#Royal Violet Royale Au

[keeper-of-the-dimension]

Sumire Yoshizawa

“The trainer with an uncertain path! Her sister once ran a grass-type gym in their city, but she's been in a coma for months. She's not sure how to move forward. Fortunately for her, mimikyu found her at her lowest and could help her choose a future....” - @corvus-ace

[veganpepperoni]

request from @inkangeliguess

Wordgirl design by @axelberry

More friendship games au 👀 - reference under cut!

AUGRRHHHHHH

[monkeyhazard]

P5 x Pokemon AU but Goro is Rika from the elite four!

[reverseenchancia]

Come on, please!

[grace-williams-xo]

A franchela centric modern royals smau… who do I make the monarch [note: the monarch has to impose some rules and order on the family that do not always go down well]

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

Closed Group Starter: The Idiots (yeah)

Sylvia’s the one closest to the door at the knock, going over and opening up. She has a pen and a pad of sticky notes in her hand and safety pins sticking out of a pocket, a sticky note safety pinned to her shirt that says “Sylvia Dinkley” on it, explaining of it. “Joe said he’s color-coding his doubles that have arrived. I didn’t have that, so I just started making sticky notes. Welcome to the shitshow. Damn, I’m glad to see yo-- NO!” She says the last part as she looks back in the door, pointing to the prince who’d shifted to get up. “You and that corner are now besties.”

“This is bullshit,” he whines, pouting and crossing his arms.

“This is saving my sanity,” she answers, pulling back to let Violet and Daniel in.

Daniel raises an eyebrow as they walk in, chuckling softly. “Having fun yet?”

“You have no idea,” Laurian remarks dryly from where he’s sitting, getting up to greet Violet.

@storystartsanew​

[sparklecryptid]

In the Feanor!Ace 'verse, it constantly amuses me to think of the children of Finwe being enthusiastically adopted by the Lucis Caelums.

Arafinwë: *very amused by the fact Regis and Noctis and Ardyn have just decided that Arafinwë and the rest of Finwë’s children are Theirs Now simply because they mean something to Ace* it’s as if they mean to horde us

Írimë: *dryly* one would think they’re dragons.

Ace: *undignified snort*

Findis: what’s so funny?

Ace: The dragon comment

Nolofinwë: ?

Ace: *attempting to hide a grin* it’s not too far off, I mean, the magic does come with a few side effects.

Arafinwë: *remembering the dragons in the war of wrath* excuse me?

Ace: *shrugs* everything comes with a price. Sometimes magic comes with a bunch of dragon related instincts. It’s fine.

The others: what?

Ace: it’s not like I have scales!

Ace: *adding because he’s a little shit* most of the time

[bridgertonbabe]

in honor of the crown s5 premiere can we get a fluffy royals benophie drabble 👉👈

It had been a quiet morning when Benedict woke up that day, what with his three sons having spent the night at a sleepover with their cousins at Aubrey Palace instead of experiencing their usual morning routine of piling into their parents' bed for cuddles. He got to enjoy more of a lie-in than normal until he stirred awake, realising his wife was absent from the bed and getting up to go in search of her. He found her pottering around the kitchen adding the finishing touches to a breakfast tray - a tray he knew she had made just for him instead of to share.

"Soph." he tsked as he stood in the doorway with his arms folded and caught her attention. "You shouldn't be on your feet. And especially not for the intents and purposes of treating me to breakfast in bed."

"Who says I can't treat my own husband?" Sophie retorted - though Benedict couldn't help but notice the slight twinge to her voice, nor the wince she tried to hide by quickly averting her face away from him.

"Soph?" he called out and approached her carefully, his eye catching the way one of her hands gripped onto the countertop in front of her. "Are you okay?"

"Of course!" she replied immediately and looked to him once more. "Why wouldn't I be?" she challenged him - but Benedict could recognise the stubborn edge to her voice and the flash of indignation in her eyes; he knew his wife well enough by now to know when she was lying through her teeth.

"Soph." he said her name slowly and closed the gap between them until they were chest to chest - well, they would be if it wasn't for the massive bump between them. "Are you in labour?"

She stared at him long and hard, as if trying to will away the fact of the matter just to prove him wrong.

"No." she answered in what he was sure she had hoped to be a confident manner, but instead her denial came out in a squeak and the hand that wasn't turning white just from gripping the countertop suddenly clutched her stomach.

"God dammit, Soph!" he exclaimed. "You're literally in active labour and you still decided to make me breakfast?!"

"I was trying to be thoughtful!" she shouted back in annoyance.

"Really? Or were you just trying to distract yourself from the fact that you're having contractions and about to give birth for the fourth time?"

An aggrieved pout wobbled on Sophie's lips and she shot him a peeved expression for calling her out.

"Perhaps." she said through gritted teeth before a groan escaped her and she doubled over.

Immediately Benedict called for assistance before guiding his wife back to their bedroom. The midwife arrived within twenty minutes but by that time Sophie's contractions had already narrowed significantly and they were informed that there was no time to make it to the hospital - their baby was eager to make their debut into the world.

Benedict was in a state of awe when one hour later he found himself cradling the newborn in his arms. At long last they had a baby girl, their little princess, Sophie's miniature, and Benedict had never been so happy. He had fallen in love with Sophie from the very first moment they had met and he had fallen more and more in love with her ever since; when she had reciprocated his love, when she had accepted his proposal, when she had become his wife, when she had blessed them with Charlie, then Alex, then William, and now their precious baby girl; he didn't think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved Sophie.

He couldn't bear to take his eyes off of their little princess. Already he knew she would take after his wife. She looked so different from her brothers when they were first born; all three of them already flaunting wisps of dark hair, whereas their baby daughter's little tufts were sandy in colour and he could definitely make out the most minuscule of curls matted against her head. He also could have sworn she was the smallest of their babies with how perfectly she was nestled in the crook of his arm, even though the delivery team had informed them she was in fact their heaviest baby.

At some point he was informed that the press were waiting in the garden of My Cottage for the press conference Benedict always gave to announce the arrival of a new baby, and though he said he'd be down shortly, he couldn't find it in him to stop gazing down at the precious bundle in his arms.

"Benedict Bridgerton!" Mrs Crabtree snapped at him in as terse yet soft a manner as she possibly could so as to not awaken the sleeping infant.

Sophie had to suppress a giggle at the familiarity at which their head of staff addressed her husband, treating Benedict like he was her own son instead of her employer. Three times now he had told Mrs Crabtree he would come down to the garden before instantly forgetting as he lost himself in gazing adoringly at their little girl.

"Put that baby down and go outside to speak to the press or so help me god!" Mrs Crabtree hissed.

Sophie watched as her husband reluctantly got to his feet, his eyes remaining transfixed on their daughter for as long as he still could, trying to savour the image of her before he left her for all of the ten minutes it would take to hold the conference outside.

"Don't think I won't man-handle her out of your arms." Mrs Crabtree warned him.

In defeat, Benedict pressed a kiss to their daughter's head before he went to pass her over to her mother.

"Why don't you take her with you?"

Both Benedict and Mrs Crabtree's heads snapped in Sophie's direction in reaction to her out-of-the-blue suggestion.

"What?" they chorused, Mrs Crabtree with a tone of incredulity, Benedict with one of amazement.

"Well since it seems to pain you to even be parted from her." Sophie shrugged.

"But... but I thought you didn't want to show them off when they're all of a few hours old?" Benedict said, referring to how their boys had only been presented to the public several days after they were born in order for Sophie to recover.

"I didn't want to do a photo call when I'd only just given birth." she reminded him. "But I have no problem with you showing her off if you wanted to."

Benedict looked from his wife to their head of staff, seeing if she would give him permission (again, like she was his mother rather than his employee).

"I mean, if you wanted to," Mrs Crabtree shrugged.

She was cut off by Benedict suddenly pressing a joyful kiss to her cheek before he turned to his wife and kissed her firmly on the lips, and Sophie couldn't help but grin into the kiss as she felt her husband's lips smiling against hers.

"Are you sure?" he checked.

"Go." she waved him off. "I'll get to squeeze in a nap before your mother pops round with the boys."

Benedict didn't need telling twice, kissing her once more before marching off with their daughter in tow.

The gathered press outside couldn't quite believe it when Prince Benedict appeared with a swaddled baby in his arms, breaking the tradition of being introduced to one of his newborns quite so early. Immediately the reason for his eagerness to show off this new baby became apparent when he announced his wife had safely given birth to their daughter only a few short hours before.

He was every inch the proud and giddy father, regularly getting distracted by staring lovingly at his new daughter, and at one point he cut off a photographer's question when the little infant yawned for the very first time.

"Did you get that?" he asked eagerly to a cameraman who had filmed the little princess's tiny yawn.

It ended up being the longest press conference he had ever given due to how besotted he was with his baby girl and how often he lost all attention for anything else but her. Eventually he called it a day once a chilly October breeze stirred through the garden. He could have sworn his little girl scrunched up within her swaddling and not wanting her to feel even the slightest bit cold, he bade farewell to the press and quickly returned indoors.

When he got back to their bedroom, he opened his mouth to inform his wife of how the press conference went when she beat him to it.

"I saw the yawn." she smiled at him fondly.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Battle Royal! The cursed hell panther of black flames VS The blue dragon of pride||

Hi once more everyone, time for another drabble. This one was a sudden idea but it does involve the cursed vixens and the other fractions again. However, this is due to a battle royal between two fraction leaders. But lets see who is it.

||Drabble summary||

The two fractions in New York was having a sparring practice battle. However, the other teams got out of the way seeing two leaders battling it out. You heard me, the big fight between the cursed hell panther and the blue dragon of pride! Ink VS Jinx! Who will win? Read to find out!

||Warning||

~Two dangerously strong fraction leaders battle all out

~Blood will be present and seen in this drabble

~broken bones will be seen in drabble.

||Guests in Drabble||

Van ink along with her fraction belongs to @demon-blood-youths

Jinx along with her fraction mentioned belong to me.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble as others have this warning. But like I state before, this is written for fun. So I hope you like it and my friend too. Enjoy))

Today was training day!

That's right, it was sparring day between the DBT (Demon Blood Tears) VS. TCV (The Cursed Vixens). Right now, both fractions were fighting against one another to get stronger and stronger just like the others that would sometimes join them. Even seeing the area they picked for it was already seen with a lot of destruction and explosions. However, in one area, the two fraction leaders were looking at one another while smiling.

Van Ink the Dragon was holding her great sword while her close friend/sister Jinx violet was talking when they were doing a meet up together.

"Hmmm? What was that Ink?" she asked, spinning her flaming black dagger knives as she was about to have their daily training battle. However, Ink wanted to change it this time.

"Yeah! I know your powerful and deadly strong Jinx so why not?! I wanna see just how dangerous powerful you are!" She's always been waiting for the day to ask the leader of the cursed vixens to battle her one on one. Though, with everything going on, they couldn't.

But today; today she can ask! Jinx tilts her head to think but Ink was smiling wondering what she'll say. "Hmmmmm.."

"I'll even be sure we just fight like a one-on-one type of thing. The others can watch!" she said happy.

"Huh, I had no idea you wanted to spar with me one on one, Ink. :3 Though, that does sound really really fun!!!"

"I know right!? We can go all out and just have fun! I wanna see just how dangerous the cursed hell panther vixen is! So what do you say!?"

"Hmmmmmm....."

"Come on Jinx! I wanna challenge you, one on one!!! Please!!!!!" she had her hands clapped together smiling as she always did to Jinx. The other was looking to her friend seeing she was silly but Ink was Ink. With a smile, she giggled.

"Oh why the hell not? Sure! We can have a spar together Ink!" she said that Ink cheers.

"YES!"

"Hold on, if we do fight one on one, we might need to tell our team to go on the side lines somewhere to watch. We don't need them getting caught in the crossfire ya know?" she said but knowing them, Melinda can keep a barrier with Ping to see from a safe distance. Second, they will be on a roof top building so they were out of harms way.

"That's fine with me! Lets go ahead and tell our teams and meet up again in a minute." she said but Jinx nods to smile.

"Alright! See you in a second!" she said happily and goes to her fraction as Ink goes to hers. Seems the leaders were seriously going to do it. Though, Ink was giggling all excited finally having a sparing fight with her close friend/sister Jinx. It was going to be good but wild at the same time.

~~Later~~

"Wait, Ink wants us to do what? Is that why were up here?" Navarro looks to Shdwkyz who was explaining everything to his fraction and Vivi doing the same with hers.

"The two of them wish to battle one on one? When did they-"

"They just spoken about this but it seems Ink has been thinking about having this match with her for a long time....." Vivi said simply with the others looking at one another then looks to the two.

"Though, I'm a bit worried. You guys know how strong Ink is.." Fosh said.

"And you all know how strong Jinx is.." Mouse adds in while the two had drones flying around to catch all this for them to watch later or at least them both.

"Well, at least they will be having fun I guess.." Melinda said while having a barrier with Ping helping to keep them safe from anything. For now, the two groups watch seeing the leaders down below stretching but was ready.

Ink was holding her great sword; Wyvern while Jinx was stretching and cracking her knuckles. "Alright, our fractions are at a safe distance. So we can have our battle Ink!" she said.

"I know! This is going to be fun! Though, just don't hold back on me Jinx alright? I want you to go all out on me and I'll do the same!" Ink was pumped up, grinning all excited for this battle. Jinx can tell she was but smiled to nod.

"You got it! Don't hold back Ink! We gotta go all out here." she said as the fractions saw their leaders in their fighting stances now as Ink felt her greatsword glowing blue. Jinx got in a fighting stance but she held her hands to the side, showing some black flames appearing but she reaches into the flames to show some flame made blades as she twirls them. The two leaders look at one another as everything was silent.

Van Ink Vs. Jinx Violent, Dragon of pride against the cursed hell panther of black flames.

3. 2. 1.

GO!

Both Jinx and Ink suddenly dashes towards one another with their own power as Ink swings Wyvern at Jinx only for her to block it as the two did a blade struggle. The two look at one another before pushing each back as the road cracks up among impact. The fractions watches from the roof seeing their leaders in that struggle before Jinx kicks Ink back hard to rush towards her. She begins swinging her flamed blades at Ink, seeing the other dodging and blocking trying to swing back. Their blades clashes over and over, still trying to get through but they each got blocked or deflected. As Jinx was about to bring her blades down at Ink, she held up her greatsword to block it and shoves her back hard.

Jinx gets pushed back rolling onto the street but Ink rushes towards her quickly and swings, sending a wave of blue flames towards her. Right away, Jinx rolls out the way to see the flame hit a car making it explode. The fractions gasped seeing that but watches Jinx get up quickly and swings her own blades to send black flames towards Ink.

"!?" She quickly swings sending out more blue flames back as the two attacks clashes causing a huge explosion! The DBT and CV shield their eyes from the flash while Melinda and Ping keeps the barrier up. Geez, they were seriously strong if they could make a explosion like that!

Ink saw the flames burning in front of her but she got on the defensive seeing something dash through as she begins dodging the movements of Jinx's swords. She was striking her or trying to while Ink did the same. Both girls were moving very fast that the teams couldn't keep up.

"Their going too fast! I can't keep up with them!" Navarro shouted.

"Same here! Damn it!" Echo grumbles but the bombers felt another quake to see their leaders going even faster. Their looking at one another going all out in their fight before hitting one another back hard. Jinx skids back while Ink did the same. Both girls were panting looking down but Jinx's flame blades slowly disappear as she was panting.

However, the girls look to see a smile on Jinx's face. That made them tense. Uh oh. Ink didn't move but she looks up to see that too.

"Wow, you really are good Ink...but come on, lets really go wild here. I wanna see just how powerful you really are!" She giggled to get on her hands and crouch down. That's when a sudden burst of black flames surrounds Jinx's body and the area. The ground cracks up due to the intense heat seeing familiar two flamed panther tails with the tips having some flames. Flamed claws were seen near her talon nails while having her panther ears. She shows her sharp canine teeth only to swish the tails left and right. "Come on Ink! Lets go wild!" she giggled.

Ink said nothing seeing her like that but this made her only grin hiding the upper part of her face. Her team saw that knowing the same thrill-seeker expression was back. "Alright then...lets go wild then!! Lets give it our all, Jinx!" she laughed sending out a wave of her power as both clashes against each other. It made the air heavy and making the area shake.

Hearing this, Jinx laughed loving it. "THEN LETS GO!" right away, she dashes forward leaving a hole in the street as she kicks Ink hard in the stomach sending her flying into a building as it shows a hole in the wall. Ink coughs from that before Jinx kicks her out being quick. She dashes towards her like a panther wound, hitting her left right up down down right. It was crazy! She was hitting her all over the place while leaving a black flame trail behind her.

As Ink was free falling, she quickly slams the flat part of her blade at Jinx to hit her through a building as well as she crashes through. Ink spits blood from her mouth but rushes over to fight. When entering the hole, she hits Jinx down through the ground of the building sending her a few floors down. Jinx smashes into a table on the first floor to feel her shirt grabbed and thrown into something breaking it.

She winces from the crash but flips back to her feet now trying to slash at her with flame like claws baring her sharp teeth looking feral as Ink bears her own sharp teeth with a grin. Their eyes glowing as they were fighting like wild animals.

"You know if this keeps up, they are going to total this area.." Vivi sighed seeing this with Shdwkyz agreeing.

"True. But, you can't tell them anything knowing how they are."

"ARE YOU BOTH SERIOUS! What if they destroy the whole block!?" Navarro and Echo shouted at the two as the snakes shrugs.

"I mean, think this is Jinx and Ink were talking about. You guys really think we can stop them if their like that!" Rust said pointing at the building.

"............."

"He's got a point.." Breezy said with a sweatdrop laughing nervously when hearing the windows breaking from the building.

Both fractions sweat drop seeing the smoke and hearing the fighting from in the building. They had no idea Ink and Jinx fights that way but they were always looking to go crazy so that explains it.

"You do know Mr. Henderson will know about this right?" Hellmare said to the others but they sighed to nod. That's when they felt another tremor and looks seeing Ink get kicked out the building as Jinx rushes out with the building coming crashing down leaving some smoke and debris in the air.

"Wow; go Ink!! You got it!" Gerald said cheering her on.

'G..go Jinx! You can d..do it!' Ping cheers in her mind.

Jinx rushes towards Ink once more now jumping to attack her own Ink quickly changes her face into the dragon demonic form to use a smoke screen. "!?" She stops seeing the smoke surrounding the area but was looking around swaying her two tails. Suddenly, a blue flame ball came rushing towards her as she dodges and runs. Ink was blowing flames out at Jinx while sending fireballs to her as they explode on contact. Jinx was quick dodging but she jumps up to bounce from building to building to spin with her tails.

They send black flames back clashing with the fireballs as well. So it was like a light show going on right now seeing the two going crazy. Ink kept sending more and more at Jinx who did the same before she keeps moving from building to building before jumping to flip. Ink looks seeing Jinx falling as she spins but her eyes widen seeing a black flamed whip now hitting Ink. She held Wyvern up to block and deflect the flame whips. However, the ones that miss scorches the street that it even made it bubble to steam. Just how hot was her flame!?

"Wow, did you see that!?" Mouse said worried while Fosh nods.

"I did. I wasn't expecting Jinx's flames to do that! How hot are her flames anything!?" he said.

"We don't know..but if it's hot enough to do that....that's something.." Vivi said watching with. Seeing the area now getting destroyed more that the two hits each other again back even harder. Ink crash lands on her feet creating a crater while Jinx did the same. Both Jinx and Ink looks at one another before sending a flame out at one another but the fractions saw Ink's blue flames form into a dragon and Jinx's black flames into a panther.

Wait..

"WHEN WERE THEY ABLE TO DO THAT!?" The fractions said in shock seeing this as the two flame beings clashed and crashes against each other. The flame panther swiping at the dragon who was doing the same. Their summoners Ink and Jinx were busy fighting they were trying to win but they were having fun so that was fine. They did see some attacks land with Jinx slashing at Ink's jacket and shirt, to Ink cutting into Jinx's back and side. These two were bleeding but didn't back down.

Ink growling while Jinx was hissing still smiling while their eyes glowed to dash and fight once more. Everyone was speechless seeing this as the area was getting destroyed but the building they were on was cracking that Melinda noticed.

"Uhhhh Melinda? I think we need to move.." Echo said as she quickly forms a spear around everyone to float up as the building they were just on gets smashed by the blue flame dragon Ink summoned out. Now they were hovering in the air thanks to Melinda seeing the battle from above!

"This is going to go on for a while..isn't it?" Jaron said as everyone slowly looks down seeing the fight.

".....Yeahhhhhhh...."

~~~~Timeskip: a few hours later~~~~

The whole block was destroyed with nothing but black and blue flames burning what was close. Though, they were lucky this area was abandoned but their was some damage in areas. The two have been battling for a while now but they saw Ink and Jinx panting. They were bleeding from injuries they got and a few stab wounds. Even so, they still were trying to go at it!

Jinx dashes towards Ink again who did the same roaring out about to attack. The fractions saw this thinking who was going to win only to see both Jinx and Ink crash into one another a bit too hard and got knocked out. Ink's sword falls while they were laying there.

"...Uhhh.." Fosh and Mouse saw that.

"What happened?" Navarro asked seeing that.

"I think they passed out.." Echo answered as Melinda lowers the spear to the ground near their knocked out leaders. They saw that Ink was a mess while Jinx is the same. They were indeed knocked out but it seems this was a draw.

"That was..."

"Scary. Did you guys get all that?" Maggie asked the hackers seeing them nod slowly nervous. Yeah, they got all that already. Even when the two used their special moves against one another. "I know or get the feeling they will wanna know who won but this is a draw.." she sighed as Melinda lowers the barrier. The cursed vixens goes to their leader and the DBT goes to their leader. Ink and Jinx were still out but they were resting while looking really tired.

However, they saw their leaders groan to wake up. Ink and Jinx was awake but winces from moving.

"Owwwwww..."

"Ugghhhhh.."

"Easy now.." Vivi said to Jinx.

"She's right. You two went crazy in your battle.." Shdwkyz said to Ink. The two open their eyes but blinks to remember.

"Oh yeah...though wait! Who won!?" Ink asked as the snakes sweatdrops.

"Neither. You both tied." Shdwkyz said.

"Wait, tied? We tied!?" Ink said as Jinx tilts her head.

"Awwww, I was not expecting to tie.." she said.

"That's because you both dashed at one another and crashed into one another knocking yourselves out." Rust said as Breezy agrees.

"Huh.." Ink and Jinx blinks to think but looks around seeing the result of their fight. Wow; it was a lot of damage to say the least.

"Uhhhh did we both do all this?" they asked.

"...Yes." Both fractions said as Ink and Jinx sweat drop to laugh nervously.

"Sorry guys. I did say we shouldn't hold back and we didn't! But it was so much fun! Ink was so powerful and stuff. She could have killed me!"

"Same to you too Jinx! You were so strong and cool! You would have killed me to!"

The fractions sweat drop seeing Ink and Jinx talking happily like they didn't destroy a whole block. "Though, too bad it ended in a draw. Hey Ink! Lets battle again! We can decide a winner that way!" she said.

"OH YOUR ON!" Ink laughed as the two was about to stand but gets bonked on the head hard by Vivi and Shdwkyz. "OW!!"

"You two are so dumb.." Vivi and Shdwkyz said at the same time but grabs their own leader's shirts to start dragging them away.

"HEY SHDWKYZ!! LET GO! I WANNA BATTLE JINX AGAIN! WE HAVE TO DECIDE A WINNER!!" She said kickcing and swinging her arms and feet.

"NO! YOU TWO ALREADY HAD A BATTLE TODAY! YOU NEED YOUR REST!" the phantom said.

"YEAH, NO FAIR VIVI! LET GO!!!" Jinx said doing the same.

"NO, WE ARE GOING HOME AND TREATING YOUR INJURIES!!"

"NOOOOOO!!!!!" The leaders wanted to fight again but the teammates were speechless.

"O.O;"

Yeah, they followed but said nothing. Later that night, both Jinx and Ink were treated and would heal after a while. Though, as Hellmare said, they got a call from a shocked Mr. Henderson demanding what they did. Well, after they got the explaining, he just did a face palm.

'Why is it every time something goes on it's Ink and her team? Now she's got Jinx doing the same..' Mr. Henderson thought looking at tonight's damage bill. That was going to take a bit to fix.

But at least the leaders had fun tonight right?

[ghostshadow-k-r]

"Please,senpai.Let me stay,this is my only hope.I beg you......"

Red Brocade,a talented earth pony gymnast in the Presend High School.She was always cheerful,cute and sometimes she'll become clumsy.She was perfect,perfect enough to forget who she really is.

Actually,she was Red Cloud,the sister of the Red Brocade.She was always jealous about her sister winning those rewards and trophies at the stage,and she,Red Cloud shall stay under the stage,watching her shining above it,forever.Of course,she still loves her sister very much,she hid it,and hoping it would never reappear again.

Until one day,watching Red Brocade winning another award again,she remembered her jealousy,she could never step out of her sister's shadow.She stood at the road,which is a very dangerous action.Losting in her mind that was full with jealousy and the dark desire that hopes her sister could die or she could replace her.

But when it really happened,she fallen into the sea that was build from her regret and those sorrow.Whatever the other says it's not her fault that she died,she still regrets it.

Regret from being jealous towards her.

Regret from causing her death.

Regret from take away her dream.

Regret everything,that happened.

And somepony appeared,pulling her out from the sea of sorrow and regret,Elixir Paradise.Under his actualization,she had become Red Brocade,the sister that she had always admired.

Of course,the PT's quickly noticed something's off about her,especially Magnifier.After learning what had happened,Magnifier was the first one that talked with her after Paradise had controlled her persona,attacking them two.

In the end,she took back her real identity,promised that she would walk her own path by her own,not in the name of her long dead sister.She may never really get to apologize to her anymore,but it doesn't really matter.

As long as she lives with pride and joy,and she would always by her side,giving her the courage to move on and acheive more and more.

[zeldriszezinho]

Name: Violet

Alias: Dark Violet

Fairy Traitor

Demon Fairy

Race: Fairy (Formerly)

Demon

Gender: Female

Age: 230

Status: Alive

Birthday: April 13th

Height: 168cm

Weight: 59 kg

Hair Color: Violet

Eye Color: Orange

Black (With Demon Mark activated)

Blood type: A

Affiliation: Fairy Clan (Formerly)

Fairy Forest (Formerly)

Demon Clan

Demon Realm

Occupation: Warrior of the Demon Army

The 4 princes master

Highest ranking demon

Abilities: Chlorokinesis

Cellulokinesis

Hellblaze

(Ignore the lineart and such, please. These drawings are months older by now. And since I introduced her some days before her birthday, expect a birthday art for her)

[froggi-mushroom]

I’m on a roll for really self-indulgent fics at the moment

[plastic-oasis]

Plastic oasis homestuck au…

[witchofhimring]

Under the shadow of the Crown

Synopsis: Your life as Princess Baela's lady-in-waiting is ripped apart. Queen Rhaenyra decrees that you marry her younger half brother Aemond. Terrified, you are in no position to object. Such are the lives of those in the shadow of the crown.

Pairings: Aemond x Y/n

Part of my Dynasty of Blood AU series, built of this concept.

You had never payed attention to the second sulky son of Alicent Hightower. If fact you had not even come to mainland Westeros to marry him in the first place. Of course marriage had always been in the cards. As heir to Blackhalt, your families ancestral seat just off of The Reach. A great match had always been in store for you. Lord Cregan Stark and Jeoffrey Velaryon had both been put forth. Only Lord Stark's had been seriously considered as the third born son of Queen Rhaenyra was not yet ten. It was only a pity the eldest two of her boys were to be wed. Well, Lucerys and Rhaena had not been wed at the time you arrived at Kings Landing. Crowned Prince Jaecerys had already taken Baela Targaryen to wife by then. Your role, until it was time to take up the mantel of ladyship, was to serve the royal family and cultivate whatever ties you could.

You were placed in the service of Princess Baela. She was around your age, born within the same year. Admittedly you were more than a bit intimidated. Use to being the second highest ranking lady in the room it was strange to be standing in front of the third greatest lady in the land. Not only that but Baela rode a dragon. Her beauty was intimidating as well, with thick silver hair and wide violet eyes. Her skin was dark and smooth, the scars she obtained in battle only giving highlighting her features. Normally scars could not be considered pretty, but Baela seemed to wear them as one would their jewels. Clad in black and red the princess looked almost like one of those Valyrian gods. Not that you had ever met one before. But perhaps this was how they were depicted.

The two of you would forge a friendship. A combination of personal liking and ambition. However it was with Rhaena that you first became friends with. The younger of the two, Rhaena was less assuming compared to Baela. That did not mean, as many mistakened her for, a wilting flower. She simply preferred to be more guarded and taken to court etiquette more easily. The two of you had much in common, a love of fine dresses, music, poetry and an ability to connive when the situation so called for it. When you were free of duties the two of you would hide under the Weirwood and read poetry.

Two years passed and a new year was upon everyone. A New Years ball was to be arranged and it was up to a team of ladies (including yourself) to organize who was wearing what. It was already agreed upon that Baela would be wearing a high collared red gown with rubies sewn into it. Not that she knew it yet. The rest of you would wear colours representing your houses to show a symbol of unity. "I think everyone should wear a red ribbon to symbolize the princess." Rhaena pulled out a silver box from underneath a tall tower of various items. Let it not be said this was an easy job. A new years celebration was nothing to scoff at. Especially as this one would be a pre-celebration to the marriage of Rhaena to Lucerys. Rhaenyra's second son had been off to learn what it mean to be a lord. This had been to the great distress of Rhaenyra. But she finally relented, unusually, and allowed Daemon to teach her son everything there was to know about being Prince of Dragonstone. Now that he had experience and was a man it was high time Lucerys married.

"Oh dear." Lady Cassandra stifled a laugh as she held up a pair of ludicrously high heels. Lady Cerelle of Casterly Rock paled and looked to Rhaena. She would find no security in her look as Rhaena sighed. "Let me see." You took the pair from her hand and examined them. They were exquisite in design and any woman would be thrilled to have them. Except this was Baela who would likely be as friendly as Vhargar when it came to overly constraining dresses.

Rhaena sighed and slumped in her seat. She looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. "Baela is going to kill me." You looked up at her. "Why you?" Rhaena sat up and stooped down to gather loose fabric. "Because I was the one who commissioned Panella to make the dress. And I swear I told her to make the dress to Baela's tastes. But the Queen ordered her to make it luxurious as possible." Queen Rhaenyra was well known for her expensive tastes. Just a glance at her dresses was enough for anyone to know. This had worked in your favour when the Queen gifted you a dress of pink silk and pearls. You had yet to wear it but the dress was truly magnificent. However, at this moment, was it worth it if Baela ripped your head off?

Deliverance came in the form a knock. One of Dowager Queen Alicents handmaidens entered. She first curtsied to Rhaena and then turned to you. "Lady Y/n, the Queen Dowager has requested your presence." Getting up you bid the ladies farewell before leaving. Hopefully you would be kept away long enough to avoid Baela's terror.

Lady Alicent had settled in the Hands Tower, much to the annoyance of the actual hand Ser Corlys Velaryon. The moment you entered green clouded your vision. On the steps of a dais sat the women serving Alicent. They mostly hailed from the Reach and Westerlands. Sitting on a throne like chair was Alicent. She looked older than her thirty and four years, a statue of regality and sternness. Had you done something to incur her ire? There was nothing you could think of. So you curtsied, hoping that if she was upset a show of supplication (even if it irked you) might mollify her. To your surprise she smiled, or at least it looked like a smile. This unsettled you to a degree.

"Lady Y/n, the Queen, your father and myself have chosen a husband for you." Several things went through your mind, excitement, anxiety and hope. You had been endlessly curious as to who would become your husband and the future lord consort to Blackhalt. "You will be marrying my son Prince Aemond. Everything dropped out from beneath you. Not literally, but it felt like someone had just hurled you down a dark tunnel. Out of everyone why him!? You could not say Aemond was well known to you. Only the stories and the looks he gave anyone attached to his elder sisters house. As you were a member of Baela's household his dislike over spilled into you as well.

Was this your fathers idea? Or your mother, who despite not being the ruling lady held great sway. Always you had known you'd marry, such was the duty of every lord and lady. Never had you though as you did now, that this was all some great mistake.

You curtsied to the third most powerful woman in Westeros and said how honoured you were. An honour it may be, but not one you cherished.

"Absolutely not!" If one though Baela had been angry beforehand it was nothing to her tirade over Aemond taking one of her handmaidens. "My Princess, I can still serve you, surely." You held her hand in your own. In the greatest state of anxiety Baela hardly seemed to notice. Suddenly she bounded to her feet. Cerelle leapt back in fright and Cassandra rose to her feet. Baela seized your hand and headed out the door. She strode forward with such a great fury you nearly tripped. You could hear the other two following, also having difficulty in catching up. It was only when you entered a staircase lined with red tapestries did you realize where it was Baela was taking you. Before there was even time to protest Baela waved the guards aside and burst through the door. Queen Rhaenyra lounged on a plush chair, surrounded by her three youngest sons, little Princess Visenya and four ladies. As usual she was bedecked in the finest robes imaginable. Jeoffrey came to his feet and rushed towards Baela. Despite the animosity between Baela and her good-mother she was fond of her husbands siblings. Once they broke apart Jeoffrey rushed back to his mother. Tention filled the room was two Targaryen Princesses stared each other down. Baela may not be Queen yet, but she had enough spirit to outdo almost any other. Rhaenyra may have been older, but the fire dwelling within her blood was no less furious. Despite their differences they both had something starkly similar. They were the very blood of Old Valyria.

"Princess Baela. Please take a seat." Baela simply stood there, not budging. Nervously you stood there. While Baela might get away with this you may suffer the brunt of Rhaenyra's anger. She was quick to anger and slow to forgive. So you hung your head in hopes that she might consider you unworthy of her anger. "He who bends may rise again", it was a Greyjoy saying, yet your mother mentioned it had a great deal of merit.

Lady Cassandra quietly entered, paid her respects to the Queen, then stood there. "Lady Velaryon, please take my daughter to her room." Lasfy Velaryon, a cousin of Baela, rose and took the hand of little Visenya who had only recently celebrated her third name day. With some fussing the princess was spirited away. Rhaenyra waited until her daughters little footsteps disappeared. When Rhaenyra focused her attention back onto Baela she looked as gentle as a dragon. They said the Queen was quick to anger, slow to forgive. You prayed her anger did not fall on you.

"Your impertinence is noted, Baela. Remember I am Queen so watch your tongue." The subject of Queenship had always been a tense, provocative one. When King Laenor died the crown passed to his wife. At the time Prince Jacaerys was only ten and considered too young to rule. Fearing a war over regency as had happened in the time of King Jaehaerys they had the boys mother become Queen. It was all wrapped up in a neat little bow. No boy kings and the succession going down the natural path. Or it would be so if it were not for the face Rhaenyra's sons were not Laenor's. Whispers floated down the halls that it was the former Captain of the City Guard Ser Harwin Strong who had fathered the boy. If the succession had gone down the true legitimate line then it would have passed to Laena's line. Baela was Laena's eldest child. But Rhaenyra was quick. She married Laena's widower Daemon Targaryen and married their children together.

Baela, who should have been Queen, stood in front of her stepmother who was Queen. Veryone else shrunk back. Even little Jeoffrey. "I hear you mean to marry Y/n Blackhalt to Aemond." She practically spat out the last words. All these years later Baela was still smarting over the injustice of Aemond taking Vhaegar from her sister. The feeling was mutual. Aemond had hated the Velaryon girls ever since that terrible fight on Driftmark. After the funeral of Princess Laena Aemond had stuck out and claimed Vhaegar which had once belonged to Aegon, consort of Queen Visenya. Words were said and Baela punched Aemond. A brawl ensued and Aemond lost an eye. The relationship between the families of Viserys Targaryen's first and second wives had never been smooth. Rhaenyra was left imbittered after her lady-in-waiting Alicent married her father. The two had never reconciled. Or so you heard.

"I am aware. Myself, Lady Alicent and your father have all agreed to it." Baela puffed up. "As a lady in my service Y/n is under my care and therefore I should have been informed." "My brother is a prince of the realm. Lady Y/n should feel honoured." Rhaenyra's amethyst eyes then settled on you. Oh Gods no.

"Lady Y/n, what do you say?" This was possibly the worst situation you could be placed in. Either way you would offend someone. Your best friend and future Queen, or the current Queen. Your mothers lessons went through your head. What would she do in this situation? Feigning calm, you spoke. "My opinion hardly counts. I will do what is best for the realm." You prayed this appeased both Targaryens. Rhaenyra had a look of satisfaction on her face. Baela's you could not see.

"There we have it. Is there anything else you would like to add?" It was not because Baela had been calmed that she turned and left. You could see the tension in her shoulders and knew Baela only left to stop herself from doing something truly rash. She had let go of you and both you and Cassandra were forced to race behind. All the way to her room the three of you ran. Rhaena and Cerelle were still in Baela's room. Rhaena opened her mouth but Baela spoke first. Once inside she immediately rounded on you. "So you want to marry him!" The fury in her voice made you cower. Unable to speak, it took everything in you not to cry. "You betray me in front of the Queen! You! Are you truly my friend or will you open your legs to any many who will have you!" Everyone gasped. Cassandra dropped the pearls, Rhaena clasped a hand to her mouth and Cerelle had silently fled.

You could not even cry. Your fear was so intense you remained rooted to the spot, stuck dumb. By no means were you a coward. Under any other situation you would have defended your honour. But not only was Baela your friend, but a Princess and future Queen. Baela's furious person glowered at you. Trembling, you only just begun to think of anything to say when Baela turned on her feet and stormed out.

There was no air in your lungs. Or at least that was what it felt like. Everything seemed to be falling away leaving you in a deep sea of despair. One by one you imagined everything being taken away, leaving only burned friendships and a disgraced name. Baela shot you one last disgusted before turning on her heel and leaving. With a bang the door shut.

Everything swam before you. Darkness began to rise and suddenly you were swallowed by it. Fading voiced echoed and drifted further and further away. A dull pain echoed in your head.

Then everything was black.

Pain was the first to greet you. The sun nearly blinded you and the world came into blurry focus. Every movement was slow and it ached. The bed dipped slightly as a face hovered above yours. "Y/n?" You recognized Rhaena through her voice. Then another joined your view. With vision clearing you realized it was a Septa. A cold hand pressed against your burning forehead and she spoke. "Can you see?" The words that came out of you sounded strange, like someone was yelling across the great hall. "Yes. But faintly, I think?" Wincing you held up a hand. Your vision was clearing and almost perfect again. "Sit up if you can." A hand behind your back helped you up. Propped against pillows a cup was placed by your lips. Cold water wetted your parched throat. It made a world of difference. Your senses were clearing and the remains of grogginess disappeared. Unfortunately it also brought pain into sharper focus. Reaching behind you felt a bump.

"Thank the Gods that is all. It could have been so much worse." Cerelle was nervously chewing her fingernails. You noticed that Cassandra and Baela were missing. "Cassandra was summoned by Baela. But she is very worried." Said Rhaena noticing your mood. "Does the Princess know what happened?" "I don't know. Not unless Cassandra told her." Defeated, you laid back. Still coming out of a haze your thoughts darted here and there. All this information, Baela's anger, the betrothal and Queen Rhaenyra's animosity made you want to faint all over again.

Cerelle and Rhaena said nothing else as you lay back down. The three of you stayed in that room, the sun setting. All the while you wondered if this was the right decision.

You should have been happy at the choice of husband. Aemond was young, handsome and a prince. But on the morning of your wedding all you felt was dread. During the early hours of the morning you lay awake, Rhaena snoring a few inches away. As a princess-to-be you got new rooms in the Red Keep. These ones opened out onto the garden, a combination of roses and salt lingering on every surface. You would rather have been in the old rooms. At least Baela had been your friend back then, and Aemond had not been your betrothed. You missed those days were you were just Lady Blackhalt. After the wedding you would be sent back with Aemond to Blackhalt island. Away from the place which had been your home since childhood.

Everyone but you seemed happy. Only Rhaena seemed aware of your mood. Cassandra and Cerelle were with Baela, they would no longer be with you. And Baela...who knew. They washed you within an inch of your flesh. Scrubbed till it hurt they finally pulled you out and lathered on a sweet smelling cream. Every inch of you were fussed over by an army of women. When that was done they dressed you, a whole new ordeal. For the first time you wore the Targaryen black and red. The three headed dragon was sewn onto your bodice with rubies glittering on silk strings. For a moment you forgot every worry when looking in the mirror. Every move sent sparkles dancing around you, and as princess you would always have such gowns. At least that was one comfort.

The dress became a burden when it was time for the procession through King's Landing. They placed you on a chariot for all of the smallfolk to see. They called out to you, blessing you with good fortune and many children. You smiled and waved, ignoring the heat and painful corset. Yet to have so much adoration gave you a warm feeling. You tried to focus on that. White petals were thrown into the air. Several getting caught in your hair. Finally you arrived back at the Red Keep. The remaining court which had not come with you was waiting. Helped off, you were delivered into the arms of your father. Lord Blackhalt was a stranger to his daughter. Having barely seen him in years it felt strange to have him hand you off. Baela might as well have done the honours. Speaking of Baela she was there. It hurt when she barely looked at you. And after this you would likely hardly see her again.

They were now closing in from all sides. Walking into the Great Hall you felt all their eyes on you. 'From now on I will always be watched.' You thought. You would go from lady to princess. A member of the royal family. Waiting for you at the end was the High Septon and Queen Rhaenyra, looking on in satisfaction. You hated the queen, her satisfied look making you want to throw up down the stairs. How dare she act all pleased! And then you saw your betrothed. Aemond stood inches from his sister. His black leather made you want to shrink away. 'Don't you it.' The warning spurred you on.

Aemond's hand was calloused and cold. It was a shock compared to the heat of this morning. For the first time you looked Aempnd in the face. As a body you feared him, as a man you nearly ran. And now you would spend the rest of your life with him. His purple eye was hard to read. No expression passed his face. It was worse than showing anger, at least you would know what to expect. Right now you knew nothing. In truth despite the proximity for so many years you knew nothing about him. Always it had been the words of Baela and Rhaena which painted a picture. Now on your own there was a blank canvas.

'With this kiss I pledge my love.' Empty words. His lips were cold against your own ones. Your black and white cloak was whipped off, replaced by the Targaryen sigil. No longer Lady Y/n. Y/n Blackhalt, Princess of Westeros. You felt naked, unprotected. And now your girlhood was ended.

Notes: I just want to reiterate that this is not a story in the sense I will organize it into chapters. It will be a collection of one shots based off of scenarios. If anyone wants to further discuss these characters I am happy to do so!

About the characters: Cassandra is much nicer in this version. I suspect that the reason she was so bitter in Fire and Blood was because she went from a possible heiress to House Baratheon and promised to a prince, then promised to a King. Only she ended up married to a man well below her station. Personally I think she was definitely ambitious, but is less malicious in this version due to being Lady Baratheon by right. So she certainly has less to be bitter about.

Now, about the readers wedding. Because this is a world were women inherit the reader will keep her last name. But because she is marrying into the royal family she wears their colours. So that is why she wears the Targaryen cloak.

Rhaenyra does come off as cruel in this one-shot however she will get more development. Her actions are a combination of spite against Baela and to show her place as Queen. Baela resents Rhaenyra for taking the place she thinks is hers. I will at some point write a one-shot from Baela's point of view.

The other ideas I have in mind:

-Rhaenyra and the reader talking about their dead ancestors

-Baela and Daenerys (reader's daughter) talks about queenship

-Reader's friendship with Baela and Rhaena

-"Monarchs of Westeros" (part 1) Covering every monarch of Westeros in this AU from Visenya the First to Rhaenyra the Second.

[reverseenchancia]

I'm so excited to write a fanfiction about Cedric and Violet with the au of Reverse Enchancia 😍

[604to647]

Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

First Movement (Adagio sostenuto)

5.5K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: About to make your society debut and enter London's marriage mart, you don't expect an old friend whom you haven't seen in over 10 years to make a surprise appearance at the first ball of the season.

Warnings: None! Fluff! B, C, D, E, F Bridgerton make appearances. It's me so there's a cute nickname (won't spoil). The masterlist includes a few words about how this reader insert is written - essentially, no reader description other than having hair and wearing dresses in the style of this era, reader has a backstory; much of this part is exposition (so maybe a little slow but we'll get there!😊)

A/N: My plan is to post the entire series before Season 3 of Bridgerton airs, because the story is intended to take place in the background of the same season and if things don't make sense after the show comes out then oh well 🤭 I'm also only 2/3 of the way through Julia Quinn's books, so please forgive me if some of my characterizations of the Bridgertons are not wholly correct 🙏🏻

Wonderful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Series Masterlist

The Duchess of Hastings stands behind you, admiring the reflection in the mirror of the two of you together, “I dare say, if you had debuted with me during my season, there is a good chance that I may not have been the Diamond.”

“Oh, shush, your Grace,” you make a funny face at her in the mirror, to which she laughs and pokes you in the ribs, “Don’t you start with this ‘Your Grace’ business with me.”

That Daphne Bridgerton is your dearest and oldest friend in England is something you consider to be one of the great fortunes of your life, of which, as the daughter of a Count, you have many.  Violet Bridgerton and your mother, the Countess, had been dear friends and as such, much of your early childhood in England had been spent at Bridgerton House, running around with not only the same aged Daphne, but her elder and younger siblings as well.  The Bridgertons are one of the most beloved families of the ton, their good natured and spirited personalities recommending themselves to everyone, and accordingly, your memories of when your two families would gather remain some of the most joyous of your childhood.

Sadly, your dear mother passed away from illness when you were only seven years of age and your beloved father, who loved her more than life itself, could not bear to stay in England much without her.  The Count was one of several nobles charged with governance of Her Majesty’s Royal Naval Fleet; a gentle man, his purview was primarily diplomatic (as opposed to militaristic) and he thus travelled widely, often and always for long periods of time.

Though he did not wish to remain where so many of his memories dwelled, the Count could not bear to leave his only child behind, and consequently, you had joined your father on his travels.  He proudly raised a cheerful, spirited daughter who loved the seas and adventure as much as she did reading and music.  Your father found that exposing you to and requiring you to immerse yourself in so many foreign cultures at a young age led you to be the most sympathetic and kind hearted child, one who others found easy to converse with and befriend on account of your good humoured nature and open minded heart.  Unencumbered by the rigid etiquette requirements (and dress code!) of British high society, you happily embraced many freedoms that other young ladies of your age and breeding did not have the opportunity to enjoy.  Your father taught you much about the ships and business of the naval fleet, subjects to which you took a great interest; to this day, you know your way around most ships better than some sailors.  The Count was especially proud of your affinity for diplomacy, understanding the importance of fairness and tough negotiation both in foreign matters and managing fleets.  You loved all of it – spending countless hours pouring over maps and letters of diplomatic matters with your father and absorbing all you could; as you got older, you took great pride in the way your father would sometimes seek your opinion and advice on business matters and delighting when he would praise you on your ideas.

While he was unorthodox, your father could not be accused of being neglectful; he would not forgo your formal and societal education, knowing that one day, you would have to return to live in England.  Hiring only the most adventurous and brave governesses to accompany your travels, the Count ensured that your literary, numerical, musical and artistic accomplishments and pursuits could rival those of your peers back home.  You learned to dance the dances of grand balls, though you had only the few foreign dignitary hosted events to practice.  Your only other occasion to practice came when you would return for your infrequent visits to England, reuniting with your beloved Bridgertons to spend nearly all your time catching up and laughing with Daphne and her siblings, and take in what you could of British society before once again being swept away on another ship.  Though brief, these reunions with your friends, coupled with your frequent letters were enough to ensure your friendships remained strong and cherished over the years.

Two years ago, Daphne had made her societal debut, meeting and marrying her love, the Duke, during the marriage season and you could not have been more delighted for your friend.  That season should have also been your debut season, except that you and your father were in the Far East and would not have been able to complete the Count’s business and return in time.  Since you had postponed one year, what was two?  If you had your way, you would have made it three, not eager to give up the life of travel and leisure that you’ve grown accustomed to.  However, when the Queen wrote to ask why the daughter of one of her esteemed Counts has not yet been presented, both you and your father had to regretfully concede that your life as a carefree sea farer was over.

And thus, you find yourself in your present circumstance: in a luxurious silk gown the colour of swan feathers, wearing what might actually be swan feathers in your hair, about to be presented to the Queen before embarking on your first social season.  To be honest, you’re not terribly nervous, save for whatever nerves one always has whenever attempting something new, and you have good reasons not to be.

The first being that you are in the very capable hands of your great friend, the Duchess.  The now Dowager Viscountess had promised your mother that when the time for your debut came, it would be the Bridgerton family’s honour to sponsor you.  If anything, you felt that the honour was all yours – not only were you to have the support and backing of one of the most respected and revered families during your season, you would also be blessed with their company.  As fortune would have it, due to the timing of your debut, Violet had prepared herself to take on the duty of presenting not one but two girls: yourself and her third eldest daughter, Francesca. 

Fearing it was far too much work and pressure, you had assured Violet, whom you loved as a second mother, that she need not fret too much over you; you’re a woman of twenty-three with more world experience than most men twice your age, and encouraged her to focus her attentions on her own daughter.  Violet had been aghast at the implication that she didn’t think of you as one of her daughters, and you were about to be on the receiving end of a scolding that only a mother could dispense when Daphne came to your rescue.  As the Duchess of Hastings, she herself had the right to present young ladies at court, and she declared herself delighted to be your patroness this season.  This was decidedly a win-win; not only could Violet concentrate on Francesca’s prospects, you could now look forward to spending the season with your dear friend by your side.

The second reason you’re not overly anxious is that despite being older than most of the girls debuting at the same time, you know you have plenty to recommend you to potential suitors.  No, you are not terribly conceited nor do you hold your own attributes in such high esteem, but rather, very practically, you know most suitors will not let a small thing such as age deter them from the handsome fortune your father has bestowed upon you. 

The Count was forever exasperated with the shortcomings of the laws of inheritance and how they prevented his one child from inheriting his estate, but he made up for it the best he could with the legal avenues available to him.  First, he set aside a healthy dowry for you, so that you would be sure to attract a similarly healthy crop of high society gentlemen from which to choose a husband.  Second, via his will, you would be provided for for the remainder of your life with a generous per annum allowance that rivaled the income of many estates; you were to want for nothing even if you never married. 

And finally, known only to a select few, your father had a vast investment in an international fleet separate from the naval fleet of the queen; a beloved exploration and trade business venture that was the Count’s passion project - you and him spending many enjoyable hours pouring over the plans and movements of this fleet.  The dividends from your father’s shares went directly into a trust of which you (and any future children of yours) are the sole beneficiary, though the capital had to be held by a man.  It was the Count’s thinking that in addition to the income, it was only fair that you benefitted from a venture that you had invested much of your own heart and time into.  Naturally, being a part of your father’s estate, this investment could be passed down to the next Count (a distant relative), but your father had other plans.  If the intended recipient was willing, you father wanted to sell his shares to his future son-in-law, allowing for the dividends to continue flowing to you and so that you may remain close to the business via your husband’s involvement. 

In other words, there are plenty of reasons that potential suitors who might otherwise be dismissive of your age and lack of societal presence, may find you attractive (the least of which were probably your charm and wit); you can afford to be choosy and you fully intend to be.  And while you’re not quite so hopeful to wish for a great love like that of your parents, or even Daphne and her beloved Simon, you dearly wish for a husband that will understand and respect you; one who will celebrate you for your mind, experience, opinions and all the reasons why you’re different due to having grown up the way you did.

Daphne seems to have high hopes that there will be many potential suitors who will live up to your expectations.  You’re less confident than she, but still more optimistic than not.

Flopping yourself down on the chaise next to Eloise, the two of you heave heavy sighs in unison.  After the nerve-racking presentation to the queen earlier this week, the following days have been a non-stop flurry of ribbons, fittings, etiquette lessons and teas with the express purpose of study in the who’s who of the ton.  In just a few hours, all of Violet and Daphne’s hard work and preparations will be put on display when your contingent attends the first event of the season: the Danbury Ball.

Eloise passes a box of candy to you and you select a treat gratefully.  Though Daphne is your closest friend, you’ve sometimes found yourself having a fair amount in common with Eloise and know her to be a trustworthy confidant; this is one of those times.  While you don’t think you have it in you to hate anything as much as Eloise despises the marriage mart, the both of you at least have the good fortune of being able to be picky with your suitors and moreover, wish to exercise that particular privilege.  For Eloise, marriage is a cage.  For you, it’s the not marriage itself, but a union with an imprudent match that you wish to avoid.  If you can no longer be free to sail the seas and wander through the valleys and streets of the foreign lands that call your name, you must insist that the home you’re being called home to roost is at the very least, pleasant.

“I beg of you,” murmurs Eloise, “Please let all the fashionable young men fill up your dance card so that there shall be none left for me.”

You steal another piece of candy, “I’m afraid there’s more than enough young men to go around, El.  Plus, you really ought to beseech Franny for your request, my dance card may struggle for applicants on account of me being such an old maid,” you giggle.

“None of that negativity now,” chimes in Daphne from the open door, “tonight is full of possibilities.”

During the season, you’re staying at Bridgerton House so to be close to all the finery of dresses, jewels, shoes, ladies’ maids and moral support that you may need.  Your father is staying nearby in another house on Grosvenor Square, and comes by most days to see his daughter and dear family friends for breakfast at the very least.  You have loved your life with your father, but at times like these, when you are laughing at and listening to the loving snipes and bickering of the Bridgerton siblings, you often wonder what it would have been like to have a more traditional upbringing.  Pushing that thought out of your mind, you stand and pull Eloise up with you so that the two of you can follow the Duchess to the next room where you’re expected to choose from the glittering selection of dresses laid out for tonight.

As you lean towards selecting a pretty lavender gown, Daphne fills you in on the processional arrangements for your entrances tonight, “Mama, Franny, Anthony and Kate will take the first carriage, then you, Eloise and I will follow in the second.  We will enter the ball in that order as well.”

“What about Colin and Ben?”

“They’re meeting with some friend from Colin’s travels whom he met in… I want to say Greece?  They will make their own way and meet us at the ball.”  You nod agreeably; as long as everyone is together at some point or another, your first season event will feel a lot less daunting.

---

As you walk into the Danbury estate, you cannot but feel a bit overwhelmed by all the elegance and glamour on display.  Though no stranger to luxury and finer things, it’s not very often that you find yourself amidst so much opulence.  Eyes shining as you take in the finery, your voice is full of excitement and genuine awe as you compliment Lady Danbury and thank her for hosting tonight’s soiree.  Hand clasped tight in Daphne and Eloise’s as you make your way down the main hall to the ballroom, you see Colin further down on the right side of the hallway, waving alongside Benedict.  Waiting by the wall with the Bridgerton brothers is a third gentleman, tall and broad shouldered with soft, curly brown hair who currently has his back to you; Colin has on a mischievous grin and he’s speaking to the stranger quietly, eyes flitting back to you and his sisters periodically as you approach.  This can’t be good, you think with suspicion.  When you’re a few steps away from meeting with the brothers, Colin gives the stranger a slight nod and he turns around; before you even have a chance to look upon the newcomer’s face, you hear a familiar sweet baritone voice say, “Hello, Dulce.”

At first, you’re in shock; the Spanish word for candy is not a nickname people commonly call you and it’s one you haven’t heard in over ten years.  Then joy of recognition and realization overtake you and you completely forget where you are, crying out, “Pero!!!”  Your arms behave of their own accord and fly open to wrap around his neck as you launch yourself into the handsome man’s arms.

He hugs you back firmly and whispers low in your ear, “Happy to see you, too” before releasing you, the both of you immediately stepping apart and drop your hands to your sides, remembering where you are and that the eyes of the ton are always watching.  But you can’t help but beam; nor can you look away from Pero’s face. 

Pero Tovar had been your most constant and beloved friend for many of your happiest childhood years spent abroad.  Pero’s father, a Barón of Spain, was in charge of naval governance for his country in a similar capacity as your father was for England and accordingly, their paths crossed regularly in foreign countries.  Both men of gentlemanly dispositions, the Count and the Barón had forged a deep and lasting friendship as they conducted their business.  Another thing that they had bonded over was the fact that they were both widows who uncharacteristically chose to bring and raise their children with them on their travels. 

So, although Pero is eight years your elder and already in his early teens when you first met, being the only two children of sea loving foreign diplomats in the strange lands you found yourselves in readily recommended you to each other and you had become happy and frequent playmates.  Pero devoted hours and hours to your amusement, allowing himself to play more juvenile games of pretend that he may not otherwise with compatriots of his own age, and with his encouragement you grew to be brave and curious, always wishing to keep up with the older boy.  He helped you with your studies, and you played music for him, learning and mastering the pieces he enjoyed the most.  The two of you shared a love of literature and it became your special version of a traditional hunt in each new country you landed in to find foreign language versions of the other’s favourite books so that you could read the translations alongside your worn English copies.  Some of the most cherished copies of your favourite books, ones you carry with you from country to country still, were gifts from Pero. 

As you got older, your shared adventures expanded to include exploring the streets of new cities, trying local cuisines and frolicking on the beaches of the coasts of Italy, Portugal and even India.  The last time you had seen him, he was a strapping young man of twenty and you had been twelve.  His father was returning to Spain for an undetermined amount of time to deal with affairs of his estate, and Pero would be entering university, having postponed his acceptance for two years already.  Although you had each promised to write, the letters were far and few between and eventually you lost track of Pero – you can hardly blame either of you; you were travelling with your father and not always easy to find, and you didn’t really expect a young man concentrating on his studies to have the time to write to a young girl despite having been her very best friend for so many years.

But now he’s standing right in front of you and you can hardly believe your eyes.  He’s impossibly tall and wide, a far cry from the lanky boy with whom you scrambled over rocks on the beaches of Portugal, but he’s still tanned, leading you to surmise that he must still sail or at least get a healthy amount of sun regularly.  And while his face is older, devastatingly handsome with a cutting jawline partially hidden by untamed facial scruff, he’s completely recognizable to you.  An easy clue is the scar that runs from above his left eyebrow down past his eye, though faded from when you saw it last, but it’s the indulgent smile he’s giving you right now that gives him away to you.

“What are you doing at this ball? Did you know I would be here?” you can’t help but continue to stare at Pero wide-eyed, grinning like a fool.

“Oh!  We made the connection earlier this week at dinner,” chimes in Colin, “We were going to bring him over to the house but thought this would be more fun.”

You make to swat at Colin’s arm. “How did you meet this scoundrel?” you jest, with absolutely no malice in your voice, pointing your thumb at the still laughing Bridgerton brother.  As your group starts to move towards the ballroom, Pero falls into an easy step by your side, “We met when Colin was taking in the crisp sea air of Mykonos, and then again last year in the vineyards of Tuscany.  He made for excellent company after a long day of helping the locals prune grape vines.  Naturally, when I arrived in London for business this month, I had to look him up.”

Daphne is now tugging you towards the ballroom by your hand, and in turn, you’ve grabbed onto and are practically dragging Eloise down the hall with you.  You shout back to Pero, “I want to hear everything!” and can’t help the smile that spreads across your excited face when he nods after you.

“Oh!” you breathe, invigorated from the surprise of seeing Pero, as you come to a stop right before the entrance way.  Daphne smiles over at you, “It was so hard keeping it a secret from you!”

You’re astonished, “You knew about Pero as well?”

“Yes, I thought it might give you an additional boost of confidence to have another friend’s support during your first event.” 

You smile at your sweet friend and squeeze her hand affectionately, “Thank you!  It does and I’m delighted to see Pero again.  But in truth, my confidence could never be lacking when I have a friend like you next to me.” 

Daphne gives you her biggest smile and squeezes your hand right back.  A moment later, the three of you step into the ballroom and meet the gazes of the other attendees as you’re announced.

---

The ball is a whirlwind.  It seems you hardly have a moment to even catch your breath, never mind catch up with Pero.  From the moment you walked in to the grand hall, you were pulled in this direction and then that, introduced to new person after new person, some of whose names were familiar from your visits home over the years, and others only from the copious amounts of study you’ve done on the ton over the past week.  You’ve certainly forgotten all their names by now. 

Then it’s dance after dance after dance with the young gentleman that Daphne parades in front of you.  The dancing itself is quite pleasant and a lovely way to shake out some of your jitters, but you find the small talk hardly enough to get to know your partners, and when the dance is over and you’re once again being whisked away to another introduction or meeting that the Duchess has lined up for you.  The few opportunities you’ve had to take a breather and indulge in a glass of lemonade, you’ve been happy to retreat back to Pero and your small familiar group; but just when you’ve started to entreat your old friend to open up about his adventures since you saw him last, another potential suitor will be introduced and the entire cycle starts over again.

It’s only when you’re halfway through the evening that the frenzy has died down enough that you can observe and be amused by Pero’s behaviour at the ball.  While you’re constantly twirling around the dancefloor, you notice that he never leaves his position against the wall and doesn’t dance at all; he mainly scowls and looks displeased, hardly speaking to anyone other than the Bridgertons or you when you have a free moment.  You feel his eyes follow you as you glide across the dance floor with the young men that have asked you to dance, and even when you’re making your way through the room on Daphne’s arm, meeting and making small talk with the other families of the ton.  When you do happen to look up and search for him, you often find him glowering and looking dissatisfied, though if you catch his eye, his expression will soften slightly. 

Once while you were dancing with Lord Whitfield, you had caught Pero’s eye mid-turn and made a silly quizzical face at him, as if to ask What’s going on with you? and you think you see him laugh briefly before the steps of the dance require you to turn away from him.  You wonder why frowns so fearsomely and if there’s a reason for him to be so stoic and curt with the rest of the ton.  It’s so odd to you as you’ve never had so much as a cross word from him in all the time you’ve known him, not even when you had snuck out of the compound in Singapore when you were nine so you could watch the fireworks display.  Pero had come looking for you, his face serious and eyes panicked when he finally found you in the busy square, but he never once got mad.  Instead, he swore not to tell your father, and promised that if you had wanted to see the fireworks up close, he would accompany you.  And then he did just that the next night and the night after that.  But here, when not engaging the company of his friends, Pero’s countenance is positively sour.  Any hopes harboured by the mamas of the ton for snagging a Spanish nobility son-in-law this season are quickly dashed.  Barón Tovar is decidedly not here to find a wife.

With the evening more than half over, you realize that unless you make the point to do so, an opportunity to speak more than a few minutes with Pero will surely not present itself.  And while you are having fun meeting potential suitors, your mind consistently wanders to Pero throughout the evening.  Aside from simply wishing to catch up with him and be in his comforting presence, you do have something important you feel compelled to speak to him on.

After a particularly spirited quadrille, you curtsey your gratitude for the dance to Mr. Sedgewick, and before any of the young men you spy hovering nearby can approach you, you hurry as elegantly as you can toward where Pero is standing awkwardly pressed to the wall. 

Pero, having seen the look of determination on your face when seeking him out, asks with concern when you come up to him, “Is everything okay, Dulce?”

There he is, you smile when you see the kind, gentle expression of the boy that you knew for so many years, “Everything is fine, Pero.  Although I must admit to needing a respite from all the endless socializing.  Do you think we could get some lemonade?”

“Of course.  I would be happy to accompany you in fetching a glass.”

With Pero by your side, any person who previously had designs on engaging you during this brief break between dances now thinks better of it; you chuckle to yourself as his fearsome expression comically paves a clear path for you to the refreshments table.  Once having secured your drink, you ask Pero if you can speak to him privately.

Careful not to lead you from view of other people lest it incite a scandal, Pero finds a quiet place in the entrance hallway and turns to find you looking up at him rather seriously.

When you’re certain you have his attention, you launch into your confession, “Pero, please allow me to tell you how sorry I was to hear of your father’s passing.  I remember him as such a kind, generous man, and such a wonderful friend to my father and by extension, me.  I will always think of him with tremendous fondness.”

“Thank you, Dulce.  I know he thought very highly of both you and your father and forever treasured your friendships.”

But you’re not done and start to shake your head, eyes filling with tears, “And I’m so very sorry that I did not write to you at the time.  I didn't know where you were, but I should have been more diligent in my efforts to find you.  I deeply regret not being there for you if you needed someone.  I hope you were not alone during that difficult time.”

You hang your head in shame.  Pero feels a deep affection for you blossoming in his chest; before him is the same sweet and compassionate girl he knew when he was a boy.  Tender-hearted and endlessly considerate of the feelings of others, you always had more empathy than you knew what to do with; he himself had been on the receiving end of your care and concern more times than he could count.  Pero gently tips you chin up with his gloved finger, “It was a tough time and I miss him a great deal.  But he was an incredible man and I strive to follow the example he set for me everyday.  So, in many ways, he is still with me.  No need for any apologies.”  He gives you what he hopes is a soft and reassuring smile.

In return, you grin, “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?  The boy I knew would have made me pay dearly for even the slightest offense - my portion of dessert for a week, at the very least.”

Unable to hold back his own grin, Pero is finding it easy to slip back into this familiar type of playful banter with you, “Well, I was trying to be a gentleman, but since you think me nothing more than a brute, I shall have no trouble devising an appropriate punishment.  For your transgression against me, I demand… a dance.”

You laugh whole-heartedly and it feels wonderful to laugh loudly at something genuinely funny rather than the quiet polite laughter you’ve been making most of the evening. “A dance?  Well, that is hardly a concession for me!  One dance with you means one less spot on my dance card for some lord I don’t know but who Daphne thinks I might find charming,” you joke.

“Are you finding your potential suitors so far to be villains or are they all just very boring?” smirks Pero.

Giving him a little punch in the arm to show him you’re not really complaining, “I am not so terribly unfeeling.  They are for the most part fine enough gentlemen.  The particular circumstance we find ourselves in just makes them so very eager.  It can feel terribly awkward.”

“None of them are good enough for you anyway.”

“Oh, and you are?” you jest, eyes full of mirth.

“Dulce, I’m the worst of the bunch,” counters Pero, leaning in close.

“I don’t doubt it,” you haven’t smiled this wide all evening.

“Be that as it may, the price you must pay to regain my favour remains the same.  Shall we?” Pero holds out his arm, waiting for you to accept his dance invitation; you hold on to him gratefully and head back into the main ballroom, realizing this is the first dance of the ball that you’ve truly looked forward to.

When Pero takes his place across from you, the tittering from the crowd that the Barón has finally taken to the dance floor can be heard over the opening notes of the music.  You can’t help but giggle, and Pero beams back at you – your light laughter more melodic than any music he’s ever heard.

Hand firmly curling around your waist, Pero sways you to the beat and the two of you carry out the steps of the dance comfortably together.  You hadn’t realized how much stress you’ve been under or how much tension you’ve been holding in until now, when you find yourself actually relaxing in Pero’s strong hold.  For the first time this evening, you’re dancing without nerves or the pressure of having to make polite conversation or a good first impression; you can simply be.  You sigh in contentment.

“What is it, Dulce?  Are my dance skills not to the standard set by your other partners this evening?”

“Hardly,” you chuckle, “I know for a fact that you dance remarkably well.  And if I were to have any complaints, the blame would rest squarely on my shoulders since we learned these dances together.”

“That’s true, we can only be as good as the partners we practice with.”

“Exactly. At least that’s what Madam used to say, right before she would rap you on your shoulders with her rhythm baton,” you muse, nostalgic.

“That weapon had a name?  I have not thought of Madam for many years now, but upon my word if I did not straighten up and stiffen my arms just now.”

You share another chortle as only two close friends with a long history of fond memories and inside jokes between them can.  When you sigh again, Pero cocks his scarred eyebrow at you.

“Do not think me dissatisfied, my Lord.  It is simply just so comfortable dancing with you, as if it has not been over ten years since we last did so.”

“I feel the same way, Dulce.”

You smile sincerely at Pero; although you could explain yourself further, you somehow know that he understands your meaning without you having to do so.  Feeling content, both heart and mood light in the safety of Pero’s closed frame, you find yourself wishing that you could spend the rest of the ball dancing with only him.

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