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blossom-hwa · 5 months ago

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a very fine line, indeed [3] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: mentions of abuse, cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 7.7k notes: — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — assault/abuse scenes are not graphic, but please heed the warnings and let me know if any of it is romanticized or just written in poor taste--I assure you I did not mean it, and I will fix anything needed. — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true. Part 2 >> Part 3 >> Part 4

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When your stepmother announces that the two of you will be attending the Harlowes’ upcoming garden party, you decide not to complain. It isn’t as if anything would come of it even if you did. But the Harlowes are a nice family, and their parties are never too intense—it is perfectly acceptable to pull out one of your older, more comfortable gowns for one of these events, and not have to worry about having a new one made.

Not that you have the money to afford new gowns at the moment. But even so, re-wearing one of your older ones saves you the effort of having to fetch your embroidery hoops and threads to spruce up one of your gowns just to give it the illusion of being new.

The day of the garden party dawns grey and wet in the morning, but by early afternoon the sun cheerfully shines in a blue sky mostly devoid of clouds. The light drizzle of the morning gives the grass a little sparkle as you step over the green, and to make things even better, a few gentlemen engage you in conversation almost immediately after you join the party, which takes you far away from your stepmother.

It's a strange feeling, having people around who are actually interested in courting you. You are no stranger to having admirers, it is true, but any admirers you had never showed much interest in actually pursuing you. Even after Mr. Choi started pretending to court you, the general sentiment around you still seemed to be mostly look, don’t touch, until Lord Kim and his friends spoke to you at the Smythe-Smith musicale. With that conversation, it seems as though some final barrier has come crashing down, giving the men of the ton some sort of signal that you are acceptable for courtship.

You are begrudgingly grateful to Mr. Choi for proposing this idea, and to Lord Kim for being the first to actually begin courting you. But you can’t say you don’t find it a little demeaning that all of these men now asking for your attentions felt the need to wait for other men to approve you first before trying their hands.

Still, though, you need to be married, and beggars—or third season near-spinsters—can’t be choosers. So you smile prettily the way you’ve learned to and indulge them in conversation. Even though it is a garden party, Mrs. Harlowe has arranged for a short dais to be raised on the grass, a suitable floor for dancing. As the sun sets into evening, you engage some of the gentlemen in a few dances.

Eventually, though, your mind and body begin to tire, and citing exhaustion, you duck away from your dance partners to find some peace and quiet. You don’t quite find that, but you do find the next best thing—Lady Choi by the refreshments, looking at the desserts.

“In need of saving?” she says as soon as you’re close enough, her lips twisted in a wry grin. “Here, you must be parched.”

You take the glass she hands you with thanks. “Not really saving,” you reply, taking a sip. “I’m just a little tired.” You sigh. “How are you? Is your husband not here?”

“I’m doing all right for myself.” She smiles. “I came alone, but Soobin and his brother said they would join me later. They should be here soon.”

You nod, smiling easily with her. She was married early the season you debuted, but prior to that she had been out for three years before she and Soobin finally realized their childhood love for one another. They were married soon after, but they of course still attended the season’s events, and last year when it became obvious you were not to be married for the second year in a row, she was one of the few who comforted you, rather than mocked you behind your back. You’ve become good friends over the past year despite your turbulent relationship with her brother in law. You can’t imagine how she abides Beomgyu in her daily life, but you only admire her all the more for it.

“Oh, Mr. Choi will be here too?” you ask. “He hadn’t mentioned it to me.”

“Curious, aren’t you?” Your friend snickers knowingly at you. You roll your eyes, because she actually knows nothing at all, but it isn’t as though you can say that right now. “You two are so strange. I suppose it really is true that hate is closer to love than anyone ever thinks.”

You just manage not to spew lemonade all over your friend’s dress. “Love?” you sputter, holding your drink at arm’s length before you spill it more. Already there are a few drops soaking into your gloves. “Where—what—we don’t love each other—”

“Only love could have ended that horrible blood between the two of you,” Lady Choi interrupts, glancing at you slyly. “Trust me, Y/N. If you don’t love him now, you will come to.”

Only love. That, or maybe just a deal made by two desperate people.

“That is…a long time coming in the future,” you finally say. “He only started courting me a couple of months ago. We may be on better terms, but I’m…marriage…” You feel your cheeks get warm, even with the cool wind brushing across your cheeks. “We haven’t spoken of marriage. I don’t know if either of us is ready for it, or if we will even want it.”

Nothing you just said was a lie. But you still feel slightly nauseous just thinking of it.

“People have gotten married in less time, and with less reason,” she points out. “Perhaps as his sister in law I am biased, but of all your suitors this season—and you have quite a few more than ever before—I believe him to be the best of all of them, and the best suited to you.” She squints at you briefly, then smiles. “I never thought I would say that. But when I saw you two in the park, talking and laughing…I must say, the two of you do make a striking pair.”

Talking and laughing. She doesn’t know that you two were trading thinly veiled insults almost until the moment you saw them.

“Well, that is…very kind of you to say,” you get out. You take a sip of your glass of lemonade, ignoring the sticky drops still staining your gloves. The sky has darkened with the onset of evening so no one should be able to see it, but you can feel it. And with your hands cracked between washing dishes and the slowly cooling weather, the stinging lemonade doesn’t feel very good. You rack your mind for something to say, but behind your friend, two familiar figures catch your eye. “Oh!” you exclaim, relieved at the distraction. “Is that your husband?”

Sure enough, Lord Choi and Mr. Choi are coming over the grass, the last rays of sunlight framing their faces. Not for the first time, you envy your friend for her marriage. Lord Choi is handsome, very handsome, but your envy doesn’t come from his looks. Rather, it is the clear adoration on his face as he walks up to his wife and takes her arm so sweetly, the look they share after they greet each other that means a thousand things to them and no one else.

“Miss L/N.” Mr. Choi takes your hand and you nearly jump, still rattled from your conversation with Lady Choi. Belatedly you realize he took the hand with the lemonade spill, but he’s already pressing the customary kiss on your knuckles so there isn’t any point in trying to pull away. He doesn’t say anything about it either. “I didn’t know you would be here today. How long have you been?”

“Well, my stepmother only decided we would attend a couple of days ago,” you reply back. Relief helps you smile quietly at him—you can manage polite conversation like this. “I’ve been here since the afternoon. We are very lucky the rain stopped earlier in the morning.”

“So we are,” he agrees. His gaze skips over behind you, and his gaze turns nonplussed. “It seems my brother and his wife have decided to give us some time alone.”

You turn and sure enough, the two of them are disappearing into the growing crowd, happily linked by their arms. You smile a little. “They’re in love,” is all you say.

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Choi grumbles. “It was such a pain to watch them figure it out. I swear, Soobin was about to send me to an early grave.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “Was it truly so terrible?”

“Miss L/N, one of the worst things that can ever happen to you is to watch two idiots fall in love and not realize it.” He shudders. “Soobin would deny it every time I tried to talk to him. They just have to realize it themselves, and unfortunately that takes an eternity.”

You didn’t know Lady Choi before she was married, but she’s told you a fair amount about her childhood. And in the end, it always came back to Lord Choi—Soobin. How they played together as kids, how he wrote to her even when he was in school, how he comforted her after her first season out with nary a proposal in sight. It was so obvious to you just from the way she spoke of him that she had loved him for a very, very long time.

You try to imagine what it would be like to be around that for five, ten, maybe fifteen years, except without admitting that she loved him. You also shudder.

It must have been infuriating.

You say as much to Mr. Choi and he snickers. He doesn’t seem to do that around anyone else. Which makes sense—snickering is not exactly one of the hallmarks of polite society, tittering is more like it. But Mr. Choi doesn’t need to pretend to be polite around you given that you both have seen the worst parts of each other already.

Hm. You always thought that Mr. Choi brought out the worst in you, but maybe he’s the only one you can truly be yourself around, and vice versa. Flaws and all.

How ironic.

You drag yourself out of that strange train of thought with difficulty. Maybe you’ll probe it again later, but the idea that only Mr. Choi knows the real you makes you want to hide in the bushes and maybe scream. “Would you like a drink, Mr. Choi?” you ask, motioning to the refreshments. “It seems they have just refilled the table.”

Once both of you have drinks in hand, you congratulate yourself for having whiled away another few minutes of polite conversation with Mr. Choi. Then you realize that there aren’t very many people around here, so you have to continue talking with him.

Good God. You didn’t realize it would be so difficult to hold a conversation with Mr. Choi that didn’t involve insults that echoed around the ton. It isn’t that you want to hurl obscenities at him now. You just don’t know what else to say. “Any residual trouble with the mamas?” you ask, because your deal is usually a safe topic when there aren’t others around.

“Only a few of the most determined.” He smiles at you in that conspiratorial way, like you share a secret, and when you smile back it feels almost friendly. It isn’t a bad feeling. “Mrs. Jung…I hardly know anything about the woman, but when she puts her mind to something, she certainly does everything she can to see it to the end.”

You think back to the Mrs. Jung you know, all warm smiles and gentle eyes burning with a passion to see both of her daughters married to titled gentlemen. Her second daughter, Mihae, is a shy little thing—very sweet, very pretty, but very quiet. You wonder how she feels about her mother’s efforts. “Well, you aren’t wrong about that,” you reply frankly. “But she’s a good woman. Very kind.”

“I know. The two aspects are not mutually exclusive.” Mr. Choi sighs, then runs a hand through his hair. Your eye catches on the movement. In the fading sunlight, his brown hair takes on a tinge of gold, and for the first time you realize Mr. Choi really is handsome. You have never been blind to his looks, of course—you know he is attractive, the same way you know you are beautiful. But when he is friendly, when he speaks to you like a person and not someone he holds a childhood grudge against…

He's very handsome. And try as you might, you can’t exactly figure out what to do with this information.

“Your end of the deal seems to be going rather well,” he says, and you shove your train of thought away. You are never picking that one back up. He eyes a small group of men farther down the green, who all seem to be looking at you with varying degrees of interest. You’re quite sure they aren’t looking at Mr. Choi, at least. “How many suitors have you gathered?”

“A few,” you say, allowing yourself a wry smile. Lord Kim called the morning after the Smythe-Smith musicale, and for once your stepmother didn’t yell at you at all for the rest of the day. There were a couple others, too—Mr. Winslow seemed very kind, and though you don’t think much of Lord Fife, he at least made you laugh a little. “I suppose your plan did have some merit.”

“Of course it did. I’m a genius.” He smirks, his expression so self-congratulating as he raises his glass to you in mock cheer that you abandon all notions of Mr. Choi being handsome. You want to pinch him. Hard.

“Don’t inflate your head too much,” you snipe, taking a sip of your own drink. “It doesn’t become you.”

He snickers again and for some reason, you feel your annoyance grow. You force it down. You were having a good time, you remind yourself. Mr. Choi was being almost bearable—actually bearable, even, if you’re being nice. You just need to change the subject back to something safe that won’t have you at his throat in seconds, or maybe maneuver yourselves to talk to other people—

“Did you not buy gloves?”

You blink. “What?”

“The other week, when I called. You mentioned you had gone to town to buy gloves.” Mr. Choi looks down at your hands, then back at you blankly, completely oblivious to the way your heart has stopped beating. “Did you not find any? Forgive me if I am wrong, but you seem to be wearing the same pair as always.”

If your heart wasn’t beating a second ago, it is now beating fast enough that you almost can’t breathe. You look down at your gloves. You always wear them—you need them to hide the calluses and cracks that come with your housework at home—but no one has remarked on them before. They’re plain, white, and customary. You’ve always kept them clean and mended them to perfection and you haven’t had to spend your family’s meager funds on a second pair in years.

Why did you use that as your excuse to Mr. Choi? Why did he have to remember that? And why, just why did he even have to notice?

“I didn’t find anything that day,” you say haltingly. “And I haven’t had much time to go out since.” Your voice grows slightly sharp, and you can’t seem to rein it back in. “I spilled some lemonade on them earlier. I apologize if that upset you.”

A beat of silence follows. You bite the inside of your lip to keep yourself from speaking and making things worse.

“Damn,” Mr. Choi finally curses, breaking the silence. You blink, but his expression softens, looking almost contrite. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said anything. I spoke without thinking, Miss L/N.” He swallows, looking uncomfortable for the first time. You start to feel a little guilty for snapping at him. “I wanted to make conversation and so I spoke my thoughts without thinking. I apologize if I offended you.”

“It’s…quite all right,” you say, feeling just as awkward as he looks. “I must apologize for snapping at you. It was not so offensive a question, I was just not…prepared.”

Mr. Choi raises an eyebrow. “That might be the second time you’ve apologized to me, Miss L/N.”

You roll your eyes, but for all his mocking words, you can’t help but feel relieved that he let it all go so quickly. “As I’ve said before, don’t get used to it,” you snap. “And if I recall correctly, you apologized first.”

“So I did.” He smiles, looking almost friendly yet again, and it seems like he’s about to say something more before someone calls his name.

“Beomgyu!”

The two of you turn to see a man and his wife walking up, his wife holding something in her arms. You don’t quite recognize them, though the wife looks very familiar. You stare at her a moment, trying to place her, but then Mr. Choi smiles widely and calls out the man’s name. “Yeonjun! I didn’t know you would come today.”

And then it hits you. This woman was the diamond of your first season who was acknowledged by the queen during her debut, and who went on to marry the Duke of Hastings, only the most eligible bachelor of the ton in years. You haven’t spoken much to her, but she is beautiful, and from what you have heard, she is also kind, gracious, and very intelligent.

The Duke of Hastings also happens to be Mr. Choi’s first cousin, which explains why they seem so delighted to see each other here.

A sick feeling curdles in your stomach. What would such a brilliant woman think of you, sharp-witted and foul-mouthed, being courted by her cousin in law? Surely she has read Whistledown or seen snippets of it. Last season, there was a mention of you in every other week, and very few of them were focused on your positive aspects.

The two of them approach you with bright smiles. You see that the duchess isn’t just carrying something—in fact, she’s carrying her baby, which explains the servant trailing behind her with a small pram. Though your palms remain sweaty with anxiety, something in you melts when you see the child, small and giggly and obviously very happy to be in their mother’s arms.

“Well, we wanted to get some fresh air. I’ve been cooped up inside for too long.” The duchess smiles and in that one expression, you can see her kindness. “The Harlowes always host some of the greatest parties, so I thought we could drop by.” She looks at you, obviously not recognizing you, but her kind smile doesn’t waver. “Might I ask your name? I’m not sure we’ve been introduced.”

“Oh, I am Miss Y/N L/N.” You curtsy slightly, fixing a smile to your face. “My father is the Baronet L/N, I am not sure if you are acquainted with him.”

To your surprise, her smile doesn’t fade even the slightest upon hearing your name. In fact, she only laughs. “So you are the young lady Lord Choi was telling me about, the one who had such a terrible history with Beomgyu only for him to end up courting her.” She leans closer to you. “Between you and me, Miss L/N, whatever you did to him in the past, I’m sure he deserved it.”

Her words startle a laugh out of your chest, compounded only when Mr. Choi snaps “Hey!” with a deep pout. “I’m not that bad,” he mutters.

“Actually, you are,” the duke replies, smirking, which just sets you off again.

The duchess, apparently taking pity on Mr. Choi—she might just be an angel—segues the conversation away from teasing him to your courtship, which is a much less welcome topic but also one that probably cannot be avoided. “How long has this been happening?” she asks, handing her baby off to the duke. “The way Soobin told me about it, you two had been at odds for…well, nearly forever.”

You’ve told the story so many times that it is almost second nature for the lies to slip off your tongue. Mr. Choi nods to emphasize some points, and chimes in to finish the story off on his own. You look at him after, just for a moment, to let your secret understanding pass between the two of you.

“Well, that sounds just like a love story for the books,” the duke says, smiling in surprise. “I honestly never though Beomgyu would get past his childhood grudge. It’s good to see that he’s matured.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you tease, which sets off another round of laughs from everyone but Mr. Choi, who narrows his eyes at you with his mouth still fixed into that deep pout. “I jest. But I will admit, it has been nice to see another side of Mr. Choi that I had not been privy to before.” It’s as much truth as it is a lie, so you don’t feel much guilt for saying it.

Mr. Choi, likely sensing that you are veering back into teasing territory, swiftly turns the conversation to the duchess’s baby. Apparently she is just a few months old and already the sweetest thing, but she was a bit small at birth. “Should she be outside like this?” Mr. Choi asks, stroking back a bit of flyaway hair on her head. The duke obligingly hands the child to his cousin, and as he carefully takes the baby, you are reminded of how he spoke to your little sister that day he called. He’s so gentle, so sweet and concerned—he almost seems like a different person altogether.

“The doctor said it should be fine, and that it would do good for her to get some fresh air every so often,” the duchess says, gazing fondly at her child. It isn’t right, but you feel a little pang of envy—that she is so beautiful, that she can be so kind and have such a loving and doting husband as well as the sweetest child. She’s perfect in every way that you aren’t. “She seems to be enjoying it.”

“She certainly does,” you say softly, holding out a finger to her. She grabs it with her own little hands and you laugh when her big eyes find yours, wide with wonder and curiosity. “She’s lovely.”

“Would you like to hold her?” the duchess asks.

You take her with reverent hands, feel her small body pressed against yours as she laughs and gurgles at you. She reminds you of Delia when she was small and you helped take care of her, rocking her to sleep before she napped, walking her around your small garden so she could see the flowers. “She’s lovely,” you whisper again, more to yourself than anyone else.

When you look up, the duke and duchess are gazing at their child with undisguised fondness, but Mr. Choi seems to be looking at you with a strange expression. You frown at him slightly. “Mr. Choi? Is something wrong?”

He blinks. “No, nothing at all,” he says, that strange expression disappearing so fast you almost think you imagined it. You narrow your eyes, not trusting him completely, but then the baby gurgles again so adorably that you have to coo.

The duke and duchess eventually leave, and then Mr. Choi leads you to the small stage to dance with you twice. You spend a few hours more at the party, just chatting and laughing, before your stepmother decides it is time to leave.

When you go to bid goodbye to Mr. Choi, that same strange expression flashes across his face quickly before he bows and wishes you a good night. And for some reason, though so much happened during the day, you can’t help but wonder what that expression meant all the way home.

. . . . .

Standing across the ballroom, watching you whisk your way across the dance floor with another man, Beomgyu comes to the unfortunate conclusion that you are likely actually a good person. This is a very unfortunate finding, as it only makes it more difficult for him to dislike you on principle as he always has.

But he can’t exactly ignore it anymore. The fact has been pushing him to stare it in the face for a while now, but after the Harlowes’ party, where you held the duchess’s child with such tenderness and care…

Quite frankly, Beomgyu has never seen you look so soft in your life. He caught a glimpse of it when he met Delia for the first time, but your tenderness to those you care for has never been more obvious than in that moment when you held the baby. Beomgyu automatically distrusts those who are rude to children—he would never say anyone has to like them, but they are young and inexperienced and never deserve outright cruelty. To those who are not only kind to children, but actively respectful and accommodating for each of their individual quirks and personalities…well, Beomgyu holds such people in quite a high regard. It usually means they have good hearts.

As Beomgyu is beginning to see in many of your interactions with others, you have a good heart indeed.

When he saw you holding his cousin’s baby, your face soft with wonder and tenderness, it struck him then that good people are very beautiful, no matter their looks. And unfortunately, since then, he hasn’t been able to see you the same way he did before—pretty, but unconvincing in your respectability. The more he observes you, though, the more grudging respect he gains for you.

It is true that you have acted abominably around him. But Beomgyu now must conceded that he has let that part of you blind him long enough that he never bothered to notice how you act around others, too. This leaves a bit of a bitter taste in his mouth, though he has to acknowledge that he is at least as responsible for your mutual enmity as you are.

It doesn’t mean he has plans to apologize just yet, though.

The current piece ends, and Beomgyu watches you curtsy to your partner with a wide smile on your face. The man doesn’t seem to be one that he recognizes, and he frowns a little. Beomgyu knows almost every gentleman in the ton, simply by virtue of the season and attending school with them for many years. If he doesn’t know who this person is, he must be from out of town.

It isn’t that rare for some foreign nobility to attend a season to find a partner in London, but Beomgyu feels certain that he would have heard of such a thing from Whistledown. Perhaps this man arrived in the week between issues. The next issue should tell him more about this person.

No matter. You and Beomgyu agreed to dance a quadrille tonight and that so happens to be the next dance in this set. Foreign suitor or not, he should at least ask if you would like to take to the floor with him. He wouldn’t mind if you refused, as there will be other quadrilles, but he won’t break your agreement.

You fairly seem to sparkle tonight. As Beomgyu comes closer, he almost stops at the sight of your bright smile directed right at this foreign lord. You’ve never looked so happy—or at least so enamored. Which, to be honest, Beomgyu doesn’t quite understand. Yes, this man is handsome, but what exactly else does he have?

Thankfully, he gets to you when it seems that you’ve reached a lull in your conversation. He catches your attention and to his surprise, your smile hardly fades when you notice him. “Miss L/N,” he greets, bowing slightly.

“Mr. Choi.” You curtsy prettily, and that’s when Beomgyu realizes why your bright smile unsettled him—it looks completely genuine. With everyone else you’ve spoken to, your expression has been pretty but bland, pleasant but reserved in a way that isn’t quite yourself. Right now, though, speaking to this new person, you look completely at ease with yourself, and not in the way you are with Beomgyu, unafraid to bite back and toss insults in his face.

No, with this foreign lord, you look completely yourself in your most charming form. And Beomgyu…

He almost feels jealous of it.

“Allow me to introduce you to Lord Cho,” you say, breaking Beomgyu out of his rapidly devolving train of thought. “Lord Cho, meet Mr. Choi, second in line to the viscountcy of Kensington.”

“A pleasure.” Lord Cho inclines his head, that charming smile never once fading. Beomgyu has to force his own smile not to curdle as he greets the other lord in turn.

“Lord Cho has just come from the continent to join the season,” you explain. “He hails from Prussia.”

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow. Prussia is a great distance away, not one that most would brave simply to join the London season. He has enough propriety not to say that, of course, but he has to wonder why this Lord Cho could find no one in his home country to marry, with his good looks and charm. “My word, that is quite the journey,” he says neutrally. “I hope you did not find the travel too taxing.”

“Not at all.” Lord Cho smiles easily, which for some reason just puts Beomgyu more on edge. “I love to travel, and if in the end it was to meet Miss L/N, it was all worth it.”

Beomgyu almost gags. To your credit, you don’t look much impressed by his flirty quip, but you do smile somewhat wryly at him. “We have only just met, Lord Cho,” you say. “Do save your deepest compliments for those who deserve them.”

Lord Cho grins. “And do you not think you are deserving?”

That’s quite enough. Beomgyu fixes his attention on you before he does something stupid to Lord Cho, like roll his eyes. Or punch him in the face. “Miss L/N, the quadrille is about to begin,” he says. “I came to ask if you might want to dance.”

You glance at Lord Cho, but before Beomgyu can tell what you’re thinking, you’ve turned back to him and are putting your hand in his. “Of course,” you reply. “Thank you, Mr. Choi. Lord Cho, perhaps I will find you sometime later this evening.”

“I will count the dances until then,” he replies smoothly, and Beomgyu just refrains from rolling his eyes as he leads you onto the floor.

The music begins, and the two of you effortlessly take your starting positions. “How did you meet him?” Beomgyu mutters as you pass one another.

“It seems he is good friends with Mr. Jung,” you reply. “Lord Cho is staying with him while he decides whether or not he wishes to stay long enough to let a house. He came with Mr. Jung to this ball.”

This makes sense, to Beomgyu. Wooyoung is a social butterfly. If anyone in town were to have foreign friends, it would be him. He spins you under his arm. “You seem to like him very much.”

A little smile involuntarily curves your lips. Beomgyu isn’t even sure you notice it, which annoys him more than it really should. “He’s very charming,” you say. “And he has already asked to call on me sometime this week.”

Well, at least he seems to be serious. Beomgyu wants to ask more questions, but the music is picking up as it nears the climax of the dance, so he forces himself to focus on the steps first as you dip and spin and whirl across the floor. There will be time to probe later. Beomgyu doesn’t wish to think ill of someone he hardly knows, but he has been accounted a fair judge of people’s personalities. If he dislikes Lord Cho, there might be a reason.

Or it could just be that twinge of jealousy that he felt earlier.

No. He turns you under his arm, catches your hand. For a moment, the two of you meet eyes. He can’t be jealous—you two have no relationship. He isn’t even really courting you. Sure, the animosity between you two might be fading ever so slightly, but you are still a ways from even being friends. Jealousy doesn’t make sense. This is just…concern. Normal concern that one would feel for any acquaintance who might possibly be in a worrisome situation.

The music fades out, and as he bows to your curtsy, Beomgyu can already see Lord Cho glancing at you from one side of the ballroom with a group of what Beomgyu will assume to be his friends. Fortunately, the refreshments are on the other side of the room. “Shall we get a drink, Miss L/N?” he asks. “You must be parched after having danced so much this evening.”

You smile at him gratefully, and Beomgyu feels some absurd sense of pride that he’s the one who made you smile this way. “That would be most welcome,” you say, and so the two of you head to a table laid out with an array of glasses.

Several things happen in rapid succession.

One: Beomgyu picks up two glasses of lemonade and hands one to you.

Two: You take the glass.

Three: Someone’s elbow knocks into you from behind.

Four: You crash right into Beomgyu, and the two of you fall to the floor in a twist of limbs and lemonade.

Beomgyu blinks, drops of lemonade stinging his eyes slightly as he tries to take in what just happened. You’re on the floor and clearly took the worst of the fall—you may have knocked into him, but your cup shattered on the ground and little glass shards lie all around you, glinting in the candlelight. "Bloody hell,” he curses under his breath. Someone’s apologies sound vaguely against his ears but he can only hear your slight hiss of annoyance as you try to stand. “Miss L/N, come—you need to get out of the glass.” You cry out in pain when he tries to take your hand so he gingerly grips your fingers to help you up. “Come, I’ll help you to another room,” he says, glaring at those who have come to gawk at the scene. “Move, please,” he snaps at the crowd.

Somehow the two of you make it to a small, empty room, where a servant rushes in with a little basin of water and a cloth. Beomgyu looks at you, unsure what to do. Your gloves are covered in sticky lemonade and part of the front of your dress is also soaked in it, but worst of all…

A line of red seems to have soaked through your gloves. You’re bleeding.

“You’re bleeding,” he says as calmly as he can. “Miss L/N—”

“I know,” you snap, jerking your hands away from his, which doesn’t make sense because he’s the one who has the cloth to wipe the blood with. He doesn’t relent, though. “The glass must have scratched you,” he says, reaching for you again. “We need to clean it.”

You look at him. He looks at you. Then, almost as one, you look down at the blood seeping through your gloves.

Through your gloves. Beomgyu blinks. There are no rips in the fabric, just stains from your blood and the lemonade.

Which means the glass didn’t cut you, and the blood is coming from something else.

“Miss L/N,” Beomgyu says slowly. “What happened to your hands?”

. . .

You stay silent for a moment. When you raise your head, a dull expression resides on your face. “Leave me, please, Mr. Choi,” you say, reaching with your unbloodied glove. “I can clean myself up. You need not be here.”

Beomgyu snatches back the cloth. “No,” he replies shortly. “How exactly do you plan to bandage your hand on your own? Do you even have anything to bind it with?”

“Just leave me!” you snap. “I will find some way on my own—”

“Would you just let me stay here and help you?” Beomgyu explodes. “I know you don’t like me, but I only want to help!”

Then he remembers that the door is still open.

Dead silence falls. But though no one comes in and he hears no whispers outside, meaning their deal is probably still safe, he looks at you and you suddenly looked hunched in and—terrified. Beomgyu feels awful. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to yell, and I certainly didn’t mean to say that.”

You swallow hard. Beomgyu is reminded of the terrible night of that first ball, when Mr. Thompson tried to assault you and you went into something like shock. This time, though, you manage to speak. “It’s all right,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry, too. It’s not because I dislike you. It’s…” You turn away.

Beomgyu reaches out. Takes the hand with the bloody glove gently. You flinch slightly and he almost lets go, but with seeming effort you force yourself to relax. You don’t pull away even as he begins to peel back the worn cotton layer to reveal your bare hands.

A lady’s hand is meant to be smooth, soft. The hardest labor they might do with their hands is sew embroidery, or pen letters and documents every day. But your hands are rough, littered with small calluses and cuts left in tender skin. The pads of your fingers look pricked and raw while your palms seem slightly swollen. Beomgyu recognizes the cracks that come from the mixture of harsh wind and exposure to cold water. He got plenty of those when he used to play outside in the winter, but young ladies your age don’t play outside, especially not in this harsh winter season. These marks have no place on your hands.

So where did they come from?

Without a word, Beomgyu dips the cloth into the basin and presses it against one of the cracks still oozing blood on your palm. Silence fills the room save for the sound of your breathing, the ripple of water in the basin as he wets the cloth again.

“You’re not going to ask what happened?” you ask roughly. Normally, Beomgyu would bristle at your tone and the sarcasm littered through it, but in this moment he recognizes that this is your last defense in a moment of weakness. He doesn’t rise to the bait.

“No,” he replies quietly. “Not unless you want to tell me. I will not pry.”

You stay silent for a moment more. Beomgyu continues cleaning off the blood and lemonade, acutely aware of your eyes warily searching his face for something. He doesn’t quite know if you find it, but as he’s dipping the cloth back into the basin, you take a breath.

“On your honor,” you say, voice trembling, “what I am about to say does not leave this room.”

He nods. “On my honor, and that of my family, I swear it.”

Something in your face seems to relax, though your shoulders remain tense. “I have no dowry.”

This is common knowledge. Beomgyu says nothing of it, though, and just waits.

“My family is poor.” You state the words with a dull finality. “We may still have our house and estate, but we do not have a full array of servants.” You pause to take a deep breath and Beomgyu has a sinking feeling he knows what you will say next.

“And so someone must help them with the chores they cannot summon the manpower to do.”

Beomgyu lets those words mill around his mind for a bit before he says anything. “And that person is you,” he states.

Your lips curve in the semblance of a smile, though no mirth reaches your eyes. “How ever did you guess?” you ask, sarcasm in every word.

Silence falls again. Beomgyu takes the time to sort through the revelations you’ve given him. Your family is far poorer than the ton even knows. There is not enough money to hire the number of servants needed to keep your estates in order. Which means you must help them with their work, resulting in these rough, callused hands. Beomgyu can see exactly where these cracks come from. Doing laundry in the cold air, icy water drying out your hands while the wind chaps them…

A sick feeling rises in his stomach. No wonder you wear gloves all the time. And no wonder you have worn the same pair for…however long. Probably longer than Beomgyu even knows. You likely don’t have the money to spare for a new one.

“Does your stepmother know about this?” he asks quietly.

You snort. “Who do you think ordered me to begin with it?”

He stops. Stares. “What?”

“My stepmother hates me,” you snap. “I am a daughter, and not even one by her blood. If I wasn’t already known to society when she married my father I’m sure she would have dropped me off as a maid in someone else’s home and been done with me.” Your voice starts rising, but with visible effort, you rein yourself in. “Unfortunately, she is stuck with me, so I must earn my keep as a daughter who brings no monetary value to the household.”

Beomgyu’s head is reeling. So he was right—you and your stepmother aren’t on good terms. But what he hadn’t realized was just how bad those terms were. Not only does your stepmother know about your servitude, she’s the one who started it. And Beomgyu doesn’t have to ask to know that your stepmother has likely never lifted a hand to help even when you started.

He feels a little nauseous. Maybe you really do fear your stepmother, if your relationship is more of a master and servant than a mother and daughter. It sounds terrible, but the more you say, the more likely it becomes.

No wonder you are so insistent on marrying before society takes you off the marriage shelf.

Something of his thoughts must show on his face, because you jerk your hands away. “Don’t pity me,” you say dangerously, a snarl creeping into your words. Your eyes shine strangely and Beomgyu thinks you might be about to cry. “I am telling you now, Mr. Choi—don’t you dare give me any of your pity. I don’t want it. If that is what keeps you in here, you can leave right now.”

“I don’t pity you,” he replies quietly, reaching for your hand again. “I could never pity a person as strong as you.”

Tension hangs in the air, so thick it feels like a noose wrapping around his neck. Slowly, though, you extend your hand back to him, and the air relaxes slightly. “Does your father know?” he asks.

“No. He is always on his nth business venture, trying to make money for the household so my brother will have something to inherit.” You shake your head. “His last letter was months ago. I have no idea where he is or if he’s even still alive. Anyway, my stepmother would never have me work whenever he was home, and he’d never believe me if I said anything anyway.”

Beomgyu sucks in a breath. Lets it out slowly, very slowly. “I see,” is all he ends up saying.

You watch in silence as he takes a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wraps it around your hand, covering the cuts in the white cloth. It takes him a few tries but he finally manages to tie the ends in a knot. It looks a bit clumsy, but it is functional. “You’ll want to bandage that properly later,” he says. “Do you still want to return to the party?”

He sees the answer written on your face even before you reply. “No,” you whisper, and for the first time that evening—the first time ever—you look broken. It shatters something in Beomgyu’s chest. “No, I really don’t.” You swallow. “But my stepmother is still here and she won’t want to leave so soon…”

“I will send you home in mine,” he interrupts quietly. “I had planned to stay a few hours longer, anyway. If anyone asks, I will say that the mess was too great, and you went home to clean up and rest.” He holds out a hand. “Will that be all right?”

Relief crashes over your face as you nod. “Yes,” you say. “Thank you very much.”

The two of you slip out of the room. Beomgyu is thankful to see that no one seems to have been in the hallway. You alert a servant to the basin and cloth you left in there, and then Beomgyu manages lead you out of the mansion without anyone asking too many questions. You don’t speak until you’re in front of his family’s carriage and Beomgyu has given directions to the footman. He offers you a hand to help you inside and you take it, but you don’t step up yet.

“Thank you, Mr. Choi,” you say quietly. “I must apologize for any rude behavior I displayed earlier. I am ever grateful for your help, and your understanding.” You swallow. “I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” he replies. “And there is nothing to forgive. You were forced to show me something you have kept secret for a long time, and understandably so—I cannot imagine anyone would have reacted gracefully in the face of that.” He looks at you, moonlight glittering solemnly in your eyes. “And, Miss L/N, I swear on my honor and those who came before me that what you told me tonight will never pass my lips to another. Not without your express permission.”

You look at him for a long moment, gaze unreadable. “Mr. Choi,” you finally say, “for all the faults I once perceived in you, your honor is the one thing that has never been in doubt to me.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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theroyalsims · 3 months ago

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BREAKING: ANYA AND GUS MAKE GLAMOROUS SURPRISE FIRST (POST-WEDDING) JOINT APPEARANCE!

Just look at these two! 😍

Their Royal Highnesses Crown Princess Anya and Prince Gus made their first-ever joint outing as husband and wife at this year's Brindleton Academy of Cinema and Theatre Arts Awards, also known as the BACTAs.

The Crown Princess famously took over the role of Royal Patron from ex-Princess Eleanore, when she was stripped of her titles and patronages. Ever since, HRH has attended the annual awards ceremony to present the night's biggest award, Film of the Year.

In the past, HRH has stunned in her solo appearances, but this year, she finally has a date to the glitzy event!

Funnily enough, the two looked very much like a bride and groom. Gus, as always, looked handsome in his classic tux. Anya, meanwhile, wore a literal wedding dress to the event - a §5,380 Riod dress from this year's W/A bridal collection. The stunning fully-embroidered gown features a full skirt and an off-shoulder neckline.

HRH was also dripping in diamonds thanks to her massive diamond earrings and her matching bracelets and necklace from the Brindleton Diamond Lattice Parure. Of course, the cherry on top is her very-hard-to-miss diamond engagement ring, which she now wears with her thin gold wedding band.

The couple's attendance was kept secret, which explained the loud cheers from the surprised public that greeted the duo when they stepped on the red carpet. The royal couple left everyone in awe, and even the stars were, themselves, starstruck!

Actress and BACTA Nominee Amelie Grundy-Lewinsen posted a photo she took of the royal couple (see above photo), which she captioned:

"What a wonderful surprise to see TRH Crown Princess Anya and Prince Gus! These two are so beautiful together, they look like they popped out of a fairytale! I've never seen two people look more in love! #bactas #royalty #lovelovelove #sosweeeet"

The Crown Princess took to the stage to announce the winner of the Film of the Year category. The historical drama movie "Only" took home the prize, which was received by its director Nick Bahanchod.

We're soooooo hoping this becomes an annual thing for our favourite newlyweds because seeing these two in formalwear is always a sight too behold!

Also, massive congrats to Prince Gus for his red carpet debut and his first official outing as Brindleton's newest Prince (and Duke, and Earl, but you get my point).

And congrats to the winners of this year's BACTAS!

#ts4 #thesims4 #ts4 simblr #simblr #royal simblr #ts4 royals #ts4 royal #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal family #ts4 royal story #ts4 royal legacy #mystory #theroyalsims #anya #gus #my story

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dovand · 1 year ago

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i am as always thinking about 14 and the nobles... specifically 14 & shaun. CRIMINAL lack of 14 & shaun content . excuse me that is my emotional support deranged lovers-in-law prongs of a queerplatonic throuple V. that is my little scrinkly wet cat and his chill saint bernard friend. that is my symbiotic relationship weirdos who sleep back-to-back to 14 can a) leech his body heat b) cuddle donna c) not fall off the bed. that is my favourite “both wake up early but one of them is being clung to like they are a teddy bear and it is Not Shaun, who is making ‘too bad’ faces at 14 and tiptoeing away” dynamic.

(14 either ends up dozing again after he wakes up early or just lays there curled up thinking—but, either way, when shaun shows up with breakfast in bed every sunday, he is treated to the beautiful sight of the two huge autism creature eyes peering up at him from behind the most bedraggled mop of hair ever seen. whether there are any thoughts behind those eyes depends on whether their owner has been napping or Pondering)

(yes this is all made up in my head!!! yes i am dismayed by there only being FOUR FICS (4!!) using it as a tag and none of them (afaict) doing it in a qpr way. where is my deranged weirdplatonic polycule!!!)

further insanity under the cut pleasseee please please read. please i need to be insane about this with people

(also btw this post is about queerplatonic doctordonna, doctordonna shippers i love you and you are welcome to contribute but it is a Little squicky for me so if tag ur additions (so i have a heads-up) that would be so lovely and i would adore you forever <3)

shaun likes listening to people ramble and 14 likes rambling so it is a regular occurrence to find the two of them like. standing in the kitchen holding cups of tea except one of them is actually drinking the tea and one of them is talking too rapidly about equivalent exchange to remember to blink, let alone have a sip of earl gray that has veered violently past lukewarm and is headed straight for room temperature

if 14 is in a not-wordy mood tho… thru shaun’s expert tutelage he has mastered the art of the Dad Nod. he passes shaun in the hall and gives him a little nod. shaun gives him one back. 0 words are spoken but they understand each other on a deeper level than if there had been.

they go on a Family Outing to a thrift store. rose and donna disappear to the dressier sections. shaun creeps along the racks of trousers, solemnly comparing seemingly identical pairs of jeans. 14 follows him and stares for a while, then silently hands him a loudly patterned pair of shorts. shaun takes them without question and adds them to his basket & sylvia loses her mind just a little bit when she sees him wearing them

(^ this inspired by going thrifting w my friend and looking @ everything and then finding her dad looking thru the racks of shorts comparing two beige ones, and my friend handing him a pair of pink shorts with penguins on and him buying them. because he has some . i think plaid shorts? at home and when he wore them his wife said he looked gay. so he’s trying to do it More) (it's an incredible family dynamic there. i have no idea what is going on)

god jesus. 14 learns how to cook so he can be the housething (as opposed to housewife or househusband. he is just a weirdgenderthing. little creature). someone buys him a nice apron and he wears it with so much delight. chases everyone else out of the kitchen so he can concoct something lovely. runs out into the garden to stick something into an oven in the tardis kitchen because “i am not working with enough ovens, here, people!”. organises the pantry and gets this crazed look if anyone tries to stop him. “how will i know where things a—” “it will be LABELLED.” brandishes a label maker that DEFINITELY is not from modern-day earth given that it seems to take dictation as input and can print in colour and has not needed a refill of paper even though he has extensively labelled EVERY PLASTIC BOX of stuff in the pantry

sometimes he gets into Moods where he needs to solve a problem before it makes his head explode and that used to be a like. tinkering in the tardis thing. where he’d have himself and whatever poor companion he was with just floating in the time vortex for a week while he tries to make this bit of the tardis do what he wants it to. now it’s a day or two spent almost entirely in the kitchen trying to find the scientifically optimal method by which to make meringues. he starts gesturing dramatically with a spatula forgetting it is not a sonic screwdriver. makes a sonic spatula. realises he doesn’t often need to like. scan a pancake for malware. sadly puts the sonic spatula away

he is absolutely a nightmare to watch movies with btw bc a) can’t sit still b) so tall. either he is bouncing his leg and shaking the whole couch or he is stretched out across the entire sofa. no in between. donna buys a thick rug so he can just lay on the floor. the rug is TOO comfortable and he starts just spending time laying on the floor which would be fine if he thought to turn the lights on because people keep almost stepping on him while he’s having 4am Floor Time (on the nights he's not drooling all over donna's pillow)

if anyone else has thoughts about Them PLEASe share i will love you so much and forever. doctor~donna/shaun weirdcule is the only thing in my head

#me.txt #doctor who #14th doctor #doctordonna #donna noble #this is ALMOST fic but not quite. i feel like i should tag it something specific #doctor who headcanon #that works i think

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paracosmicparadox · 2 years ago

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So, I'm falling back into the FFXV kick, and I have decided that I disapprove of how little complex character development Square Enix has given the guys?? Like where is the emotional depth beyond surface-level cutscene angst?? So I took matters into my own hands and have compiled a handy little list of headcanons / expanded canons that I think make sense.

Noctis: Has clinical insomnia and frequent lucid dreams (sorta a given, but bear w me bear w me)

Feels the weight of having to take so much on from such a young age much, much more than he lets on

Loves to argue

Would've been happier if he and Luna stayed as childhood best-buds rather than betrothed fiancés (controversial, ik, but it just didn't seem like he cared that much for her romantically to me?? Like he obviously cared about her, but it seemed like a really strong penpal vibe rather than a "We're-gonna-get-married-and-be-the-next-hotshot-couple" vibe. If you disagree, coolio, I'm not gonna debate w you on this one)

Has a natural sadness to his eyes regardless of what he's feeling

Went through an anime phase (possibly still in his anime phase, idk)

Social anxiety for the win

Severe RBF

Prefers tea over coffee (black tea is best---particularly lavender earl grey)

Can play the cello (practicing tho?? Don't know her)

Writes the most beautiful poetry when The Motivation™ strikes him (usually when he's home sick and half-delirious)

Prompto: Has ADHD and clinical anxiety, but is undiagnosed and doesn't take any meds for either of them.

Is legit like SO SMART, but can never focus, so not many people take any notice

Wears contact lenses (he had glasses as a child and I refuse to believe he had some high-tech corrective surgery to eliminate the need for them when lenses are cheaper and less risky)

Doesn't drink caffeine because it makes him jittery

Doesn't drive the Regalia when the guys are around because having other people in the car distracts him from the road. Also he tends to drive like a speed demon, which worries Ignis to no end.

Sunburns insanely easily

Could legit become a hitman if he wanted to with the amount of gun-knowledge he has. It doesn't matter what firearm you put in this boy's hand---pistol, SMG, sniper, rocket launcher, you name it. He can and will hit the target every single time.

Addicted to adrenaline

Pansexual

Has a lot of self-loathing (we see a bit of this in Ep. Prompto) and talks with an online therapist about it via text whenever his lows hit him. He's making great progress in learning how to heal and how to accept himself for who he is beyond the mask he wears for others

Ignis: More than a little bit of a control freak, and works very hard not to be too overbearing or critical about his friends' misgivings

Hypochondriac

Wants to protect everyone all the time and mentally kicks himself when he doesn't get there fast enough

Is SO PROUD of Noctis's journey and felt a stronger hatred towards Ardyn than anyone else in the group for what he forced Noct to go through (he stayed up at night sick to his stomach with hollow rage and baked nonstop to take his mind off of it)

Can verbally obliterate a man, but only rarely chooses to do so bc he's classy like that

After losing his eyes, he notices so much more beauty in the world than he used to (the sound of rain on the Regalia's roof, the specific gait of each of his friends, the smell of salt on the wind in Galdin Quay, the flawless feel of one specific silk tie he has in his repertoire, etc)

His internal compass is never wrong

Regularly takes antacids for his stomach

Has the straightest teeth you've ever seen

Demiromantic

Gladio: Hates being wrong: it's his way or the highway

Actually so much smarter than the musclehead jock front he puts up

A little vain and easily jealous (this man has a Jealous Face like no other)

Thunderstorms are his favorite; his ideal place to be is at a campsite, during a storm, with a well-worn book and a mug of Irish coffee in hand

Would throw himself in front of a bus for any one of his friends

Would beat up kids for the folks he cared about in middle school and spent the time he wasn't training to be a Crownsguard sitting in detention with the most unrepentant, smug, and-I'd-do-it-again look scrawled across his face

Can make a better smoothie than anyone (except maybe Iggy)

Spotify junkie

Had a dinosaur phase as a kid and can still name random facts about them whenever the opportunity presents itself

Avid technology-hater and only has a phone to make calls and join the others in playing King's Knight since they begged him so profoundly (he's sure the thing's going to be his downfall)

Gets most of Prompto's pop culture references

#prompto #noctis #ff15 #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #ffxv #headcanon

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jungkookjeon0007 · 7 months ago

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Nights in Vegas | CH. 13 (JJK FF)

☆ summary: When Olivia flies to Las Vegas for her first ever BTS concert w/ her best friend, she was expecting to make lots of unforgettable memories... What she wasn't expecting was to end up with the lead singer, Jeon Jungkook, knocking on her hotel room door only to find her in nothing but a towel. What will happen when the golden maknae wants to see her again? Will it lead to heartbreak, or a promising future for them both?

☆ pairing(s): jungkook x olivia.

☆ ratings: (18+) for detailed sex scenes + harsh language.

☆ genre: smut, angst, fluff.

☆ word count: 2.16k.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lacie and I were looking hot as hell! She was wearing an all black outfit which consisted of a crop top, a pair of distressed skinny jeans, and high heels.. all paired together with a black leather jacket.

"Holy shit, I am in love with that outfit on you! You look amazing Lace."

She did a turn for me and smiled, "Thank you babe! But, I don't look near as good as you do. I love that jacket so much."

After thanking her, I thought that it would be fun to text Jungkook and show him my outfit since I'm feeling a bit naughty all of a sudden.

Olivia🌼: Hey!

JK 🖤🐰: Well hello beautiful. ♥️ I was just about to text you and let you know that I made it okay and that soundcheck went well.

Olivia 🌼: That's great! Are you excited for the concert to start? 💗

JK 🖤🐰: Yeah! I have been excited all day. But if I'm being honest, do you want to know what I'm most excited for? 😌

Olivia 🌼: Duh! Tell me, tell me! 🤭

JK 🖤🐰: Hmm, idk if I can tell you or not. It's a secret. 🤔

Olivia 🌼: What if I showed you my outfit I'm wearing to the concert? Would that persuade you into telling me? 🫣

JK 🖤🐰: I think that would be a fair trade.. But you first. 😝

Olivia 🌼:

Olivia 🌼: It's not much, but I feel pretty damn hot in it. 💁🏽‍♀️

JK 🖤🐰: Son of a bi 🤤... You look so good Liv, I am officially obsessed with you. 🙌🏼😩

Olivia 🌼: Stop it you're making me blush. ☺️ But back on topic, you have to tell me what you're so excited about now that I have shown you my outfit. 😝

JK 🖤🐰: Oh, right! A deal is a deal. 😜 I am excited to spend the rest of the night with you after the concert. I have planned some things for us back at my hotel room after our dinner date. I think you'll really like it. 💕

Olivia 🌼: Now I'm exited and curious! What do you have planned?? ♥️

JK 🖤🐰: You'll have to wait and find out later.... Oh! And one more thing, we will be all alone for the rest of the night. Hobi Hyung is going back to yours with Lacie, it'll be just the two of us. 🥰

Olivia 🌼: I seriously can't wait. ♥️ But for now I am going to have to go, I will talk to you after the concert! Enjoy performing tonight Kookie. Good luck to you and the guys. 😘

JK 🖤🐰: I will! See you later baby. ♥️

______________________

I smiled down at my phone, thinking about what he could have planned for us later when Lacie suddenly cleared her throat. I looked up to find that she was already smirking at me, "What?!"

"Oh nothing. I was just watching you stare at your phone while you smiled like a psychopath the whole time. Let me guess... JK?"

I smiled and shyly looked away, trying to hide my excitement.

"I knew it! Did he tell you that you all will be alone after dinner. Jhope is coming back to our room with me so you can spend time alone with Jungkook. No need to thank me or anything." She winked as I rolled my eyes playfully in return. "Okay Missy, want to head down to the lobby? The cab will be here any minute to take us to the stadium."

"Yes let's get going, I don't want to be late or be one of the last ones to arrive." She grabbed her wallet off the dresser, turning towards the door.

We both did one last mirror check and I walked out behind her, shutting the door.

. . .

At the Concert

[Author POV]

They arrived at the stadium with plenty of time to spare but found that it was already crawling with ARMY. Apparently they weren't the only ones who had the idea to arrive early.. but it worked out in their favor because they met new people and got to take pictures with other groups of ARMY's while waiting to enter the stadium.

Sometime after, they went to get drinks and to find their seats on the floor before the concert started. 45 minutes of waiting patiently passed and the lights suddenly dimmed, beginning the concert. The boys each came out behind bars with the dancers as the music started to blare throughout the stadium. Even though the two girls have been spending most of their time with Jungkook and Hobi, they both couldn't help but let their OT7 sides show, cheering for all the members at the top of their lungs.

The first song on the set list was 'ON' and as always they did not disappoint. They hit every dance step, every note, and the performance was absolutely flawless in every way imaginable. As it came down to Jungkook's solo part, Olivia couldn't help but get goosebumps all over her body at the sound of his angelic voice. Lacie glanced at her and could immediately tell how awestruck her bestfriend was by him.

She smiled to herself as she knew right then that Olivia had fallen deeply in love with Jungkook.

The night went on and the concert was hands down the best experience they could have hoped for. They were having the time of their lives, jamming out to some of their favorite BTS songs and singing at the top of their lungs with the rest of the audience.

. . .

End of the Concert

It was unfortunately that time of the night where the boys would make their final speeches one by one in front of their fans. Each member had taken their turn, leaving Jungkook for very last as he stood alone in front of the crowd. He immediately started to look for Olivia out in the audience, but when he couldn't find her he said something in such a way so she would know he was talking to her. "You are the reason that I smile everyday, so I hope I am your reason for your smile as well."

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[Olivia's POV]

As I was listening to his beautiful speech, I couldn't help but notice when he said the line about reasons for smiling. For some reason I couldn't help but to feel like that was directed towards me. What am I talking about!? I wanted to face palm myself for even thinking such a thing.

When the speech was over, I felt Lacie nudge me and as I turned to look at her, she leaned in to whisper in my ear, "That line was definitely meant for you dude."

I looked at her in confusion as she pulled me closer to explain, "The reasons for smiling. That was about you and him, I know for a fact it was."

I pulled away and chuckled a bit while shaking my head, "Don't be silly."

I played it cool but secretly I had so many thoughts swirling around in my head. - Was that meant for me? - Does he feel about me the way I'm starting to feel about him? - Maybe he likes me? - Is this more than just a fling?

So much was going on that I barely even heard anything else, my brain was swimming in questions that I could not shake off.

. . .

There was only 5-10 minutes remaining of the concert when a security guard walked over, motioning for us to come with him. Once we were out of the sight of ARMY's, we instantly relaxed and followed him into a room that was stocked with snacks and beverages.

"Ladies please help yourself. The members will be in as soon as they can." He bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

We were sitting on the comfy black sofa with our drinks having a conversation, when all of a sudden the door swung open 15 minutes later. We both snapped our heads towards the door and saw Hobi coming into the room. He shut the door quickly behind him as he walked over to Lacie, pulling her into a warm and sweet hug, "Hey! Did you guys enjoy the concert?"

Lacie smiled, "Yes! You guys were incredible and did so well. I am proud of you all."

He smiled and thanked her, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. She giggled as they both looked over at me, "What about you sugar, did you enjoy the show?" He asked with a soft smile as I returned it.

"Of course. It was everything I ever hoped it would be. Thank you all for being so humble and working so hard to give us ARMY's the best performances possible."

He thanked me and pulled me into a big hug. I happily hugged him back while smiling and right about the time we pulled apart, the door opened once again revealing the one man I've been anxiously waiting for.

He shut the door behind him and made a b-line straight for me. He stopped in front of me and grabbed my hands, helping me stand up, then smothered me in the biggest and warmest hug ever.

He then let out a happy sigh as he softly whispered in my ear, "I missed you so much."

I smiled as we pulled apart, reaching my hand up and running my fingers through his hair gently, "I missed you too Kookie."

He leaned in to my touch, carefully grabbing my wrist and brought my hand up to his pink lips, giving it a soft kiss which caused my stomach to erupt with butterflies. Lost in the moment, we both completely forgot about our best friends that were still very much in the room.

It wasn't until Hobi spoke that we were pulled from our trances, "JK, tell her about your speech."

Looking at Jungkook, his cheeks had gone red, "What does he mean?" I asked curiously.

He stepped forward, taking a deep breath, "When I was talking about the reasons for smiling, I was hoping that you knew I was talking about us. I tried to look for you, but couldn't see you in all the people so I tried to say it in a way that you would know I was speaking to you."

My heart was beating so loud that I was afraid everyone in this room could hear it too.

"I thought it was, but I didn't want to assume. Thank you for being so kind and caring towards me, you're the sweetest-" A tiny tear shed from my eye as he wiped it away and I continued. "you are also my reason for smiling everyday since I met you."

I pulled him close, attaching my lips to his. Without any hesitation, he pulled me in by my waist to get closer as we melted into each other. The door opening brought us back to reality, as we broke the kiss turning towards the door,"Damn, that was hot. Don't mind me you guys, keep going." Yoongi pulled up a chair and motioned for us to continue while he crossed his arms over his chest.

Jungkook naturally rolled his eyes, "Shut up hyung you're going to scare her away."

Yoongi laughed while walking over to me, putting an arm over my shoulder, "I am just playing with you guys. I always deal with awkward situations with humor or at least I try to. You'll have to learn to ignore me sometimes."

He showed his sweet gummy smile and that's when I smiled back. "It's okay Yoongi, I understand."

"Good! So, who wants to go back to the hotel and party? Alcohol and food on me?"

We all 4 looked at each other then back to Yoongi as his smile faded. "What?"

"I'm sorry Hyung, but we had plans for a double date tonight."

Lacie immediately walked up and interrupted, "Woah woah. Wait a minute... I know we wanted a romantic dinner, but couldn't we all just order some pizza and party? That way when we're all finished we can go back to our own rooms. We wouldn't have to worry about being seen and honestly, I am a little too tired to go out after the concert."

Hobi looked at JK as JK looked at me, "What do you think Liv?"

"Umm, it's whatever you guys want to do. I'm perfectly fine with doing either."

Yoongi startled me a bit when he clapped his hands together loudly. "Well, I will decide for you then. Pizza and alcohol in my hotel room. Be there at 11:30." He turned around, leaving the room to just us 4 once again.

Lacie came up beside me and whispered excitedly as she held onto my arm tightly, "Well, I guess we're partying with BTS tonight, huh?"

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bapydemonprincess · 1 year ago

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Imagine Grelle briefly popping in at the manor around the Book of Murder arc because of the weird wombo combo of deaths listed for that night and... wait... INCLUDING SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS??

And when she arrives she comes face to face with some charming older man named Jeremy who meets her in the rain as if he heard she was coming, and he smiles amiably with a twinkle in those eyes and tells her.

"Fear not, madam. I have it on good authority that the tangles and twists going on under this mansion roof will work themselves out post haste."

And Grelle tries to come off as unbothered, waving him off.

"Ooh, I'm sure they will, good sir. I'm sure they will. This isn't my first dive into the doom and gloom of Phantomhive Manor.."

"Then whatever could have brought you out here, then, might I ask. Surely with that fine lovely suit you're wearing, you are a busy lady, I imagine."

"W-Well, yes, normally.." Grelle cannot believe this. This classy gent is taking her for a turn! Even if... unintentionally. Almost as if it comes naturally...

"However there's a man that works in the service under the Earl here, and I... erm.. fancy him you could say, hehee.."

DID YOU JUST GIGGLE GRELLE, LIKE A LITTLE GIRL???

"Ahh," Mr. Rathbone responds... Pauses as if in thought; as if caught off guard, and then.. his visage seems to turn solemn, eyes closing, head bowing.

"This man wouldn't happen to possibly be the head butler, would he?"

Grelle flounders and merely hums her ascent, nodding. She cannot, for the death of her, get over her own current state!

"Hmph, well, I'm afraid I must inform you that.. that very man has perished this evening. After a surprise attack last night on his evening patrol, while he was stoking one of the fireplaces."

"THAT-" Grelle shouts outright at first, looking absolutely scandalized by this news, finger pointing accusingly at the Vicar.

"That... that isn't true." She goes on, voice lower, shakier, but still firm.

The man still has his eyes closed. Not budging nor flinching an inch.

"I'm afraid it is, my dear. I've seen his lifeless form with my own eyes, by now. Though I was not present at the time of his death's discovery, everyone else in this manor was, and if you wish, you yourself can slip in to ask.."

He does then open one eye, that pins the reaper in place with it's stern and serious look.

"Might I suggest in particular the other servants that served under him, for they will most definitely will have something to say, I believe, to anyone who'd object to this wretched truth they must now live with."

His other eye opens then too, and his stern look appears even sterner.. If that is possible.

"Or perhaps the boy Earl himself who now appears even younger, weaker, without that butler by his side."

Grelle still frowned, having crossed her arms tightly during his spiel, and merely stared him down.

Gone was the floundering brief glimpse of a debutante-like version of herself.

And here stood a woman with even more questions than before.

"I'll have you know, Mister Jeremy, this butler in particular that I speak of, and I know is much more formidable than you've likely imagined possible. He. Can't. Be. Dead. It's.... IT'S. JUST. NOT. POSSIBLE, do you hear me??"

And again, the man still stood perfectly in place, not even blinking before the enraged woman as she snarled her insistences through sharp gritted teeth.

"Oh yes, I can hear you quite well, my dear. But it appears to me as if there's a clear barrier between what I'm telling you and what you are hearing. And perhaps it could be the wretched weather we are currently prithee to, or perhaps it's something possibly.. unseen at work. Like a certain foolish human device in ones chest cavity shouting above my words, drowning them out. But there's unfortunately nothing I can do about that. And alas,"

He swiftly took out a pocket watch, and checked the time.

"I must leave you to return to the others. As I explained earlier I've put it upon myself to help the Earl and his remaining guests solve this case, so,"

He clapped it shut, and looked up at the reaper again.

"I wish you well, madam, and pray that if perhaps we next meet it'll be on better terms. For both our sakes."

And his smile then at her was as smooth as a pearl, eyes closed and cheery wrinkles presenting themselves even more so.

He means only the best.. A voice insisted to Grelle, and she found her muscles relaxing.

Her eyebrows remained firmly pressed down, though, her mouth a single line.

"Yes," she heard her own voice murmur over the rumble of thunder, "for both our sakes, indeed."

And she automatically turned away as the man himself turned too.

Both parties quietly trudging away from the scene.

And yet Grelle's mind spun round and round at break-neck speed.

Something was definitely up here. For there was too many peculiar things going on in this one moment alone!

This Jeremy himself. A Vicar?? At Ciel Phantomhive's place?? In the middle of this storm that had likely been going on since earlier that day.. No, even since yesterday Grelle was certain the rain had been falling.

And his stance. How he was the one to come to her in this moment. Not any other servants! He was merely visiting wasn't he?? He surely wasn't planning on staying much longer after this event!

And and and..

Grelle wanted to hold her head and curl up.

He... He was either ACTUALLY the one somehow to KILL SEBASTIAN or.... or... OR....

...........

....

The pocket watch.

#kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #grelle sutcliff #grell sutcliff #sebagrelle #sebagrell #jeremy rathbone #book of murder #my writing #ANYWAY there was more and the jeremy grelle interactions was gonna get saucy but idk....

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berrypass-de-murdler · 8 months ago

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12. The Mysterious Mystery Bookshop Mystery

My apologies for no daily episode yesterday... had to do a thing and when I came home I couldn't think anymore. But I can think now!!

And also have these two I made yesterday to make up for it!

Signor Emerald, I'm not super proud of him but what am I gonna do, lol. He's one of the few Murdlers that can FLYYY so he can probably make an easy getaway.

Earl Grey, one of my least favorite characters! ^w^ I followed your suggestions and he turned out just GORGEOUS(?) His head is full of his liquid brains, and he dunks his doppelganger cup into it and then drinks the liquid!! EW

EPISODE TIME, featuring also

DIRECTOR DUSTY - What am I supposed to say about this freak - he's a 'hedgehawk'! Literally always screaming through his megaphone, and wearing absolutely nothing I guess. Like many, he has no redeeming qualities :3

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico goes to the bookshop to catch up on his Obsidian novels. But some rando is dead. He meets up with Slate and Champagne, and some idiot named Director Dusty.

SLATE: There are some books in here that will kill you if you touch the ink. LOGICO: Beautiful.

He doesn’t get much info except that Dusty is stupid.

DUSTY: THEY DON’T HAVE DISCOUNT FILM BOOKS!!

Logico catches a glimpse of a shady figure doing graffiti, but they run away so he can’t catch them. Luckily Logico doesn't need that person.

CHAMPAGNE: I’m only being arrested because of the bourgeoisie reactionaries who will never stop the revolution, and the commoners who kill for- LOGICO: Don’t care, grabbing books!!

The end!

If you thought this was bad wait til I do the Obsidian book saga

OH GOD THE BOOK SAGA

(I'm gonna just cram the next three episodes into one post because nothing happens in them-)

I can't wait to get to the longer episodes lol, they DO get longer from here (excluding the book saga)

ALSO!!!

I ordered my Irratino plushie from Budsies!! I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MY PERFECT LITTLE GOAT LORD <3 <3

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

#murdle #cartoonmurdleverse

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blackbutler-sideblog · 1 year ago

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Dadbastian Week Day 3: Trick or Treat

30 MINUTES BEFORE THE DAY IS OVER LET'S GOOOOO!!!

Anyway, this became a lot longer than I intended to but y'know what.. It is what it is lol. I hope everyone had an awesome Halloween and I hope you enjoy this spooky-themed story! Please let me know what y'all think and remember, constructive criticism is always allowed! Just a quick note: the story that Bard tells here is a real urban legend that I tweaked a little bit.

The Halloween party was a great success.

The idea of combining the traditions of Halloween from different cultures had been an excellent idea if he said so himself. The villagers were thoroughly impressed by the festive decorations, having never seen a Halloween party quite like this before. There were lights and jack-o-lanterns strewn about all throughout the garden. Paper lanterns shaped like witches and ghosts hung carefully from the trees which several children tried (and failed) to jump up and grab. Adults and children alike enjoyed the many activities provided, from apple bobbing to pumpkin carving. It was more messy than he would have liked but at least the villagers would continue to praise his young master's name.

Speaking of the young master, he appeared to be absolutely tuckered out. The Earl had never been one for social gatherings of any kind, but he especially loathed the ones where he was the host. Having to make sure he spoke to everyone was attended was exhausting for the boy, and it did not help that most of the attendants were children who pulled on the tail of his costume while begging him for candy.

Seeing the master so flustered was an amusing sight he must admit.

But now, the sun had long since set and the last of the guests trickled out of the garden, leaving behind apple cores and candy wrappers that Sebastian would now have to clean up. But first, he must attend to the young lord who desperately wanted to get out of these "stupid rags" as he called them. He had already ripped the plastic horns off of his head throwing them down in what could only be described as the beginnings of a tantrum. Oh, how cranky the young master gets when he is sleepy.

"Awww are you going to bed, young master?"

Finny whined through the fake fangs still in his mouth, committed to wearing his vampire costume for as long as possible. The gardener had been absolutely thrilled with the night's festivities, having more fun than all of the children in attendance combined. Bard had commented on how it'll be impossible to "get the kid to shut up and hit the hay" tonight, but Sebastian had the sense that the chef had been riling Finny up all night with stories and candy.

"Yes. It's late and I'm tired."

"Can't you please stay up a little longer? Bard promised he tell us one more story!" The gardener begged, something that was a bit out of character for him. Though it was normal for Finny to bother the young master, often trying to get the boy to read to him or play cards when he had free time, he usually left him alone after a single dismissal.

"Ugh. No, Finny. I want to go to bed."

"Oh, please, young master! Pretty pretty please with sugar on top! He says it's going to be a real good one and I have some chocolate left over we can share and Mey-rin and Snake are going to stay up late too and—"

"FINE! Fine. Just quit shouting." Ciel relented, shoulders hunched and his frown deepening.

Sebastian tsked. "Now, young master, you have a busy schedule tomorrow—"

"And you don't think I know that? Shut up and let's get this over with..."

"But, my lord—"

The boys already were turned away, Finny dragging Ciel gently (as gently as he could) behind him. Sebastian sighed. Ciel was already more irate than a horse with an abscessed hoof. Coaching the boy out of bed in the morning will be nearly impossible if he stays up much longer.

Sebastian followed the pair back outside where everyone, minus Tanaka who had retired for the night about half an hour ago, was seated around one of the tables. They were all still in costume, munching away at the leftover lollies and chocolate bars. Within the minute head start Ciel had, he had already seated himself between Finny and Mey-rin, halfway through angrily eating one of his famous Funtom Bars.

'So that was the real motive' Sebastian thought to himself, using all of his willpower to not roll his eyes in front of the Earl.

Bard looked up, noticing Sebastian's sudden presence.

"Ahh, so even the butler is intrigued to hear my story of fright and terror." He said with a strange, high-pitched voice, wiggling and bending his fingers for some reason. Finny and Mey-rin laughed at his antics. Ciel and Snake seemed unimpressed.

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow.

"Baldroy, have you been drinking?"

"Eh? Uh..." The chef's face quickly turned red, causing Mey-rin and Finny to laugh even harder. "It was just a little. I swear!"

"Who cares? Can we get on with the story please so I can go to bed?" Ciel grumbled, taking another violent bite out of chocolate.

"Oh, yeah. Of course! Let's see." Bard sputtered, happy to change the subject from his drinking habits back to the reason they were all gathered outside in the first place. He cleared his throat.

Deep in the remote heart of the woods, there lived a family in a cabin far removed from the rest of the village. One day, the mother and father decided to leave for a week, venturing into town, and entrusted their young son to keep watch over the house.

Although the boy had never been without his parents before, he felt unafraid. They had gifted him a large and loyal dog, a faithful companion, to keep him company and protect him. Every night, the dog would rest under the boy's bed, ever vigilant and prepared to defend his master from any potential intruders. Yet, despite his trust in his dog, the boy couldn't help but feel a tinge of fear as the sun dipped below the horizon. The woods grew dark and silent, and one could never be certain of what lurked among the trees. When anxiety kept him from falling asleep, the boy would extend his hand over the side of his bed, and his dog would softly lick his fingers, a reassuring reminder that a guardian was close by.

On the third night, the boy was stirred from his slumber by an unexpected sound.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Had he forgotten to turn off the faucet before retiring to bed? He rushed out of his bed, hurrying to the kitchen to inspect the sink. As it turned out, he had not fully closed the faucet, permitting a constant but subtle drip to trickle from the tap. He tightened it, returned to his room, slipped back into bed, and allowed his dog to comfort him with a few reassuring licks, ultimately drifting into peaceful sleep once more.

...

Drip. Drip. Drip.

'What? The dripping sound again?' thought the boy, awakening for a second time that night. But he had indeed turned off the kitchen faucet. Could another faucet have been left on? Subconsciously, the boy reached under the bed, his dog eagerly licking his fingers. It was okay. His loyal protector was still there. Empowered by his unwavering pet, the boy leaped from his bed once more and rushed to the bathroom. Perhaps the troublesome dripping sound originated from there.

And indeed, the source of the annoyance was the leaky tub faucet. He must have forgotten to close it completely after his bath that night. Just as in the kitchen, the boy tightened it as much as he could and returned to his room. He jumped back into bed, his hand finding its place under the bedframe, where a few more soothing licks from his dog helped calm his nerves and guide him back to sleep.

...

Drip. Drip. Drip.

...

How could the dripping persist? The boy was now genuinely frightened. He had checked both the kitchen and the bathroom, leaving no other faucet unexamined. Anxious and trembling, he lowered his hand from the bed's edge. At first, there was nothing, and his heart pounded as his limb dangled limply over the mattress. Then, the gentle touch of his dog's tongue graced his fingers, an immediate source of comfort. He exhaled, releasing his tension. There was no reason to be afraid; his dog remained at his side.

In the stillness, the boy focused, attempting to identify the source of the dripping sound.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was close, too close. Could there be a hole in the ceiling? Was it the sound of rain?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Wait. The dripping emanated from his room, too loud to originate elsewhere.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was coming from his cupboard!

Irritation replaced the boy's fear. This was the third time this infernal dripping noise had disturbed his sleep, and it had been inside his cupboard all along. He yanked the cupboard's handles open with a huff. What could possibly make such a noise within the confines of a dusty old cupboard? He gripped the handles tightly, swung open the doors, and froze.

There, suspended by a rope, was his loyal dog, lifeless. Its throat had been cruelly slit, and its blood dripped slowly onto the cupboard's floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He screamed, devastated by the sight of his beloved pet.

In a panicked rush, he fled from his room to the kitchen, intent on seeking help. Something was going horribly wrong! But upon reaching the front door, he froze once again, gripped by terror. In blood, a sinister message was scrawled on the door: "Humans Can Lick Too!"

—

At first, no one reacted to Bard's facile story, not to Sebastian's surprise. He did not find it particularly scary and evidently, neither did anyone else.

"'I don't get it.' Says Emily." Snake finally broke the silence. "Why was there writing on the door?"

"You don't get it?! There was obviously a person under the bed! That's who was licking the kid's hand!" Bard shouted.

"That's gross, Bard!" Mey-rin added.

"It's supposed to be gross! It's a horror story! Do you people not know that Halloween is supposed to be scary?"

"But it wasn't scary! It was sad! That poor dog..." Finny sniffled, focusing more on the dog's death than the actual point of the story. Bard should have known better than to bring up such a subject matter with the ever-so-sensitive Finny.

"Calm down, kid. It's just a story."

"Quite a stupid story, might I add." Ciel finally commented the hand that once held his chocolate bar now supported the boy's cheek as he leaned an elbow on the table. He had a single brow raised and a quizzical look on his face. "How would they have running water if they lived far in the woods?"

"Oi! Quit knitpicking! See if I'll ever tell you lot another story!" Bard gumbled, crossing his arms and sulking deeper into his chair.

"Good! We don't want to hear your stories! Look, you've made Finny cry!" Mey-rin declared, gesturing over to the gardener who now held his face in his hand and was shaking with sobs, obviously distraught over the fate of a fictional dog.

Ciel rolled his eye, a pronounced dark circle forming right under it.

"Alright. I've had enough 'fun' for one night." He stood from his chair stretching an arm above his head as he let out a deep yawn. "I'm going to bed. Come, Sebastian."

Sebastian sighed. He no doubt would be the one to have to calm Finny down once the Earl was put to bed. He should have stopped this nonsense story as soon as it started. Too late now, he supposed.

"What a stupid little story. I could've been asleep ages ago."

Ciel was cleaned, dressed, and already tucked into bed when he brought up Bard's story again. The crankiness that came with his sleepiness hasn't gone away it seems, though Sebastian had hoped that the extra chocolate bar would have lifted the young master's mood even slightly. No. It was truly a condition only sleep could cure.

"Yes, it was quite foolish. But at least now you can finally rest." Sebastian added, readjusting the duvet to make sure it was tucked all the way up to the boy's chin.

"I mean, how could he not hear his dog being killed if it was supposedly right under his bed? Did it run out to attack the intruder without barking? Dogs don't do that."

"Well, I will admit I do not know much about dogs, so I will take your word on it."

"And it just so happens that all of the faucets, in the woods mind you, are leaking the same night decided to invade his cabin and string up his dog? Where did Bard even hear such an idiotic story?"

"I'm not sure, my lord. But you can certainly ask him in the morning if the question still weighs heavy on your mind."

That comment earned a glare. "Don't patronize me. I'm just amazed that he had the gall to think that was an interesting story is all."

"I'm amazed Bard has the gall to do a lot of things, my lord. But we shouldn't dwell on such a common occurrence. You should get some sleep."

"Whatever." And with that, Ciel turned to his side, digging his body into the mattress like he always did before drifting off. Now, only the top of his little head poked out from under the covers, his grey hair already messy from rubbing his head into the pillow. Such a tiny thing.

"Good night, young master."

Sebastian blew out the candles on the candlebara leaving the room only to be lit by the faint moonlight that peaked from behind the bedroom curtains. He began making his silent exit, trying everything in his power to not rouse the little lord. He will need every second of sleep possible for his busy schedule tomorrow. Just as he gripped the brass doorknob, a tiny voice called out to him.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, my lord?"

There was a pause, then a huff.

"Can...Can you..." The boy trailed off, muttering something incoherent under his breath.

"What was that—"

"Can you check under the damn bed!" He suddenly shouted shoulders hunching all the way to his ears despite his laid-out position.

The room became quiet, Sebastian taking a second to register his master's words. Check...under his bed?

Sebastian tried to suppress the laughter bubbling up in his chest but he couldn't help but allow a few chuckles to escape.

"It appears you were frightened by Bard's 'idiotic story', correct?"

"Shut up I was not! It just got me thinking is all! I've never seen you check there, not even once!"

Despite the darkness, Sebastian could see Ciel's red little ears perfectly fine. No doubt the rest of his face would be as red as a tomato if he would just turn around. How unlike his master to make such a childlike request. Who knew the great Lord Phantomhive would be scared of such a silly little urban legend?

"I assure you, I would know if there was something under your bed. You have nothing to fear." Sebastian chuckled once again, much to the Earl's annoyance.

The boy huffed again, but the tension did not leave his body. Sebastian sighed. He knew that children often needed reassurance after being frightened, but Ciel was not easily frightened by most things. Oh well. It couldn't be helped.

Sebastian approached the bed again, making his way over to the side that Ciel was facing so the boy could see what he was doing. His big, bright eyes stared up at him, angry and waiting. With an admittedly dramatic flourish, Sebastian knelt down and raised the bed skirt. He peered beneath the bed as if investigating some dark and treacherous realm.

The room remained quiet for a moment as Sebastian stared at nothing. Well, nothing but dust. This area will need to be thoroughly cleaned tomorrow. Remaining on his knees, he straightened back up till his head was level with his master.

"It appears to be perfectly safe, young master. No monsters are lurking under your bed. You can rest easy."

Ciel's eyes twitched in annoyance as his glare deepened, but the tension leaving his body was not lost on the butler.

"I wasn't worried about 'monsters' you damn demon. I was only reminding you to do your bloody job."

With a slight smile, Sebastian lowered the bed skirt back into place and rose to his feet. Placing his right hand over his chest, he bowed.

"Yes, of course, young master. Thank you for the reminder."

"Yeah. Yeah. Now get out." The boy's voice lacked any real bite, revealing the tiredness that had been plaguing him for the majority of the night.

"As you wish, my lord. Call my name if you require anything else."

"I won't! Get out!" He groaned, burying his head completely under his covers, hiding his still-red face from his demon.

A quiet chuckle escaped from the butler once again. His master had a talent for making him do such a thing. After a quick good night, Sebastian left to continue his nightly duties. He should probably start by checking with Finny. No doubt he was still crying. He sighed, Ciel's words still swimming around in his head.

"Reminding me to do my job, eh?"

Yes, what the boy had summoned him for in the first place: to be the protector of the boy and his cabin deep inside the woods. Sebastian smiled.

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