#Bridgerton drabble

[ladykettlechips]

Buttons

I saw this on a twitter thread and, after bawling, thought it would make for a cute little Anthony / Hyacinth sibling drabble. So, here we go. ------------- Anthony had always been her beginning. He was the first person she would cry for when sick, the first person she wanted to hug in the morning and, when the day came to an end, the person she would seek to put her to bed.

When it came to buying clothes, however, it was her mother or Daphne she looked for. So, the day Anthony had taken her to town for a new dress, she had been excited and perhaps a little wary; after all, Anthony was not the sort of person to help his sisters play dress-up.

Even at the grand old age of five, Hyacinth had known this to be strange. That day was special, though, because on that day, Anthony had taken Hyacinth to a fitting at the seamstresses for a brand new dress that he had commissioned, specially for her.

It was blue, similar to the colours that their mother had used to decorate their living room. The buttons, however, were much darker, a piercing mid-blue against the softer hues.

"The colour of hyacinth's," Anthony said fondly, his smile faint. "Father's favourite flower."

Hyacinth hadn't really heard him, far too preoccupied with the buttons that had suddenly caught her attention. They were in the shape of the alphabet.

"A..." she started, tracing the shape of the first letter before her finger fell to the second one. "B..."

C, D, E, F, G...

"H," she finished, and blinked up at Anthony. "Where's the others?"

Smiling, Anthony crouched in front of his sister and looked at the eight letters on her new dress. His eyes had grown fond, his smile bright while he took Hyacinth's much smaller hands into his own.

"Because you're the littlest Bridgerton," he told her, squeezing her hands. "We start from A for 'Anthony' and end with H for 'Hyacinth', a little like the alphabet. Don't we?"

"It ends with H?" she asked, confused. Didn't the alphabet end with the letter 'Z'? Though Hyacinth had always considered her biggest brother quite smart, she couldn't help but think he was being quite silly in that moment.

She didn't question it further, however; Hyacinth was far too preoccupied with twirling in her beautiful new dress to care.

#####

When Hyacinth realised the 'A' button on her dress had fallen off her dress during playtime at school, she screamed.

She had ruined her dress. The perfect dress that Anthony had asked to be made for her especially. How could she hurt her big brother like that, like the dress meant nothing to her? Sniffling, Hyacinth looked down at the place where the 'A' button used to be, and wailed some more.

She was inconsolable. Her friends, frightened by her change in demeanour, scrambled to find a teacher to help. It didn't matter, though; nothing her teacher said or did would calm her down, not unless they found the button her brother had chosen to place on her beautiful dress.

Hyacinth had to be carried away from the playground screaming, the teacher whispering soothing things into her hair while rubbing her back. By the time her mum and Anthony had arrived at the school, Hyacinth was a hiccupping, red-faced mess, her words muddled as she tried to tell Anthony how sorry she was, that she was a bad sister for losing the precious button.

"I-I lost i-it," she wailed, stabbing a finger into her chest as Anthony scooped her up in his arms and hushed her.

"Shhhh, it's okay," he murmured, pressing kissed to her head an rocking her back and forth. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's only a button."

"I-It was y-your b-button," she sobbed, burying her face into his shoulder while he held her, doing his best to reassure Hyacinth it was okay, they would find it. But how? How would they find it? The button was lost forever.

#####

It took a few more minutes for Hyacinth to cry herself to sleep. In that time, Anthony soothed his youngest sister before gently placing her down on the sofa of the staff room. Lips twisting into a frown, he turned to his worried mother and Hyacinth's teacher, Miss Sharma.

"I'm going to look for the button," he announced all too seriously.

Violet's eyes grew wide, her mouth forming into a small 'o'. "Dear, are you really sure that is wise..."

"Hyacinth is beside herself, mother," Anthony snapped, careful not to raise his voice. "You know what she's like; she won't forgive herself unless we find it."

"Then why don't you buy a new button?" Miss Sharma piped up. Anthony groaned; he knew the woman was trying to be helpful but, in this situation, he'd rather she stayed quiet.

"An easy solution, indeed," he muttered, turning his attention to one of the school's more infuriating teaching assistants. "However, Hyacinth will know the difference; the button she lost has a small chip on the top. If I bought her a new one, she would notice right away that it isn't the right one."

Thankfully, Miss Sharma seemed to accept this answer. With a nod, she turned her attention back to Hyacinth who, even in her sleep, was hiccupping and sniffling over the loss of her 'A' button.

"Then you had better start looking," Miss Sharma finally said, her gaze returning to Anthony's. "Lunch starts in an hour; I suggest you find that button before the kids take over the playground."

She smiled then, her gaze soft as she sat beside Hyacinth, a gentle hand brushing through his little sister's hair. For a moment Anthony watched, aware of how attentive she was when it came to the students, before finally turning back to his mother.

"Call Benedict and Colin," he ordered, turning on his heel. "I'll need all the help I can get."

######

Moments before the school bell rang for lunch, Anthony found the blasted button.

"Benedict, Colin!" he cried, his smile brilliant as he held the miniscule button in his muddy, grass-stained palm. "I found it!"

His shout rang across the playground, loud and clear as Benedict - who had been scouring the netball are - and Colin, who had been searching around the jungle gym, looked up, relief flooding their faces.

"Oh, thank goodness," Colin groaned, making his way to Anthony. "Now we only have to deal with your moody a--"

"Language!" Anthony snapped, pushing himself off the ground until he was standing. Closing his fingers around the button, he turned to Benedict, who was slowly making his way towards them. "I appreciate your help, I really do, but please remember where we are. The children could be listening."

Colin rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh," he said, not at all seriously. "They're locked up in their classrooms, Ant; no need to have a cow."

It shouldn't have surprised Colin when Anthony thumped him in the chest. It still managed to knock the wind out of him, however.

"Come on," Anthony grumbled, stalking away from the field towards the cluster of buildings that made up Gregory and Hyacinth's school. "Let's get back this button back to Hyacinth."

#######

Hyacinth had been awake for fifteen minutes before Anthony arrived, her eyes rimmed red and her bottom lip trembling. Hiccupping, Hyacinth burrowed further into her mother's arms while she waited for the lunch bell to ring.

Miss Sharma had given her a chocolate biscuit, the kind that was kept in the teachers biscuit tin. Sniffling, the little girl nibbled around the edge of her biscuit when, finally, all three of her biggest brothers walked through the staff room door.

"Anthony!" Hyacinth half-shrieked, tumbling from her mum's arms. She barely acknowledged her mum's stern "Hyacinth," as the chocolate biscuit fell to the floor, all but forgotten while she clung to Anthony's leg. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

She started to sob again, her nose feeling dribbly and her eyes growing wet. But then she was being scooped up again, her small body filled with warmth as Anthony pulled her close and sighed, his large hand soothing as he stroked her hair and whispered in her ear.

"It's okay, Hyacinth," he murmured. "I found it. We found it."

And then he showed her his hand, dirty with mud and grass and there, in the middle of it, sat her letter 'A' button, chipped on top and now a little more scratched and definitely a little more mucky from the playground. But it was hers. Her 'A' button.

Eyes growing wide, Hyacinth looked at her button, then at her brothers before her lips formed into a grin, her squeal loud and delightful.

"You found it!" she shrieked, joyfully throwing her arms around Anthony's neck.

#####

Later that evening, Anthony sewed the button back onto the dress under Hyacinth's watchful eye. Once it was safely back in place, Hyacinth allowed him to tuck her into bed, her dress hanging on the back of her door proudly.

"You know, Hyacinth," Anthony whispered, his voice gentle while he ran a hand through her hair. "I can easily buy another button if one gets lost."

"But it's special," she mumbled, shuffling beneath the blanket. "You got it for me."

Chuckling, Anthony leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "It's only a button," he said. "I'd never be mad at you for losing it, sweetheart. We lose things all the time."

Of course it mattered, Hyacinth thought; it was the button Anthony had specially chosen for her dress. How could it not matter?

"Not me," she replied defiantly. "I never lose anything."

Anthony laughed. "Of course not," he grinned, kissing her other cheek. "You're Hyacinth; everything will always find its way back to you."

Nodding, Hyacinth tilted her chin proudly and smiled. "Exactly!"

#######

20 years later

"What are you doing?"

Looking up from her dress, Hyacinth beamed over at her sister-in-law with bright eyes. Kate stood in the doorway, arms folded across her chest as suspicion settled in her gaze. While Kate had no real need to be suspicious - at least on this occasion - she couldn't exactly blame her, either; Hyacinth wasn't exactly known for her desire to play by the rules.

"Nothing," she said, walking to the door. "I was just adding the final touch to my dress."

Arching a brow, Kate made her way into the room and studied the floor-length gown that now hung from Hyacinth's wardrobe door. It was beautiful, an elegant piece that would undoubtedly be ruined by mud stains and wine spillages by the end of day if Hyacinth wasn't careful.

And, knowing her, she wouldn't be; It didn't matter that tomorrow was her wedding day.

After a moment, Kate finally stepped back with a scrunch of her nose and her brows knitted together.

"You really didn't do anything to it?" Kate asked, still a little suspicious. Grinning, Hyacinth shook her head.

"Nope," she said, popping the 'p'. "Nothing at all."

Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy Kate who, after a final glance, gave Hyacinth a small smile and left the room, but not before warning her Anthony would be stopping by her room for a 'final chance to run away' chat. Chuckling to herself, Hyacinth closed the door behind her and turned back to the wedding dress, her eyes growing wet with tears.

She walked over to the dress and, turning it around, smiled down at her handiwork. There, lining the back of her dress, were eight alphabet buttons, now a faded hyacinth blue and a little chipped from years of wear and tear.

They began with 'A' for Anthony until they came to an end at 'H' for Hyacinth.

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Something scary

A/N: A little something for a little someone. @cas-kingdom, please know that we all love and support you, always, always, always. *hearts* Since I believe my Aramis-brain is currently confused due to the Russian adaptation which has altered my brain chemistry, I shall cling to Benedict Bridgerton (26) and little sister!reader (16) when it comes to writing. :)

Based on the prompt "Awww, look at you!" "Shut the hell up!" from this perfect prompt list.

You'd always known the day would come.

You weren't the first, you weren't the last, neither girlwise, nor Bridgerton-wise.

Some had stumbled, many had succeeded, some had cried, many had fainted. Daphne had been perfect, Eloise had ... fled, Francesca had done nicely, Penelope had been lovely and her sisters, well, ...

Nothing, in any way, should have surprised you or even managed to scare you, that day, which you had had much time getting to know from the inside out, from every angle, from the beginning to the end.

Yet.

The moment that stupid feather got adjusted to your head, something inside of you had opened its mouth in a great big silent scream and it did not feel familiar. What the actual f-

"(Y/N)?" Your mother's voice sounded less reassuring through the door than you had expected. Even her, after having gone through this procedure with three daughter already, seemed to still be as excited as if you were the first. This was not good. No, no, not good at all.

"(Y/N)??" Even more anxious now, great! There was a giggle behind the door and it clearly had been giggled by Hyacinth. You rolled your eyes. Just last season, you had been standing there as well, growing red in the face from holding back laughter at Eloise's feathered look...

"Yes, mother, I do actually still stand behind this door!" You groaned through tensely clenched teeth, feeling sorry for your harshness almost instantly. "Forgive me, I am..."

A suppressed wheeze made it through the wood, followed by a rather sharp shushing noise. Daphne, obviously. "Stop it, you two!"

Obviously, Hyacinth was never alone in her amusement since Gregory was always keen on sharing in it.

"Oh and you, you should really know better!" You heard your mother chastise almost fondly, almost as if smiling herself - which she definitely wouldn't, not with you being at the state you were currently in. But obviously, she only could have spoken those words to Benedict.

"Excuse me," you bellowed a little louder than before, making Hannah who had helped you with the dress and the feather twitch beside the mirror. Apologetically you grimaced at her, before glaring back at the white wood in front of you. "Are you all having a laugh fest at my expanse out there?"

"Nooo," Eloise said too unseriously to be taken, well, serious.

"We haven't even seen you yet," came the rather ironic response from your second eldest brother - of course - which was satisfyingly followed by the sound of slapping. A wince and another Hyacinth-chuckle and another "shhh" later, he altered his rhetoric. "I mean no!"

"Oh, my darling child, please do come out now, we are so very excited to see you!" Your mother's voice suddenly bubbled over, trying to erase all the other remarks and laughs and comments that had predated her words. You sighed, a flutter of affection making the screaming something inside your belly close its mouth a little.

Insecurely you looked at Hannah who was not known to be the cutest house maid for nothing since she decided to give you a very dynamic thumbs up. This actually allowed you to manage a smile. You took a deep a breath, deep enough to feel your corset strain against your chest and put your hand on the handle of the door.

"I am coming out now," you warned in a voice that didn't sound like your own. For a second you considered telling Benedict to close his eyes, but then again, his amusement would still be all over his face and it would only worsen after he had seen you... Better get through with all in one go.

Silence took hold of your family, while you opened the door in the slowest way possible. The first thing they got to see was half a feather, one eye and one very high-risen shoulder in white puffy satin.

"Hello," you croaked out, too embarrassed to show much more than that for now, where you were already able to see all their curious and partially very excited faces, but they only got to see a quarter of you.

Eloise narrowed her eyes which was a sign that she wasn't sure whether you were joking and she could laugh or whether you were very not joking and a single laugh could lead to your feather getting stuck between a rapidly closing door and its frame.

"Oh, sweetheart, do come out!" Your mother mused, her hands clutched to her chest, her eyes glimmering with anticipation and the tiniest bit of impatience.

Gregory and Hyacinth were cocking their heads in an attempt to see your entire form behind the door and Benedict was wearing a steadfast mask of seriousness, much imposed upon him by Daphne who had placed an apparently tender hand on his shoulder that was in truth probably more like a claw of death.

She was the only one who gave you an encouraging nod, the smallest hint of a smile about her mouth - one that did not conceal mockery - and that was enough to make you grow bolder.

"Okay," you said in a still rather unconvinced manner, gave the door a little push and stepped to the side.

Now, you thought, now they can see me, all dressed up like this, with a ridiculous feather on my head that probably makes me look like a forgotten candelabra. You stared at the floor with eyes that felt like they were sweating, blinking too much and trying not to focus on any of their faces, trying to grow confident somehow, someway, sometime... soon...

Then the silence in front of you grew too loud. You grabbed the door handle and tried to pull yourself back into your room, hearing everyone gasp as a jolt went through the family crowd. Unfortunately you stepped on your dress which gave your brother just the second longer to throw himself forward and grab you by the elbow.

"Now where do you think you're going?" He chuckled, his booming voice blowing against the feather on your head as he firmly closed his arms around you.

With a defiant squeal, you tried to pull back, but he was too tall and too strong and already your feet left the ground and you were truthfully being carried about like an old candelabra.

"Oh, Benedict, careful!" Your mother pleaded firmly, her hand on his shoulder all while he held you up like the suspect on a crime scene.

Daphne gave an exasperated groan, the crossed arms in front of her chest promising many disdainful faces directed at your brother throughout the rest of the day, while Eloise seemed to be unable to keep from smiling due to his antics.

"Let me down!!" You demanded, your fists clenched at your sides as your face was being squashed at his shoulder.

"Oh, certainly, sister dearest," he vividly exclaimed, making a turn about himself and almost getting tangled up in the hem of your dress as well. You could feel a bit of the shame crumble away from your cheeks like tanned skin - and it was certainly not due to him making you smile. "I will just quickly put you over there so you will not be tempted by your door again!"

"Brotherrr!!"

"Oh, she stressed the 'r', this is not good, everybody take a step back!"

"Benedict!" Your mother and Daphne sighed simultaneously, while Gregory and Hyacinth started laughing. Eloise was still smiling and something about the way she grinned made you wonder if you were grinning, too.

You tried to get a look at your brother's face, but he was already changing his grip on you, suddenly making you swing almost sideway in front of his chest. An unwilling sound left your throat, but it mixed with a bewildered laugh that was incredibly freeing to your squashed insides. The something scary that had been screaming silently inside of you suddenly went to sleep.

"Good Lord, that feather must weigh a ton, I can barely hold you!"

You couldn't help but laugh, when he moved you up in his grip, going about it as awkwardly as humanly possible, allowing for one of your arms to finally free itself, your hand immediately slapping against his head in defiance.

"Why are you like this?" You chuckled, warmth filling your belly, when he started laughing himself. His blue eyes appeared to throw sparks and his smile was brighter than a candle on a candelabra could have ever been. He grinned down at you hanging in front of his waist by now as if he had just torn you from a lake, on the brink of drowning.

"Because it makes you laugh," he answered quietly, before turning about himself one last time and setting you back down.

Your mother was clearly relieved when you finally had the polished floor beneath you again and she quickly rushed over to take a closer look at the ensemble of your outfit, making sure that neither your dress nor your feather had suffered under Benedict's attack.

Daphne almost managed to give your brother a well placed fist on the shoulder, but he moved away just in time, squeezing instead Daphne's sides while dodging behind her, the brightest smirk on his face. Your sister huffed and moved away awkwardly. But now she was smiling, too.

"You are so entirely insufferable."

"Well, I have to keep up a reputation now that Anthony and you are gone."

"You mustn't even try and make this appear to be a new development. I do admit to sometimes even missing your ... youness."

Benedict moved a hand to his chest and cooed, dodging yet another of Daphne's blows, when Eloise all but cleared her throat. This noise was a very obvious translation of the sentence "WOULD YOU STOP AND LOOK AT (Y/N) PLEASE". Which they very much did then.

With your hands clasped together, you stood there, your chin slightly lowered, your cheeks blushing ever so slightly and the feather on your head gently swaying when you moved your head up a little to see their reactions now. Your dress was glittering, shining and flowing about you. It was not pompous at all, but moved about your frame like water. Your hair was braided up, the feather like the finishing point to the crown it seemed to shape. The gaunts felt unusual around your fingers, but they reminded you of Daphne and therefore gave you quite the boost of confidence.

You were as it were no different from any other girl that would show up at court today. Still, your family looked at you now as if there was no one more adorable than you.

"Awwww, look at you!" Benedict cooed, his grin growing in size if that was even possible.

"Shut the hell up!" You fired back, making your mother gasp, but there was no actual vigor behind it. The way he and the others looked at you actually made you blush and it was not due to blame or shame or any other uncomfortable feeling. No, you were proud now.

"This actually reminds me of the time you danced your first ballet for Anthony and me..." Benedict suddenly opened the memory box and your little blush immediately grew dark red.

"Ben!!"

"Oh, I remember it as if it was yesterday, you must have been about six? And I the age you are now and it was just the utterly most ado-"

Daphne jabbed a hand into your brother's side and made him jolt away with a shriek, making you, Hyacinth, Gregory and Eloise all chuckle at his expanse for once. "Sometimes, brother, you get defeated by your own weapons!"

He was just about to take a threatening step back towards Daphne, when Eloise wrapped a firm arm around his waist and held him back. "Now, now, brother, there is still time for that later, right?"

You were so grateful to your sisters in that moment that you could have pulled them in for a double hug - which they would have hated, so you didn't. But you tried to make them see how grateful you were just by smiling at them.

Your mother was just about to ask a valet if they had heard the carriage of your eldest brother arrive, when suddenly Anthony and Kate appeared at the foot of the staircase.

"ANTHONY!" You shouted with delight and opened your arms to allow him to see you in all your shininess from all the way down where he stood.

"Goodnes gracious!" He bellowed, forcing a smile on everyone's face. "Look at you!! ... This actually brings up memories of a very lovely ballet I once got to see when you were about-"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Benedict shouted dismissively, pulling Eloise tighter in his one armed embrace. "They have no use for nostalgia today!"

With the help of your mother you managed to get down the stairs almost as gracefully as you had hoped to and when your oldest brother picked you up just like Benedict had done before, growling into your neck and making you laugh, you realized that no trace of the scary thing in your belly was left and that you were, feathered and blushed and shiny as you were, as calm as you could have been. Your family would be there with you. You were safe.

[caramelpenguin]

Kanthony and I am a gentleman

"I am a gentleman," Anthony says into the room, in response to Benedict's question. Next to him, shoulders brushing, Kate places her tea down onto the table to cover her mouth with her hand.

"Kate, are you alright?" Colin asks.

She nods quickly, waving her hand in the air. "Pefectly fine, thanks." She inhales slowly, calmly, but makes eye contact with Anthony, and the giggles erupt again.

[silverhallow]

Bridgerton drabble: A Princess Diaries AU

Part #1 Sophie’s Choice.

A belated birthday gift for @bridgertonbabe and @sophiebernadotte

Wasn’t life as a princess supposed to be fair? Or maybe not fair, that might be the wrong word. She was privileged, she knew that… even if she had only known she was a princess for a few short years.

Royalty led lives that were in the public eye, normally having been raised in that environment, but here she was… sitting in a country that she’d only known about for 4 years, listening to her grandmother scolding her for jeopardising the wedding that was to take place in a few days time, which would then lead onto her coronation a week after that and it was all Sophie could do not to throw up or cry because she knew her grandmother was right… she had ruined everything.

She’d always dreamt she’d marry for love, that she’d find a man that made her stomach fizz, give her butterflies, that would make her heart skip a beat and her palms sweaty and her feet pop when she kissed him. She wanted the kind of love her mother had told her about, that her mother had experienced but due to the unfairness of her situation, it was an arranged marriage or lose her throne. Those were her options.

A throne that until she turned 16, she had known nothing about.

She had been blissfully unaware that her father had been a Prince… Prince of a tiny country in the middle of the Italian and French sea. Her mother had kept it from her, taking that secret with her to her grave.

Her mother had died 10 weeks before Sophie’s 16th birthday, which was the day her entire life changed.

She’d been stopping with her best friend Kate Sharma and Sophie had been in English when the poshest woman Sophie had ever seen in her life came in and dropped the bombshell of all bombshells on her over a cup of tea…

Which she promptly spat all over her “grandmother's” face.

She was a princess.

A bastard princess but a princess nonetheless, and the only living descendant of the Gunningworth line.

Her father, Richard, had passed away 9 months earlier and to Sarah’s knowledge he had been childless.

It was only after discovering something in her late-husband’s writing desk, did she learn that there was in fact an heir.

Her.

Sophie was saving the country from being taken over by the Cavender’s. Their son Phillip had a terrible temper and an even worse reputation at just 17 years old and had once been rulers of their own lands until the people revolted and won back their lands and banished the Cavender’s but their royal blood was connected to Penwood and now it was Sophie, or the Cavender’s and Sarah was determined that her throne would not pass into their hands.

She had learned that Reginald had sent Esme away when she was pregnant with Sophie, he didn’t want a child out of wedlock and he certainly didn’t want the Crown Prince, only Heir to the Throne marrying a commoner and so she’d been paid off and shipped off back to England. He provided money monthly to keep Esme quiet and Esme had been promised that she and her unborn child would be left alone and the secret of Sophie’s birth went to the grave with her.

Reginald had known about Sophie and he had been working out how to tell his wife that they did in fact have an heir and where they could find her, and what had happened, his own guilt weighing in after he’d pressured Richard into a marriage with a woman that bore no children between them other than two step-children who could not inherit the throne but when Reginald died 3 months after Richard it had thrown a spanner in the works as he’d not gotten around to telling Sarah the truth.

Sophie was dumbfounded.

Sarah was Regent, as they had their heir but she was underage and she was able to prevent Cavender getting his hands on the crown.

Since Sophie was underage she would learn the role, but upon turning 20 Sophie was told she’d have to take over the throne, she would get 6 months post her 20th birthday to marry and be crowned Queen otherwise, Cavender would take over.

So Life changed.

Gone were the days she was invisible, where she could blend into the background with Kate, sitting laughing about Shakespere and just being a teenage girl to…

Being a Princess.

She stayed in school but Kate was almost glued to her side. She worked at her studies, she travelled back and forth between the countries as she learned.

Once she was 18, Sophie moved to Penwood and Kate and her family came with her, they’d been her family when she had no one else and Kate wanted to work with Sophie, for Sophie as part of her staff once she’d graduated from University.

And Sophie knew from the moment she moved to her new home that she wanted to be Queen, that she would do anything to be Queen. Her beautiful country that she was learning to love, the rich culture and history that was hers to protect and nourish and the more time she spent there, the more she got to know the people, the more she knew she wanted to be Queen.

So between her studies, her Queen lessons with her Grandmother and getting to know the country’s leaders, she was starting to look for a husband.

Not just any husband, she needed someone titled, not in line for their own throne, someone who understood her importance as Queen. Someone harmless, inoffensive, who would stand there by her side and be a pillar of strength and a symbol but would let Sophie lead.

She would be Queen, and she knew finding a husband would be hard but she had time… or so she’d assumed. She was only 18 after all, she had two years. How hard could it be?

From the moment the plane touched down, Sophie knew that whatever she’d thought her life was going to be like, nothing compared to the circus it was becoming

.

18 turned into 19 and Sophie had still not found someone that she wanted to marry, any male around her age that would be eligible was not interested in marriage, any man she met at a bar knew who she was and wanted a piece of her as a trophy.

She was to be Queen… Everyone knew that. “Your highness, you must know there isn’t a man on this planet who isn’t interested in marrying you, but it is finding the right person for you who will make your everyday life easier, who makes the mundane fun and who makes you smile” her Prime Minister Edmund Bridgerton had told her as the days got closer to her 20th birthday and she had still not found someone to be her husband, time was running out and she was getting desperate.

“That is all well and good my Lord but I have 6 months, we have 6 months to make this work or everything has been in vain” Sophie sighed during their weekly meeting. Sophie loved meeting her prime minister, They had joked on a number of occasions it was a shame that his title came with his position and didn’t transfer to his children since he had eight of them and the two eldest boys were a little older than Sophie and Kate, she’d yet to meet Benedict who was off travelling and studying and she got on well with Anthony, who was training to take over from Charlie as the Royal Household Chief of Security once Sophie ascended to the throne.

The little wrinkle there was Anthony was dating Kate. Kate was working up to the role of Chief of Staff within the palace and eventually they would run the palace between them and despite their prickly start, Sophie thought they were perfect for one another but it served as an almost daily reminder that she didn’t have that and she needed that. 6 months to fall in love, marry to become Queen…

“There are other ways around it, your grandmother is reluctant to bring it up because she knew how much you wanted to find someone the traditional way but there is always an arranged marriage, I am sure between Ms Gibbons, your grandmother and my wife Violet, they’ll be able to come up with a list of possibilities for you. Aim for friendship first, it worked for your grandmother… love everything else, it is lovely but friendship and companionship will hold you in just as good a stead” Edmund explained

“That’s easy for you to say, you married the love of your live and have 8 children” Sophie replied flippantly but sighed “but I shall think about it, it is likely to be the only option”

“Speaking of my children…” Edmund grinned and Sophie rolled her eyes

“Smooth… what are they after this time?”

“It’s nothing actually just Benedict is back from his travels eventually this weekend after being away for the last two years studying and he is on the last portfolio for his masters and I was wondering if perhaps as a small favour we could add him to your official photographers list up to the coronation and allow him to capture some more… candid photos of the next few months”

“Why not, some candid ones will be lovely I guess after all the formal things…” Sophie said “and i’ll make sure there is a ticket to my 20th birthday party for him as well, if he is back in time that is, it would be nice to meet another of your ridiculous brood. but I will give some thought to your suggestion, having some of those possible bachelors come to the party and meet them…” Sophie sighed.

But after the events of her 20th birthday, Sophie had known it was time.

The only person she’d met the night of her birthday party, the only person she’d felt a connection with had been someone she knew she had no chance with.

She’d been walking through the party, trying to get away from Prince Hans and his incessant staring, as well as Lady Rosamund who was making snide quiet remarks about how it should be her that was going to be queen when Sophie had run straight into a stranger stomping straight on his foot, the most handsome stranger she’d ever met.

It was only after she’d danced and flirted with him and spoke to Kate, did she realise that it was Benedict Bridgerton and it had broken her heart almost instantly.

She’d assumed he was one of the many suitors her grandmother had invited for to meet so to realise who he was, that he was untitled, he was, despite being the son of a Lord, not someone Sophie could ever hope to get to know on a more intimate and romantic level… she knew based on the rules that had been set out for her future husband, it was a no go.

So the morning after her party, she’d called Kate, her grandmother, Ann Gibbons the current chief of staff and Mary and said “it’s time”

A week later she was sitting in the palace movie room with the screens up, profiles up as she looked through all the eligible bachelors that would be interested in an arranged marriage.

Two hours it had taken, going through picture after picture before Sophie had spotted one.

Yes he was a second son but he fit the bill where no one else did. He was the second son of a Duke. His older brother was already married and had twins, their line was secure, he was a Sir. He had a title, a ceremonial one but all the same…

Sir Phillip Crane was everything that Sophie had been looking for.

He was the same age as she was, he was academic, he was cute. He was someone that Sophie could see herself being at least friends with…

It was a start.

And it had turned out Phillip was everything that Sophie could have hoped for. He was kind, he was funny and they seemed to have a lot in common and Sophie knew she’d made the best possible choice…

Or she would have thought so if it wasn’t for Benedict being everywhere she went.

She’d forgotten about her agreement with the Prime Minister and being Anthony’s brother, and he seemed to get on really well with Kate. he was always there.

The torment Sophie felt was horrible, she felt attracted to Benedict in a way she knew she’d never be attracted to Phillip but she knew that she could never be with Benedict and have the life she so desperately wanted.

She wanted to be Queen, she wanted to rule this country that she’d learned so much about, that she was so passionate about and she was close to mucking it all up.

Two weeks before the wedding it all came to a head when during the summer party, Sophie had slipped away from Phillip, leaving him with Kate and Benedict’s sister Eloise as she wanted to get out of her head. Cavender’s son had been lurking and making lurid remarks about her and she just wanted 5 minutes.

She’d given her ladies maids the slip, and was just sitting on the edge of the fountain, trying not to hyperventilate.

She’d not seen Benedict at all during the party, he was employed during these events to take photos as part of her agreement with his father and she knew that it was the last thing she needed. Whilst she desperately craved him to soothe her frayed nerves, she knew being around him was making it worse.

They’d had many a spirited debate about Bryon, about poetry and art and she always seemed to know when he appeared, her skin tingled and pricked but he knew as well as she did, that whatever there was between them, wasn’t possible.

With the way the rules of the country where, fate was destined to keep them apart.

But that day… he’d caught her unaware, they’d given into a moment of weakness and kissed.

It was only when Sophie’s beloved dog Bernie, had come running through the fence with voices behind him, that they’d separated and in their shock at nearly being caught, they had tumbled into the fountain.

It had been the start of her downfall.

She’d confined Kate how she felt about Benedict, how she wished things could be different and she knew that Benedict had felt the same and how she couldn’t have him around her anymore because it was breaking her heart.

Benedict had agreed to step away, to leave his position because he knew the country needed Sophie more than he did and he would never have forgiven himself to do anything that would have ruined her dream to be Queen,

But he’d asked if he could see her one last time before he left, before he walked away and Sophie would marry Phillip and Sophie had agreed as long as no one found out.

But someone had found out. Someone had overheard and warned the press that if someone followed the Prime Minister’s son… they would find a scandal.

And whilst it wasn’t as big of a scandal as it could have been, Sophie and Benedict had just talked, shared a kiss or two, they’d fallen asleep under a tree in the grounds of the castle and it was upon waking that they’d been spotted…

And Sophie was sure her life was going to fall apart.

Sarah yelled at her for over an hour about it, about how she should not be sneaking out and despite the fact she knew how her granddaughter felt about him, she could see how devastated Sophie was about the choice.

Heart or country.

It was a choice she’d known all too well but Sophie knew what she wanted.

What was required of her… it was just a matter of if Phillip would still want to marry her.

“Phillip wait, please! Let me explain! Nothing happened” Sophie said as she ran after Phillip a few hours later after he’d arrived at the palace so they could talk.

“Yes but you went Sophie, you still went didn’t you?” he replied, his voice was strangely calm and not angry and Sophie wasn’t sure if she’d rather he’d been angry or not “I don’t think you understand… despite my geekiness as the press back home call it, I am an extremely eligible bachelor” he said, though Sophie could tell he cringed a bit at the words, knowing he didn’t like to big himself in that way. “I really am. I’ve got plenty of friends, lots of lovely… erm women friends” he said gesturing as they looked at one another

“But i… I still think marriage is a good idea.” he said and Sophie looked up at him in disbelief as Phillip’s face softened as they looked at one another,

“Sophie…” he said, before taking a step forward, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her.

It was the first time they’d properly kissed, it had been a brief kiss on the lips when they’d gotten engaged, the same on the balcony when they announced their engagement several weeks ago and as kisses went…

It was the most awkward kiss either of them had ever experienced.

It was like kissing a sibling. It was so awkward Sophie was sure the entire world stopped moving and she could hear the cows in the field several miles away Mooing…

Eventually Phillip pulled away and Sophie with her eyes still shut brought her hand to her lip to almost wipe the kiss off as she had Phillip looked at one another again

“So?” he asked “anything?” already anticipating the answer.

“It was lovely… just… there was no…” Sophie said

“Spark?” they said at the same time and Sophie groaned as she knew what the right thing to do was.

“What are we going to do?” Sophie said her voice breaking a little as she felt herself close to tears. The wedding was a few days away, she’d come this far and now she’d thrown it all away.

Phillip sighed and took a step forward putting an arm around Sophie’s waist, rolling his eyes as the security guards shovelled up the stairs behind them

“No privacy…” Sophie grumbled.

“Sophie… you chose me… and I accepted” he said pressing an almost brotherly kiss on her head “I accepted and so we’re going to stand up in the church next week and say “I do” and become man and wife… and then you’re going to be crowned Queen of Penwood and make the most amazing Queen in the history of this great country” he said tenderly, honestly and a smile on his face that made Sophie feel like perhaps everything could be okay.

“Thank you” she whispered as she kissed his cheek as she smiled back at him.

This was it. Her choice had been made. Country and Duty over her heart. Phillip was a good man and she could do a lot worse…

[bridgertonbabe]

Bridgerton Drabble - Harry Potter AU Edition #6

As quietly as possible Sophie descended down Aubrey Hollow's winding staircase until she reached the ground floor and padded her way into the moonlit kitchen. She stopped by the window above the sink that looked out onto the garden that Colin and his siblings had shown her around earlier, observing a movement in the hedge from which a gnome emerged as he snuck his way back towards the turnip patch Eloise had proudly informed her she had planted with her father. Turning away from watching the garden pest, Sophie went to fetch a glass only to come to a hesitant halt.

Despite Colin's parents telling her to make herself at home and insisting she helped herself to any food or drink without needing to ask their permission first, she was still plagued with the apprehension that had been caused from years of having to share a house with Araminta. Sophie was so accustomed to being scolded for merely existing that it felt almost unnatural to roam about the Bridgertons' humble abode and exercise basic actions like getting something to eat or drink, or to even use the bathroom without anxiously having to ask permission to do so. She knew she had to shake off the hang-ups caused by her wicked stepmother and accept the warmth and kindness that the Bridgertons had welcomed her with, knowing that Araminta's cruelty wasn't the way in which most people treated others.

Once she consciously shook off her anxiety-induced apprehension, Sophie opened a cupboard to grab a glass and then proceeded to pour herself some water from the tap (and purposefully ignored the irrational scenario that played out in her mind of Edmund Bridgerton storming into the kitchen with a face of thunder and hexing her for daring to quench her thirst without asking). While she sipped her drink, she looked around the homely kitchen to study it's smaller details that she had yet to notice, not having had time during her first day at Aubrey Hollow as Colin and his siblings eagerly coveted her attention.

There were well-used cauldrons laying on the draining board in lieu of cooking pots, a small blackboard hanging on the wall with a scheduled menu of the week's dinners (as well as some doodles which varied in skill), and carvings around the edge of the table courtesy of Colin and his siblings marking their territory from the seats they always sat in. Littered on one of the kitchen walls was a sea of framed photos of the Bridgertons and their extended family throughout the years, all perpetually moving as people waved and beamed for the camera. The lone hanging that wasn't of a framed photo on this particular wall was what Sophie had initially thought to be a clock at a quick passing glance, but on closer inspection there were eight additional hands in contrast to a timepiece's typical two, and each of the hands was inscribed with a family member's name. Instead of numbers, there were various phrases such as "home", "school", "work", "hospital", "travelling", "lost", and "mortal peril"; and Sophie realised the clock functioned as a means to indicate the status of each of the family members, seeing as all ten hands were currently pointing at "home".

Sophie smiled as she admired the Bridgertons' kitchen and how starkly it contrasted to the one back home because even though the room was empty of people except her, it was so clearly filled with love and warmth by just how lived-in it evidently was. She just felt so inherently comfortable and at peace even though it wasn't her own homestead, and it was all down to the abundance of affection that radiated through the walls of Aubrey Hollow from all those who inhabited it.

She then noticed how one of the hands on the clock suddenly moved; Eloise's hand had just switched to "no good" at the same time as Sophie heard a door creak open from upstairs. She could have sworn she heard a distant ribbit before another door was creaked open. A few seconds later she heard a squeal, followed by a naughty giggle and the running of footsteps before a door slammed shut, and Eloise's hand clocked back to "home".

"Those hands strike "no good" more often than you'd think living here."

Sophie let out a gasp and jumped, managing to keep a firm hold of her glass of water as she whirled around to see Benedict Bridgerton.

"Sorry, sorry!" he apologised in a hushed tone and immediately held up a reassuring hand to her. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh no, I'm sorry." she responded instantly. "I didn't hear you come in, is all." she cringed, feeling momentarily stupid for somehow missing any sound of him moving about the house.

"Don't be sorry." he scoffed and waved off her returned apology. "I just know how to move about without making any noise - unlike some of my siblings." he remarked and pointed upwards just as a door creaked open.

"Eloise!" they heard who Sophie was sure was Daphne hiss indignantly (as the hand bearing her name ticked to "no good") and a door slam after her before muffled squeals started up a couple of floors above them.

"I hope their antics didn't wake you up."

"Oh not at all." Sophie replied.

"Ah, so Colin's snoring woke you up?" Benedict smirked.

"He doesn't snore!" she gently giggled.

"Soph, I know you're an incredibly nice person but there's no need to lie for Colin's benefit. He's fallen asleep on the sofa enough times to prove the fact that he does snore."

"Be that as it may, it didn't disturb me." she said truthfully; her best friend's snoring was gentle enough that it hadn't kept her awake - in fact she found it comforting, knowing she wasn't alone and she had actually fallen asleep quicker as a result. "I was just thirsty."

Benedict nodded in acknowledgement with an easy smile aimed at her. Sophie was just grateful that the dim source of light was able to hide the blush that spread across her face as a result of his smile (not to mention just being in his presence in general).

"Were you grabbing a bite a to eat too?"

"Oh, no!" Sophie shook her head quickly. "No, no; just water."

"Soph; you are allowed to help yourself if you did want something to eat." he said, his gaze softening at her. "You know that right?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." she nodded agreeably. "I'm just not hungry, is all."

"Ah. So you wouldn't be interested in joining me for a midnight chocolate feast?" he asked, cocking an amused brow.

The mention of chocolate instantaneously piqued Sophie's attention, which got a laugh out of Benedict from the way in which her eyes lit up and rounded with curiosity.

"Well... if you're offering." a small smile played on Sophie's lips.

Glancing back and forth from the two empty doorways that led out of the kitchen to assure the coast was clear, Benedict then took a couple of steps forwards until he was practically toe to toe with Sophie (which caused her to worry that he was now close enough to hear the sound of her heart racing due to their narrowed proximity).

"Can you keep a secret?" he whispered.

Sophie successfully managed to restrain the gulp she wanted to swallow as she answered with a nod - after all, she had successfully been keeping her crush on the boy stood in front of her a secret since she had met him.

With an approving grin he then stepped over to the brick wall covered with photos and took off a frame containing a picture of a younger Violet Bridgerton with a baby boy in her arms.

"Oh my goodness, is that you?" Sophie gasped as she noticed the finger paint dirtying the little boy's hands that he used to grab a hold of his mother's face and plant a kiss on her cheek, much to Violet's heart-filled amusement as she laughed.

"Yeah." he confirmed, exhaling affectionately as he glanced at his infant self nuzzling into his mother's face.

"Aw, you're adorable!" she cooed, taking the frame from him and fondly watching the moving photo as baby Benedict pulled himself away from embracing his mum long enough to give his trademark lopsided grin to camera.

"Eh, my parents say Colin was the cutest baby." Benedict shrugged off and nodded to a nearby solo photo of Colin at six months. "The chubbier the baby, and all that."

Sophie glanced at the baby photo of her best friend, who indeed was undeniably adorable with his chubby little limbs and giggle-filled smile; but then all of the baby photos hanging on the wall proved that that the Bridgertons simply produced exceedingly adorable babies. But as ridiculously cute as chubby baby Colin was, Sophie couldn't help but be drawn back to the photo in her hands of baby Benedict, the sight of which melted her heart as she watched him kiss Violet's cheek again. The image only fuelled her the various fantasy scenarios she harboured, the ones she came up with in bed at night that she had been nurturing for the last year, fantasies that primarily involved Benedict reciprocating his love for her, marrying him and starting a family with; and the visual image of having a baby identical to Benedict to be bestowed adorable kisses from with paint-stained hands only made her heart flutter and her feelings for Benedict deepen.

"Okay?" Benedict uttered to regain Sophie's attention.

She nodded, holding onto the frame but watching intently as Benedict touched a brick that had been hidden by the photo that had previously been hanging there. He then touched a few more bricks in a specific order and touched the first brick again, and then much to Sophie's amazement the series of bricks he had touched momentarily glowed before moving away to reveal a hole in the wall. She watched as Benedict reached in and then casually extracted a box of Honeydukes chocolates.

He turned back to her and smirked at the awed expression on Sophie's face. "Mum magicked it up for me." he explained. "Since Colin has a tendency to swipe snacks regardless if they don't belong to him, mum decided to create a hidey hole for me to stash my sweets in."

Sophie peered into the newly formed hole in the wall and cast her eyes across the stash of snacks Benedict had stored away from Colin's greedy prying eyes, captivated by the use of magic Violet had used to create the pocket in the first place.

"So only you and your mum know about this?"

"And now you."

Sophie looked to him, her heart skipping a beat as he caught her gaze and winked at her.

"Honeycomb truffle?" he said, offering out the chocolate tray he had just opened.

Together they indulged in the array of chocolates Honeydukes had to offer, with Sophie trying her best to restrain herself from making any sound effects as she savoured the delectable flavours she tasted, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of her crush.

"I hope my siblings didn't overwhelm you too much today." Benedict remarked as he sized up which chocolate to have next.

"Oh, not at all."

After resting for a few hours following her dramatic escape from her bedroom-turned-prison, and once Violet had ensured she had eaten a full breakfast, the younger five Bridgerton siblings were all keen to garner Sophie's attention. For the entire day, despite Colin's best efforts to hog his friend all to himself, his sisters and little brother refused to leave Sophie alone and trailed after the pair from room to room, indoors and outdoors.

"It's fair enough if they did; they overwhelm me at the best of times." he snorted.

"I mean, it was a lot all at once, but it made for a nice change." Sophie replied in earnest.

She was so accustomed to a home where she felt an innate sense of loneliness that it was nothing short of welcome relief to be surrounded by so many people chatting away incessantly and tugging on her arm to get her attention. Especially after ten days locked away in a bedroom with only Posy briefly talking to her from the other side of the door when Araminta wasn't around to yell at her.

"I should warn you, after today you're now Hyacinth's new favourite person."

Sophie grinned as she reflected on how the youngest member of the family had instantly taken to her when Edmund brought her down to the breakfast table. The two year old had spent the best part of the meal staring wide-eyed at the new person, utterly intrigued by everything Sophie said and did. Then as soon as Colin announced he was going to give Sophie a tour of Aubrey Hollow, a tiny hand had slipped into Sophie's and she had looked down to find Hyacinth smiling coyly up at her. The toddler had been attached to her since then, never letting go of her hand for the entirety of the tour, and when Sophie sat down Hyacinth proceeded to sit on her lap and babble away nonsensically to her. The little girl had even thrown a tantrum when at dinner Colin insisted his friend sat in between him and Benedict, only calming down when Edmund sat her down in the chair directly across from Sophie. And finally when it was time for bed, Hyacinth had marched over to Sophie and handed her the bedtime story she wanted to be read to her, and Sophie happily obliged, sitting by the little girl's bedside and reading to her until she had fallen asleep.

"I'm sure she'll have lost interest by tomorrow." Sophie shrugged off modestly.

"Oh, no." Benedict shook his head and chuckled. "That's not how Hy operates. When you're her favourite person, she's obsessed. She pretty much imprints on you and refuse to leave your side."

"Who was her favourite person before?"

"She goes through cycles. She's definitely a daddy's girl but whenever Anthony's home for the holidays she's permanently attached to him. She goes through phases with Daphne, she's on and off with Greg, and whenever El's friend Penelope comes to visit she refuses to leave her alone no matter how much El shouts at her." Benedict elaborated. "But I can tell you now, until we go back to Hogwarts, she's going to be your little shadow. Don't worry though, we'll all try to rein her in,"

"Oh, that's not necessary." Sophie assured him. "I'd be more than happy to spend time with her. I always wanted a baby sister." she said sincerely, having wished for so long for a younger playmate when it was just her and her dad.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" Benedict smiled at her (oblivious to how his words directly caused the rosying of his companion's cheeks). "Probably the sweetest person to ever grace Aubrey Hollow, actually. I can't remember the last time someone walked into my room and actually apologised for disturbing me."

"I am really sorry if I did." Sophie added immediately.

"Don't be silly." he waved off. "It wasn't even you who barged in."

During Colin's tour as he led Sophie and the gaggle of younger siblings through the house, she had been shown everyone's bedroom with the younger siblings eager to show her every last toy and poster and miscellany possible. She hadn't expected Colin to then march right into Anthony's bedroom, who had immediately barked at them all to get out and stay out (though the eldest brother had then stuck his head out the door and told Sophie he wasn't aiming any of his anger at her), only for Colin to then barge right into Benedict's bedroom as well. Unlike Anthony, Benedict hadn't chastised the uninvited guests to his room and had happily sat back as Colin and the rest of his younger siblings showed Sophie around the bedroom which was situated the highest in the house. She had tried her best to play it cool the most during the tour of his bedroom; her eyes perusing intently over his artwork, scanning over his desk cluttered with sketchbooks and paints and ornaments, and giving Clement a stroke as he dozed in his cage by the window overlooking the countryside that stretched out around Aubrey Hollow.

"And besides, you think I'm not used to my family barging into my room at any given moment?"

"I know. I just wouldn't want to bother you and disturb your peace."

"Soph; you could never disturb my peace." he told her in earnest and nudged his shoulder against hers. "In fact, I exclusively give you permission to disturb me as and when you feel like."

Sophie giggled and even though she was sure Benedict was joking, it still made her giddy that he was being so kind and welcoming to her.

"And after saving me from my stepmum, I give you permission to disturb me too. If you so choose to." she returned in kind while trying to ensure she didn't cross any line which he might interpret to be flirting (as she would be mortified if she ever gave any suggestion to the true depth of her feelings for him).

There was a beat of silence where Sophie chewed on a particularly sticky toffee chocolate and she assumed Benedict was similarly munching on an equally tough bite of toffee to explain the silence between them.

"Has she always been like that?"

Sophie turned to him, mildly confused by Benedict's line of questioning that had soured his light jovial tone into a more serious one to match the newly drawn frown on his face.

"Who?"

"Your stepmum."

"Oh." Sophie uttered as she realised Benedict's question was referring to the way Araminta had gone to strike her before he had inadvertently intervened. "Well... she never liked me. She always argued with my dad about it."

"About what?" Benedict's frown deepened.

Sophie gave a small shrug. "My existence, I guess. I don't know. It's like the second she saw me, I instantly got under her skin. And no matter how hard I tried I could never win her round. Even though I was always good, I never misbehaved, I always tried to please her... I don't know, she just never liked me. Or even tried to like me."

Benedict shook his head sympathetically as he listened. "Did your dad know? About her... hitting you?"

"She never did it while he was alive. It was only after he died that she hit me at will. Not all the time, to be fair. Only when she was really mad at me."

"But why would she be mad with you?" Benedict asked, his jaw clenched the further Sophie expanded on the subject.

"Rosamund would make up stuff about me, like I had finished the last of the sweets or had played dress up with her clothes and spilled stuff on them when it was actually her. It didn't matter that Posy tried to back me up, she'd still hit me. And basically anything that went wrong in the house, for some reason she'd blame me and attack me for it."

"I'm so sorry you ever had to go through that." Benedict said after a beat of silence.

"It's not your fault." Sophie shrugged.

"But Sophie, you shouldn't have suffered any of it. And you're a child; even if you did anything remotely wrong it doesn't give her any right to hit you!" Benedict shook his head with frustration. "And the fact that she disliked you from the off... I just can't wrap my head around it. How anyone could not like you or even reach a point of hating you?"

"But that's just life, right? Not everyone you meet is going to like you."

"No, Sophie. You're the sweetest, kindest, loveliest person I've ever met." he told her, causing Sophie's heart to clench from the glowing perception he had of her. "It's literally impossible for anyone to meet you and instantly dislike you - and it's a reflection on how awful a person someone must be if they do."

"Well, Araminta is a pretty awful person."

"Not just awful. Nasty. Vile. Horrible. Wicked. Cruel. She's detestable."

"Can't argue with you on any of that." Sophie replied light-heartedly.

"It's just... it genuinely upsets me to know that you endured any of that, Sophie. That anyone could ever physically hurt you or make you feel bad about yourself. You don't deserve it, any of it. You're far too wonderful to have someone like her in your life. She's just a monster - and you know what, I don't even regret accidentally using magic against her."

"It's okay, Ben." she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand as she realised just how emotional he was getting. "I'm safe now. You and Colin and Anthony made sure of that, and I'll be forever grateful to you all for saving me and to your family for taking me in. It means the world to know that I have a family as caring as yours looking out for me."

She hadn't expected it when he then hugged her tight, and just like she savoured the chocolates they had been sharing, she savoured the sudden embrace for all it was worth, indulging in the feeling of his arms wrapped around her and just how safe, protected, and cared about he made her feel. She tried to squash any feelings bubbling away in her heart that tried to get her hopes up by making her believe that this was a sign he might like her just as much as she liked him; instead she focused on relishing the fact that he was clearly very fond of her, even if it was just platonic on his part.

"You're one of the family now, Soph. You always will be." he told her before pulling away. "You're stuck with us now, I'm afraid."

"Hey, so long as you're willing to share your stash of chocolate with me, I'll happily stick around." she teased back and finally the mood lifted as she managed to get a chuckle out of him.

Benedict then replaced the chocolate box back in it's hidey hole before closing the wall back up and putting the photo back where it belonged. Together they then walked up the stairs until they reached Colin's bedroom on the floor below Benedict's.

"Thanks again." Sophie whispered. "For everything."

"Don't mention it." he smiled back. "We could meet again tomorrow night, seeing as we didn't finish the box."

"Sounds like a plan." she smirked back, schooling her face to veil just how thrilled she was to plan another tête-à-tête with him for the following night.

"Goodnight, Soph."

"Goodnight, Ben."

With one last parting smile, he continued to ascend the staircase and Sophie slipped back into Colin's bedroom. Her friend had remained utterly undisturbed as his gentle snores continued while Sophie got back into her bed. She turned on her side and closed her eyes, her mind filled with the midnight meeting she had just had with the object of her affections. With a smile on her face she indulged in one of her many fantasies, one which now included an adorable baby identical to the photo of Benedict that she cuddled as she shared a box of chocolates with her husband; a fantasy which squeezed at her heart as she blissfully drifted off to sleep.

[pensbridge]

Bridgerton x Pride & Predjudice Drabble

[Colin after holding Penelope's hand when failing to apologize from their encounter, as she looks ill over the Lady Whistledown secret and all unfolding around them]

"He supposed he should have deemed the evening a failure for that reason alone. But in all truth, he couldn't quite bring himself to do so. After all he'd spent the better part of five minutes holding her hand." [RMB~Ch. 11]

Once Penelope pulled away, against his own jurisdiction nor any reasoning he could conjure in a moment's notice, Colin shuddered longing for a touch he'd never really known. He missed the consistency of her presence, this deep-seated reliability..perpetual like a singular promise in this uncertain world. It was a constant and an unfamiliarity in all the years of them knowing each other. Instinctively, something occurred at his very side—the unconscious flick and twitch of his forelimbs. Without knowledge nor any autonomy of his reflexes, he adjusted his hand, flexing in a manner that one could not differentiate between re-longing, subconscious intuition of something that's always been there, or an attempt to rid this newfound urge he'd detected. Perhaps it could have been all three; not even Colin could articulate the chaos running through him. Was this a feeling he's always acquired? Was this feeling anything at all or was it something destined to fade as the weeks come to pass? The unrestrained part of Colin seemed to want to remember the feeling, not that he would have any choice of the matter; he would have that engraved for a long time and surely it would be the only thing he would be able to think about for the next few days.

[sophiebaek]

Motion

The odds of meeting one specific person in your life is a 0.001 chance – out of all of the train routes and all of the cabins Sophie was in the same one as him.

Read more

[apinchofm]

Requesting Kanthony # 17

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

Kate glared at Lord Bridgerton. She did not need him stating the obvious. The moment the lift jolted, her heart dropped with it.

"Bloody old building..." He muttered, pressing the alert button.

"The palace of Westminster is certainly up to scratch, my lord." Kate said sarcastically as she took out her phone.

He narrowed his eyes. All day she had been poking at his status and previous voting records. He was, technically a Tory peer after all. But it was an inherited title! And well, he liked having access to Whites.

Anthony had thought Eloise had a good point to recommend Kate Sharma to advise him for this care bill but all they did was butt heads. And now they were stuck in a lift.

"Tweeting about the waste of tax payer money used in the refurbishment because you're stuck with a Tory?" Anthony asked sarcastically and she glared at him.

"I'm supposed to pick my sister up from the train station. She's home from uni only for the weekend." Kate said and groaned in frustration when she saw her message wouldn't send.

"Oh." Anthony replied, "I didn't realise."

"What?"

"I thought you were an only child." Anthony shrugged, "You have that sort of...vibe."

"Vibe?" She repeated, her voice slightly raised. If he continued, Kate was sure only one of them would emerge from this elevator alive but it appears that Viscount Bridgerton had little tact.

"You seem, well, a little cold." Anthony said and immediately regretted it.

Kate scoffed, "Says the man who voted against the expansion of maternity leave and care."

"I didn't think the bill went far enough!"

She raised an eyebrow, "You didn't?"

"No, I wanted... I wanted to rally for more maternal and paternal leave. That's why I called you in."

He had read her article arguing for better maternity care for marginalised people in the UK and knowing that she has been so steadfast as a barrister too, he wanted to meet her.

Kate uncrossed her arm, "Well, that is certainly unexpected."

"I have sisters. My mother had a few difficult births." He shrugged, "Not that she didn't have great care but..."

"Luckier than most women."

He nodded in agreement, "She was. And that's why I want to do more. I know what you think of me - a heartless prick who took his inherited seat because he felt like it. But I want to help people."

Kate studied him, his brown eyes gentle with sincerity.

"Okay, then." Kate conceded, "Can I tell you what I think is needed, without your interruptions?"

Anthony chuckled, "Please do."

[khioneee]

könig was a gentleman, no doubt about it. he’d open your jars without hesitation, offer you his jacket the moment you shivered, and god forbid you try to open a door—he’d sooner throw himself in front of a moving car than let you lift a finger. polite, chivalrous, and protective to the point of obsession.

könig was a gentleman.

but in bed, that facade shattered. in bed, könig was all man—fierce, raw, and possessive.

“mine,” he growled low in your ear, the word vibrating through you like a command. his voice dripped with ownership, each syllable leaving no room for argument. he wasn’t just saying it; he was declaring it, as if by the act alone, he had carved his name into your very soul.

and you would have denied it—if it weren’t true. no one else would ever fit where he’d been. no one else would ever reach where he’s been. not after him. you knew it, and he knew it. there was no going back now. you’re ruined for anyone else. so, as far as you were concerned, he better be planning to stay—because no one but könig could ever fill the void he left behind.

his cock twitched in response, like it was already considering going again, jerking slightly as you clenched around him. a warm trickle of his seed slipped from you, and the sight seemed to set him off all over again.

he grabbed your chin, rough and unrelenting, turning your face to meet his gaze. his eyes were dark and heavy with desire, an unquenchable hunger simmering beneath the surface.

“tell me it’s mine, maus,” he snarled, his voice sharp and desperate, like the words themselves could tether you to him forever.

and you knew—knew there was only one answer you could give, one that would satisfy the man hovering over you, his body tense with need and ownership.

“it’s yours,” you whispered breathlessly. “it’s always been yours.”

his lips curled into a satisfied, feral grin as if your words were the final piece to a puzzle he had already solved. there was no gentleness left in him now—only a man who knew he had claimed what was his.

[lqveharrington]

Masquerade Ball | D.M.

summary: The Malfoys hold a masquerade ball in hopes of finding Draco a wife.

pairing: prince!draco malfoy x lady!potter!reader

includes: use of Y/N, mutual pinning, both oblivious, really just fluff with a tiny bit of angst

a/n: it’s like a mix of benedict’s story but not

As a child, Draco never understood how important he was to England’s society. He was always confined within the palace walls—forced to attend endless galas and balls hosted by his parents until his feet ached. Perhaps he could have escaped those obligations when he was younger, but now, he was trapped in a cycle of socializing with eligible maidens in hopes of finding a wife.

He had tried running away once at the age of seven but ran back to his mother the moment he encountered a beggar at the palace gates. It was then he realized how sheltered he truly was, unaware of the hardships beyond the gilded walls.

When Draco once questioned his status withing the kingdom, Lucius merely replied, "You will rule when you turn two and twenty." As the sole heir with no sibling, the weight of the kingdom rested squarely on Draco's shoulders.

Yet, as the years ticked closer to his inevitable coronation, he made no progress in finding a bride. Lucius' patience began to wane, culminating in the grand decision to host a masquerade ball to enhance his son's chances of courting a suitable queen.

And of course, Draco had words to say about the situation.

He adjusted his dark suit and spun the silver ring on his finger, meeting his mother's eyes through the standing mirror. "Mother—"

"Do not fuss, Draco," Narcissa chided gently, wiping invisible dust off her son's perfectly pressed suit. "Your father has made up his mind. You are to take the throne in two years. This must be done."

"And if I find no one?" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, tilting his head at the piece of hair sticking out. It wouldn’t lay flat if he tried gelling it down.

"Then we will try again next month," She said softly, squeezing his arm. She looked between his eyes and sighed, "Please, try, my love."

"They don't care for me, mother," Draco muttered and turned to face her, rolling his shoulders back—already dreading dancing with women who want the fame and fortune. "They care about being a queen."

"Which is why it is a masquerade ball," Narcissa explained and grabbed the mask that resembled a peacock. "You will blend with the crowd, your identity hidden." She slipped the mask over his head and patted his cheek. "Get to know them without the burden of your title."

"And you believe this will work?"

"I do!" She smiled brightly and stepped away from him, ready to make her arrival with her husband. Narcissa gave him a reassuring smile and nodded. "Tu es très beau, Draco. Just... be yourself."

Draco gave her a weak smile and watched her leave his room, letting his shoulders slouch down the second the door shut. He ran his fingers through his hair again and let his mind dwell on thoughts that were unbearable.

"When has that ever worked out for me?" He muttered underneath his breath, looking in the mirror again to notice the only identifiable thing about him was his piercing silver eyes.

"Papa, why are you staring at me like that?" You asked, adjusting your flowing gown while your mother fussed with your hair.

"Yes, James, what are you staring at her for?" Lily inquired with an arched brow, perfectly pinning your hair into a dolled up bun and slipping a silver rose in its center.

"Nothing." James grumbled and fiddled with the peacock feathers on the end of your mask, thumbing the string. "Just... be safe, alright? This is your first time attending one of the King's socials without us. What if you get kidnapped?"

"James!" Lily gasped and smacked her husband on the chest, snatching the mask from him and handing it to you instead.

"Papa!" You laughed and kissed his cheek, pulling the mask over your head. "I'll be fine. Hermione and Ginny will be there, and Harry too." You pull your curls free from the mask and tilt your head at the mirror, touching up minor details such as the skewed mask and stray pieces of hair. "Besides, I doubt I'll dance much. Champagne and people-watching sounds far more appealing."

"Maybe mingle a little," Lily suggested and pinched her fingers together, leaning into her husband’s touch. "It's for the young Malfoy to find a wife, after all."

"I'm not fraternizing with Draco," You huffed and adjusted the silver necklace resting on your collarbone, the setting sun shining across the jewelry. "Harry and he practically hate each other. Not exactly ideal courtship material."

"Imagine you as queen," James mused and pretended to command a group of handmaids to fetch more books for your extensive library. You were always going to be a bookworm like your mother and he bet you would do anything to have a room the size of the palace for your books.

"James!" Lily scolded jokingly once more before smiling softly at you, clasping your hands in hers. "Just be safe, Y/N."

"Of course," You squeezed her hands and smiled back before heading out the door, tilting your head as you called out for your brother. "Harry!"

James winced as your voice echoed throughout the foyer, Lily letting a small laugh slip through. "Bloody hell, that girl can shout.”

"Why does this place look fancier than usual?" Ron grumbled, glancing around the grand ballroom adorned with glittering chandeliers and cascading drapes.

It wasn't odd to see the palace all dolled up, but everything looked so much more expensive and one of a kind. Like it was an even more special experience. There were pyramids of champagne in every corner and in the center of the ballroom was one of the largest orchestra groups you’ve seen in years.

"Because it's a masquerade ball, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on his arm, making him kiss her cheek to make up for his remark. "Honestly."

"So, Y/N," Ginny nudged your shoulder—a mischievous smile decorating her face—ignoring Harry’s warning look. "Anyone you're hoping to dance with tonight?"

"I don’t think so, Gin.” You push your mask up and stare at all the people entering the palace. Even they were surprised at all the added decorations.

"Boring," Ginny teased before leaning into Harry and whispering something inaudible, making you roll your eyes at the two of them. If they had to be so in love, they shouldn’t do it in front of you.

Just as you opened your mouth to retort the sickening sweet scene, trumpets blared from the top of the staircase, redirecting everyone's attention to the far end of the ballroom where Lucius and Narcissa stood—the couple adorning their own masks.

"Please welcome His Majesty, the King, and Her Majesty, the Queen!"

Lucius made quick remarks about the importance of the evening before a sly grin appeared on his face, earning quiet whispers from the audience. "Enjoy yourselves tonight! For who knows when the prince will arrive..."

The whispers only intensified at the mention of the prince arriving at a later time. Could he possibly be avoiding the event himself? But that would make sense, not when the event was for him.

"Interesting," Hermione murmured as if she read your mind, making your brows raise in amusement.

"What is?" Ron asked.

"Draco isn't here for his own ball," She noted, glancing around the room for any signs of the prince.

You huff and push her toward her beloved. You would make sure Hermione had a good time rather than dwell on something that didn’t matter too much. If you had to see your brother and Ginny be all lovey, you would have Ron and Hermione do the same.

"Go dance with Ron."

Hermione sighed and took Ron's outstretched hand before looking back at you, narrowing her eyes. "Do not be a wallflower tonight. I expect you to dance with someone at least once.”

You shrug your shoulders and watch her disappear into the dancing crowd before spinning toward one of the many towers of champagne. Unfortunately, someone just had to come find you.

"Lady Y/N!" A familiar voice called out, making you freeze at how awful this coincidence was. It wasn’t like you could’ve avoided the man for too long, especially when the whole bloody kingdom was invited to the ball.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath and presented a fake smile to him, hands clenching by your sides in annoyance as you gave him a short curtsey. "Lord Cormac."

"How delightful to see you!" Cormac grinned and eyed you up and down like you were his next meal, your mind and body hating everything about him. "Would you like to accompany me this evening?"

Your eyes widened in fear and disgust, mind racing millions per hour to find a plausible excuse. “Actually—“

"Is there a problem?" A smooth, unfamiliar voice interrupted your pathetic excuse, allowing you to recollect your thoughts.

Cormac's grin faltered at the sudden interruption, taking a short step back at the sight of the taller man. "We were talking."

"I believe the lady declined," The newcomer said evenly, keeping his face as schooled as possible.

Cormac huffed but retreated in annoyance, making you grin. You turned to the stranger to find him staring McLaggen down until the boy finally moved to the other side of the ballroom. His mask obscured most of his face, but his silver eyes gleamed with amusement and victory. Funny, you found his McLaggen’s obedience quite amusing as well.

"My knight and shining armor." You quipped and tucked your hands behind your back, taking small steps toward the champagne tower you were supposed to be minutes ago. "Have we met?"

"Not officially," He smirked beneath his mask and followed, copying your small movements. "A masquerade ball is about knowing someone without truly knowing them, isn't it?” He took two glasses from the tower and handed you one—doing his best not to knock any other glasses down. “Forgive me for keeping my identity a secret.”

"Then I'll do the same, my knight." You give june a curt nod before taking a sip, the drink fizzing down your throat.

"Is that what I am now?" He chuckled and looked at you from above the rim of his own drink, silver eyes shining with interest.

You grin, "Yes."

He hummed and tilted his head at you, "Then you shall be my Ivy.”

"Unique." You raise your brows and take another sip of champagne. "Why Ivy?"

"You're dressed in a deep green," He noted. "And as unassuming as you may look, I sense there's poison beneath."

"You say that like you know me already," You narrowed your eyes playfully, placing your glass back on a passing tray as a song finished.

"A quick interaction is all one needs." He countered and finished off his champagne. He waited for the music to start up again before offering you a hand, "Care to dance?"

Without a second thought, you took his hand and readied yourself in the starting position, joining the rest of the partners on the floor. Your right hand was gently clasped in his left and his hand was warm on your waist.

It all felt different than the other times you’ve danced. It felt comfortable.

You tilted your head up as he spun you around, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well, I’m an only child," He said as you moved to walk around one another, eyes still locked onto yours. "Rarely left home unless dragged to events like these. Not much of an exciting life."

"Surely there's more. Friends? Acquaintances?" You press and take hold of his hand as he glides you across the ballroom—each note from the orchestra filling the background.

"Most used me for status." He admitted and quickly adjusted his mask and hold on you. "I learned from it.” You nodded and lightly held onto his arms when he dipped you, faces mere inches from one another. He pulled you up, “And you?"

"One older brother. Protective to a fault. Thinks every man is a threat." You rolled your eyes and separate yourself from him, letting him follow before clasping his left hand again. "I’ll admit, I came to the ball to be with friends.” You follow his steps as the dancers created a gorgeous pattern from above. “Dancing wasn't on the agenda, but... this isn't terrible.”

He smiled at your confession before remembering what the point of this ball was for. "What are your thoughts on the prince?"

"He can be...” You hesitated and looked around like the prince himself could hear you. “Difficult."

"Difficult?" He echoed and tilted his head to the side in interest.

"My brother has always had a grudge against him." You explained before spinning, heels clicking against the marble flooring. "I've had to endure their spats. Not the best memories. But it's not like I'll speak to him tonight."

He chuckled softly, silver eyes glinting behind his mask. "You never know. Masquerades are full of surprises."

And as you danced together, the room blurred began to blur, the weight of titles and expectation fading into the music and laughter. You found yourself relaxing, allowing the mysterious man to guide you across the floor with ease. His hand on your waist was steady yet respectful, and for the first time, you found yourself enjoying a ball.

"You're a good dancer," You remarked, glancing up at him through your mask—his blonde hair perfectly combed except for a small curl at the front.

"I've had years of practice," He replied smoothly. "Though I usually find these events unbearable. This is... different."

You smiled. It’s like you had the same thoughts. "Perhaps the mask makes it easier to be yourself. No judgements. No expectations."

He hummed thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you. "Perhaps. Or perhaps its the company."

Heat crept up your neck, and you glanced away, spotting Ginny grinning at you from the sidelines. You shot her a playful glare before focusing back on your partner. "Careful, my knight. Flattery might get you into trouble."

"Is that a risk you're willing to let me take?" He teased and dipped you, your eyes quickly darting to his lips before meeting his eyes again with your wide ones.

Before you could respond, the music shifted, signaling the end of the dance. He gently released you, bowing with a flourish. "Thank you for the dance, Ivy."

You curtsied in return, heart pounding from whatever feeling you just experienced. "The pleasure was mine, Knight."

As you parted ways, you found yourself glancing back at him, only to see he was doing the same. You quickly turned, chastising yourself for the flutter in your chest.

Draco leaned against a column, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. There was something about the girl—the way she challenged him, spoke without pretense. He shook his head. It was foolish to dwell on a fleeting interaction. Yet... He couldn't ignore the way his chest tightened at the thought of her laughter.

"Enjoying yourself?" Blaise sidled up next to him, nursing a glass of champagne.

Draco kept his eyes locked on the many guests in the ballroom, scouring the place for his Ivy. He wasn’t sure if this was what his mother told him about when he was younger. That maybe those silly fairy tales were true.

"Surprisingly," Draco admitted and let out a small chuckle. "Met someone... intriguing."

Blaise arched a brow, "Do tell."

Draco merely smirked, "Just someone worth dancing with.”

The night wore on with more dances, laughter, and champagne than you anticipated. Yet, your thoughts kept drifting back to the silver-eyed stranger. When you finally decided to seek fresh air, you slipped out to the palace gardens, the cool breeze a welcome relief.

"Running away?" A familiar voice drawled, your insides warming at the sound.

You turned, finding him seated on a marble bench beneath a canopy of roses. "Escaping," You corrected and fiddled with your necklace. "Balls can be… suffocating."

"Agreed," He nodded and patted the space beside him, tilting his head at you. "Care to join me?"

Hesitating only a moment, you sat down, the silence between you comfortable. Stars glittered above, and for a while, neither of you spoke. It felt nice.

"Why Ivy?" You asked suddenly. You were sure there was something more to the nickname than what he previously said.

He chuckled and leaned back on the bench. "Told you. Your dress. The presence you carry. You cling to walls but have thorns when approached. Fascinating contrast."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, humoring him. "And you? You're alright with Knight?"

"You said it yourself. Rescuing you from McLaggen was quite the heroic act." He grinned and met your eyes.

Laughing, you nudged him with your shoulder. "Hardly slaying dragons."

"Ah, but you never know." He mused, gaze drifting to the sky and tracing the stars his mother taught him about all these years. "Like I said, masquerades are full of surprises."

You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by that, but the sound of the final dance being announced interrupted your thoughts.

"One more?" He offered, standing and extending his hand.

"Why not?" Taking it, you let him lead you back inside with a smile your swore would hurt your cheeks the next day.

The ballroom felt different this time. More intimate. As you danced, you realized you didn't want the night to end. There was something inexplicably magnetic about him, something you couldn't place but didn't want to let go of.

"Do you think we'll meet again after tonight?" You ventured and glance between his eyes.

He hesitated, something flickering in his gaze. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it's best we don't. Some things are better left as a beautiful memory."

Your heart sank at the thought of truly knowing who your knight was. "I suppose that's true."

As the music reached its crescendo, he leaned in, voice a mere whisper against your ear. "Thank you for tonight, Ivy."

Before you could reply, he stepped back, bowing deeply. And then, just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.

You stood frozen, scanning the room, but he was gone.

"Y/N! There you are!" Hermione’s voice suddenly filled the space as she grabbed your arm. "The prince is about to reveal himself. Come on!"

Reluctantly, you followed her to the front of the crowd, mind half-heartedly paying attention to the reveal of the prince. Trumpets blared once more, and the King stepped forward, his wife grinning brightly by his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending. Now, allow me to present my son, your future king. Prince Draco."

Your breath caught as a figure ascended the stairs. The crowd parted, and there he stood—silver eyes, blonde hair, and the very same mask now resting in his hand.

Your heart stopped.

No. It couldn't be.

His gaze swept over the crowd... and landed on you. His expression mirrored your shock, realization dawning.

You were Ivy.

And he was Draco.

Neither of you spoke. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the grand ballroom.

Masquerades, you thought dazedly, really were full of surprises.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐞 || 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 ||

A/n: on this kick again 🤭

If there was one thing Theodore James Bridgerton loved almost as much as his parents, it was his Uncle Colin. And with all the love a two-year-old could possess, Theo had made it his personal mission in life to scare Colin Bridgerton at every possible opportunity.

No one really knew how it started. Perhaps it was the infamous paint-on-the-face incident, or maybe it was simply that Theo found Uncle Colin’s reactions particularly hilarious. Either way, a war had been declared, and only one Bridgerton knew about it—and it certainly was not Colin.

The First Attack – The Surprise Under the Desk

It had been an unusually peaceful afternoon at Bridgerton House. Colin was in his study, completely engrossed in writing in his travel journal. With a quill in hand and deep in thought, he failed to notice the tiny figure creeping beneath his desk.

You, watching from the hallway, silently gasped as you spotted your son slithering like a little gremlin into the study, his small body barely making a sound as he tucked himself underneath Colin’s desk.

You barely had enough time to think as Colin, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking beneath him, dipped his quill into the ink, sighing deeply. “Ah, peace and quiet at la—”

“RAAAAHHH!”

A small but ferocious scream erupted from beneath the desk as Theo latched onto Colin’s leg, shaking it with all his two-year-old strength.

Colin let out an undignified yelp, nearly knocking over the entire ink bottle. His chair scraped violently against the floor as he practically levitated out of his seat.

“GOOD LORD—”

The entire house erupted with laughter as Colin clutched his chest, looking down to find a giggling little monster rolling onto the floor in pure joy.

You covered your mouth, shaking with laughter as Anthony walked by, not even surprised at this point. He paused, looked inside the study, saw Colin looking like he’d just seen a ghost, and simply nodded approvingly at Theo.

“Well done, son,” Anthony murmured as he walked past.

Colin pointed at the little menace, still rolling with laughter on the floor. “HE HAS NO FEAR.”

Theo gasped between giggles. “BOO, UNCLE COLIN!” The two year old oblivious to his Uncle's plight's

Colin groaned, rubbing his face. “Oh, it’s going to be a long few years.”

The Next Attack – The Closet Ambush

Colin was paranoid after the desk incident, but not paranoid enough. Not according to his younger sister at least.

Days later, Colin made his way toward the coat closet to retrieve his jacket before heading out to meet Benedict. What he didn’t know was that Theo had been placed in the closet moments before by Eloise, who had gleefully encouraged his schemes.

The door creaked open.

Colin reached inside, humming to himself—

“ROAR!”

A tiny blur launched itself at his legs.

Colin screamed.

Theo, laughing hysterically, wrapped his tiny arms around Colin’s knees while Eloise collapsed against the wall wheezing.

Anthony, walking by yet again, paused, took one look at the scene, and nodded with great approval.

“Impressive.”

Colin, clutching the doorframe for dear life, turned to Anthony, utterly betrayed. “Do you encourage this?”

Anthony smirked, scooping Theo up. “I’d be a terrible father if I didn’t.”

Theo, still giggling in his father’s arms, pointed at Colin. “I got you, Uncle Colin!”

Colin dragged a hand down his face. “Yes, yes, again.”

Eloise, still laughing breathlessly, grinned. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Colin groaned. “He’s two. What happens when he gets faster?”

Anthony’s smirk widened. “Then, dear brother, I suggest you start running.”

The Ultimate Attack – The Ghost of Aubrey Hall

Colin thought he had seen the worst of Theo’s antics.

He was wrong of course.

One late evening at Aubrey Hall, Colin was making his way toward the library when the candles suddenly flickered. The hallway was eerily silent, save for the faint sound of…

Giggling?

Colin paused, eyes narrowing. “…Hello?”

Silence.

Then—

A tiny white sheet with two poorly cut holes for eyes appeared in the doorway.

“OOOOOoooooOOOOHHHHHH!”

Colin nearly collapsed against the wall, his soul leaving his body.

“NO.”

The tiny ghost toddled forward, arms raised menacingly.

“BOO!

Colin flinched so hard that he stumbled backward, crashing straight into the wall.

Theo, delighted beyond belief, ripped the sheet off, his giggles shaking his tiny body.

“I GOT YOU, UNCLE COLIN! AGAIN!”

Benedict walked by, took one look at the scene—Colin collapsed on the floor, looking like he had seen death itself, Theo squealing with victory—and burst out laughing so loudly that you heard it from two rooms away.

Anthony entered next, arms crossed, shaking his head with pride.

“I swear, Colin, it’s as if you’re not even trying to defend yourself,” Anthony remarked.

Colin, still breathing heavily, glared at his older brother. “I am at war with a toddler, Anthony.”

Theo clapped his hands with joy. “UNCLE COLIN SAID WAR!”

Anthony smirked. “I’d surrender now if I were you.”

Benedict chuckled. “Or else you might not survive the next attack.”

Theo, eyes twinkling, pointed directly at Colin. “More boo laterrrr.”

Colin groaned, dragging a hand over his face, the man's heart still pounding in his chest.

“I have to sleep with one eye open for the next ten years, don’t I?”

Eloise, now arriving and hearing everything, smirked. “At least ten years.”

Colin sighed dramatically. “I hate all of you.”

Theo beamed. “Love you, Uncle Colin!”

Colin stared at him for a long moment before exhaling in defeat. “…Love you too, little menace.”

And so, the war between Theo and Uncle Colin continued—because for all his suffering, Colin secretly loved the chaos and most of all, Colin loved his adorable little nephew.

[knowbites]

　✶　SPRINGTIME LONGING　｡｡　feat.ㅤhan jisung

　────　as soon as he meets you, he's head over heels . . .

⠀ pairing.⠀⠀han jisung x f!reader⠀wc.⠀⠀3 k words ⠀ genre.⠀⠀fluff⠀cw.⠀⠀not really, it's a cute love at first sight fic, bridgerton inspired. mention of little wounds tho ( scratches, really ) & minho 's soonie is a paid actor here!

an.⠀⠀happy saturday .. and happy bday to @cinhomi ! hi my sweet rora, this is for youu! i know it's short, and just an edited version of an old fic of mine, but this is one of my fav works out of all i've written so far, and i wanted to gift it to you. i hope you like it 🤍

The carriage stopped, and Jisung didn't wait for the coachman to open the door before jumping out. He was late, and although it wasn't unusual, his old friend Minho would kill him if he didn't show up on time.

He didn't bother to look at his pocket watch as he walked the cobblestone path of the Lee manor's entrance, hands clenched into fists, and flashed a quick, apologetic smile at the housekeeper who opened the door for him before his fingers caressed the metal knocker. Her eyes, wrinkled with years, narrowed into two crescent moons at the sight of him, a smile curved with amusement: she had watched him grow up, had memorised his habits. The Lord Han she knew would never have arrived on time, even if he had wanted to.

Jisung hurried inside, giving her a brief grin as he felt the housekeeper taking the hat from his head to put it away, and paused for a moment to take a deep breath of air. The hall was empty, the only source of noise being the bustle coming from the kitchen, and Jisung knew that the guests had already been moved to the garden. According to the thorough planning that characterised his friend's mother, the gathering on the beautiful outdoors patio would lead to a long-awaited ‘welcome home’ meal, and Minho would surely notice his absence.

Shit.

He hurried through the hallways, the rustle of the fabric of his pants like a steady tune that followed the firm thuds of his footsteps on the marble floor, the soundtrack of a march that haunted him until he reached the big blue room. He had spent many afternoons playing with Minho in that place, scampering around the sofas and the servants, sneaking in and out to wallow in the grass, and he could almost feel the tightness in his throat closing up, as if he had just run with his friend to the oak tree by the lake and back.

He stood in the doorway, taking a deep breath to calm the erratic beating of his heart, flattening the lapels of his suit jacket against his chest. He wanted to think that the shaking in his hands was the effect of a day too cold and a coat not thick enough, but the weather had changed in the last few weeks and there was no snow left that hadn't melted. Jisung closed his eyes. He knew it was a side effect of his lack of social skills. He just didn't know why he kept arriving late to places when it made him so uncomfortable to have to enter a room full of people totally alone.

Then he realised that on that occasion it was the garden that was full of people, and he was the one who remained in a room, and he chuckled, shaking his head. What an idiot. He would be fine. Plus, he knew the Lee family—it wasn't going to be that bad.

Jisung opened the glass door carefully, almost afraid of shutting himself in, though he was not sure whether he was terrified of not being capable of getting out or of being unable to get in, and measured his steps as he made his way out into the courtyard. The first to notice his presence was Lady Lee, Countess of Gimpo, and on her face was drawn a beautiful toothy smile that Jisung could not help but mirror on his own lips, walking towards her when she quickly gestured for him to approach her.

The Countess ignored the panicked face of the butler, who should have announced Jisung as soon as he had arrived, and instead greeted him effusively and affectionately, pleased with his answers, his easy laughter and the myriad of promises about organising a gathering with his own mother as soon as possible.

Minho and his family had been travelling during the coldest months of the year, and now that the first rays of sun heralded warmer days in its most comforting form, they had finally returned, to enjoy the few months of heat before the new courting season began. And Jisung couldn't wait to hug his best friend again, even if it meant putting up with all the jokes about the experience he had gained in Europe and how little he had been missed. It was part of who Minho was, all the teasing, the sharp smirks, and the least he could do was get to his welcome back event on time, which… Well, he hadn't been able to do.

Lady Lee's attention gradually slid from her son's friend to the man she had been chatting with before, and Jisung took it as the signal to withdraw, offering a respectful bow towards them and walking away. He tried to —finally— find Minho in the crowd, but there was so much hustle and bustle and so many people that he felt overwhelmed, nervousness creeping back into his system, so he decided to wander to the margins of the patio, where waiters were standing by with trays, ready to serve the dishes as soon as the lunch was announced.

From the outside it was much easier to find Minho, distinguishing his broad shoulders among the people, moving in laughter at his companion's words. He smiled, recognising every curve of his best friend's back, the confidence in his posture, the heat rising to his cheeks as Jisung realised how big Minho had become, and saw the soft waves of his dark hair move in rhythm with his laughter. And he saw you, the companion, giggling too, covering your mouth with an expert twist of your fan, your cheeks flushed, in front of Minho. And when you looked at him, for a minute he forgot how to breathe.

Because looking into your eyes was like listening to a melody. He could hear the quartet that Minho's mother had chosen for the event playing from the little wooden platform by the lake, but it was a completely different tune than that. Your gaze, cheerful and serene, sang of mischievous breezes swaying the treetops at will, of dances without music barefoot on the grass and of the warm rays of the sun kissing your skin. You brought the spring with you, that spring that filled him with life and hope after a harsh winter, and as he lost himself in your shinny pupils, standing among the multitude, he wondered how his heart had been able to beat until that moment when it hadn’t had you to beat for.

“Hey, Ji!” Minho called his name, following your gaze, and approaching him in a couple of steps, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

Minho was dry in words, but his actions showed clearly enough how he truly felt.

Jisung's body reacted with the force of habit, relaxing into his hold with a quiet sigh, letting himself be embraced by the soothing warmth of Minho’s arms, but immediately tightening his grip on him, as if he was afraid that he would get back on that ship with the sudden desire to travel again. He couldn't allow it, he wouldn’t, at least for a long time. Unless they went together, that is. And after one last squeeze he let him step away, Jisung's hand firm on Minho's back, as Lee's only son turned to you.

“This is Lord Han, as I told you,” he explained, and you bowed before him, lowering your head with a lingering smile curving your lips. Jisung wanted to kiss that smile into his mouth, but he cleared his throat instead, trying to fill his mind with other —more appropriate— thoughts.

“Milady here wanted to visit our city,” he continued, offering his hand to you, waiting for you to rest it over his, and squeeze it with a familiarity that made Jisung’s heart sting, “so I proposed to her to travel back with us and stay for a while. She was the girl I told you about in my last letter.”

The last letter that had arrived that morning, and that he hadn't read because he was arriving late.

“Then you were absolutely right, my brother,” Jisung uttered, his words withering in his tongue as he linked the word ‘propose’ between you and Minho, “you were going on a trip to try and find beautiful views out there in the world. You truly discovered the most breathtaking one.”

Minho gave Jisung a playful punch on the shoulder, his chest filling with pride, ready to affirm any compliment his friend could mutter about you, but he stopped when he saw you addressing Jisung, your voice delicate and honeyed, still hidden behind your fan. 

“My lord really praised your composer skills during our trip here,” you whispered, averting your magnetic gaze from his as if you were having trouble bearing the knowledge that Jisung was observing you, completely stunned, but also desperate to continue any kind of conversation with you. “He forgot to add how much of a gentleman you were.”

But just before either of you could utter a single word, you heard Lady Lee drowning out a terrified shout, standing by the terrace, completely overpowered, and a spark of furious orange fur running across the grass like a shooting star in the darkest night. Minho gasped, and Jisung knew. His cat.

You were the one who took the initiative, unaware of the startled glares, smashing your fan into Minho's chest and grabbing the hem of your dress in one swift move. Before Jisung could realise he was chasing after you, both of you followed the mischievous creature at a fast pace, ignoring the calls of the rest of the men at the event. Jisung stared at your back, starstruck, breathing caught in his throat as he realised you were faster than him, heart rate increasing every second that passed in his hasty run. The only thing he could comprehend was that it wasn't the first time he had dealt with Minho's cats, that they knew him, and that for them you were a stranger. It would be his fault if the animal got stressed in your presence and ended up hurting you.

The hurried race took you both to the forest adjacent to the Lee property, and by the time Jisung spotted your figure among the foliage, he froze. Your elaborate bun had come loose, your flowing hair falling over your shoulders, and you had your dress pulled too far up your thighs, fully prepared to climb the tree where Soonie was waiting, curious about what you were doing.

Jisung couldn't think. He didn't know if you had heard him arrive, if you had even been aware that he had chased after you, but he didn't care. He could only focus on the smooth skin he was witnessing —more than he had ever seen in his life— contrasting with the darker colour of your dress. You didn’t seem uncomfortable being barefoot, your low heels abandoned among the thick roots of the weeping willow, one foot resting on a gap between the folds of the robust trunk and your hands holding tightly to the lowest branches.

It would be difficult to reach Soonie, he thought, because its branch, although low, was too thin for a human, even dangerous with the way it was located above the lake. Jisung could understand why the cat had chosen that tree. He also liked the way its leaves swayed in the wind, and it really did look like a giant feline toy, but Soonie and his two brothers already had scratching toys and little houses in the manor, all handmade by Minho. The adventure had to end before something went wrong.

He had wanted to warn you of his presence, but a leaf creaked under his boots, alerting you, scaring you, and making you lose focus on your tightrope walk along the branch below Soonie's. You lost your balance completely, and Jisung saw your hands trying to grab onto something, anything, before falling into a loud splash on the edge of the lake. Jisung would have laughed if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously hurt.

Jisung stated in his place, paralysed for a second. He would have laughed, if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously hurt.

He rushed over to where you were, mumbling a string of “I'm sorry’s” as you quickly emerged from the water, taking a breath of oxygen, desperately holding onto the hand Jisung was offering you. Your hair formed spirals in the water, floating around you, just like your dress. The water was up to Jisung's waist, but he felt so overstimulated that he wasn't able to process how he had just gotten his pants wet. All he could think about was that your gloves had torn, and that he was touching your skin, the soft but bloody skin of your outstretched hands, and that you were so close he could feel your rapid breathing against his body.

He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thoughts that were popping into his head, and pulled you lightly so you could stand up. Only instead of getting angry with him, blaming him for spying on you, your lips curved into a smile, and you let out a crystalline laugh, closing your eyes and relaxing your shoulders in front of him. You were the picture of happiness, cheeks still rosy and your chest rising and falling against the corset at full speed. Even he felt on edge, with adrenaline bubbling against his ribcage.

“There’s no need to be sorry, lord Han” you whispered under your breath, your eyes falling over him, Soonie purring above your heads. “It was a funny accident. I shouldn't have tried to climb so high.”

You weren't apologizing for running away, Jisung noticed, and he couldn't help but widen his smile at it. He was getting lost in your gaze again, too captured by you, and everything was going too fast. He didn't know if it was good or bad, but he didn't want to stop. At least until he realised that you were getting goosebumps, and the first shiver ran through you. He cursed himself for not having acted sooner, and helped you out of the lake with difficulty, the ground on the shore completely muddy under your bare feet and his heavy boots.

Jisung avoided looking at you as he turned slightly to take off his expensive suit jacket, ready to give it to you, but when he turned to offer it to you, he saw that you were removing your dress. He rushed to put his jacket over your shoulders before you could continue, shame creeping up his neck and leaving a trail of blush in its wake, and you flashed a mischievous smile, fully aware of it.

“I’m not going to end up naked in front of you, lord Han” you assured him, grabbing the thick fabric of your dress and leaving it on the grass, the figure of your body crafted by the thin white nightgown you wore underneath, before snuggling into Jisung's warm black blazer, “you should court me before we get there.”

Your words snapped Jisung out of the haze he was in, suppressing the urge he had to run his hands along your arms to help you warm up, and he picked up your dress and shoes from the floor, keeping his hands well occupied. He was a gentleman, he shouldn't… He had to involve you both in situations appropriate for a young lady like you. Not in an improvised swim, where you were going to end up so... God, so delicate and delicious, looking at him that way.

But he couldn’t. He couldn't continue with that train of thought. Not when everyone knew where you were, when Soonie was judging you two among the roots of the tree, approaching Jisung with the confidence of having found a familiar human. Before he could get any closer, you crouched down, holding out your fingers so he could smell them. It took a suspicious look and realising that Minho's cologne was still soaked in your skin to accept being held in your arms, sticking to your body to provide you with more warmth.

Jisung had to remember to buy Soonie more treats the next time he visited Minho.

“Are you coming?” you asked, oblivious to the way the vision you were was killing Jisung inside, you in his jacket, with that cheeky smile, your hair a wet mess, but still looking so beautiful.

Still, he nodded, treasuring every second in his memory. One look, and you had cast a spell on him. He would follow you wherever you asked as long as you were the one to guide him. He felt like he was in the verge of a cliff, knowing you now held his heart in your hand as easily as you had taken Minho's cat, knowing that if you broke it it would hurt more than a bad cut with a rusty knife. He had fallen catastrophically, but he was sure it would be a pleasure to be irrevocably yours if you'd let him.

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© mars.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🔭 ˚. ⋆͏

[heedeungism]

synopsis: riki knows you better than anyone else. includes: bridgerton au (barely), a little women reference, confessions of love, pre-marital kissing (the scandal!), gross old men, arranged marriage notes: @hoes4hoseok i hope you enjoy my timothee chalamification of riki, this one's for you girl🩷

there’s a thin line between love and friendship. your mother says she was friends with your father before she ever learned to love him, never in the way the poets rave, but in a way that made her life easier. in her words, “a love match is as rare as a diamond, dear. you shouldn’t hold out hope of one should it ruin your debut.”

it’s a shame, you think, that you can love someone so deeply and yet there’s no guarantee they’ll share the sentiment, nor a chance to see if what you feel is dwindling infatuation or true unyielding devotion. it’s improper to explore your options, greedy to want more than expected, and childish to yearn for love. yet you do.

your debut season approaches fast, and with it, the heavy promise of your hand to baron mortimer weighs your heart down like an anchor keeping you from daydreaming of the things you had read and researched about love.  he’s wealthy, titled, and twice your age. he would give your family a more comfortable life, save you from the shame of becoming a spinster if you do not find another suitable match your first season, and seems to be respectable enough despite his intent to marry you, a soon-to-be debutante he set his eyes upon years ago. it’s unnerving, but your mother speaks of him without disdain, so you keep your anxieties about his character at bay.

unfortunately, your dearest friend plagues your mind just so. riki’s return from oxford approaches with the same swiftness as your debut. you dread the idea of no longer having the liberty to write to him or paint him when he’s a willing muse, as it would be improper to do so while promised to another. for that reason you have yet to write to him since your last letter a week ago, where in it you bid him the gentlest farewell you could to help ease the ache in your heart.

you aren’t sure if he even received it, as he has not written back, but you suppose it’s for the best.

at least you believe that until he’s before you with unkempt hair and a haunted look in his tormented gaze. 

“tell me it is not true.” he says, chest rising and falling as if he had run from oxford to mayfair on foot, though perhaps he had been traveling by carriage since he received the letter clutched between his fingers. “tell me you are not marrying that man.”

you are unsure of how to respond, your lips parting hut no words leaving them. you turn toward your ladies maid, who blinks wildly as she receives the message, placing your hairpin down and hastening out of the room past the viscount’s son. the door clicks and yet his gaze remains unyielding, you finally speak, “you are back early, mr nishimura.”

riki had always been exceedingly easy to read, only to you, he used to pout. this moment is no different, and you can see how hard it is for him to wrap his head around his title leaving your lips instead of his name, but he recovers enough to repeat himself, “tell me.”

you place a hand on your stomach, squeezed by a corset that you suspect is why you can’t seem to catch your breath, “i will not lie to you.”

his brows furrow, his teeth peeking from his plump lips as they part in disgust and frustration, “he is old.”

“yes, i am aware of lord mortimer’s age.” you say with a similar frustration on your tongue that is heavily withheld by your propriety, “my mother saw it pertinent i educate myself before our marriage.”

“you cannot marry him.” riki says, and the frustration in your blood blooms into something more, something worse.

“that is not your decision to make.” you state, mindlessly flattening invisible wrinkles in your dress as he takes a step closer, only for you to fortify the distance with one of your own in the same direction, “not any more than it is mine.”

“you…” he loses his words as his hand clenches and releases at his side like he longs to reach for you, “you do not want this.”

“what i want does not matter to my parents anymore than it should to you,” you state, attempting to tuck the loose strand of hair that your ladies maid hadn’t the time to fit into your updo behind your ear, only for it to fall right back into place against your cheekbone, “lord mortimer is wealthy, he will give me a comfortable life.”

“do you not deserve a happy one?” riki asks, and you feel the cracks in your chest widen. instinctively, you fight the tremble of your chin and the tug in your brow as tears attempt to fit through the open crevice of your act.

“no, don’t—“ you shake your eyes, turning away from him as your arms drop to your sides, “don’t do that. i have accepted my future, i do not need you planting doubts in my mind.”

“what use would planting them do when i can see they’ve already taken root far before i arrived here?” you overlook the step he takes, nor how large his stride is. he only takes one yet it makes all the difference, as he feels infinitely closer than before. just as you feared he would.

“stop it.” you say, masked inside a heavy exhale, yet a plea all the same. “you should be visiting with your sisters, i’m sure they missed you dearly—“

“don’t marry him.” he says, and you finally look at him.

“what?” you ask despite knowing exactly what he said, you want to hear him say it again to make sure it wasn’t in your head.

he shakes his head, taking another step closer, “don’t marry him.”

“you…” he doesn't have to explain what he means, your childish hopes of love that you’d hidden so deep in your conscience do so for him. your heart sings as his eyes flick between your own and then down the bridge of your nose and lower, but your mind refuses to bend as your heart does. you shake your head, shuffling back to salvage whatever distance you can, “no.”

“yes.” he responds in kind, dropping the letter and closing the distance between the two of you to grab your hands. his next words are paired with the act of him flattening your palm against his chest, keeping it there while he grasps the other in his much larger hand, “you can’t marry him.”

“you are being cruel.” you try to pull away, but his grip is firm and you know that if you meet his gaze you won’t be able to fight it anymore.

there’s a sickening silence as his thumb draws shapes on the back of your hand, you can feel his heartbeat. it’s strong, and its pace only feeds your own heart wanton promises of devotion you had only ever been told were too rare to expect in your lifetime, “tell me you do not want me.”

the suddenness of his demand lowers your guard for just long enough for your heart to find the upper ground and force your eyes into his sights, he repeats himself, “tell me you do not want me and i will leave you to marry lord mortimer.” his words are punctuated by the hand not holding yours to his heart grasping the side of your jaw, his thumb moving against your warmed cheek, “tell me and i will never speak to you again, just as you requested in your letter. you will never have to see me and i won’t—“

“i don’t want that.” the words leave your lips without warning, but it’s too late to take them back by the time they reach his ears. you shake your head, “i don’t—i don’t want to marry, i want to paint and read and—“

he listens as your supposed acceptance crumbles beneath his gaze, chest heaving under your palm. “—i want to do all of those things with you, i do. the baron has my parents under his wretched thumb and i cannot bear it, i cannot—“ a sharp inhale rakes your body, a mix of a sob and a desperate but fruitless attempt to regain composure, “i don’t want you to go away, i want you to stay here with me and—“

his lips meet yours with a firmness that sets your heart aflame, and when he pulls away just enough to look at you your heart finally lands the finishing blow in its fight against your mind. your hand lingers on his chest as the one he uses to keep it there moves to mirror its counterpart on the other side of your jaw.

you barely glance down at his lips before they’re on yours again, a welcome experience that you hope you can experience over and over until you’re utterly familiar, but now you're not sure how to reciprocate. the novels you’ve read did little to educate you on the experience, much less prepare you for it to occur with the boy you’d found yourself longing for through the years. 

the gasp you let out when his hand moves from your jaw to your waist to tug you closer is silenced by his lips attaching themselves to yours like he’d spent a lifetime wishing to taste you.

he pulls away, yet he doesn't seem keen on keeping the distance, his nose brushing yours as he promises, “i will speak to your parents—”

the mention of them has your guts turning painfully enough to rip you away from him, nausea hitting you like a bullet through your throat, “i should not have done that.”

“i kissed you—“ his statement does little to quell your sickness, and the wavering grate in your voice as you interrupt him is telling of that. “that changes nothing.” your fingers move to your hair, the pin keeping it in place falling to the floor as you tug, “i am ruined. forget marrying the baron, i cannot marry anyone.”

“was i not clear?” he asks, and when you look at him with frustrated reluctance he continues, “should i gut myself? place my heart in your hands to have you understand how you haunt me?”

“we cannot marry.” you say, bottom lip trembling, “i will not be a consequence of your actions. it is not your duty to marry me when i am the only one ruined.”

riki’s jaw shifts as if your words brought him only fury, “i do not care for duty, i care for you.” 

“you are young, riki. you are not expected to marry for at least—“

“i want to.” he states firmly, “you said you wanted me to stay, so i am staying. i will dance with you at balls. i will send flowers and call on you every morning. i will promenade alongside you for as long as it takes. i…”

he moves towards you, thumbs brushing away the tears under your eyes as his forehead meets yours, “i am yours, do with me what you will.”

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[strnqer]

anthoy's face remained buried deep in your neck, his hands gripping your clothes like a lifeline. the soft tremor of his body against yours sent waves of emotion crashing through you. his sobs had faded to quiet sniffles, but the warmth of his tears soaked into your collarbone, a reminder of the storm raging inside him.

you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, feeling the weight of his grief press against you. in this moment, he was not the forthcoming viscount but a man unraveling, raw, and exposed. you felt the tension in his shoulders, the way he held back, trying to uphold the little facade of strength he could grasp.

you gently swayed as if trying to soothe a child, and he melted into you, his breath hitching as he finally surrendered. His grip tightened on your clothes, fingers fisting the fabric as if it were his only anchor in a vast ocean. you felt the tremors of his body, each one a release of the pain he had held for so long.

as he pressed his face further into your neck, you ran your fingers through his hair, grounding him with your touch. the simple act of holding him felt sacred, a fragile moment that demanded silence. you could feel him exhale slowly, the tension beginning to seep away with each soft breath.

“you're okay now; i've got you,” you whispered softly, your voice barely above a breath. he responded by clutching you tighter, a silent plea for the comfort only you could provide. you felt the heat of his tears against your skin, a torrent of emotions pouring forth as he let go.

in that stillness, you allowed the world to fade away, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings into the shell of his ear. it was a moment of fragile yet profound intimacy, and the two of you remained that way until everything truly felt okay.

[silverhallow]

The Sea Witch’s Curse

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: when Sophie loses her voice at her job as a disney princess at the disney store she has to get creative… not thinking it would completely change her life

warnings: none. Just fluffy nonsense

word count: 2224 words

author's note: I saw a post on Instagram about something like this happening and @sophiebernadotte told me to write it… so I did 😂

The Disney store was not where Benedict had hoped to spend his afternoon but he had promised Hyacinth he would take her out shopping so that she could have whatever she wanted, within reason, if she behaved for him whilst he was looking after her the week before.

At 8 years old she was obsessed with Disney and the princesses and every weekend when she was at the shopping centre, she demanded she be took to the Disney store so she could hang out with the Princesses.

Benedict, so far, had managed to avoid that particular trauma with his youngest sister but this weekend he knew he had no choice, he had made the promise and since it was a toss up between Disney Store shopping or three separate events for Eloise, Francesca and Gregory… he knew which he’d prefer and so he’d bundled his youngest sister in his car and headed off to the shopping centre with no idea how much his life was about to change…

~*~

It was the last thing Sophie Beckett needed today. Waking up with no voice when she had a full day at work and they were already low on staff so she was working a longer shift than normal so she knew there was no way that she was phoning in sick.

Not only was it against her working ethics, it wasn’t fair to her friends there so she’d messaged her manager to tell her what was happening and that she had a plan…

It was a little unconventional, she knew some of the kids in the shop would be a bit confused but she was sure it would work, at least to some degree anyway.

And for the most part people just wanted pictures with her in her Princess uniform anyway so she wouldn’t be required to do much speaking she was sure of it.

She’d made sure her Ipad was fully charged and her Apple Pen was ready and raring to go as she made her way into the packed shopping centre.

Saturday’s were always the busiest and there would always be a steady stream of people with kids coming in and out of the disney store so she knew she was in for a busy day.

Kate, her best friend was also on shift but due to the shortage of staff was on the tills today rather than being dressed up as usual and had laughed at Sophie’s plan but said it was ingenious, Tabitha, who was dressed as Ariel had laughed and agreed to Sophie’s hairbrained plan for the day and agreed to back her up if anyone asked why Cinderella was walking around with a sign that said “Ursula the Sea Witch has gotten confused and stolen my voice today but I am still happy to assist you”

Sophie knew it was a long shot and some of the kids had been very confused as to how Ursula had gotten confused between the two of them but Ariel had explained that she and Cinderella had been trying on each other’s clothes and it must have confused the witch and some of the younger kids bought it.

Sophie did have one creep offer to give her “true love’s kiss” to get her voice back but after a disgusted look and the security guard coming over to protect the princesses from the creep in the shop who had no kids with them, most of it stopped.

That was until one of her regular and favourite customer’s came in.

She hadn’t seen little Hyacinth in a few weeks and the last time she’d come in her older brother had spent a lot of time talking to Kate and so Sophie had shown Hyacinth the new Moana stuff they’d gotten and it had been a fun afternoon with the young girl.

Sophie didn’t know much about the Bridgerton’s but she knew they were a large family and so when she heard Hyacinth’s squeal of happiness at her favourite princess being there and looked up and saw a different older brother with her, Sophie felt her heart do a little flip.

He could have given any Prince Charming a run for his money and some but Sophie didn’t have long to admire the man as Hyacinth had thrown herself into Sophie’s arms and was hugging her tightly.

So tightly, Sophie had lost the grip on her iPad and it had fallen to the floor, “sorry Sophie” Hyacinth exclaimed as she bent down and picked it up and then read what was on the screen and gasped “Ursula has stolen your voice!?” she explained

The man with Hyacinth chuckled “I thought it was Ariel that she usually stole the voice off…”

“Well Sophie’s got such a nice singing voice, even better than Ariel’s that clearly Ursula wanted someone else” Hyacinth said in a matter of fact tone to her brother as she handed Sophie back the iPad, “besides, it doesn’t matter, if she’s lost her voice then we have to find a way to defeat Ursula to get it back!” she said “Ohhh there is Kate! I’ll go ask Kate for idea’s!” Hyacinth said and ran off before Benedict or Sophie could say anything.

“Sophie huh? I thought you were Cinderella?” the handsome man asked with a brow raised and a lopsided smirk on his face

Sophie grabbed her pen and scribbled Hyacinth’s been in that often she’s seen me on non-princess days so refuses to call me Cinderella anymore, same with why she calls Kate, Kate and not her princess

“Well that make sense… that and Anthony is now dating Kate” he said

True. but she was calling Kate her name long before then.

He smirked and shrugged “she is very strong willed, she’ll have a thousand ideas as to how to get your voice back when she comes back”

I don’t doubt it but some rest and not speaking will do it for me I am sure. I’ve not seen you here with Hyacinth before but clearly you’re a brother… so you must be Benedict? I’m assuming.

Benedict blinked, most women, or people just saw him as another Bridgerton and rarely did someone who had never met him before even know his name

“How… did you know?”

Sophie beamed and wrote Hyacinth told me she had four brothers, Anthony i’ve met, she told me that Benni was taller than Anthony, and Gregory is 10… and i’m sure I saw Colin in here a few weeks ago talking to Kate and trying to make her see sense about Anthony and he was definitely shorter so you have to be Benni… and Kate told me it’s Benedict not Benni…

Benedict laughed “yes, Benedict, or Ben… it’s nice to meet you Sophie, Hyacinth doesn’t shut up about you or Kate or the rest of the princess to be honest…”

Well she’s a sweet kid

“Sweet isn’t how we’d word it…”

Strongwilled?

Benedict laughed “that’s kinder than pain in the arse but yes, she’s got the entire family wrapped around her finger”

It must be nice. Being close to your family

“It is maddening but it is nice…” he smiled at her, wondering why he felt so comfortable around her and found her so easy to talk to.

Hyacinth had always said that Sophie was a kind hearted girl, that she was training to be a Vet, that she was very pretty but Benedict was blown away by her green eyes, the smile on her face and he’d not heard her talk but he could almost imagine her melodious laugh and tone when he read her words.

There was a magical quality about her and it was drawing him in.

They spent half an hour talking, or he was talking and Sophie was writing, just chatting about his family, he’d asked about her course and how it was going, whilst Hyacinth was talking to Kate and then talking to Ariel and a few of the other princesses, her eyes kept flicking over to the keep and eye on Benedict and Sophie and he missed the scheming look in his sister’s eyes when Kate had come back and whispered in her ear a few seconds later Hyacinth came running over “I know how to fix it!”

Benedict and Sophie looked towards the young girl with their brows raised and looking amused “and how is that Hyacinth?”

“Kate said it’s the same with Ariel, she has to be kissed by her Prince Charming!”

That may be the case Hyacinth but I don’t have a Prince Charming

“I know! Kate told me! But Benni could be him!” Hyacinth said without a care in the world, causing Benedict to splutter and Sophie to go bright red.

“I’m not Prince Charming Hy, you know that…”

“But you could be!” Hyacinth said, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Hyacinth, you can’t just kiss people you’ve just met and not when they’re at work…” Benedict said trying to defuse the situation as he felt his own cheeks growing red

“But you could take her out and then kiss her! Kate said you were checking Sophie out and flirting with her! So you could!”

“Hyacinth…” Benedict whined as both Sophie and Benedict shot Kate a look who was just standing behind the till laughing away to herself as she served a customer and clearly enjoying the look on her friends face.

Hyacinth, it is nice of you to try and help me out but I am sure i’ll be fine in a few days, and besides I am sure Benedict wasn’t flirting with me.

“He was flirting with you!”

Benedict went bright red at being called out by his littlest sister.

“Hyacinth, look, just… here… here’s £30, go find a toy and buy it. Please…”

“But…”

“Look, just let us talk please… if you do this we’ll go for a mcdonalds and then an Gunthers on the way home…”

Hyacinth looked at the money and then between Benedict and Sophie and grabbed the money and ran off into the toys looking for something to buy and Benedict turned to Sophie, both of whom were bright red and a little mortified

“Sorry about her…”

It’s fine. She’s not the first one to try and find me Prince Charming today. It’s okay you can just… I don’t know tell her you’re not interested or whatever or say we’re going out and just lie?

“And what if I am interested in taking you out? And was actually flirting… and clearly doing a bad job if you think i’m not interested”

Sophie spluttered, the first real noise to come out of her mouth all day; you’re interested?

“Of course I am. You’re beautiful, you’re funny, I see why Hyacinth loves you so much, so what about it? Give it a few days for your voice to come back and i’ll take you out to dinner? If… if you want?” he said suddenly wondering if perhaps he’d misread the signs

Sophie nodded, i’d like that… if you give me your number i’ll message you when i’m off work and we can text whilst my voice heals then we can go out.

“Really?” he asked excitedly

Sophie nodded with a shy smile.

Benedict stuck his hand in his wallet and grabbed a business card out and with the actual pen Sophie had on her lanyard he scribbled another number down “this is my personal one, this is my work one… and my email just… just incase” he grinned sheepishly, realising how uncool it was to go over the top but Sophie just grinned and took the card and slipped it into the top of her costume and out of sight and Benedict tried not to look as it disappeared into her bra and he went more red than he already was

I’ll send you all mine later

“Thanks”

“BENNIIIIIII” came a voice that was skipping back with a huge Stitch stuffed toy and an innocent smile on her face “can I have this?”

“How much is it?”

“£55…”

Benedict sighed, it was more than he wanted to spend and he knew Anthony would kill him but considering Hyacinth in her bulldozer way had maybe just helped him get a date with the most beautiful woman he’d ever met in his life he nodded “fine… but you have to chose Gunthers or McDonalds we’re not doing both…”

Hyacinth squeaked “thank you”

“Come on, we’ll go pay, it was nice to meet you Sophie and I look forward to hearing from you later…” he grinned at her and Sophie beamed

It was lovely to meet you too. See you later Hyacinth…

“Bye Sophie!” Hyacinth said waving and Sophie watched as the brother and sister made their way to the till and Benedict’s clearly sheepish interaction with Kate and Kate looking over at Sophie with a smirk on her face, which Sophie returned with a glare, and mouthed “i’m going to kill you”

Though she knew it was just payback considering she’d done the same thing not a month earlier when Anthony had been in the store but as Benedict left with a bright smile back at Sophie, she couldn’t help but save his number into her phone as Prince Charming…

And when he proposed to her, 18 months later…he did so dressed as Prince Charming from Cinderella…

[bridgertonbabe]

I was thinking for this AU rather than the princes being of their appearances from the show, they'd be far more historically accurate in being middle-aged men.

"What should Miss Sharma even see in the prince?" Anthony raged as he angrily paced about the Bridgerton drawing room. "And it's not as though Lady Sophia and Penelope's princes fare any better!"

"I believe the appeal is in their titles." Eloise airily remarked.

"So what if they're princes?" Benedict spat from where he lounged on the settee. "They're old, balding, and pot-bellied!"

"Benedict Bridgerton!" Violet admonished. "Speaking so offensively of the princes would get you convicted of treason!"

"Pft! Don't be so ridiculous, mother!" Colin snorted while aggressively shoving a biscuit into his mouth. "Ben can hardly be tried for merely stating the truth. And besides, how would you feel if some decrepit old men began courting your daughters?" he asked and gestured towards his three youngest sisters.

"Oh, over my dead body!" Anthony interjected and stormed over, a maddening glint in his eye just at the thought of some repulsive middle-aged man making Hyacinth his child-bride, despite the question being addressed to his mother. "I don't care if they're a prince or not, I'd shoot them dead before they came anywhere near any one of them!" he declared with a protective hand on his youngest sister's shoulder, as if the hypothetical unseemly middle-aged man in question was lurking outside and about to storm into the room.

"See, that's more likely to get him tried for treason than what I said." Benedict pointed out.

"Whomever any of my daughters should fall in love with, I would support them whole-heartedly." Violet replied to Colin's question as diplomatically as she could.

"Really?!" Colin spluttered. "Even if your son-in-law was older than you?! You'd still give them your blessing?!"

"For the record, speaking on behalf of myself and my sisters; none of us are remotely interested in marrying gentlemen who are so much older than us." Francesca stated while idly continuing her embroidery.

"I should think so." Anthony said in a clipped tone.

"And with Lady Sophia, Miss Sharma, and Penelope being of similar age, I'd expect they'd find suitors in the form of middle-aged men equally as unappealing - so why can't the princes find someone their own age to court instead?" Benedict complained.

"Because the whole point of the current succession crisis is for the princes to find brides who are still capable of bearing children." Violet wearily explained, knowing her previous explanations of this exact reason had gone unheard by her sons.

"And that makes it all the more worse!" Colin exclaimed. "They're only interested in them to produce heirs for the throne; they don't care about the ladies as individuals!"

"Exactly!" Anthony chimed in. "The Duke of Clarence already has a dozen children with his mistress; clearly women are nothing more than objects to them!"

"Oh, look at that. Miss Siena Russo is back in town for a musicale." Violet mentioned as she read the newspaper before throwing a pointed look at her eldest, who glared back at her and returned to angrily pacing the room.

"And I don't suppose the Duke of Kent has even considered that Lady Sophia would find his bald spot grotesque." Benedict opined.

"You think you won't lose your hair one day?" Violet hummed, instantly provoking a pout from her second son as he brought a hand through his own hair to check if it was still as thick as it used to be.

"What gets me is that they won't remotely care what happens should any of the ladies be foolish enough to accept a proposal! They would never take into account how trapped Penelope would feel as a royal wife confined to a castle!"

"Actually most ladies who marry into royalty have the privilege of leading independent lives with the advantage of living in lifelong luxury." Violet noted. "So I'm sure the three ladies would be more than taken care of if they so choose to join the royal ranks."

"I cannot believe this!" Anthony snapped as he stormed back over to where his mother sat. "How can you be so indifferent to these courtships?"

"Yeah! How come you don't seem to care about Miss Sharma, Lady Sophia or Penelope?" Colin furiously asked.

"How could you even support them being courted by those podgy princes?!" Benedict spluttered.

"Well I don't see why you three are so aggrieved with your own mother when it has no bearing on my life!" Violet raged back. "And if it bothers you dunderheads so much, then maybe you shouldn't have been such fatwits and allowed the women you're clearly in love with to be courted by the princes in the first place!"

And for the first time since the tea service had been brought in, the room feel silent as Anthony, Benedict, and Colin stewed in the humbling of their mother's comeback.

could you imagine an AU where Charlotte was desperate for an heir and looked at Kate, Sophie, and Penelope and a lightbulb pinged on her head. “OHHHHH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYS!!!!!!”

It would be a lot of fun to have an AU where in; Anthony and Kate remain butting heads with one another (while pretending as if there's no sexual tension between them); Sophie is the legitimate daughter of the earl and out in society but not taking the bohemic Benedict seriously as a suitor; and Penelope has a glow up afforded to her thanks to her Whistledown earnings while giving Colin the cold shoulder after overhearing him declaring he would never dream of courting her.

Queen Charlotte meanwhile attends the Danbury ball, the first of the season, and shrewdly surveys the room as she hunts for potential wives to settle her sons down and produce legitimate heirs. Sure, her courtiers had made recommendations for particular ladies of the Ton but Charlotte wanted to scope the Marriage Mart herself to see which eligible ladies she personally deemed worthy of becoming dutiful princesses and producing potential heirs for the crown. A lot of the ladies in the room were doing the Most™ to grab her attention and be granted her approval; but the three ladies who happened to catch her eye were gathered by the edge of the room and enraptured in bright and enthused conversation with one another. The queen swans over to them, surprising them by her approaching and engaging with them. She speaks with each of them in turn, and then finds herself encouraging them while indulging herself in sharing their thoughts about art, music, hobbies and interests, as well as their thoughts about certain members of the Ton (she does enjoy companions she can have a good gossip with). After a good twenty minutes of getting to know them the queen declares she is thoroughly impressed by Miss Kate Sharma, Lady Sophia Gunningworth, and Miss Penelope Featherington; and she invites them for tea at the palace the following day. The trio, while taken aback, accept the invitation - after all, who declines an invitation from the queen herself?

The three ladies were pleasantly naive in thinking that tea with the queen was nothing more than that - but as soon as three of the princes join them, they soon recognise the smirk on Queen Charlotte's face - the smirk of a meddling matchmaking mama. And so then, much to Kate, Sophie, and Penelope's shock and disbelief, they find themselves being courted by the princes. The three ladies truly don't know what to make of it and are genuinely worried that regardless of how they feel they might not have any choice in the matter if the queen demands they wed her sons for the good of the crown and country.

Meanwhile it doesn't take very long for word to travel to Bridgerton House and the Bridgerton brothers are thunderstruck to learn that Kate, Sophie, and Penelope are all being courted by princes. Finally all three buck up their ideas as they realise how ardently they love their respective lady and they try to figure out a way in which they can win their sweethearts over from actual princes.

(Plus a bonus scene of them going to the Duke of Hastings for advice, seeing as Daphne picked him over a prince. Simon's internal monologue goes something like, "let's not bother mentioning that their sister was thinking of me while touching herself so I had the upper hand right from the jump".)