feyre rested a hand atop her belly, the other still intertwined with Rhys as her knuckles whitened. “We’re waiting on the others to arrive. We have something we need to share.”

Your stomach dropped, now seeing her tear stained cheeks. This was not good.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the circle to arrive, none of you greeting the other as you anxiously waited, gathering around your High Lord and Lady. 

You fidgeted, exchanging a quick glance with Mor who returned your look of concern, as if to say she didn’t know anything.

Rhys started. “As you know, the pregnancy poses health risks to Feyre due to the fact our child has wings.” Yes, you had been aware there were complications, but had trusted the healers had a solution proposed. Neither Rhys or Feyre had said otherwise.

“After an extensive search for a cure or healer who could offer any experience, we have come up short,” Rhys said flatly. 

You gulped, tears threatening your eyes. Why hadn’t they told you the situation was so dire? You swallowed and tucked your wings in, determined to not lose hope.

Before you could offer a word of support, your brother continued. “It is at this time…," he took a deep breath, face agonised with what he had to say next. Feyre continued to stare down at her stomach, tears flowing freely. Rhys cleared his throat. “It is at this time that we must share with you, after the war with Hybern, Feyre and I made a death pact.”

There was a piercing ring in your ear. No one moved, no one dared to breath.

“We made a promise to leave this world together,” Feyre said softly, clutching his hand even tighter.

Rhys raised his violet eyes as they welled with tears, circling the group before they finally landed on you. “I did not think it would turn out like this,” he whispered, voice breaking.

——

The ringing in your ears turned to a roar.

“What did you just say?” Your voice was laced with ice as your mind raced to connect the dots. Your eyes, at first wide with disbelief, now hardened on your brother.

“You idiotic, romantic fools,” Amren cursed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“So if Feyre dies giving birth, you’ll also die?” Cassian asked with regret, raising his hand at Rhys.

Rhys looked down, pained by the answer. “Yes.”

Some small gasps, and a quiet moment of realisation.

You stared at Rhys, stared at them both, icy rage now filling your veins.

“How could you,” your voice broke, nose scrunching in hurt as your eyes stung with hot angry tears. Your heart pounded and you started to shake, your fists clenched as your nails dug so hard into your palms they bled.

Feyre cried softly, hands rested atop her belly. Rhys put his arm around her, comforting her before raising his head to you again, his face etched with agony.

“I’m so sorry sister. We–,” he started, but you cut him off.

“How could you –,” you snapped, practically growling as your night magic started to build. “How could you do this to us.” Magic was now gathering at your palms, well out of your control.

Azriel was suddenly behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist with a firm grip, unsure of what you’d do next. Rhys stood up, positioning himself between you and Feyre.

“Y/N, please, please understand–,” Rhys begged. Before he could say another word, you had winnowed from the river house.

——

Launching into the clear morning sky, a scream of despair ripped from your lungs. Dark swirling night erupted from you at an uncontrollable force.

How could he. How could they. Your brother, the only family you had left, your guardian and most powerful High Lord of all of Prythian, had vowed to die alongside his mate.

And with the pregnancy close to the end, and no solution for the birth to guarantee Feyre’s survival, that time was almost certainly close.

The thought made you sick. You could not lose Rhys, could not lose them both in one day. And the babe. Fuck.

You shot higher into the sky, where the air became thin. It choked you, helping to calm the storm rippling from your body.

Up there, in the highest of altitudes, you sobbed an excruciating cry of grief.

——

Azriel was always good at hiding his feelings, but this time it was pure shock that kept him as still as stone, his shadows wild as they swarmed anxiously.

Amren had scolded the Rhys and Feyre, immediately dashing to her apartment to sort through her books for a way to undo the death pact.

Nesta had swallowed her tears, while Cassian and Mor both let theirs flow freely. Mor pressed the couple, trying to understand the extent of the situation. Cassian grasped Rhys’s shoulders, overwhelmed with emotion as he promised to find them a way to survive. Rhys held the arms of his brother, thanking him.

Azriel couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. He didn’t know what to do. He desperately wanted to save them, his High Lord and Lady. But he was furious. How could they agree to something so selfish, when they each meant so much to their family? And how could Rhys do this to Y/N, his sister? How could he hurt her so? Azriel’s anger burned for her.

Suddenly, he felt an urgent tug in his gut, a familiar feeling he had felt that night so long ago. Find her, his shadows whispered.

As he turned to leave, Rhys called to him. “Brother?”

Az threw his answer over his shoulder, not bothering to face his High Lord. “I need to find Y/N.” His tone was cold.

Rhys nodded, not in a position to push. Azriel stalked off.

He knew where to find you. It was the same pull, the same rope that helped guide him to you the night you were attacked.

——

You threw your night magic against the cliff wall of the lookout. This was a private place of yours, a clearing in the cliffs on the Sidra that served as a place of tranquility and respite. It offered you no comfort today.

Your magic burst into dark flames on impact, rage continuing to burn within you.

Your hands shook as you examined the markings your magic left on the rock. You had never having seen your power take this form. You fingered the ash it left behind, and the rock crumpled under your touch.

It was a metaphor you did not want to acknowledge. Everything ends eventually. Everything turns to ash.

Tears poured down your face as you clawed at the rock, your hands burning as your magic began to build again. Ash continued to pull from the rock, your fists now full of it.

You let out a frustrated scream, throwing a punch at the cliff wall only to jump out of the way as a solid part came crushing down.

You huffed a shaky breath, moving to the clearing edge. You looked down, a steep fall onto a bed of sharp rocks that would surely end your life. This is what Rhys and Feyre would do without one another? They would rather die?

Suddenly, you were yanked you back from the edge, strong hands gripping you by your clothing, giving you a firm shake.

“Don’t you dare,” growled Azriel.

You blinked, shocked. How in the hell did he find you?

Your face softened as you realised what thought you were about to do. “I wasn’t–.” You looked in his eyes, their colour dull as they held so much pain. Azriel’s sadness broke your heart.

You placed a soft hand on his chest, his fist still gripped your clothes on your back.

You eyes welled with the same agony.

“We can’t lose them,” you sobbed.

Azriel nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks. He shared the same grief.

He let go of your clothes, placing a scarred hand over yours and the other around your waist, pressing his forehead to you.

You both cried, clinging to each other. Something familiar and comforting tethered between you, the warmth that shone through on one of the darkest days you had ever known.

--------

Part 22 >>>

AN: What do you think of this chapter? When I read ACOSF, I didn’t understand why the IC weren’t more angry with Rhys and Feyre about their pact, so worked it in for our reader. I really hope you’re enjoying the story, comment to join to tag list! 💕

Tags: @slvtherinseeker @judig92 @kennedy-brooke @hyacinthoideshispanica @brekkershadowsinger @its-me-meg @acotar-thirst @5moremin @honeyrydernot @azzydaddy @lucyysthings @highladyofillyria @paasrin @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @littleshopofwhoress @blurredlamplight @hanasakr @bookish-dream @fall-myriad @aistheamazing @jazmin2211​ @xenlynn​ @iangelofmusic​ @hades4life @solossweater​ @whatupmydudes01​

[onyxedskies]

this piece is for the wonderful, amazing, beautiful @dazzlerazz’s birthday so everyone go wish them a very happy birthday because they deserve all the love in the world <3

pairing: ashez

word count: 1739

Shez had always loved the stars. When he was a kid, he’d look up at them from his mother’s window, awestruck as she listed out names he’d eventually forget as the years went by. As he grew older, he used them to navigate the roads - or at least tried to. When he joined mercenary companies, the stars were companions, sparkling above them as they stayed up laughing and drinking late into the night.

His first thought when he met Ashe was that he was like the stars. The silver of his hair reminded him of the light cast on the earth during a new moon, the only light on the road from the constellations and galaxies far above. The green of his eyes was the same color as new spring grass, washed out by light cast by a full moon, and the way they sparkled were the stars accompanying it. 

He’d fallen in love slowly, and then all at once. Ashe was everything Shez could ever dream of, kind and caring but also so, so strong. He watched him with the kids he found in town, and Goddess, he was so good with them. He watched him on the training grounds, forever awestruck at the strong build he hid beneath his bulky knights garb. 

Shez was infatuated with the way his eyes lit up as Ashe talked to him about his passions - the knight stories, his family, his dreams for the future that slowly but surely shifted from “his” to “theirs”. He noticed the way he always stopped whenever he saw violets, even if it was just for a second. He loved the way he always wore the flower crowns the kids they came across gave him, how he pushed Felix’s teasing words away and sometimes went as far to put the crowns on the Duke’s head. 

He loved the way he always caught Ashe feeding stray cats extra food on his plate, the way he always put a finger to his lips whenever someone caught him doing it, no matter who it was. (He’d never forget the laughter that shook Ashe and His Majesty’s shoulders simultaneously when Ashe had done it to him. He was glad the King was able to appreciate that little joy, and was glad that Ashe was able to provide it to him.)

He loved the mornings he woke up and Ashe was wearing his shirts, far too big on Ashe’s slim frame, giggling as they tussled in Shez’s attempt to get it back. He loved the rare days the two of them could just exist together without having to worry about a battle or a meeting, and could reasonably take a day off of training. 

He loved cooking together, getting flour in Ashe’s hair and Ashe getting flour on his nose. He loved sparring in the rain, laughing as they slipped in the mud, knowing that they couldn’t hurt each other. He loved huddling in their tent in the aftermath, stripping out of their soaked and dirty clothes and watching as Ashe tried to steal his clothes. 

He always succeeds, whether Shez notices him doing it or not.

His initial plan was to wait until after the war to propose, but he found himself looking at rings every time a jeweler happened to be among the merchants in town. He found himself looking at the decorative daggers on the walls of the blacksmith, found himself staring at the ones adorning Lord Rodrigue and Margrave Gautier’s belts. 

He found himself talking to Mercedes one day as the two of them organized some documents side by side. “You know about the various gemstones that typically go into jewelry, right?”

Mercedes gave him a sly, knowing smile before nodding. “I know some of them, yes. My mother and adoptive father have talked about them in the past. What do you want to know?”

“Well,” Shez said, feeling a blush begin to creep onto his cheeks. “What purple stones would you recommend?”

Mercedes leaned back, thinking. “Hmm… Amethyst is probably going to be the easiest to find, especially as we get closer to Enbarr. If you’re willing to wait until after the war, Iolite is often found in Daphnel territory.”

Shez nodded. “And those would go with silver, yes?”

“And diamonds, if you could find them,” she said, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “And don’t worry. I won’t tell him.”

Shez looked away from her, feeling his face burn. It wasn’t like they exactly kept their relationship a secret, but for Mercedes to be so certain of what it was? 

He supposed it wasn’t entirely surprising, but it was mortifying all the same.

And so he had gone to the next jeweler he found, talking to her quietly with a rough outline of what he wanted it to look like on a piece of parchment, drawn hastily in the dead of night when Ashe was very asleep. She had been happy to help him, telling him that it would likely be ready in approximately two weeks. 

He wasn’t sure how much he had paid her. He had no doubt that it was more than she had asked for.

He’d gone to the blacksmith next, ordering the dagger. It was simple, hilt wrapped in purple and blue leather and stamped with violets in silver ink, blade made of sharpened steel. He asked the sheath to have violets made of steel in the same style of the hilt, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly when the blacksmith told him that his special someone was lucky to have him, going so far as to offer a box with a slot for a ring, which Shez had happily paid for

The last part was the hardest.

Ashe didn’t have a living father to ask for his hand, and his older brother had died long before the two had met. He was a knight, though, and so the next logical step was to ask Dimitri for his hand.

Shez spent longer working up the courage to ask Dimitri than he had spent waiting for the ring and dagger to come. 

There was only a week and a half before the stormed Enbarr, and Shez was pacing outside the King’s tent, fiddling with the box in his hand. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to ten before stopping and looking at the flap of the tent.

He pulled it up, spotting Dimitri hunched over his desk, working by candlelight. “Your Majesty?”

Dimitri looked up, startled. He smiled when he saw Shez, though the exhaustion was still prominent in his eyes.

“Shez! What do you need?” 

Shez laughed awkwardly, holding the box out to Dimitri. “I know this wouldn’t usually go to you, but it only felt right given the circumstances. You’re the King, and Ashe is one of your Knights, after all. I am here to ask for Ashe’s hand in marriage.” Shez had no doubt in his mind that his face was as red as a tomato, but Ashe was worth the mortification. Ashe would always be worth it.

Dimitri grinned as soon as he processed the words, looking from the box to Shez. “You needn’t have asked,” he said. “I know you’ll treat him right, regardless of where life takes the two of you in the future. Of course you can marry him, Shez.”

Shez laughed, relief flooding him. “Thank you,” he said.

“Of course,” Dimitri said, still smiling. “I’m so happy for you two. If you need anything else-”

“What have we said about taking on too many burdens?” Shez asked, cutting him off. Dimitri laughed sheepishly.

“I suppose you’re right,” Dimitri said. “But regardless, I truly am happy for you both.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Shez said. A weight had been lifted from him, and he felt lighter than he had in years.

It took longer than he had hoped to drag up the courage to propose to Ashe, and he ended up waiting for the last possible second. They would be in Enbarr by noon the next morning, the years of war finally coming to a close one way or another. 

Ashe and Shez were sitting on top of a hill, basking in the warmth Enbarr provided, happy in each other’s presence. Shez’s heart was beating fast in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him despite the battle not yet being on the horizon.

The box was tucked away in his pocket. He was surprised he had been able to hide it, but he was happy all the same.

He was lying next to Ashe, who was talking animatedly about the most recent story he’d read. His hands flew this way and that as he talked, something Shez found so incredibly endearing.

“Ashe,” Shez said, pulling him from his tangent. “I have a question to ask you.”

“Hm?” Ashe turned slightly, making sure he was able to look Shez right in the eye.

“Listen, I know we’re about to march on Enbarr, and that the future is questionable at most,” Shez said, “but I can’t go into this battle without asking you this. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, no matter what your answer to this question is.”

He could see the gears working in Ashe’s head, and he let out a breathy little laugh as he pulled the box out and opened it, displaying the ring and dagger - both exactly what he had hoped for.

“Ashe Ubert, will you marry me?”

There was silence for a moment, Ashe staring at the box in disbelief and then looking at Shez. He was smiling the widest Shez had ever seen, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Yes,” Ashe breathed. “Yes, Shez, yes.” 

Ashe surged forward to kiss Shez, and he discarded the box as their lips met. He clutched at the back of Ashe’s neck, and Ashe had his arms around Shez’s shoulders almost instantaneously. 

They broke apart after a moment, and Shez sat up, grabbing the discarded box and grabbing the ring from it and holding it out to Ashe. “May I?”

“Of course,” Ashe said, breathless and giggly. He held out his hand, and Shez slipped it on.

It fit perfectly. Shez leaned in to kiss Ashe again.

There was still another battle to be fought, and a million more fights to be had afterwards. But for now, they were happy, and together. And that was all that mattered.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

travel books and romance novels // Colin Bridgerton

Summary: Colin visits the library for research into his next trip; he didn’t expect to find you.

A/N: Colin’s desire to travel honestly reflects my own. For purposes of the fic, I have aged Colin up - it’s more to fit the plot line of Book Four which is his book anyway. I’m not sure how to feel about this fic, I'm happy with it but I’m not at the same time. I’m not being too harsh on myself however, this is my first time writing for Colin and I haven't got to grips with his character yet. I hope you all like!! <3

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Colin is very cute, pining, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, female reader, she/her pronouns, marriage proposal, happy ending.

Word count: 4k

Colin Bridgerton had spent over two decades of his life on this planet and had yet to find something or someone he loves more than travelling. The bug first bit him in his early twenties; desperate to experience a Grand Tour – a tradition of which that had strongly died out in the past century. He had read about it so often; dreamed of it nearly every day that eventually he put the idea forward to Anthony and his mother, Violet.

Though Violet was apprehensive at first, she warmed up to the idea once Colin gave her permission to choose some of the countries he would visit. Anthony held no qualms; having travelled to France and Spain before tragedy forced the family title upon his shoulders. Being able to travel would forge Colin into the man he should be; it would give him experience, and plenty of stories to tell his children and then eventually, their children.

Upon arriving back in London after his second trip away, Colin found himself glad to be home. He had sorely missed the sounds and smells that accompany London; the clipping of horses hooves and the constant chit-chat of men and women. It was home; it would always be home.

However, as he stepped off the boat or the train, Colin always wondered the same thing. How long would it be until he craved adventure once more?

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

A month.

Colin lasted a month in the company of his beloved family before he was desperate to head off on his next adventure. However, he had no clear destination in mind. He had visited Europe, toured the Mediterranean and had hopes of crossing the Atlantic one day soon, but for now - to save his mother’s poor nerves - was content to remain closer to home.

He wasn’t one to visit libraries himself, usually sending a list of books with a servant whenever they visited the place, but this time he fancied the walk to stretch his legs. He had decided that research was the best way forward into finding his next destination, his next adventure. The library could offer such a thing.

It truly was a thing of wonder; so many books and serial publications at home in one place. The library at Bridgerton House was well stocked and Colin knew he could walk in freely and take whatever he would need, but there was something attractive about going out to find exactly what you need. There was also the added bonus of a lack of interrogation from his much-loved mother.

A huff leaves his body as Colin is pitched forward; barely catching himself before knocking into one of the shelves. Turning, Colin readies the words he wants to fling at the person who had yet they die in his throat when he finds you standing behind him with an apologetic look on your face, close to tears.

“Mr. Bridgerton!” You gasp, bowing your head politely and in apology, “I hadn’t meant to walk into you.”

Colin smiles, brushing down his suit jacket, “It’s no worry, Miss (Y/L/N). No harm done.”

“I hope not,” You reply, biting your lip.

His smile grows wider at the note of concern in your voice. “Truly, Miss (Y/L/N), no harm done.”

“Nevertheless, I apologise.”

“What are you reading?” He asks, nodding at the two books in your hand, changing the subject.

“They’re romances,” You admit shyly, “I read to my aunt twice a week. She rather enjoys them.”

“And you? Do you enjoy them?”

“There are some that I enjoy, yes, but I prefer books with adventures if I’m being honest.”

“Adventures?”

You nod, “I like them very much. What do you read?”

Colin frowns; confused at the question. You gesture to the shelves of books surrounding you, “What do you like to read, Mr. Bridgerton? We are in a library after all.”

“Non-fiction,” He replies, nodding his head to the stack dedicated to true life accounts of travellers. “I’m here doing research.”

“Research?”

“For where I want to travel to next,” Colin clarifies; walking towards the stack, all the while knowing you’re following.

“Have you an idea?”

He shakes his head; disappointed at the admission. For his last two trips abroad, he had known exactly where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do and see. Now, however, he was struggling for ideas.

You nod your head; seemingly understanding the predicament Colin has found himself in. Holding close the hardcover editions of the romances your aunt loved so much, you take a step back from the third eldest Bridgerton.

“I hope you find your location soon, Mr. Bridgerton,” You murmur in farewell, turning away from the tall brunette.

“I hope you enjoy your romances,” Colin replies, watching you walk away. Fleetingly, he wonders if he will see you again.

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

The library remains just as silent as the last time Colin visited. The books he had borrowed heavy in his hands as he returns them to the attendant who nods in thanks. Distantly, he wonder whether he will run into you again. Since meeting you last, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you.

Colin barely knew you or your family; didn’t know much about your lineage or even whether you knew of his, yet he had not stopped thinking about you and the way you held your books so close to your chest, as if protective of them and what they held even if you didn’t own them. He couldn’t explain the urge he had to get to know you. Colin felt certain that if he wasn’t to see you in the next day or so he was to go mad from the unknown.

Luckily for his sanity, he spies a familiar head of hair amongst the shelves, and he cannot help the surge of happiness that runs through him when he recognises you reading the spines of the books. “Miss (Y/L/N)!” Colin calls out in greeting; rushing over to you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” You smile, “How have you been? Have you decided on your next destination?”

“I have not though I’ll think of something soon.”

“I look forward to finding out. I’m sure Lady Whistledown will report on it.”

“I’m sure she will,” He drawls; his contempt for the author of the gossip sheet well known amongst family and friends. “How did the romances go down with your aunt? Did she enjoy them?”

Nodding your head, you explain, “Very much so. She usually stays awake for a chapter or two before falling asleep, but this time she stayed awake for close to five. I’m here looking for more books by the same author.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Only if you aren’t too busy. I wouldn’t want to pull you away from something more important.”

Colin shakes his head. “I would be happy to help.”

It takes the better part of an hour. Colin proving to be a distraction to your thoughts as you trawl through the shelves in the library. His very presence throws your mind into overdrive; overthinking his intentions for helping you, but also noticing just how handsome he truly is.

“I think we have enough for now,” You eventually comment, finding it hard to keep the sadness out of your voice as you realise that your time with the Bridgerton is up.

“Are three books enough?” Colin asks warily, as if he doesn’t want the time spent together to end either.

Sighing, you nod, “It’s enough to keep her occupied for a while. It takes us a few weeks to get through one book with me visiting her only twice a week.”

Colin nods understandingly, “Then the other romance novels must be for you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I much prefer adventure novels though I did tell you that the first time we had met. Though I suppose I didn’t make that much of an impression.”

“I can assure you; you did. I just couldn’t help but notice that you must read far quicker than your aunt so surely you must read the other books you have borrowed.”

Caught out, you avert your gaze back to the books in your hand. Colin tries not to smile in triumph but fails miserably. “How often do you come here?” Colin asks, “Do you borrow books for your aunt alone, or do you read to another relative?”

Pursing your lips, you think over your answer. “I only read to my aunt and I suppose I come here at least once a week, usually on a Wednesday.”

Colin nods, “I shall see you next Wednesday then.”

Watching the Bridgerton walk away from you, you cannot help but wonder what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

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

The friendship that develops with Colin Bridgerton felt entirely natural; as if at some point in your lives your paths were always meant to cross, and a friendship was to begin. Colin finds you in and amongst the stacks of books the following week; a triumphant grin on his lips and his eyes bright with happiness when he finds you once again in the romance aisle.

He starts to offer you suggestions of books to read, meeting you at the library week after week; all the whole continuing his research into where he wants to travel next. He hasn’t settled on a destination, yet he comes to realise that this is the longest he has remained in London in years. Usually, Colin would return home, manage a month with his family before taking off again. A routine his mother has come to despise despite offering her blessing for every trip.

Weeks continue to pass and whilst his family know that Colin has become infatuated with someone, he isn’t ready to share you with them yet. He isn’t ready for the inspecting glances and interrogations from his mother, brothers, and sisters. For now, Colin was more than content to share you with the romance books you swear you don’t love as much as you truly do.

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

The café is busy and getting busier from a lunch rush when Colin sits down across from you. His hair remains a mess despite how often he runs his hands through it in an attempt to flatten it; his eyes are bright as he smiles widely at you.

“I thought you were going to be late,” You admonish, but there’s no heat behind it.

Colin takes a sip of his tea, “I could never be late, not for you.”

“You’re a flatterer.”

“And you’re a romance fan, no matter how many times you try to deny it. Tell me, what are you reading right now?”

You purse your lips, deciding whether to relay the information to him, but the longer you wait, the larger his smile gets. “Definitely not those novels,” You comment, “There is romance in my latest book, but I am reading it for the adventure. It has pirates if you must know, very adventurous.”

Colin laughs, reaching for one of the small cakes on the stand.

“I don’t know how I stand your company,” You complain, trying your best to calm your stomach long enough for you to enjoy the food on your plate. The butterflies raging there were making it rather hard.

“You like me, that’s why.”

“I suppose that is more judgement on me than it is you.”

Colin’s only answer is to wink before returning his attention to the food on his plate. For a while, it is silent between the two of you. happy smiles are exchanged between you both and quiet laughter when you both reach for the same cake; Colin, ever so gracious, lets you have the cake. Instead, he tops up his tea and then yours from the teapot.

“I would like to visit Russia next; I think – St. Petersburg,” Colin declares, breaking the silence once and for all.

“Truly? You would travel so far?” You ask, eyes wandering to the globe on the table in the corner of the room, a display item. Centred on England, Russia could not be seen for the distance between them.

“I’d travel to all four corners of the earth if I could,” Colin admits, voice honest.

You sit back in your chair, eyes wide with wonder at the prospect of travelling even outside the county without a chaperone. “I’d love to travel.”

“It is a marvel,” Colin smiles, thinking back to his trips through Europe and the Mediterranean.

“The only chance I’ll get to travel is on my honeymoon which will be a marvel in itself,” You reply, picking at an invisible thread on your skirts.

“Why?”

You sigh, “Mother doesn’t hold much hope for my marrying. She believes that I have been out for too many seasons and have nothing left to offer that could possibly entice a man into courting me, never mind proposing.”

Colin finds himself gripping the arm of his chair in an attempt to keep his anger at bay. Such words leaving your mouth should be a crime. You have plenty to offer. However, at the sight of your slumped shoulders and sad eyes, Colin realises that you believe the words of your mother; that you truly have nothing left to offer.

On a whim, Colin asks, “Are you attending the Duchess of Hasting’s ball tonight?”

Shaking your head, you explain, “Mother isn’t one for huge events no matter the title of its holder.”

Colin surges forward, grasping your gloved hand, “Come, please. My sister won’t mind. I’ll have her add you to the guest list and send a carriage for you.”

You remain silent as you think over his proposition, ready to turn him down and return to your life of safety but the determination in his eyes and the joy in his smile leaves you nodding your head instead.

“Alright,” You agree, “I shall wait for you carriage.”

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

The London home of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings could only be described as grand. Candles line the way to courtyard in which the ball would be held; they provide a romantic atmosphere, providing many a dark corner where young couples could sneak away from their chaperones.

Upon your announcement, you find yourself walking through the large crowd of people, unwittingly searching for the familiar head of brown hair. He finds you first, however, smiling widely as he notices you in the crowd.

Colin excuses himself from his conversation; making his way over to you as fast as he can without bringing too much attention to himself.

“You came,” Colin breathes as if in disbelief that you stand before him. His eyes run over you; taking it all in as his heart races. He hasn’t felt like this before; he hasn’t ever known anyone to make him feel like this. Colin feels as if he wants to show you everything, introduce you to everyone, but also keep you for himself should anyone want to steal you away.

“I said I would,” You smile, heated from his attention.

“You look beautiful,” Colin states truthfully.

“Thank you,” You answer, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you care to dance?” Colin asks, a hand outstretched and waiting.

Smiling, you nod your acceptance. You take his offered hand, letting him leads you to the dancefloor where many other couples are readying themselves for the opening notes of the dance. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Anthony’s eldest brother getting ready to dance with his wife, Kate. He offers Colin a smile and a nod to which Colin’s shoulders relax somewhat. You raise an eyebrow at the brunette only for Colin to shake his head; nothing you need to worry about.

Colin’s hands find themselves in the correct position son your body as you reach for his free hand, resting your hand on his shoulder. The music soon starts up and Colin begins to lead you round the dancefloor in a flurry of spins that leaves you giggling. His face lights up at the sound of your laughter, soon finding himself joining in.

“Stay for one more dance?” He asks as the music dies and you pull away, desperate not to let go of you just yet, happy enough right now to feel your hand in his and your body pressed so close.

“I’d love to,” You answer honestly, letting yourself be pulled back to the dancefloor where Colins hands soon start to feel like home on your body.

By the end of the second dance, you begin to feel dizzy from the spinning. Smiling gratefully at Colin, you apologise for having to bow out. He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand, “Shall we get a drink? I’m sure I saw some lemonade not too long ago.”

“Lemonade sounds perfect. I seem to have worked up quite a thirst.”

“Then by all means,” Colin declares, bowing dramatically at the waist, “We must get the lady a drink.”

Laughing softly, you follow Colin to the drinks table where he hands you a small glass of the cold drink. He goes to take a drink from his own glass but is distracted by his mother calling his name. Colin apologises before leaving you in the company of his sisters, Eloise and Hyacinth.

“Good evening, mother,” Colin greets, dropping his head to kiss her on her cheek.

“Two dances in a row?” She asks as greeting, curious to know just who has distracted her son in this manner.

Colin ducks his head; not ashamed to have been caught out in his feelings, but ashamed that he hasn’t introduced you to his family as of yet. Across the room, despite the music, he hears your laughter. His attention rests on you as he watches you laugh at something said by either Eloise or Hyacinth. Your smile is wide as you try to cover it with your hand; trying to be polite but neither sister care that much as they continue to make you laugh.

You’re beautiful, he realises. He’s known it all along, of course, but with that smile on your face, Colin cannot help but desire to be the one who brings such a smile to life. He wants to be the cause of your smiles and your laughter; the reasons why your eyes crinkle in the corner. He wants it all; he wants it with you.

“I think you know why you haven’t set off on another adventure,” Violet states pointedly; eyes dancing between her son and where you stand, talking to Eloise and Hyacinth. A mother always knows.

Colin’s eyes don’t need to follow his mother’s; they had been on you since you excused yourself from him. He’s finally ready to confront what he had known along. “I think I know too. Do you approve?” He asks; realising he sounds like a child desperate for his mother’s attention.

Violet Bridgerton smiles, brushing Colin’s cheek softly with a gloved hand. “I think you suit each other perfectly.”

The smile that breaks over Colin’s face could only be described as blinding as he takes his mother’s hand from his face, kissing the back of it before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Against her cheek, he whispers, “Thank you, mother.”

Violet nods, eyes lined with tears as she watches her third eldest son walk away from her. She would be the first to admit how well suited you both are; the need for adventure alive in the both of you. She shakes her head fondly as she watches her son make his way over to you; holding out his hand, asking you to dance to which you graciously accept.

Violet begins to walk the outskirts of the ballroom; feeling nothing but pride and happiness for each one of her children and elated in the knowledge that there was soon to be another marriage in the Bridgerton household.

-----------

The morning after the ball is a pleasant one. The weather wonderfully warm as the sun shines through the windows; heating the drawing room pleasantly. Turning your face, you take in the rays, careful not to risk too much exposure.

Your latest read remains open on your lap as you continue to bask in the warmth of the sun. So far, the book has captured your attention and has failed to let it go. The heroine of the novel too relatable personality wise for you to take a break long enough. At this point in the novel, she had offered an ultimatum to her suitor – he can join her on her next escapade, or he can find another woman to marry. You could only hope he would join her in her next adventure; their comradery was too perfect to end so suddenly.

However, after the events of last night, you found it hard to focus on the book long enough to turn the page. Instead, you found yourself reading the same line over and over again, desperately trying to lose yourself in the witty prose of the author.

But your mind focused on last night: the music, the dancing, the company. It had been a dream; it felt like a dream – only your mind could cook something up so perfect, yet deep down you knew you had experienced every second. You were certain you were still dizzy from the spins you had taken when dancing with Colin.

Biting your lip, you think back to the three dances you had shared with the third eldest Bridgerton. Three dances – could it be true? Shaking your head, you answer your own question. It was true; you remember every moment with crystal clarity. Three dances with Colin had to mean something; it had to mean he felt something for you. Your heart begins to race as you think of the possibilities

“Miss,” Your Butler states, interrupting your daydreaming, “A Mr. Colin Bridgerton is here to call on you.”

“Show him in,” You answer, standing from your window seat, brushing down the skirts of you dress. Biting your lip, you could only hope that you looked presentable.

“(Y/N),” Colin greets as he enters the room, a large smile on his face. A bouquet of red roses and lady’s breath in his hand that he offers to you.

“They’re beautiful, Colin. Thank you,” You whisper, eyes darting around the room for a vase. They would be put in there after Colin had left.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“What did I do to deserve flowers though?” You ask, a teasing note in your voice.

Colin smiles, “I know where I want to travel to next. I came to tell you.”

A pang of disappointment rushes through your body soon followed by upset. Placing the flowers on the nearest table, you do what you can to avoid his gaze as you ask, “When do you leave?”

“That’s the thing,” He starts, shifting nervously, “I have something to ask of you before.”

“What?”

“Travel with me. Come with me,” He all but pleads, reaching for your hand, “As my wife.”

Your eyes widen as Colin’s grip on your hand tightens. “What?” You question, breath coming in a hurry. “What are you asking me, Colin?”

“I’m asking you to marry me so we can travel together. I’ve seen the world once; I want to see it again with you.”

“I have to admit this isn’t what I expected today,” You ramble, trying your best to not look into his eyes. The moment you do, you’re done for.

“(Y/N)…” Colin interrupts, cutting off your nervous rambling. “I need to know an answer, love.”

It’s only then that you let yourself look into his blue eyes; reading the emotions written over his face. He was promising you adventure; the likes of which you had only read in books. Colin was promising you a future full of love and laughter; a dream you had hoped for since you were a young child.

Suddenly, as you look into his blue, blue eyes, it’s all clear.

“Yes,” You whisper, somewhat breathless but entirely ready to begin your future with the man in front of you, “Let’s see the world together.”

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff​

[angsty-violet]

I posted 554 times in 2022

That's 331 more posts than 2021!

44 posts created (8%)

510 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@archangelsunited

@ceylonsilvergirl

@nerdgatehobbit

@azzandra

@blessyouhawkeye

I tagged 109 of my posts in 2022

#fanfiction - 8 posts

#violet's life - 7 posts

#star wars - 5 posts

#moodboard - 5 posts

#writing - 5 posts

#obi-wan kenobi - 4 posts

#tea - 4 posts

#qui-gon jinn - 4 posts

#fringe - 3 posts

#danny williams - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 74 characters

#and explain the complex intersocial relationships that make up friendships

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So, @amysnotdeadyet wrote the best fic, and I have read it so many times. I read it so much that I got inspired to create a moodboard for it. So, here's the moodboard.

Go check out her fic Specificity. It is so good.

25 notes - Posted November 26, 2022

#4

Boga survived Order 66? Why didn’t I know this?

40 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

#3

Proposal

Steve was so nervous he could hardly stand it. He patted the pocket twice more, just to make sure that the rings were still there. He knew that Danny was going to say yes. They had been discussing marriage and particulars for months. He knew that it was a sure thing. However, that didn’t change the nerves that kept telling him that his partner was going to say no.

Steve drew in a few more breaths and tried to act like he wasn’t a crazy person. Although Danny hadn’t run screaming from their relationship yet, there was still time. He heard the door open and looked up to see his partner enter. Steve smiled at Danny. No, Danny was in it for the long haul, and Steve was ready to show him he was too.

42 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

#2

00Q moodboard

44 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

By far one of the funniest parts of Phantom Menace is when Qui-Gon uses a force suggestion to relax Jar Jar and it puts him to sleep and Obi-Wan knowingly says “You over did it.” Like, mate, how often has this happened that you know exactly what he just did without even looking at him?

But also Qui-Gon knowing that Obi-Wan can’t focus on piloting with all the racket, because he’s still an easily distracted padawan and not at all giving a shit about putting Jar Jar to sleep. How many times has this scenario played out anyway?

251 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[corvus--rex]

I very nearly used this one for the Prince prompt for Julance, and then came up with something different (not that I've posted it to ao3 yet, the magical au kinda got away from me and I've been trying to wrap it up). It's deeply sleeping and almost into semi-abandoned mostly because I'm just stuck (I personally suck at scene transitions). This one is a Human!Galtean Omegaverse with Omega Lance and Alpha Keith.

~*~*~*~

Keith hated these parties, even if it was in his honor. He always had. But being able to see Lance light up when they walked into the ballroom and then offering him his hand as an invitation to dance made it worth it. Especially when the offer was so excitedly accepted. When the familiar 3/4 time signature began, and the pair swept around the room wrapped up in the waltz and in each other, Keith was able to forget the reason for the party. He let himself get lost in Lance’s soft expressions and the love he held for the boy in his arms. Well, not boys anymore. No, they were both grown adults by then and not lovesick teenagers, but their feelings for each other had never lessened. And Keith was still in awe of the fact that Lance, his best friend since they were small children, despite their secondary sexes, not only loved him in return, but had accepted Keith’s proposal.

Accepted may have been an understatement. The night Keith proposed, in the heart of Lance’s favorite garden on the castle’s grounds, the Marmoran prince found himself tackled to the soft grass. His entire field of vision was taken up by an emotionally overwhelmed Lance, blocking out the stars that Keith felt paled in comparison to the Altean royal he was intensely proud to call his.

Lance, for his part, knew how much Keith hated these formal parties. But this one was all theirs. This was the party that formally announced to the kingdoms of Marmora and Altea and the rest of the world that the two royal families were to be joined through the marriage and mating of Alpha Crown Prince Keith of Marmora and Omega Prince Lance of Altea. Lance, and Keith as well, had been stunned to learn that their betrothal had been formalized when they were infants. Their parents were close friends, and the boys had grown up together, even attending the same boarding schools. And then, when the boys began dating on their own in their teens, their parents decided not to tell them, knowing that it really no longer mattered.

Both Lance and Keith were familiar with the music, and Keith slowed their pace with a twirl of his fiancé at the beginning of the closed cadence that marked the end of the dance. They came to a stop as the music died, sneaking a kiss when they knew no one was really paying attention. But of course, that night, everyone was paying attention to the recently engaged couple. There was no getting away from it. Lance’s older sister Allura had even commented on it, saying that it would finally take some attention away from her own engagement to Princess Romelle of Arus. But of course, as Crown Princess and Lance’s sister, Allura was there at the engagement party, Romelle right beside her.

That night, Lance proudly wore the last courting gift Keith had given him on the night he proposed. It was a simple band, inlaid with a brilliantly rich violet sapphire that graced the middle finger of his left hand. The stone itself, a marquise cut laid horizontally in the metal, was stunning, but the band was made of starlight silver, an alloy composed of white gold and luxite, a metal unique to Marmora. Truth be told, he rarely took it off, wearing it as a constant reminder of the Alpha who loved him.

Lance had already moved into Marmora’s royal residence and his own suite of rooms for the months leading up to his formal mating to Keith, but it was a well-known secret inside the castle that he hardly ever used the apartment, having instead already moved into Keith’s suite. Breakfast at the castle was almost always an informal affair, and house staff usually walked into the princes snuggled in bed together. Everyone also knew that Queen Krolia knew about her son and soon-to-be son-in-law’s sleeping arrangement and said nothing against it. That night, they had plans to slip away from the party when it was late enough and watch the fireworks from their private balcony. Their closest friends wanted to celebrate the engagement away from the crowded rooms of the party and had agreed to leave quietly one at a time to meet the princes upstairs.

But it wasn’t quite time for that yet. The party was still in full swing and the formal announcement had yet to be made. Keith knew his mother would be looking for them soon, and wanted to keep Lance to himself for as long as possible, even if he knew it was a lost cause. Case in point, the over-dressed figure of an Altean noble making her way toward them now that they had stepped away from the floor. Keith saw the exact moment when Lance died a little on seeing Lady Henrietta Remington-Blakely bustling her way over, her daughter Delphine following her mother with purpose.

Lady Remington-Blakely had always – and loudly – bemoaned the fact that Allura had been publicly off the market for years and that Lance wasn’t a “suitable match” as an Omega for her Beta daughter. Delphine, on the other hand, tried to distance herself from her mother’s whining as much as possible, and in doing so, had actually ingratiated herself with the royal family, winning a place at court over her mother. Delphine, therefore, had naturally been invited to the engagement party, her mother having the invitation extended out of courtesy. Delphine’s father, Baronet Simeon Remington-Blakely, had been invited as well, but the beleaguered noble was nowhere to be seen.

Delphine rushed the last several yards ahead of her mother, picking up her nearly floor-length skirt in a rather un-ladylike fashion. “I am so sorry, I couldn’t stop her,” she said to Lance as she approached.

Lance sighed. “It’s ok, Lady Delphine. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but she’s been worse lately now that your engagement is being made publicly official tonight.”

Keith nodded to a spot over Delphine’s shoulder. “And here she comes.”

Lance seamlessly slipped into his public face. “Lady Remington-Blakely, thank you so much for coming all the way to Marmora to celebrate with us. How was the trip? Not too strenuous, I hope?”

Keith and Delphine caught each other’s eye and tried desperately not to laugh. Lance’s seemingly genuine greeting and following question caught Lady Henrietta off guard, causing the woman to deflate from whatever she had planned on verbally accosting him with. Neither of them missed the subtle wink he threw in their direction or the small sly curl to his fake smile.

“Oh, well, of course, your Highness,” Lady Henrietta stumbled, caught off guard by Lance preempting her, “No, the trip over was fine. We accompanied Count Fitzsimmons on his private jet.”

“And how is the dear Count? Still as…active as ever?”

Count Alistair “Allie” Fitzsimmons was a well-known party boy, and it actually surprised Lance that Lady Henrietta would be seen in public with him.

“Oh, yes, I suppose so. He was quite charming on our flight over.”

“Naturally. I would expect nothing less. And of course, the announcement of my forthcoming marriage and mating is so important to us and our beloved Altea. Altea and Marmora have been close friends and allies for quite some time now, and my marriage will further strengthen that bond. It certainly doesn’t hurt that I’ve been madly in love with her Crown Prince for years.”

Lance had been so invested in preventing whatever it was that Lady Henrietta had in mind that he hadn’t noticed Delphine slip away to retrieve her father until she returned with him.

“My apologies, Prince Lance,” Sir Simeon said as he approached, slightly out of breath.

“Oh, not at all. I was just telling your lovely wife Lady Henrietta how wonderful it is that you could be here in Marmora with us.”

“Of course, it’s our pleasure to be here for such an important event.” Sir Simeon had far more in common with his daughter than his wife. Lance had wondered on meeting them the first time how someone so genuine and caring could have ended up with such a self-important woman like Henrietta.

Delphine and Sir Simeon directed Lady Henrietta away from the royals, leaving them in momentary peace.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[official-weasley]

Headcanon time! (Part 3)

So @am-i-space and I have been talking about dragons (as one normally does on a Sunday afternoon) and of course, our imagination went wild! Now, we know that our dragon lover works in Romania and we have learned about a few species (even seen a few of them in movies without Charlie but okay let's not discuss that here) of dragons but like, let's face it there are more!

The second I have learned about other schools and that they have dragons guarding the vaults in Gringotts I had a HC that the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary isn't the only one!

I can see one being in Canada, somewhere high up in the mountains and the same goes for South America. Of course, one would also be somewhere in the Himalayas. And let's face it the breeds we have all grown to love aren't the only ones!

Of course, Charles Weasley agrees with us 110% and after working in the Sanctuary for 10-15 years he takes a bit of a breather (not from dragons, of course) and travels the world in the hopes to see as many of them as he can. He borrows dad's camera (the one Bill got for him in my other HC where they go and see alpacas) and he starts his adventure.

So, let's start with the sea! I agree with @am-i-space like what do we know about oceans, really? Bloody nothing, that's what! So they proposed that there are water dragons and I am 100% on board with that. Just imagine them swimming around, ever so gracefully, blowing bubbles when they breathe! And they would have the most beautiful scales which would reflect in the sun ranging from dark green to purple and blue and even though they are BIG they are friendly and swim with the dolphins and communicate with whales.

Nobody will convince me that when Charlie goes to observe this beautiful behavior and hears the water dragons sing their mating song for the first time he doesn't cry his eyes out because he can swear that he has never heard such a beautiful sound before and would never get tired of it and is honestly thinking about moving in the middle of the ocean so he could wake up to those sounds every morning.

The next stop on his journey would be to find out if the rumors about ice dragons are true. Charlie, as smart as he is, knew that the most probable location to see if they are real would be the Himalayas. So he wrote to the Himalayan Sanctuary to stay there for a couple of weeks to explore in peace. The dragonologists he talked to there all said that they have given up hope to see one and that despite the rumors that they are hiding one in their reserve they had to disappoint him because they don't have it.

So Charlie put on the hat, the scarf, and the gloves (he knitted himself thank you very much!) and headed out, determined that he will find the ice dragon!

After about a week of hiking and his muscles aching, he began to lose hope to see one. He knew that he would need more time and that he would be ridiculously lucky to see one in such a short amount of time but he also knew that he has to take care of himself and put his health first so he headed back.

A day in, he heard something that sounded like a cry for help. It was in dangerous territory and he probably shouldn't go there but it really sounded like a baby dragon and there won't be a day in his life where Charlie Weasley wouldn't help a dragon in need.

He gasped when he came to the spot the cries were coming from. He saw something white and silver move in a huge pile of snow which looked like an aftermath of an avalanche. He hurried to see what was making the sounds and if the creature was okay at once.

The second he started to remove the snow around the creature he knew he has found one - an ice dragon! The baby dragon was frightened and looked at Charlie with appreciative eyes when he picked him up and started to look around to where this little guy could come from.

He remembered that baby dragons are really good at finding their way back to their mothers so once he brought the cub to safety he put him down and observed his behavior.

When his little ice friend stopped being disoriented he started crying again and howling toward the nearby mountain.

"Of course!" Charlie pressed his hand on his forehead and shook his head. Of course, the reason he couldn't find an ice dragon before, was because they live on the highest loneliest peeks.

Charlie was looking up at the one in front of him, thinking how in the bloody hell is he supposed to get up there with all his gear, tired muscles, and a baby dragon to top it all off!

Then he remembered that while it might not be humanly possible, a bit of magic could do the trick! He gently tied the little guy to his bag and took out his wand. He walked to the bottom of the mountain and then he cast the levitation charm on himself.

Every time he saw a platform that looked stable enough to stand on he stopped to take a few breaths and see how his friend was doing. The higher they got the more cheerful the little one got and Charlie knew they were getting closer.

Charlie put his wand away when they landed in front of what looked like a cave. Charlie gently untied the dragon and put him on the ground. The dragon let out the cutest little roar that made Charlie's heart melt and the ground beneath them started to shake.

Charlie gulped and didn't find his idea to return the dragon back home smart anymore when a gigantic version of his white-silver friend appeared in front of him. The dragon mother looked mad but cautious. The cub ran to her - trying his hardest to fly - and started making purring noises. The ice dragon momma sniffed her baby and then sniffed Charlie which was the coldest breath he has ever felt on his skin.

After she was done, he ushered her cub inside, and with a wiggle of his tail at Charlie, his ice friend disappeared inside the cave. Once his mother made sure he was safe, she turned back to Charlie and roared right in his face.

Charlie, who was used to dragons do that every day back in Romania, didn't even blink. His calm composure impressed the ice dragon and she carefully turned around and lowered herself to the ground.

Charlie knew what she was doing but still couldn't believe it! The dragon is going to let him fly on her! He was only so lucky 2 times with the dragons in the Sanctuary and they knew him for years and this one was just patiently waiting for him to get ready as if he was here every day.

The second Charlie stroked the cold silver scales on her back, the dragon started fluttering her wings, and before Charlie had a chance to gasp they were in the air - making a full circle around the dragon's home and then slowly losing altitude until they were at the bottom of the mountain.

Charlie thanked the dragon and apologized for not having anything for her to eat while the ice mother replied with breathing icy cold air straight into Charlie's face. He was observing her flying back up to her cub and he knew that he could take a picture of her but since nobody knew they were here and were probably pretty rare he decided to just keep the memory of the experience close to his heart and returned to the Sanctuary.

The last stop of his - so far absolute epic adventure - was the Sanctuary in South America which was hidden deep in the Andes mountain range. There he met a few very exotic species of dragons who reminded him a lot of the Welsh Greens he took after in Romania except that these were of all sorts of colors from red to violet.

After the tour of the reserve, 2 of the Dragonologists took him to what looked like a highly protected and secluded habitat and told him that they only share this information with other dragonologists.

Charlie was excited to see what they are hiding but he wasn't prepared for what he saw once they got there. It was a storm dragon - sky blue with a white mane.

"But I thought they were extinct." Was all Charlie managed to say before approaching the beautiful creature to fully take in what was resting in front of him.

The two dragonologists told him that he is the last of its kind and that he must be protected at all costs until his very last breath which hopefully the day that happens is still very very far away.

Charlie's 2 new friends allowed him to spend a few hours with the mighty beast and as he was sitting there, studying it, Charlie couldn't believe that all his dreams were coming true.

The next day when he was having dinner in a nearby restaurant he heard some of the locals there whisper about a creature called el chupacabra. He has heard of the creature before - mostly when he read Muggle folklore. However, these people weren't describing a dog-like creature. No! It sounded like they were talking about dragons except that they described the creature as fairly small and surely no breed of a dragon is that small?

Because this information didn't allow Charles Weasley the dragon lover (not obsessor, only lover) to sleep at night he decided to venture into the Amazonian rainforest and see the creature for himself.

He was only walking for 5 hours this time around when he heard unusual squeaking noises. They led him to a meadow that appeared to be empty at first. Because he was parched, he sat down at the edge of it, took off his backpack, drank some water, and unwrapped a sandwich he prepared in the morning.

The second the smell of his delicious meal spread he saw a few heads poke out of the tall grass. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes! They were dragons and the locals were right - they were so small! More and more dragons started to approach him and at this point, Charlie started to think he was in heaven because this was too good to be true.

They appeared to be friendly and awfully playful. He was also in awe by their size as some were as small as crup puppies while the biggest was about to his waist in height.

Charlie had no choice but to share his sandwich for which he was rewarded with licks and wiggling tails. These dragons didn't breathe fire as Charlie expected but big puffs of air that soothed him in this Amazonian heat. They came in all sorts of colors from different hues of green and brown and some were even yellow and orange.

They were absolutely beautiful and even though they had the structure of most dragons there was something about them that Charlie couldn't wrap his mind about. He narrowed his eyes and observed one for solid 5 minutes before he figured it out.

They had a fluffball of hair on the top of their heads making them the only breed Charlie has ever laid his eyes on to have fur and it made them extra adorable!

He spent the rest of his afternoon chasing and playing with the fluffs (as he called them) and because he was having so much fun he forgot about the time, making him almost spend the night in the jungle.

As he was returning he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading from one of his ears to the other as he deemed his adventure more than successful and he couldn't wait to take another breather like this because he is sure that there are even more breeds out there to see and admire!