#i like drawing mama seri... i know shes a wonderful lady

[almondpiglet]

serizawaweek day 2: school

welcome back from school once again

[saltsicklover]

Part Five

You guys, thank you so much for all the love on this series! I see your comments and tags, and I just want you to know that I do! Thank you for interacting. I want to reply but I don't know how to do so without using my personal blog. Anyway, just know that I see you and I appreciate you! Happy Reading!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3100+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, Pining Hangman, Crying, Nat throwing herself from a moving vehicle, Sunny finding out about The Bet.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

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Hangman watches Sunny for a few moments, taking in the soft features of her face as she watches the point where the sunset meets the waves. He notices the numerous earrings that decorate the expanse of her ear, the jewelry glittering in the sunset. He traces the jewels with his eyes, fighting the urge to move the piece of hair that has fallen in front of her ear. 

Hangman sighs, running a hand down his face, attempting to regain some composure. He continues to remind himself that this is not a date, Sunny is not here for him. Jake wonders if Phoenix would ever forgive him for making a move- the thought of thinking before acting on impulse almost new to Jake. 

He gives her another moment to sit before breaking the silence- he tells himself it's for her, but really, he wants to sit there and look at her for just a moment longer. Jake doesn't know what it is, but he can't seem to take his eyes off of her, something resonating from her aura that just draws him in without her even trying. 

He almost reaches over the bench seat to take her hand in his, just to feel the heat of her soft palm in his again, but he shoves the desire down, letting it sit deep in his stomach almost aching. So, he speaks, to keep himself from doing something stupid- something he can't take back. 

"You ready to get the party started?" He smirks, fingers unbuckling his seatbelt. She follows suit, the seatbelt unclicking before retracting behind her right shoulder. Hangman slides out of his side of the truck before winding around the front and over to her door. He pulls it open and offers a hand to Sunny. She rolls her eyes, sliding out, then hitting his out turned hand on the back with her own, smacking it away. 

"I was trying to be polite," Jake rolls his eyes, nothing but playful jest behind them, though he aches to feel her skin against his again, "My Mama would smack me if I was anything but polite to a lady while she gets out of a vehicle,"

"Looks like she raised you right," Sunny moves around him and down the bed of the truck. She grabs the side of the bed before planting one foot on the tire, pulling herself up into the bed with one swift motion. Hangman watches her with delight, taking note of the mismatched piercings that cover her other ear. "Too bad I was raised by my Uncle Remy, who taught me to never trust a man, "'cuz he's never met a man who wasn't playin' games","

"I never said that I wasn't playin'," Hangman watches as she roots around in her duffel. He takes in the way the tip of her tongue juts out from between her teeth, her eyes drifting to the side in concentration while she searches through the bag by touch alone. When she pulls her hand out, she grasps a magic marker and a handful of red "Hello My Name Is" stickers. 

Jake quirks a brow, watching as she balances a nametag on her knee, marker cap held between her front teeth as she scribbles something across the tag. She quickly peels the tag from its backing before slapping it to her chest, smack on her left breast, her name and a small doodle of the sun adorn it. She moves to the next tag, the beginning of an 'H' being written before Jake speaks again. 

"You do realize we wear our names on our uniforms, right?" Sunny's eyes drop Jake's chest, his last name printed in crisp white letters on the black plastic tag. 

"Seresin, huh?" Her words are muffled a bit by the marker cap that's still placed between her teeth. Her hands move, eyes still locked on him. He beams with pride, smirk a little larger than before. 

"Yes, Ma'am, that's me," Sunny caps the marker as she pushes herself to stand again, "That's why it's on my chest," He lets his finger trace the underside of the perfectly placed nameplate.

Sunny takes the chance to throw herself over the side of the pickup, landing loudly next to Hangman. He jumps back a bit at the suddenness of her movement and how she moved with such ease, eyes darting around her form, checking for any sign of distress. As quick as his eyes snap to her, a sticky nametag is pressed crookedly over the already pristine one on his chest. It reads "Hanged Man" in sloppy letters, a little doodle of a stick figure in the space next to it, the same kind of stick figure children use for the game Hangman. It's clever, really, but he glares down at it anyway. 

"That's more correct, I think," She pats him again on the chest, right in the middle of his sturdy frame, a proud look on her face. There is a playfulness behind her eyes and it drives Hangman a bit more crazy. He hopes that she didn't feel the quickening of his heart under her palm. 

She pulls her hand back as quickly as it was pressed against his chest. He almost reached out to grasp her wrist, to bring her hand back up to rest over his heart. Thankfully, he catches himself mid movement, instead, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Jake knows this woman will be the death of him, from the way she throws smirks around, to the red of her dress and down to the worn in cowboy boots. He's smitten, more than enough to put his best game forward for a chance at taking her home. He almost forgot she was there for Phoenix, almost, until a loud shriek pulls him out of his Sunny induced daydream. 

He turns to see Phoenix practically throwing herself out of Rooster's Bronco, the vehicle still in the process of slowing down as she throws herself out of it. The nametags and marker are thrust into his hands as Sunny moves to round the bed of the truck. 

The women move quickly, embracing each other with too much force. They would've ended up on the ground if Sunny hadn't braced herself for the impact of Natasha's body against her own. There is a mess of laughter and tears, the women pulling back to look each other in the face before pulling each other close again. 

Hangman watches as tears spill down Natasha's face, her eyes scrunched together. This is the first time he has seen Natasha cry. It humanizes her. Her hard exterior breaking apart, glimpses of her true self now visible through the cracks. 

The women rock back and fourth, spinning themselves around in a circle. Natasha is whispering to Sunny- Jake is too far away to make out the words. Then, his eyes catch Sunny's face, slick with tears but the look on her face is nothing but pure contentment. This is the first time Jake has ever seen a woman cry without pain marking the face. This repeats for a couple minutes, Hangman standing there next to the truck, watching women he barely knows, cling to each other like they might float away if they let go. Rooster's clapping Hangman on the back to signal his presence, pulling the Aviator from his thoughts. 

"Let's go get some beers, give them a minute," Rooster speaks, motioning towards the door. Hangman nods an agreement and they move towards the front door, leaving the women to embrace in the parking lot. 

"Oh my God, let me look at you," Phoenix cries, pushing Sunny back to peer into her eyes. They are full of tears, threatening to overflow as Phoenix's own dart around her face with her watery gaze before she is quickly pulling Sunny right back into her chest whispering 'oh, come here'.  

"Nash, you are gonna kill me if you squeeze me any tighter!" Sunny almost has to claw Natasha further away from her body, but when they finally separate, Sunny brings her hands up to wipe tears from her best friend's cheeks. 

Sunny lets her eyes dart around her friend's features, taking in the darkness of her eyes first. They are richer than the soil, with so much life within them, glittering gold in the sun. She brings a hand up to run her fingers over the slicked back hair on the side of Nat's head, right over her ear. Sunny traces the hair a few times, taking in the sharp corners of her brows, letting her eyes travel down to the sharpness of her jaw. 

"You're beautiful, Nash, you know that, right?" Sunny compliments, giving her friend's shoulders a squeeze. 

"Oh shut it," Nat laughs a bit, her cheeks tinted with a slight blush, "You are too," 

"Of course I am, what do you expect?" The women both stifle laughs, the joy continuing to bubble out of the pair. 

"Come on, lets get some drinks and I'll introduce you to Rooster," Natasha grabs Sunny's hand firmly, lacing their fingers together and pulling her towards the door, "How was the ride down with Hangman? Did he behave himself?" 

The women push into the bar and Sunny barely gets a chance to glace around before she is being pulled to the back of the large room, near an expansive set of windows with a perfect view of the sunset. Sunny lets her eyes catch the sunset for a brief second before turning back to Natasha. 

"He was fine, kept his hands to himself. I can't say the same thing about his eyes, but a fine man like him can look at me anytime," Sunny laughs as Natasha's face crinkles up in disgust. 

There is no awkwardness between the women. They behave like they have known each other for a lifetime, and in a way, they have known each other for some of the most important years of their lives. Sunny was there for every deployment and rank change and every course Natasha passed. Nat was there for Sunny when her first book got published, and then again for the next two. She has them on her book shelf, displayed proudly. 

"Hangman, seriously?" She fake gags, grimacing. 

"What? I said look, not touch," She nudges her friend's shoulder with her own, earning a half laugh from the other. "He's not my type, but it's nice to be noticed by a conventionally attractive man, okay! Even if he does look like some Mattel reject for the Ken Doll," 

"Who looks like a rejected Ken doll?" A voice breaks through the laughter. Sunny looks away from Natasha to see a sandy haired man, clad with a porn 'stache, looking too hot for his own good. He is looking up from the tabletop, magic marker in hand. 

Sunny leans over to whisper in Natasha's ear, "Oh, my God, what is with all the hotties?" The comment makes Natasha turn a light shade of pink as she stifles a laugh behind her hand. 

"Hanged Man does," Sunny replies simply, turning her attention back to the new man, earning a hearty snort from him in return. 

"Oh, Darlin', you wound me," Hangman places a hand over his heart, feigning pain with a hearty grimace. All he earns is three distinct eye rolls from the group as he turns to walk towards the bar. 

"I'm Bradley," The new man interrupts, holding a hand out towards Sunny, a wide smile on his face. 

"Sunny," She shakes his hand, making sure to squeeze it tight. 'Folks remember good handshakes', the words play in her head.

"I gathered as much," Bradley sends a look to Nat, a small smirk on his lips, "This one hasn't stopped talking about you since she found out you were making your way to Fighter Town," 

"That's okay," Sunny smiles brightly, "I talk about her all the time too, I'm sure the guys at work are tired of hearing about her." 

Natasha chuckles a bit, pulling Sunny in for another hug. Bradley puts his attention back to the tabletop where he is making his own nametag. The sight makes Sunny's smile a thousand watts brighter.

"I can't decide if I should draw a mustache or a dick on this," He speaks, gesturing down to the nametag, his cheeks sucked in in concentration. Sunny peeks over his shoulder, the nametag already reading "Rooster" in bold strokes. Nat looks too. 

"Dick, definitely," The ladies respond at the same time. 

"Oh my God, you better not do that all night," Hangman speaks, stealing the attention away from Rooster's new artistic endeavor. He holds four beers, two in glasses and two in cans, as well as a glass with dark liquid fizzing away inside. 

"I can't make any promises," Natasha informs, taking the glass and a beer from Hangman. She hands Sunny the glass, her hands working before her brain, almost like they have done this exact thing a thousand times before. Probably because she is used to handing the glass to Bob. 

"I didn't know if you drank, so I got you a beer, and a Coke," Hangman gestures to the glass, "It's a Pepsi, sorry, its San Diego, y'know?"

"Didn't you just say it was a Coke?" Sunny quirks an eyebrow, bringing the beverage up to her nose to give it a sniff. Definitely not a coke. 

"Ignore, him," Bradley interjects, "He's from Texas so all Soda is a Coke to him, then they specify. It's stupid," 

"Well, I don't drink, so the thought was very sweet, thank you Jake," Sunny nods, raising the glass to him, "However, the 'Coke' first thing is dumb," and then she turns to Bradley, "And counterpoint, so is 'soda', where I'm from, we call it a 'pop'!" 

"A pop?" The three Aviators speak in unison, sharing slightly bewildered looks with one another. 

"The only other lunatic that calls a soda a 'pop' is Bob," Rooster reminds the group, his explanation complete with air quotes. 

"Yeah!" Sunny is equally as bewildered at the thought, "Because the can makes a pop sound when you open it?" She explains it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The Aviators "ahh" in unison, but at very different pitches, Sunny isn't sure anyone believes her explanation. "I'm just glad it's a Pepsi, honestly," 

Hangman looks offended, his mouth slack, eyebrows down. 

"Texas," Rooster and Phoenix chime, each shaking their head side to side, much like one would while disciplining a child. 

"So, Nash," Sunny slings her arm over her best friends shoulders, bringing the cup to her own lips with the other hand, "Where is this famous Bob I am supposed to meet?" 

"Oh! He offered to stay back and finish the maintenance on the jet so I could get out here and meet you! He should be here in an hour or so," 

"He better be, he's usually the D.D.," Rooster sends a wink Hangman's way before he is reprimanded by Natasha. 

"Nope, don't even think about it, boys! He is our ride, remember? That was the deal, breakfast burritos in exchange for getting him off of D.D. duty this week," 

The boys whine about it, mentioning that the burritos better be worth it, and that's when Nat leans into Sunny's side, whispering that they just might have to make the boys breakfast burritos now. Sunny agrees with a roll of her eyes, pleased to be getting roped into the shenanigans right off the bat. 

"Or maybe, you guys can use your portion of the bet winnings to buy some burritos for yourselves," Nat speaks, the idea popping into her mind. "I really don't want to cook for your asses more than I already do," 

"Bet?" Sunny inquires. 

"Oh right, the bet, I almost forgot," Bradley speaks, a wide grin falling over his lips.

"I hadn't forgotten," Jake interjects, "I knew from the moment I saw her that we'd won,"

Sunny is even more confused now, looking at Natasha for some sort of clue. 

"You didn't tell her?" Jake asks, a bit surprised. Phoenix just shakes her head, a blush coming to life on her cheeks and over the tips of her ears. She hasn't blushed this much in a long, long time, but the warmth that spreads over her features also warms her heart a bit. 

"What did you do?" Sunny asks, grabbing her friends shoulder. The gesture is playful, but Sunny attempts to make a serious face. It cracks when the corner of her lip quirks up just a bit, alluding to the smile she is holding back. 

"We- the squad- sort of bet on if youwouldbehotornot" The last few words come out all together, mumbled under Nat's breath. She tried her best to cover them up, but Sunny wears a stern expression that reads 'try again'.

"We took bets on if you would be hot or not, since we didn't know what you looked like," Natasha explains a bit sheepishly, feeling a bit ashamed about it now. "In my defense, it was Rooster's idea."

"And you won?" Sunny asks. The group nods. "Great, then what's my cut?" 

"Your cut?" Jake's a bit taken aback, his eyebrows jumping to his hairline. A wide smile has broken his usual smirk, the joy he is feeling no longer tucked behind a well rehearsed exterior. 

"Yeah, my cut. You bet on me, and you won, because I am hot as fuck, and I think I deserve my share because I delivered," Sunny's explanation is nonchalant as she sips on her Pepsi. The Daggers break out into fits of laughter, their eyes squeezing shut, each wearing a bright smile. 

Sunny worries for a second as the Daggers stare at her, smiling. She worries she might have said the wrong thing, gone too far with a group who doesn't know her humor. 

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Natasha wraps her arm around Sunny, bringing her close yet again. The words comfort Sunny instantly. 

"You like me for a lot of reasons," Her elbow meets the space between Nat's ribs, "Including the fact that I have continued to put up with your shenanigans for the last ten years. Remember when you were twenty-six and you met that couple outside the-" 

Hangman and Rooster's eyes snap up to meet Sunny's, Natasha's hands coming up to conseal the words coming out of her friend's mouth. She is shaking her head violently, begging Sunny to quit talking, her eyes wide. Sunny tries to lean away from the hands on her face, a couple of words coming out unmuffled. 'Chevy' 'Cherry Flavored' and 'Inches' are the only words the boys could clearly make out, leaving them more confused than they began as Natasha's whole body flushed a deep raspberry, no doubt reliving the memory in her head. 

Sunny sat there laughing, her hands around her friend's wrists, keeping her upright as she began to cackle, her whole body shaking with laughter. Everything feels right between the four, the laughter ringing out through the air. 

[alewritesfics]

The New Diamond

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma Sister!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: will the queen finally name this season's diamond, and how is it gonna affect the Sharma Sisters...

Warnings: probably grammar mistakes, most probably is cringy

Series masterlist

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There is nothing more quite like the sweet scented smell of success.

But after taking in the scene from last night’s festivities, it is clear the season won’t be quite so fragrant for everyone.

The Viscount Bridgerton's own mama may have loudly declared her eldest son's lofty intentions to marry, yet I can not be the only one wondering if this former Capital R- Rake is, indeed, ready to flourish.

Perhaps the viscount, like the rest of us is simply waiting for the queen to finally name her diamond.

Or perhaps, this author, should take matters into her own hands.

Though, out of the many purportedly well-trained and bred hothouse flowers on display this year, this author must wonder if the more surprising choice might still be in store

Whichever darling miss receives such high esteem let us hope there is a suitor available of only the sharpest wit, lest his dry musings leave a young lady wilting like a parched rose.

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We are currently sat on the drawing room, suitors gathered around, waiting for their turn. We smiled as the two young gentlemen sat on the stood to leave.

“The younger ones would do, if the eldest just got out of the way” One of the men said, I frowned annoyed. Suddenly I no longer like them.

“The sister is dreadful” the other one said.

I looked at Lady Danbury who smiled tightly, holding a cup of tea to her lips. Before it turned in to a scowl.

“Not on my chair” She exclaimed at Newton, who hopped on her chair. I smiled as a butler came in and picked up Newton. Lady Danbury took a sip from her cup, sighing frustrated.

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“Can you believe it?” I exclaimed to Kate. We were getting ready for the ball. Edwina was somewhere along the house with mama getting ready, while I was waiting for my turn.

“the nerve they have to come into our temporary home and say such words” I huffed infuriated “the sister is dreadful, the younger ones are better” I mimicked the gentlemen from the morning

“Just thinking about it vexes me” Kate chuckles

“Bon, it is fine, truly” She assures me looking out the window “ I am not the one they want to marry, and thank God for it, these gentlemen certainly don’t know how to keep up a conversation” The door opens behind us, Lady Danbury entering our bed chambers.

“Your tea grows cold, my horses do not” She starts, my face goes pale “ Did you both plan to ride again tomorrow morning” we kept quiet

“I know all that goes in my home and since you insist on sneaking around, I may as well save us all the trouble, correspondence” She holds up an envelope “ Miss Sharma” she looks at me “ your mama told me she is ready for you” I nod and exit the room, wandering down the stairs to where Mama was waiting for me.

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We walk down the stairs of the queen’s ballroom, I hold on to one of Kate’s hand while Edwina holds the other. We walk to where the queen is standing, we bow in greeting, Edwina and I smiling as what we were told to always do in front of her.

“I do hope you are finding everything in town to your satisfaction, Lady Mary” The queen says to mama

“Indeed I am, your Majesty “ Mama answers

“This time around, that is” the queen sneers

“Perhaps your mother, would like some refreshment Miss, Sharma” Lady Danbury says smiling tightly towards Kate. We walk away and towards the other side from where they are.

We look around and something catches my eye, I smile once I saw the Viscount with his family. I stare at them for a few minutes before they walked off, the viscount catches my eyes before he turned, I turned my head away smiling.

“Miss Sharma” I turned my head to the side, the viscounts face greeting me “May I have the honor of you conceding me this dance?” He holds his hand in front of me, I smile cheerfully, going to grab his hands when another stops mine.

“Oh I am afraid she cannot, Lord Bridgerton ” Kate interrupts smiling falsely “ You see, she is-“

“I would be delighted, My lord” I hold on to his hand, ignoring Kate’s protests, making the Viscount smile triumphantly

He leads me to the dance floor, where we got In to position and started to dance.

“How nice of you to ask me for a dance” I tease Mid-dance

“What?” He feigned confusion “I cannot ask my lovely lady friend for a dance now,” he smirks

“Oh” I raise an eyebrow “ we are friends now?” I jokingly say as he turned me around

“Are we not?” I look at him from the corner of my eye “ It is not everyday I meet a lady such as yourself, who does not trail after me for my looks, title or money, why is it wrong that I want to have a dear friend in such person” I chuckle

“I was joking, of course I am your friend” he turns me around once again “Who else is going to be able to dance with you so your mama leaves you in peace once and for all, without expecting anything in return”

"Nothing goes past you now, does it?” He sighs

“Of course not, soon you’ll learn that” I smile “ Do not worry, it does not bother me, in fact, I am honored that after knowing me for 1 day, you already consider me a friend” we bowed as the dance ended, I turned my head and saw Kate beckoning me over, Edwina, Mama and Lady Danbury near her.

“Now if I may be excused, my sister is calling me” we bowed in farewell before we walked to the opposite side of each other, Kate looked at me questioningly once I reached her.

“I am going to marry him deedee” I suddenly say shocking her, I smiled happily.

“Oh dear God, no anyone but him” Kate shook her head furiously, I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Why not? He is a gentleman, so far I have seen he is a good person, and maybe he could come to love me, so why not?” I argued

“Because, Bon, he does not-“ Kate couldn’t finish her sentence as the trumpets sounded throughout the room

“Your presence is noted” the queen starts “ and your queen most appreciative, allow it to now be my honor, to present to you this season’s diamond” we looked at each other nervously as the silence was prolonged, making us restless. I saw the queen look between Edwina and I for a minute.

“Miss Edwina Sharma” I smiled happily for my sister as everyone clapped.

A man came and led my sister towards the queen. Edwina bowed before her. I once smiled before it faded once I saw someone I started to like walking to her.

“Viscount Bridgerton” The queen said “Have you yet met my new incomparable”

“ I am most grateful for the introduction, your Majesty, only hope I shall be afforded the pleasure of a dance” I heard him say.

Edwina accepted holding on to his hand, he lead her to the dance floor, he turned his head, catching my eye for what felt the millionth time this evening, I turned my head quickly, not sparing him another glance. Blinking my eyes furiously, trying to blink away the forming tears.

It is stupid really, it is a silly thing to be sad about, I did not even know him that very well nor were we courting or anything, he can dance with anyone he desires, even my sister.

“Oh Bon” Kate said sadly rubbing my shoulder comfortingly

“I am alright” I gave her a tight lipped smile. Lady Danbury approached us.

“I suppose I should thank you” Kate told Lady Danbury “ Although I wonder, why Edwina and not Y/n”

“Oh do not ask me that, I told her majesty either of the younger Sharma Sister would make an excellent diamond, it was her final choice” She said “ and it’s much too soon for that, you must know, the real work begins now”

“Indeed, there will be mire to wade through on behalf of my sister, to be sure, speaking of, where is my sister?” She looks around for her

“She is dancing with the Viscount” I nodded in their direction, Kate grabbed my hand and along with Lady Danbury we walked towards them when the dance ended

“Kate, Y/n” Edwina said

“Ah, Lord Bridgerton, I see you’ve met Miss Edwina, this is uh-“ Lady Danbury exclaimed

“Her sisters” The Viscount cuts her off

“Miss Sharma and Miss Y/n Sharma, my lord” he nods at her and turns to me, I gave him a small smile

“the Viscount Bridgerton is the most excellent dancer, perhaps I may learn a thing or two from you, my lord” Edwina compliments him, I looked between them both

“Would you join me in the retirement room, sister” Kate told Edwina, grabbing her hand and tugged her away.

I stayed behind with the Viscount, he looked at me once again, before Lady Bridgerton approached him.

“She is a lovely diamond, dearest” She told the Viscount while he watched Edwina walk away

“Indeed,” he affirmed “ She is who I shall marry” I felt a painful tug on my chest. I ignored it before I walk around him and after my sisters, who waited at the door. The viscount now watching me walk further away from him.

Long last, the queen has named her most precious stone

[wespersdaughter]

i hope you're happy - bridgerton sister reader

SOUR series | masterlist

Summary: When Anthony’s favourite little sister has her heart broken, he tries to help her feel better.

Warnings: reader is sad because of a man

A/N: Hope you enjoy, love you.

Lady Whistledown was a great source of entertainment for you and your sisters, especially Eloise. But you were quite certain you hated the woman. Well ‘hate’ is a strong word, you were very upset with her.

And to be fair, it wasn’t her that you were truly upset with. She was after all just the messenger.

You were actually incredibly heartbroken by Lord Ashby. The man who promised you the world in his poems. Who painted the most beautiful love story in his flower arrangements. Who charmed your mama at every party.

On the morning of 18 August 1815, she published the beautiful tale of Lord Ashby’s engagement to a beautiful young debutante, not by the name of Y/N Bridgerton.

Most mornings, Eloise would snatch the pamphlet first, skimming through it quickly before she brought it to you and your sisters. This particular morning, she skimmed through it only to stop and call for Francesca.

She pointed something out to her sister.

“What? What does it say?” You frowned, greeting your mama with a soft kiss on the cheek.

Violet looked to her other girls, “Enough of that gossip, it’s time for tea.”

“Mama, I need to show you something.” Eloise waved her closer while Francesca approached your brothers who’d entered the room.

“What’s happening?” Benedict sat down next to you, stealing a sip of your tea.

“I’m not sure they won’t tell me.”

“WHAT?!” Your oldest brother cried.

“Anthony!” Francesca chastised, trying to soothe him.

Finally, your mama turned to you, a soft smile on her face. The one she used when you’d fallen down the stairs years ago. The one that said ‘you’re about to be in pain but your mama’s here to help’.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” You handed your tea to Benedict, stomach churning.

Eloise looked at your mama, then at Frannie and Anthony, then at you.

“Lord Ashby’s engaged.”

“What do you mean engaged?” You practically ran at her, grabbing the pamphlet from her.

When you reached the portion where she wrote about his announcement your heart broke.

“The Earl of Suffolk was absolutely smitten with his new fiancée, a Miss Charlotte Templeton. This Author was rather surprised it was not the young Miss Y/N Bridgerton, considering their season-long courtship.”

You couldn’t read any further, handing the pamphlet back to Eloise. Your mama placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and whispered your name.

The wash of emotions running over you were confusing, you were heartbroken and bitter, but a small part of you was relieved. Another part of you hoped he was happy. You knew Charlotte, she would make a most wonderful wife and mother.

But the mix of everything plus your family’s concerned calls of your name led you to brush your mama’s hand away and run from the drawing room.

You bolted all the way to your room, ignoring the staff or your brothers or your mama and diving straight under your covers.

And you cried. Unable to express yourself in any other way, you sobbed and screamed and gave yourself a headache for the better part of an hour.

Once you’d calmed down a little, you heard a housekeeper peek her head in, then duck out and say something to someone outside.

Then the door closed.

“Sister, are you alright?” It was Anthony.

“No.”

“Well, I have some water for you, some tea as well.” When you made no sound or movement, he placed what sounded like a tray on your dresser. “Gregory offered some sweets if that will entice you.”

You buried yourself even further into your blankets, “I am perfectly content to stay here for the rest of my life. Tell Mama I love her.” The joke would have landed if you weren’t fresh off a crying session, voice still clogged with tears.

“First heartbreaks are difficult, I know.” He began, sitting near your feet. “I thought I would never get over my first.”

Your face poked out from your little burrow, “How did you?”

“I was treating myself and everyone around me poorly, because I was angry and I didn’t know how to deal with it. And once I realised how wrong I was, I worked through it. Then I met Kate and everything changed again.”

You smiled at hearing the genuine love in his voice. You sat up, “Now what’s this about Gregory’s sweets?”

“I knew that would work!”

[sumsebien]

Your Highness pt.5// Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: Y/N and Friedrich are still very much in the fairytale stage of their engagement. Of course, that is before the Queen gives her verdict on this match.

warnings: none

a/n: final part of your highness. the next part is “i’ll be in ruins for you” and it’s already up so check that out. oh and here is the duclaux piece i've been writing about. okayyy i’m too excited i am posting this right now :))))

When you and Anthony told Lord Wilson of your decision, he was happy for you and even invited you to visit his cottage should you ever find yoursef in Scotland. That alleviated parts of the guilt you felt for having strung him along. You wished him all the happiness and fortune before he bid you goodbye and left for his home. After that, you and the Prince had your last dance of the night, both of you trying to keep your giddiness to an absolute minimum as you spun around the room in each other’s arms.

It was utter bliss.

You hadn’t announced the news to the world just yet. So far, the only people who knew of your engagement were your family and Friedrich. And you intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.

Everyone was happy. Mama and Daphne were on board the moment they learned that you would remain close, most of the time, for them to visit. Benedict was just glad you had found your match and that you were generous enough to lend him that oil set. Colin was slightly sad that you’d not be living in a splendid castle in Prussia and allow him a tour whenever he made a stop on one of his continental tours. Little Hyacinth was most excited of all, always wondering what you were going to do the moment you became a Princess. Gregory usually answered before you could, resulting in a chase around the house.

As for you, you found yourself singing alone as you sketched in your notebook all the things that reminded you of Friedrich. And it had only been the morning after the engagement. You could not wait for noon to arrive so that you may see him again for the private tour of Somerset.

“Someone’s happy,” Benedict remarked, falling against the empty seat next to you.

“She has been singing all morning!” Eloise said, looking up from her book.

You smiled, ignoring them and went on with your humming.

“Miss Bridgerton?” Humbolt appeared at the entrance to the drawing room. “From Prince Friedrich, my Lady.”

“Yes?” You stood, leaving your notebook behind on the couch.

From behind him, Humbolt picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers, almost as tall as he was. You hadn’t even fully registered the impressive stature of it yet and Mama was already touching the flowers and sniffing them.

“Darling, this must be very expensive,” she said, pointing at the two-toned roses in white and pink, along with the vibrant pops of blue from the cornflowers. The bouquet was finished with gardenias, adding a wonderful aroma to the room almost immediately.

“But why cornflowers and roses?” Eloise asked and all of you turned to Mama for an answer.

“Roses are the national flower of England as cornflowers are to Prussia.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth just looking at him like so. You decided to sit down on the bench behind you and began to sketch him, “after that day, I went to the library and did my reasearch. Antoine Jean Duclaux, at the time he painted this, was only a student accompanying a more famous artist. While his teacher painted a Queen playing music, Duclaux made a portrait of her from the back. Perhaps so grief-stricken by the recent loss of her dear friend that she could not show her face.” The graphite version of Friedrich was coming to life and you had all the intentions of repainting it onto a canvas. You tried to capture his gentleness with the way his fingers curled ever so gently as well as his strength held mainly in his shoulders. The Friedrich before you had caught onto what you were doing by now. “You’re supposed to draw something that inspires you! That’s the only reason why we are here, my dear!” “I know! And I am doing just that!” He had no objections to remaining still and allowing you to complete your sketch. It didn’t take as long as you made him believe it would. The last five minutes you spent admiring him but he did not have to know that. After you were done, your family arrived to the Duclaux piece. Friedrich joined Hyacinth and Gregory and messed about in the room while you stood next to Benedict. “I don’t have favorites but if I did, you would be my favorite sister, you know that?” Benedict whispered to you when you came to stand by his side. “Do you love me? Or do you love him?” You motioned towards Friedrich who was now helping Hyacinth with her revenge. “Both of you I adore. For you have such fine taste in arts and in people,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder. You chuckled, about to tease him further when the your guide stopped talking. Through the door came a guard who cleared his voice, looking to Friedrich, “your Royal Highness, the Queen has requested your presence at once.” Before he turned to you, “And yours, Miss Bridgerton.” Dear readers, This Author believes she has uncovered a royal engagement made in secret. It is not hard to guess who the two lovebirds might be in this town. This morning a large bouquet of flowers was sent to the Bridgerton House. Large enough to mean more than just courting. Should the Prince have found himself a Princess so soon? And in someone other than the Diamond of the Season, as well. How very scandalous!

You remembered the nerves you felt waiting behind the tall white ornate doors with Mama and Daphne. You had tried your best not to mess up and in doing so, you paid no mind to your footing which resulted in you almost falling to the ground in front of her Majesty. It wasn’t as much of a disaster as Miss Featherington who fainted at her feet but it was enough to make a terrible and no doubt, lasting impression on her.

You just didn’t expect yourself to be here again. Behind those white doors, engaged to her nephew, you were going to go in and explain yourself to her the reason why you two had hid the engagement from her and have her found out through reading Whistledown. No amount of sophistication and elegance could save you now.

Before you were due inside, you tugged at Friedrich’s hand. He, for one, was not nervous at all, still smiling. The crinkles by his eyes and the dimples by his cheeks offered you a moment of peace. “And what would your mother say? When the Queen tells her that we hid an engagement from her?” you asked quietly. At this point, anything that could delay the possibility of losing Friedrich was good enough.

“She is in Prussia and should not be here until I ask her to. When she does, she will love you. And,” he gave your hand a final kiss, “we did not hide anything. I would never hide my love for you. Not from the Queen, not from anyone.”

You nodded before turning to Anthony who gave you a small smile. “It’s going to be alright, sister.” But you could tell he was nervous too from the ways he kept fidgeting with his fingers behind his back.

Echoing from inside the throne room were your names and suddenly the doors swung open, revealing the longest walk you’d ever taken leading up to the throne. The Queen sat leaning back, her watchful eyes burning into you three, but especially you. Beside her was an army of lady’s maids in extravagant gowns, Pomeranians in their arms. You kept your gaze low and made sure that you did not trip and that your curtsy was perfect.

So far, everything went swimmingly. Up until she opened her mouth. “Care to explain what this is, Friedrich?” She snapped her fingers and one of the servants brought forth a copy of Whistledown on a tray.

Friedrich held up his hand to stop the servant from moving any further. “Lady Whistledown was correct to assume we were engaged.”

She laughed, “You are engaged? To her?”

“I asked Miss Bridgerton to marry me last night and she has accepted. We were going to tell you very soon.”

“You proposed last night?” The Queen sat up in her seat, about to storm forward but stopped herself and slumped back, throwing a hand over her forehead, “do my opinions mean so little to you?”

Anyone in their right mind would be scared out of their wits by now. You were sure Friedrich was the only one you had ever met who wasn’t terrified of the Queen. You glanced to him briefly. He kept his gaze steady on her, still calm and collected. “I love her very much. As she loves me. She may not be what you are looking for in a wife for me but she is what I am looking for. I hope we may have your blessing.”

The Queen did not seem like she was listening or like she cared at all. You knew this was headed. Your hand brushed his, knowing the inevitable was on the horizon. He didn’t look at you, his eyes burning into the Queen.

“No. And you,” she looked to you and Anthony. Contempt in her gaze and venom in her words, “you shall leave.”

taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer ❤️

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the replies or through messages. love you.

[mrsbbridgerton]

A Hint of Gossip // Benedict Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Part 4 of the If You’ll Have Me Series

Word Count : 1614

A/N: I’ve collated A Gentleman’s Eye, A Second Chance and An Artist’s Touch into a series called If You’ll Have Me (link above) this is part 4 to that and I’ll post a final part soon :)

You’d never really liked Society. You’d always blamed it for your marriage to your husband, the late Duke of Pembrokeshire, but after your year of mourning and six months of sculking in the shadows of London Society you thought it best you re-emerge now lest gossip start. That, and Benedict had badgered you mercilessly about how boring evenings were without you there. So, you donned one of your favourite gowns, a simple deep plum silk with a fine cream lace, fixed your diadem and steeled yourself for, no doubt, the whole of the Ton’s glare.

You arrived at the Viscount and Viscountess Frankland’s ball purposefully as the first dance had already commenced as to not garner too much attention. Unfortunately, as you entered the ballroom you could hear the audible gasps of gossiping mama’s; whipping their heads around as you turned to look at them. Taking a turn around the room you diligently avoided the gazes of everyone you walked past, stopping at the food table to grab a glass of lemonade and inspect the canapes.

“Y/N! Darling!” you heard a smug, haughty voice bellow towards you. You turned abruptly to see Lady De Vere barging several poor ladies out of the way to reach you. “Lady Cynthia, how nice to see you again.” You gritted out, trying your best to mellow your displeasure. “Oh you poor thing, it was simply dreadful to hear that dear Percival had died.” She seemed to announce to the entire room making you rather suspect that if Baron’s wife had not been her destiny a life on stage might have been a calling. You smiled and hummed in general agreement as she continued to gesticulate wildly, blithering on about god knows what. A crowd parted behind her and you looked over her shoulder to see a formation of Bridgerton’s gliding towards you; lead by Benedict with Violet coming up on his flank, looking ready to take the boisterous Baroness out.

“Your Grace.” Benedict crooned, bowing to kiss your hand with a smirk. The Baroness was quickly shuffled out of the way with a glare from Violet. The Bridgerton siblings greeted you as one, sharing matching smiles as they glanced sideways to see Benedict still smiling at you. “Delighted to make your acquaintance Your Grace, Benedict has spoken very highly of you.” Violet smiled “I understand you met at an art exhibition: Benedict has always loved to draw, I understand you commissioned him for a portrait not too long ago?” she continued, wrapping her arm in his so he could not escape.

“Mother.” Benedict scolded. Their interaction made you smile and you rather suspected that the Dowager Viscountess was playing matchmaker for her son. Little did she know that she needn’t bother: Ever since those wonderful two weeks Benedict had spent at Pembroke House you were sure that you would not let yourself be courted by any other, should anyone decide to. The conversation continued around you and whilst you were glad of the company your eye couldn’t help but drift to Benedict. His eyes were already on yours and he held your gaze coyly as you shared fleeting glances over your party. “Mother” Benedict interrupted suddenly “I wonder if I might steal Her Grace for a dance. If you wouldn’t mind Your Grace.” He bowed again, holding out his hand before leading you to the floor and taking you in his arms as the music started.

“You look lovely this evening.” He growled out lowly, just into the shell of your ear as he spun you through the crowd. The shiver that ran up your spine when his hot breath hit your ear made you arch yourself into him. His warmth surrounded you, feeling it though the arm of his jacket and gloved hand cradling your lower back.

“So do you.” you smiled at him, looking up at him to see his trademark smirk on his face. You danced smoothly together around the ballroom, discussing the accepted subjects for a ball; the weather… yesterday’s weather, before you started to notice eyes on you. “Lady Cowper is staring at us.”

“Let her.” His deep voice becoming more serious as he turned you so you weren’t facing her.

“and Mrs Featherington… they’re all talking about me aren’t they?” your grip on his arm tightened as you became more aware of yourself again. It was well known that your marriage was not a loving one. You were the second daughter of a minor viscount with little dowry and a scandalous mother, and your husband was almost three times your senior with no other family: it fed the ton for months. Now you were back and it looked like some of the mama’s still remembered you.

“They do not matter. Whatever they say they cannot touch you now.” His soothing tone settled within you, calming your mind a little as you saw their glances and whispers from behind their fans.

“They can still talk.” After that you settled into a comfortable silence for a while. You let yourself get lost in the music, and in Benedict’s arms.

“Thank you for coming this evening.” Benedict said suddenly. You looked up at him to see his kind eyes already staring down at you, smiling before straightening back up again. “I would not have put you through this but marrying you would be most difficult if you were still in mourning.” He finished.

“Ha. I think mourning is a bit of a strong word for … Marrying me?” you said shocked, your head turned like a whip to see him smirking into the distance.

“If you’ll have me?” He whispered, spinning you in time with the music. The world seemed to blur around you as you just looked at Benedict. If you weren’t in the middle of a ballroom floor you were sure you’d jump into his arms that instant. Your whole heart felt so full at his smile: It had been so long since your heart had felt anything you were almost certain that it wasn’t beating anymore – but Benedict had brought you back to life in more ways than one.

As the music came to an end, Benedict had his answer and bid your leave with a kiss to your hand as he departed to inform Anthony of your news. You took this time to seek out a glass of lemonade at the buffet table. You were just inspecting the selection of hors d’ouvres when you saw Lady Cowper approaching from your side vision, Cow being the operative word.

“Lady Portland!” her shrill tone turned your blood ice cold and you plastered on a false smile once more before turning to face her. “or is it still Your Grace? I do apologise but your situation is an odd one” she laughed. Her insults were always obvious but just underlined enough for her to feign ignorance. Your brain whirred, trying to come up with some smart reply to send her one her way when you noted Lady Danbury approaching.

“Your Grace.” She curtsied minimally, holding her cane. You nodded a smile in her direction as she turned her sharp eyes to Lady Cowper.

“Lady Danbury.” She said rather shocked, knowing she’d been busted. “How lovely to see you, and what an exquisite evening it is.” Trying to change the subject.

“Thank you, Lady Cowper, and may I suggest always showing deference to the superior rather than presuming an equal, in polite society. It is always wise to remember one’s place.” Lady Danbury never missed a beat with her remarks and you struggled to stifle a giggle under the glare of Lady Cowper.

“Of course, Lady Danbury, I was merely asking. If you’ll excuse me.” She curtsied politely before drifting off to fuss over her daughter. Lady Danbury turned back to face you.

“How are you my dear. I see the second Mr Bridgerton is easing your passage back into society.” She smirked, looking over to see Anthony and Colin clapping their brother on the back.

“I am very well Lady Danbury; Mr Bridgerton is a fine dancer.” Your voice petered off as you followed her gaze, a broad smile coming to your face as you watched him smile.

“He painted your portrait did he not?” Danbury continued “Two whole weeks at Pembroke House?” her tone caught your attention and you turned to look back at her, stumbling over a response.

“Oh, um … yes.” You blushed. Just as you were trying to make her words sound less sordid Benedict returned to your side, greeting her with a bow as he placed a subtle hand on your lower back to calm you; thumb rubbing gently.

“Ah. Mr Bridgerton, I was just saying to her grace how chivalrous it is that you’ve taken it upon yourself to see her back into society.” Lady Danbury smiled, her knowing look clueing Benedict in to her inference. His brow raised as he nodded between the two of you and you heard his breath hitch subtly at her words. If Lady Danbury were to guess anything, she could quite easily cause a lot of trouble. A fact which, you were sure, she knew. She took in the silence from the both of you, enjoying the mixture of shock and discomfort on your faces as she eyed you like she was picking her next meal. After a moment or two of enjoying your distress she took a step closer, making sure only you and Benedict could hear her. “Just make sure, that when you send the invites, I am on your list.” And with those quiet words, she bid you good evening and turned to leave you both, sweating but relieved.

[sun-summoning]

please please continue your time travel fic where littlw sarada was send back in time and keeps calling sakura mama please🥺🥺

back in the day, whenever i got requests for that, i would just write other time travel ficlets. 

so like here’s genin team 7 + blank period sakura.

“sakura-chan looks sad.”

the woman before them tries to smile even though it’s pointless. “always so observant,” she teases, making naruto pout. “naruto, i’ve been separated from my husband through time and space.” her hand falls onto her midsection. “and i’m in a bit of a precarious situation.”

she’s been very tight-lipped about the circumstances that led up to this — both how this grown up version of haruno sakura appeared in their world and just how she apparently ended up married and pregnant. she’d given kakashi enough details to confirm her identity and gain his trust, so he’s currently speaking to the hokage while the three of them babysit her.

it’s not that sasuke doesn’t believe that she is who she says she is. technically, she didn’t even claim to be haruno sakura. but her features are fairly distinct and there’s just something about the way she carries herself around their team, relaxed and all too trusting.

“you have nothing to fear,” sakura tells the woman. “we won’t let anything happen to you.”

“yeah!” naruto agrees. he’s positively beaming. “i’d never let anything happen to my future wife.”

the woman smiles fondly, and sasuke feels a strange sense of dread just as naruto grows elated. 

“wait, so it’s true?!”

“as if!” yells sakura—his sakura—well no, not his. sasuke grits his teeth while sakura whips her horrified gaze over to the silent woman. “please don’t tell me you’re married to naruto?!”

the woman considers them for a moment with a quiet, calculating look. sasuke’s come to the conclusion that she’s at least a jounin. if she really is from the future, she’s smart enough to know she shouldn’t be sharing much information lest she alter anything. 

as her silence continues, sakura shoots a worried look his way. he glares back at her for presuming that the idea of her and naruto getting married and having a family would bother him at all.

finally, the woman tells them, “no, i’m not married to naruto.”

sakura’s sigh of relief is so loud it covers up sasuke’s.

naruto crosses his arms and scowls at sasuke. “don’t tell me you actually married that asshole then—“

“oh!” the woman yelps as she stands straighter, hands tensing over her belly. 

sakura looks at her in alarm. “what’s wrong?”

“hm?” the woman just laughs as she rubs the bump. “sorry about that. nothing to be concerned about. my little one just kicked me really hard.” she smiles at them. “would you like to feel?”

as sakura touches her tentatively and naruto does so warily, loudly proclaiming that stomachs shouldn’t move like that, sasuke finds himself annoyed that she cut naruto off. did she do that on purpose? of course she did. sakura’s intelligent and clever, so this woman is too. and so what if she said she didn’t marry him? it’s not like that was something sasuke actually considered a legitimate option. it’s not like he cared. it’s not like he wanted that.

“sasuke-kun?”

sasuke blinks and notices sakura standing in front of him. her hair is still cropped short, and he wonders why the woman grew hers out. sakura bites her lip, pink dusting her cheeks.

“the…lady…she’s asking if you want to feel the baby.”

“no.”

“oh…okay.” 

they continue their chatter, the woman carefully controlling the conversation to avoid any of naruto or sakura’s questions about the future. they wait for kakashi until they all feel a huge flare of chakra and tense. team seven all stand on alert, but the woman seems unfazed. sasuke frowns because the signature is unnervingly strong and yet somehow familiar.

“ah, that’s my husband,” the woman says, already gathering naruto into a tight hug. she moves on to sakura. “you kids be good now, okay?”

“what?!” naruto yells. “just what kind of badass are you married to sakura-chan? i gotta meet him!”

“i don’t think so.”

“but why? is it actually me and you just don’t want to tell me?”

“oh naruto.”

“sakura—“

sakura—his sakura—promptly punches naruto’s arm. “don’t be so nosy, naruto!”

“as if you don’t want to know!”

“of course i do!” she blushes, likely considering who her future husband might be. “but we just…shouldn’t.”

“exactly,” the woman agrees, coming to stand before sasuke.

he scowls at her, willing her to back off, but she pulls him into her arms anyway. he feels awkward with the way her baby bump protrudes between them, and even more so when she leans in closer to whisper to him, “you’re going to be okay, sasuke-kun.”

when she draws back, he eyes her warily. “what—”

“i’m glad i ran into you guys,” she tells them all. she casts a series of seals to teleport away so they can’t follow her. “thanks for keeping me company.”

[jesslockwood]

rakes | chapter two

pairing: regency!Harrison Osterfield x regency!reader

words: 2.1k 

warnings:  bridgerton s1 spoilers, swearing, mentions of sex

a/n: this took me forever to write because i wrote the ending ish and I have even the whole end part planned out lmao. now I just need to write up to it lmao. 

Please Reblog and Like if you enjoy!

series masterlist

You awoke startled, sweaty, and with tears streaming down your face. It had been from a nightmare, of your first season’s debut. You knew that things could not go as horribly wrong that night did, yet, you were afraid deep down it might. 

You could never forget the piercing scream that rang through your body as you watched helplessly, your worst unknown nightmare becoming real in front of you, and being able to do nothing for your parents. 

After sitting in your bed for what seemed like hours, you decided to get dressed at the start making a list of what you had to do in haste to get ready for the season’s rush.

There was so much to do and so little time, so you knew one worry could be put at ease if you planned it all out. At least then your mind would hopefully quiet down the thoughts in your head. 

Sitting near the window with it open, you watched the sunrise, wondering how your dear William was doing. You had left hastily, not even with a goodbye to him. It was too painful to be in Grosvenor square where all your fondest memories had been with your deceased parents. He was of course in those fond memories, yet it was too painful as you saw your father in him, and the man he became because of your father being a parental figure to him.

You wondered how he was handling being the earl, especially without the guidance or help of anyone. Especially since your presence is missing. You wrote to him all the time, yet he had no return address to send it to so you knew not much of how your dearest sibling was doing.

You knew not much of duty of being a man and running an estate and the burden weighed on society of being an earl, yet you knew the pressures and gossip and betrayal all too much so you knew it could not have been easy. 

You only wished as much that you could have stayed for William, yet you knew your body would not let you stay as the fear would crawl into your bones, rotting you into some sort of insane spinster. 

You stretched your body out after sitting for too long on the uncomfortable chair, deciding it was time to head on out- “the earlier the better”- you thought.

As soon as you stepped out into the hall you had turned, and collided with a strong torso, almost falling to the ground. Strong arms had caught you before you took a nasty spill. 

“Pardon me-” you whispered quietly, as you then realized the close proximity of you and the man that had caught you, his face very close to your own. 

He looked disheveled slightly, with his golden locks out of place slightly, and a small amount of dusting of freckles that adorned his face. His icy blue eyes had been staring into yours, almost too cold to even look into, yet you felt a sense of curiosity to capture the color of them in your mind. You also had noticed the closeness of your bodies in this very moment, almost too scandalous to even think of in society’s ton. 

“Apologies, Miss.,” he said with a slightly crooked smile that could make any woman melt at this moment. 

He helped you regain your balance on your own two feet, before heading towards the stairs, giving you a lopsided smile again, nodding at you, and went downstairs.

You were almost too stunned to move from the interaction. You had never been as close as that to a man in your life. It gave you a small chill down your spine, even thinking about him, the mystery man. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your maid, Lucy, was walking out of the adjacent room to yours. 

“Madam, shall I fetch the carriage?” she asks you politely, suddenly snapping you out of your entranced state. 

“Yes, we should get going.”

Arriving at the Bridgeton home was, interesting to say the least, in a good way. It had been around noon, after your stop at the modiste, picking up dresses for the most -well- dreaded season, and you had been welcomed by most of the Bridgerton ladies in the drawing-room, embraced by Violet, asking for your time heading to their home. It was quite a shock as the chaos yet love could be felt in the room, as whom you were assuming the two youngest were arguing of some hair ribbon, and two of the other elder brothers of Daphne’s were in some heated debate about god knows what, and one sister was writing in a journal of some sort as the other played the pianoforte. 

“Welcome dear, to our home. I apologize in advance for the chaos, we are getting ready for Elosie’s first season, and our masquerade ball.”

“No need to apologize, Lady Bridgerton. Thank you for letting me stay until William gets in tomorrow. I just couldn’t stay in the house alone.”

“Please call me Violet! And any friend of my family is welcome here. Children, This is Lady Y/L/N.”

“If I am to call you Violet I insist you all call me Y/n” she smiles warmly towards you, “Eloise, could you please show Y/n to her room, I’m sure she is but tired from her journey.”

She comes out of her trance of writing responding to her mother, “Of course Mama.”

As you walk out of the drawing-room with her she looks as if she’s in deep thought. 

“I have so many questions to ask of you! How were you able to travel? I only thought men such as my brother could do so, yet here you are!”

“Well when my parents passed, I just- well, couldn’t stay here, so I ventured off with what my bro- erm, cousin, William had given to me. I went to visit some other cousins in France and had gone off to other parts of Europe. It was better than I had ever imagined. But now my duty is to my family, and the adventure has stopped, for now at least.”

You had stopped walking when you reached a door, that you assumed was your room.  

“That is incredible, I shall wait to ask more of you, later on of course.”

“Why don’t you show me the grounds and I shall tell you more, right now, and you can tell me about yourself, Eloise.”

Her face lit up.

“I would quite enjoy that!”

After walking around their grounds, you had sat on the swings on a tree, telling her all about your adventures, and she told you about herself and even told you quite a bit about Lady Whistledown and her venture in trying to find the writer behind the pen. It had been a few hours, probably nearing dinner time, but you felt at ease with Eloise. At least, you knew you had a friend in her, that hated society almost as much as you,

“I cannot believe you went in the ocean on the beach! Most ladies here would assume it unlady-like!”

“Well, I am especially not one for lady-like behavior! Especially structured by vicious mamas!” you both laugh together at that comment. Oh how you both knew of the shocking behavior of the ton’s mamas. 

“I believe we should head in now, Dinner will soon be ready, and I can only assume you are starving since we only had biscuits earlier.”

You both get up stretching your legs lightly, before heading indoors. 

You felt warmth sitting at the dinner table, though not typical, it felt like they truly loved each other, and actually enjoyed each other as a family, something you had longed for from your own family, especially for William’s sake.

William had never felt like he belonged in your family, at least not fully. The warmth you and your parents tried to give to him almost did not get through his thick skull, that you had accepted him as an esteemed member of the family. You had always wondered if it was because his true father never accepted him until he needed him to fulfill his wants. 

“So, Y/n are you excited for the season?” Anthony cuts through his current conversation, to include you. 

“Probably something of the sort. I am quite intrigued to see how people have changed.”

“Well, most have not, especially the men.” 

You laughed slightly at that. 

“Well do tell whom to stay away from.” you joke.

“If you have not read the most recent lady Whistledown I assume you don’t know.”

“I’m not quite sure I’ve ever heard of a Lady Whistledown?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you. 

“Lady Whistledown is a gossip writer, under a pen name, whom, however, mentions people in the ton in name, by name in full.” Eloise cuts in.

You raise a brow quizzically. That was unheard of. 

“She mentions you in her most recent edition” Hyacinth mentions, before going back to throwing peas strategically when her mother wasn’t looking at her brother Gregory.  

“I’m sure Eloise has it if she hasn’t already shown you.” now you were fully intrigued. There was truly only one main thing you thought the writer could write about.

“She wrote about Lord Holland today, and might I say he is pretty dreamy.” Francesca pipes up, before earnings glare from Anthony and a kick from Eloise.

“Ow!” 

“If I didn’t do it, Anthony would have and he kicks harder.” 

You giggle at the family’s interactions. You only hoped you could have one as close as the Bridgertons.

“I see we are quite the entertainment for our guest tonight. I guess there’s no need for Eloise to get on the pianoforte. God knows I’m in motion for that.” Benedict adds before earning a kick from Eloise as well. 

“Ow!”

“Back to the topic at hand, I’d stay away from Benedict for certain.” Eloise says, which erupts you five into a fit of giggles, before getting your end of the table gets a hard stare-down from Violet, almost as if to say ‘behave’.

“So I'm assuming other than Daphne missing, the letter C, Colin, must be the one travelling? Daph did mention he would be writing me asking about the best places to travel.”

“Yes, Colin is the one travelling, but was the letter system too obvious of whom is which?” Benedict asks in an amused manner. 

“I think it’s adorable, and if you must know I find it orderly.”

“Don’t tell my mother that, or she won’t stop talking about how ‘Lady Y/n complimented her naming system’.” Benedict jokes.

You laugh before you see Eloise bringing out what you assumed was the gossip sheet. She hands it to you before you read it over, turning slightly pale at the mentions of your family so intimately.

Harrison had made it into town earlier that afternoon, only to be wondering why Mama’s, and Ladies alike- married or not- had been whispering and pointing at him. On the other hand, he had been met with a warm embrace from his wonderful sister Charlotte, and loving Mother, Phil, only to be dragged by Charlotte for her to tell him to read the latest Lady Whistledown, a woman he knew he hadn’t heard of, nevertheless thought he’d fucked. 

He however listened to his sister and her worry, before being shell-shocked by what was on the page. 

“Charlotte what the hell is this? And who the hell wrote it?"

“Lady Whistledown is but the biggest anonymous gossip columnist, and everyone reads it. Haz what am I to do if no suitors show interest when I am eligible for marriage? What if I end up a spinster?!”

“Char, I won’t let that happen I promise you.”

Harrison was determined to make sure charlotte never had to worry. She was the most lovely of any woman on the market and he would make sure she had a shot. 

“Wait Osterfield, you’re saying, you’ll Woo whoever is the most desired by the queen and marry her?” Tom askes very confusedly as to what sparked this in his bestfriend.

“Yes Tom, That is my plan,” Harrison replies before taking a sip of his drink again.

The two men had reunited at the Bridgerton’s gentleman club, talking over Harrison’s not so genius plan, according to Tom.

“Do you know how many mamas loathe even the sight of you right now? Especially because of Lady Whistledown.” Harrison’s face scrunches up, cringing at that. 

“Yes, I know already. But if I can just get in the good graces of Lady Whistledown, then I know any mama will turn around! maybe if I form an attachment with someone she might see that I’m serious about marrying. Don’t you have that cousin? Zendaya?”

“That’s a terrible idea, Harrison. Also, Zendaya is now going to be under my care according to my mother. She told her father, who is ill,  I’d watch out for her during the season to find her a suitable husband.”

Harrison gets a mischievous, conniving look on his face as the gears turn in his brain. “I said suitable Haz! Her father would have a heart attack if you came near her!”

“Fine, but can you at least convince her to show interest in me to the other ladies? So I can find a wife?”

Tom rolls his eyes before downing his drink mentally hating the idea, but agreeing to try for his almost brother,  even if he didn’t think he’d find a wife.

Tags

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[pathofcomet]

look at what you taught me

fandom: bridgerton series

pairing: colin/penelope

summary: Colin and Penelope have never been awkward with one another. Except for this one time.  (AO3) (book spoiler ahead)

In the beginning, when he travels, Colin can think of nothing else but the present moment: a ship under his feet, the lull of a carriage, the wide expanse of the world all around him. Whatever destination is coming next, if he is certain enough – if not, he’ll just make it up as he goes. The furious scribbling of his quill against paper, as he races to put down in words all his eyes take not but a second to admire. It feels like everything he never knew he wanted to do so desperately. It feels right.

Then, it becomes more difficult to return home, the more he travels. But soon enough, the travel starts to wear him down. He begins to look forward to when he’ll return home: despite his own mother’s incessant remarks, despite the brotherly arguments, despite having to see another sister married off. Even the most loving mamas trying to marry off their daughters to him seem somewhat adorable, if he is gone long enough. But the need to travel comes back, like an itch that won’t go away unless he scratches it away. He makes promises to his sisters – so that he can stay as much as possible, but he goes insane with anything more than a couple of months. He likes to believe that by now his family simply made peace with his many eccentricities, and simply paid the cook more when he was around.

He treasures the pockets of familiarity he gets when in London as much as the breathes of fresh air he gets when he’s away. He imagines he drives his mother wild, with all his coming and going across the continent. He knows what Lady Whistledown writes about him as well, and he’d strangle the woman himself, for alerting everyone of his return so punctually. Ambitious mamas are hard to fend off when you’re a young man, and it only gets worse the older he becomes, because the expectation of marriage dawns ever closer.

***

“You must agree, Colin,” his mother says, and at the mention of his name, he straightens in his chair, because it’s a terrible thing to be singled out in a conversation by Violet. “Penelope is quite an agreeable young lady.”

Colin agrees, both because he truly believes so, and because while his mother doesn’t need his confirmation, she’s kinder when she has it. Benedict, from the other side of the room, leans closer in his chair, so he can hear better whatever commentary their dear mother is about to impart with them.

“I dare say she’d make quite a suitable bride for you, really.”

All hell breaks loose. Benedict drops his foot to the floor with a loud thud, while Colin drops his sandwich, eliciting a swear for which he’s reprimanded by three of his sisters. And then.

“Mother!” Eloise shrieks, quite offended – which Colin finds surprising, considering that the two of them are best friends. “That is entirely too daring!”

Colin agrees, but he is too busy desperately trying to cough away the piece of sandwich stuck in his throat. Eloise, though still quite shocked, pushes her cup of tea in his hands, just to get him to make less noise. He downs it in one go, grateful to not have died of this particular cause. His heart, quite in override still, might provoke a heart attack soon enough if his mother does not change the subject.

“I believe you misremember your ABCs, dear mother,” he jests, because he does not want to take the idea seriously. “There’s one son for whom you haven’t found a bride quite yet.”

Benedict shifts in his seat, suddenly finding his newspaper way more interesting. But this time around, Violet doesn’t rise to the so delicious bait of teasing her second, not when her brain is so set on match-making her third.

“I don’t see why not. Isn’t she a friend to all of us?”

She stops, waits for a nod from each one of her children currently engaged in eaves-dropping on the topic.

“She’s polite, witty,” she continues listing reason after reason, all to which Colin is entirely familiar and now that he thinks about, has noticed himself, several times over, in Penelope. “And quite darling.”

He imagines darling is what girls who aren’t called beautiful get stuck with by kind mothers. He never actually stopped to even consider Penelope in any of these ways: she’s always been there, ever since he was in short pants – and that’s almost already half their lives. A fixed presence by the side of his younger sister, and a favourite of his mother, despite all the awkward wallflower tendencies in Penelope. But he doesn’t recall ever trying to pick apart her character, find her individual traits, even consider her as a… woman.

Colin is suddenly shamed by his wilful, manly indifference. Violet arches her eyebrow at him, clearly still expecting an answer.

“Mother,” he adds with a sigh. “I can promise you most certainly that I am not marrying any time soon.”

“One never knows,” she murmurs, though she allows him his momentary peace, and returns to her embroidery.

***

Only that his mother doesn’t stop with her comments, and they seem to grow in number each time she meets Penelope, which unfortunate for him, is often enough. The next morning, as she returns from shopping, she comments on how nice she looked in a dress of her own picking, and not her mother’s own distasteful choices. Each time any married sibling sends a letter, or comes visit, her efforts in getting Colin to marry are reinforced. She jabs at him with comments: morning, afternoon and evening.

And suddenly, Colin can find that there’s nothing else much that he can think about, but Penelope, and how exactly this insane idea came to live in his mother’s mind. So he starts paying attention.

He supposes parties would be generally more enjoyable if he didn’t have to attend them with his family, as much as he loves them. He can physically feel Violet’s eyes drawing across the room, and then settling, decisively, on his back, a list of eligible ladies for marriage already compiled in her mind, alongside one for dancing partners. Colin can already guess what her mother is about to tell him.

And he is right. She pokes at his elbow with her fan, nodding to the edge of the ballroom, where Penelope Featheringston stands, card empty and looking like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. Well, at least they do have that in common.

“Colin, darling,” and really, that’s all that Mrs. Bridgerton has to say to any of her children for them to do her bidding.

He makes his way across the room, trying his best to avoid getting roped into introductions by mothers or old friends alike. The faster he’s getting this over with, the faster he can return to the appetizers, and to a reconnaissance of the room of his own.

“Pen,” he says, and she startles, turning around to him with the widest of eyes, and the shyest of smiles. Huh, maybe she does look quite darling.

“Colin!” she exclaims, smoothing down a hand over her dress, and while it’s a gesture driven by nerves, it looks quite adorable.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?”

He extends out his arm, which she takes – an answer without needing one. And it’s quite a shame, to all the other men in the room, because Penelope is a wonderful dancer, and a most attentive conversationalist during them. She asks him of his most recent travels, destination known through the letters he sent to Eloise, most likely. He’s received his fair share of foot stepping and the occasional elbow in his side, but never with Penelope.

She animates with each step, blushing at his hand around her back, smiling at a spin. He never considered how soft her body feels under his fingers, underneath the thin material of her dress, but now he is acutely aware of her warmth seeping through. He asks of the books she’s been reading, which he knows are plenty.

And at the end of the dance, he finds that maybe dancing with Penelope Featherington is not such a tedious task, after all. And at the end of the night, he’s quite certain she’s been his best partner.

***

Art exhibitions are not really Colin’s thing, really. His interest lays in a world painted in words, not in colours. But considering the fact that one of Benedict’s pieces is to be exposed to the world for the first time, of course his entire family must be present. He is proud of his brother, for having found a path in life, having chased it so full of determination.

Colin’s good at chasing as well. He’s just been proven, more and more lately, that he chases only things that cannot last, which displeases him greatly. It doesn’t mean he is not entirely supportive of his older brother. What other reason he’d have to be present here, at all?

“Penelope!” Eloise shouts, gathering the attention of her friend.

Penelope spins around, red curls jumping with the movement, and she blushes. Colin is pretty sure she’s done this every single time he’s seen her, though maybe he now begins to understand why. She nods her head in their direction, all Bridgertons replying in kind. Eloise lets go of his arm, rushing instead by her best friend’s side, hands entangled in a most obvious display of friendship and affection.

Colin knows Penelope’s family – and so he knows there’s no such camaraderie between her and her sisters, as it can be so easily observed between himself and his own siblings. He’s glad these two have each other then: a friend is one’s most fearful champion.

He walks by his mother’s side, going through the gallery, the two girls just a few feet ahead. Eloise is the taller one, yet both their heads are bent together as they discuss, such an air of ease and comfort about them. His sister says something, and suddenly Penelope turns a bit more to the side, laughing: a sparkle of mischief in her eyes and the loveliest pull at her mouth. Now, Colin finds himself quite taken with her mouth, staring because he finds it impossible not to. The soft pink of her lips, as she’s worried at them trying to come up with a comment about this and that painting. The white of her teeth, as she smiles. Her tongue, wetting her lips, from time to time, as the rooms grow hotter, with all the people passing around.

He’s lucky that the art pieces all around are distracting enough that Penelope herself doesn’t notice. His mother does, though.

“Quite darling, no?”

And she looks at the exact same person that he is, and most certainly not at the painting of a fruit basket in front of them.

“Mother,” he warns, a slight squeeze around her arm.

“Oh,” she sighs. “You can’t blame me for caring enough to try.”

Maybe not. But he can blame her for opening his eyes to something that he, like everyone else – he begins to realize - didn’t really know was right there.

***

So Colin Bridgerton, like a true hero of his days, leaves for Wales. And like the caring gentleman that he also is, he uses one of his friends as his excuse. It helps – it’s quite a useful distraction, for a while, walking over the hills, staring out at the sea, spending evenings eating hearty meals with someone that knows him well enough, but not too much. And he writes in his journal, of his quiet passing days.

By contrast, the nights are not so quiet. While he tries so hard to forget the society back in London, at night there are no distractions: and even so, while asleep, he cannot really control his unconscious mind.

So Colin dreams: at first, the most innocent of shadows, people that he can vaguely make out. Then the visions get clearer, and longer, and more tormenting. It starts with Penelope’s smile, and that mouth of hers, which in a dream he can admit to wanting to desperately kiss. Which, in a dream, he has leave to do. He knows, upon waking, that whatever taste lingers on his tongue from his haze, it certainly has nothing on the reality, and hates himself all the more for it. Then her body, close to his, the press of her bosom hard against his chest, the roundness of her bottom in his palms. The next morning, he is in need of a change of bedsheets, like he is nothing but a horny teenager.

He is sure his mother must have cursed him. The dreams continue, sweet haunting that only makes the guilt rise in his throat. She’s his sister’s best friend, for heaven’s sake, and here he is, conjuring her up in his dreams with no respite! It’s like his body has decided to take an entirely different path from his mind.

Colin is miserable on a travel, for the first time in way too long.

***

Maybe that’s his excuse. He lacks sleep, and for him, the most pressing issue is, obviously, still the one of his marriage. Violet Bridgerton is popular for many things between her children, but her cutting words and sharp mind are not necessarily one of those, especially if used against one of them. Colin has found himself at the receiving end of exactly that for weeks and months now, so he is apprehensive when he is summoned back to London.

But if his mother has need of him, then he must make haste. Of course, the real reason is simply the news of Daphne’s new pregnancy, which is incredibly happy. Colin loves to be an uncle way better than he likes being a younger brother.

Especially since right now, Anthony and Benedict have taken the liberty to pick up with the teasing where their mother stopped.

“You left in the middle of the season,” Benedict remarks, and Anthony clasps his back in a way that only eldest brothers can do, when they require an immediate answer.

“Oh, very well,” and Colin actually scowls. “I needed to get away. Mother has been incessant with this bloody marriage thing.”

And because they’re his brothers, of course they joke and jest more, at his own expense. Everyone in their house knows that his mother has her eyes set on Penelope, and everyone in their house is already tired of her insinuations, Colin most of all. That doesn’t mean that Anthony, or Benedict are going to pass up the opportunity to rile him up on the subject. It’s been a while, after all, since they’ve had reason to laugh at him in particular.

It’s the damn lack of sleep, and all of these comments, which are entirely unwarranted and so overwhelming, despite his protests, that make him throw all decorum out the window.

“I am not going to marry soon, and I am certainly not going to marry Penelope Featherington!”

“Oh!”

The softest sound, really – feminine and delicate and belonging to the single person that he didn’t want to see right this moment. With much slowness, burning red with shame, Colin turns around to look at Penelope Featherington. And he knows: by the expression on her face, the haggard breathing with the desperate rise and fall of her chest, and her eyes, that he just broke her heart.

What he says right there on the spot, he cannot truly recall. A fumbling of stupid, empty nothings, apology too small, too unfulfilling, because Penelope draws herself up and protects the little bit of her dignity left.

And she leaves, so fast that he doesn’t have the time to do what he wants: follow her to clear up things.

Benedict punches him in the arm, quite terribly hard. It still doesn’t feel as bad as the gut-wrenching guilt building up inside himself, or the self-loathe that he so much deserves. Because just as he was beginning to make up his mind regarding how dear, truly, she has grown to be for him, he has done the worst thing a person who cares about another can do: hurt her.

***

He shows up at the doorsteps of her house the following day, surprised to find Penelope alone in the drawing room.

“As you might suspect, Mr. Bridgerton,” she says, when he inquires after her mother and sisters. “Many men before you have made the same declaration, though maybe in more private settings. I am afraid any hope of marriage left in this household falls upon my sisters.”

It is the fact that she doesn’t use his name that stings the worst, and makes him understand exactly how much harm he’s done with his extremely horrifying comment.

“Penelope, I am so entirely sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. You must believe me when I say I did not mean to offend you in any way.”

“Must I?”

He stops, opens his mouth: no words come out. She looks the picture perfect of peace, and maybe this is what should worry him the most. It is his first time seeing her as more than a blushing young woman, and suddenly maybe he realizes why she is Eloise’s best friend: she’s made of tougher stuff than what he’s been led to believe so far.

“What I said, the way I’ve said it. I’ve hurt you… It’s entirely intolerable and I apologize for the situation you’ve been put in because of me being an ass.”

Situation that she handled entirely fine, given the fact that he so singled her out in a market of numerous others undesirable young ladies. She sighs at his curse, something that sounds like Colin, that has the tiniest of fondness in the tone. Something in his chest tightens with fondness of its own, for this woman in front of him, who has been nothing but a most beloved friend, to his entire family – and to him, as well.

“I…” she stops, taking in a deep breath, her hands shaking. “I already told you, no feelings were hurt. You’ve made no remark that wasn’t already obvious to everybody in the ton,” she says, and she waves in the air the latest number of Lady Whistledown.

Of course, even when he misses it, his sisters and his dear mama are quick to fill him up on the happenings of the season. In today’s fresh paper, Whistledown has written down that were the two of them ever to get married, she’d have to give up writing altogether – such an unfitting match never having been seen before.

“You can’t possibly believe those writings,” he says, suddenly offended at the paper, though he’s not quite certain on whose behalf anymore.

“I didn’t, until –”

Until he has reinforced them all the more, with his declaration. Colin suddenly feels himself flush from head to toes, at being so openly chastised. His brother Benedict has already told him, that he has cruelly overstepped most demands of polite society when he lost his temper in that way, in such a public place.

“I really do apologize, Penelope.”

He hadn’t realize how much he enjoys saying her name until now, when he so desperately wants her, needs her to say his own. A sign that things between them can be mended, move from the terrible awkwardness between them.

“Pity doesn’t feel that nice to those who already know how pitiful they are, Colin.” His gaze snaps up at her, and finds her already smiling at him – quite charming, even if so utterly self-depreciating. “Though you are forgiven.”

He bows at her in thanks, lower than he’s gone in months, if not years, just to show how entirely grateful he is. Of course, Colin is yet too young, rich, handsome and charismatic to know the meaning of her words, and too stupid of a man to try and understand where she is coming from.

But he will, in due time.

For now, maybe his favourite sight to see during his travels becomes the shores of England, when returning home. Because home has just started to mean just a tiny bit more.

[luthienebonyx]

First Lines Meme

Tagged by @nightreaderenigma - thanks!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Note: I’ve noted the fandom for stories other than JB.

1.   "How much is he paying you?" Sansa asks bluntly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. (Doubt Truth to be a Liar, Jaime/Brienne)

2. The small, knowing smile that young Melbury sends Ferdy one night at Limmer's is almost nothing, but Gil notices. (Phthonos, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy)

3. Hero did not mean to intrude on Gil's and Ferdy's privacy. (Euclidean Geometry, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy, Sherry/Hero)

4. The marriage of George, Lord Wrotham, and Miss Isabella Milborne was widely regarded as the wedding of the Season, though it was not nearly so illustrious a match as might have been expected for a young lady known far and wide—in the gentleman's clubs at least—as the Incomparable. (That Greek Thing, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy, Sherry/Hero, George/Isabella)

5. It is said that the storyteller shapes the story, but I have found it equally true that the story is shaped by its intended audience. (Twelve Days, The Queen’s Thief - Megan Whalen Turner, Kamet/Costis)

6. It takes Brienne less than thirty seconds to decide that she doesn't like Jaime Lannister. (History Never Repeats, Jaime/Brienne)

7. Brienne hesitated before pressing the intercom button. (The Personal Touch, Jaime/Brienne)

8. Rodney shivers as the puddlejumper draws near the surface. (Siberia, Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney)

9. Brienne was quiet as the plane took off, looking out the window as the Gold Coast fell away below them, and they climbed steadily until they'd reached cruising altitude. (The Last Day of Christmas, Jaime/Brienne)

10. They probably wouldn't have noticed the tent if Addam hadn't staggered out of the Gravitron and been noisily sick all over Jaime's trainers. (A Doom Unescaped, Jaime/Brienne)

11. The London Season has been the focus of all well-connected and ambitious British Mamas—as well as rather less well-connected but even more ambitious British Mamas—of hopeful daughters since the Eighteenth Century. (An Ever-fixed Mark, A Countess Below Stairs aka The Secret Countess - Eva Ibbotson, Ollie/Peter)

12. It surprised Brienne how quickly she'd become used to the idea of summer in December. (On the first day of Christmas (my true love gave to me), Jaime/Brienne)

13. Sansa doesn’t understand. (Life’s Not a Song, Jaime/Brienne)

14. Brienne awakes with a shiver, not sure where she is or what's going on, but instantly awake like the soldier she still feels herself to be. (Beloved, Jaime/Brienne)

15. The spring that follows the winter-that-might-have-lasted-forever is fleeting, and all too soon they're in the midst of an almost unlooked for summer that feels not quite real. (Is this the way love’s supposed to be?, Jaime/Brienne)

16. They arrive on Tarth after one of the shortest and most violent spring storms in living memory. (Walking in the Sun Once More, Jaime/Brienne)

17. Brienne didn't even wait until Jaime had finished closing the bedroom door behind them. (After Party, Jaime/Brienne)

18. Jaime awoke to the familiar sensation of a head pillowed against his chest. (Interlude, in Sunshine, Jaime/Brienne) 

19. "Coffee, coffee, coffee," Brienne said, scanning the shelves with a look in her eye that was getting wilder by the second. (The Night Before the Night Before Christmas (aka the Long Night), Jaime/Brienne)

20. Brienne awoke slowly, disoriented, and yet not. (Knights and Knaves, Jaime/Brienne)

Patterns: Well, the main one is that I like to open with a statement, rather than more general description or dialogue, which is something I was already aware of. Two out of twenty start with dialogue, which feels about the right ratio for my fic more generally.

2, 3 and 4 (which are a short series starting with the story I wrote for Yuletide last year) and also 5 and 11 are for book fandoms, so I was trying to capture the canon style with them. This means that they’re less obviously ‘me’ than the others. I seem to tend more naturally towards shorter opening lines than the sort of wordiness that you see in 4 and 11.

Three of these describe people waking up and... yeah, guilty as charged. I know they’re not the only stories I’ve started with that particular gambit.

Apart from that, the only other thing of note is that 9, 12, 18, 19 & 20 are all from my Aussie coffee ‘verse, and 13, 14, 15 & 16 are all from my After Everything canon divergence AU series - so they’re not ‘real’ beginnings in the way the stand alones are.

Oh, and one more thing: I’ve included 8 because it’s among the 20 most recent stories I’ve posted on AO3, but I actually wrote it back in 2005. It’s interesting to note how easily it fits in with the more recent stuff. I think it’s pretty clear that while my writing may have changed in some ways over the years, my thought processes haven’t changed much at all.

Favourite:  While 10 makes me grin (it’s a prologue in which Jaime and Addam are aged 13, in case you’re wondering!) I think my favourites are 4 and 5, because I loved writing both of those stories so much and part of that was capturing the style and feel of the canon. I think that comes through clearly in both of those opening lines.

My favourite opening line of mine remains a story from long, long (about 20 years) ago though, which begins: There were people on the ceiling. I don’t think I will ever top that one.

Tagging: I think everyone I can think of has already been tagged, but if you haven’t been tagged and would like to do this meme, consider yourself tagged by me!

[lady-plantagenet]

What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 3: GOOD Grief! (we finally have a good episode on our hands)

To all those of you keen enough to have come back for another segment of ‘what hasn’t already been said: TSP’, as opposed to have just been scrolling when you see this - welcome back! (Scrollers you too <3)

Drawing of Thomas More’s Son AKA who Margaret Pole at this point wants to be the step baby momma of ;).

To anyone who’s seeing this for the first time: what this is a list of observations, jokes, reactions and criticism which occur to me upon a rewatch. I wait every week until Saturday to do this so that I have had my fill of scrolling through the tag and aggregating what has already been said. I tried doing a whole spoof (here where I gave up 10% in) but tbh a) I don’t know the history well enough b) it’s more time consuming than I thought and c) this series is just not as funny or as crazy as TWQ, so it’s untenable. Having said that: This is not a hatepost. I’m not hatewatching this series and nitpicking on purpose but expressing my honest views and trying to find the good in it as well as the bad.

Without further ado...

First Scenes: 

LMAO the way Wolsey suggests they break their alliance with Spain is freaking hilarious because the actor delivers the lines as if he were a high school girl making a personal attack by suggesting the prom change its theme to 70s disco to the chagrin of the peppy up-and-coming rival.

Also @ Henry VIII looking like the peppy up-and-comer’s bff and shy stan with that pencil bite and small smirk when Catherine loses her cool against Wolsey.

I’m sorry... who is Henry married to again?

Also what is Margaret Pole doing at the council meeting?? I’m not saying I don’t like it.

Margaret Pole warning against certain repetitive thinking creating madness :(((

Attempted Naked Twister:

Oh Catherine, what is with you and all the other STARZ protagonists and that weird politcky bedroom talk? Who actually finds this sexy?

‘Catherine you are unnatural’ ooof that line delivery was somehow haunting.

Was the whole ‘I can’t be rushed you are off-putting with your overpowering’ a callback to Arthur and Catherine? Apparently there’s another writer for this episode so I won’t put all subtly past them. 

Scotland:

‘Shitey men’ asdkjashd

Look I’m tired of all this ‘my children won’t be safe’ line getting repeated. Look mate, murder of royal infants and children was not exactly a common occurence, even in cases of deposition. The Princes in the Tower are an exception to this but a very infamous case for that reason. Child murder was extremely taboo. In situations like this with an infant kid, no one is going to bother murdering the babies and taking their thrones, the lords will just vie for power and make themselves de facto rulers and oust the queen. It’s not a question of safety but a question of holding power. Stop giving all women characters perma mummy brains.

Maggie being all caring:

‘Barnaby’ *scoffs* ‘Such an English name’ - OH MAN 0_0 is Catherine mocking them for trying to adapt ? Like I know it’s meant to show her envy for Lina, but it’s coming out all messed up.

Our girl Maggie’s smile screams I’m beating your ass in chess.

Anyhow this is the least histrionic we’ve seen Catherine so far.

Chaplain vs Catherine:

I’m interested how Catherine will feel at Stafford’s execution given that I have noticed this show build up to a friendship between them.

Why is everyone laughing at the whole ‘will you delight us with new schemes’ line was not that funny?

LMAO at Thomas Boleyn’s attempted brown-nosing. 

You know what? Ruairi is a decent actor. When he says ‘so you admit it? you lost the child because you tried to be a man?” the actor conveys Henry’s troubled mind, lowkey scare towards Catherine and bewilderment all in one. The way his eyes do not move but just widen emotionlessly also gives this sense that he is being manipulated (which I guess they are going for with Wolsey). Then the whole choir music in the background.. I don’t know.. I’m liking this, it’s creating a vibe of a king of haunted and increasingly paranoid Henry. I’m sure they are going for that, so good.

Ursula Pole and Mama:

Maggie Pole say ‘riches don’t keep you safe’ with tears in her eyes :’(. Please tell me how this is not her thinking on her parents and granddad Warwick and what befell them ;’(.

I find Ursula refreshing actually, don’t get those types of heroines often. But they are making her similar to a gold-digger, an exhalted marriage was first and foremost considered a thing of honour. Noblepeople wouldn’t speak in such mercenary terms regarding their marriages. 

Post Mary Defiance:

I love the ‘horse’ nickname from Brandon n’awwww

Also just realised what made TWQ so atmospheric - that wierd ‘oooo’ sound effect in the background when a character was being paranoid or worrying. They are using it during Henry’s ‘How is it that I have no sons?’ and it is just... so effective.

Catherine calling them ordinary children... she just keeps striking me as more and more classist. Like ok, I know every royal was... but still, I thought she was meant to see Lina as a friend and equal despite her race and status. To add the race element, this kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Also it is so clear by the end when Catherine states how the king is upset with her, she expects Maggie to ask her about it.. but she doesn’t lmao.

Back to Scotland until Sexy boy fencing:

I love me this soft boi. Angus <3 <3

I like how they address that some men don’t really like killing and that violence isn’t inherent in a man’s nature.

Oh man, are we supposed to look at Lina’s house and deplore the impoverished conditions? It would go for at least 3,000,000 pounds in today’s property market?

Is Catherine being particularly classist again with ‘Why u not becoming a butcher Wolsey, ey?’. 

Though I will admit the ‘but giving meat to the poor is also good’ was one of her only smart comebacks.

Just realised, Catherine’s pink dress pretty as it is, looks straight out of the 1570s... why?

Montage and After:

You guys are right, there is this weird longing between Henry and Wolsey lmao. It is actually insane.

So basically Catherine is officially depressed

OOOFF we have Stafford as regent instead of Catherine. (edit: I suppose it’s cause they go to France which they didn’t historically? Also if Stafford is at home then what is his son later doing in France, why would he be there without his father. This show didn’t think this through)

Meg Singing:

An impassionate speech is not too anachronistic. But despite the title of this post (what hasn’t been said) I will reiterate that 16th century and Medieval people’s problem wasn’t that they were ashamed of their grief and didn’t cry. In fact, crying was somewhat more socially acceptable then than it even is now! Even manly men like Arthur were written as crying in literature such as Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. Obviously you couldn’t go overboard, but in truth crying was indeed often too performative rather than hidden too much behind doors.

Pole and More UWUWU in France and after:

I LIKE THIS INTELLECTUAL FLIRTING

It’s nice to see a depiction of romantic feelings between mature and level-headed subjects.

God Mary Tudor is so beautiful in this scene jesus. and the music when she was being presented was also very beautiful.

Maggie Pole getting given ‘a modest income’ yeah... she was one of the wealthiest peers of her day.

Also Maggie’s lady cousin not lady aunt Frost!

‘shaking of the sheets’ lmaoooo

William Compton cracks the hell out of me. I love this guy. He is just so creepy and twisted yet super keen and friendly. ahaha He looks like a riot, I hope we see him more. lmao tiles.

Also this palace feels very anachronistic almost 18th century-ish.

I like the Louis and Mary sequence, it’s nice seeing him trying to make her feel less scared, but OMFG when he lay on that chair.. for one second I thought they were trying to kill him off already.

Scotland: ‘Love is an open doooooorrrrr’ + Last Scene:

I ship Meg and Douglas ahhhh this soft boi x strong woman match is everything Henry and Catherine could have been.

I wonder... why is Lina speaking in Spanish more than Catherine. hmmm Are they trying to foreshadow Lina’s eventual return home and how Catherine become a true englishwoman?

Conclusion:

7.5/10

I cannot in all fairness believe it. This was actually decent. I’ve given up on historical accuracy long ago so by this point I’m focusing more on how it stands as as drama. I mean, TWQ was also a flop when it came to grasping the complex issues of that era but why do I feel compelled to rewatch it every year? Because it had atmosphere when it came to acting, music, certain aesthetics (though the costumes let me down often). It felt adequately gothic and dark, yet bright and jewel-lish when it had to be, sometimes both at the same time. Some one-liners were also memorable etc...

So far TSP 2 did not have any of this. Everything felt way too off and anachronistic. But not even consistently anachronistic. The music was also often very meh (though I just noted the absence of the spanish stringy theme that kept playing in season 1 - I guess I understand why), the dialogue very clichéd (‘alright lads let’s throw in the words: king, crown, power, fight, battle + other buzzwords and we have ourselves Shakespeare’) and so on... but I saw a change in this episode and I couldn’t initially point out what it was.

Upon rewatch, I identified some of the improvements (noted above) but above all: The producer was different! Boy does it show. Unfortunately, I think she is only for this one episode which really sucks. Come back! There is more chemistry between the couples, less predictable interactions, pervy Compton, cinnamonroll Douglas, better music, more scenic shots (e.g Douglas and Margaret in church) e.t.c. I hope it will match the rest of the STARZ productions in getting better towards the end.

Look it’s no masterpiece. But I’ll give credit where it’s due because at least this time it didn’t leave me feeling wanting and unsatisfied (if that makes sense).

[flurrys-creativity]

Balter - Halloween Special

to balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment

Pairing: Jung Hoseok (BTS) x Fem!Reader; Genre: Slice of life, Parent AU, Idol AU, fluff, halloween, humour; Rating: sfw, PG-13; Warnings: The child gets scared at one point; Wordcount: 2.877

Synopsis: Baby’s first Halloween!

A/N: This is the first of the many Halloween specials this month.. It’s from the “Balter” Universe, a little something since the original one shot even surpassed 100 notes.. so I wanted to gift you guys with this special as a big thank you for the love you showed towards Balter.

“Okay sweetie, you are finally old enough for Halloween,” you said with a small smile on your lips. You held the hand of your daughter and guided her from the living room to your bathroom. “Dada is working again but he promised to come with us as soon as he gets off.”

“Dada!”

“Exactly and your uncles will join us too.”

Your daughter giggled in excitement, hopping now more than walking. You watched her little form next to you with a loving smile.

It was absolutely endearing to see her already dressed in that little kimono in red and white and that little fox tail swaying around behind her. You even added small ears as little clippers in her hair. 

You yourself wore a self made outfit resembling the Painted Lady from the Avatar series. The only thing missing was your make-up.

While you didn’t plan on painting your daughter's face as well, you knew better than leaving her alone while you did your make-up.

You sat her down on the now baby proof toilet before you rummaged through some drawers searching for your make-up.

“Dada and your uncles will have costumes on too. Just like you and mama,” you told her, glancing at her every now and then. For a moment you wondered if she was going to get scared as soon as she would see them.

“Too, too.”

With a surprised look in your eyes you turned to your daughter, waiting for her to clarify her statement.

She had sparkles in her eyes and made grabby fingers towards your make-up and your painted face. “Too, too.”

You pointed at your face in question. “Are you sure?”

Immediately she nodded in enthusiasm, repeating the same words again. “Too, too.”

“Okay, I can do that. I just need to finish mine, yeah?” You returned to quickly do what you just told her, doing the last red streaks of paint.

“Now, let’s do your make-up, sweetie.” You kneeled in front of her, raising your hand with a brown kajal. 

As soon as the tip of the kajal touched her nose, she squealed loudly. 

“You need to stay still, baby!” You gently told her, placing a finger under her chin. Carefully you painted her a heart shaped form on the nose and a few lines as a mouth. You then changed the brown kajal with a white one to draw a few whiskers on her cheeks.

As soon as you finished you grabbed her and hoisted her up on your hip, walking over to the mirror. “What do you think, sweetie?”

She turned from the mirror back to you and grabbed with both of her little hands your face. For a moment she stared with such an intense gaze right into your eyes. “Too, too”, she said again, as if she was telling you she needed more.

You winced slightly, fearing your own make-up was now smudged thanks to her hands. “You do know we need to wash all of that off again later, right?” You asked even though you knew she wouldn’t really understand what you meant.

Instead you sat her back on the toilet and grabbed the red paint, drawing two twirls from the bridge of her nose over her forehead to each side of her temples.

You checked her hands and cleaned them from the red paint she got from your face. Once again you hoisted her up on your hip and showed her her reflection in the mirror. “What about now?”

Immediately she started to clap her little hands and laughed airily. “That good?” You teased her, poking her sides gently. “I need to retouch my make-up now and then we can go to dada!”

You let her down to the ground and wiped away the few smudges from your face and filled in the holes in the paint.

Satisfied with your make-up you cleaned everything again and put the utensils back into the drawer. 

“Ready to see dada and your uncles?”

“Ya!” She squealed and ran out of the bathroom.

You heard her steps rushing towards the entrance before they stopped and you heard them running back to you. “Mama!” She grabbed your hand and pulled you with all her might behind her.

You chuckled slightly, seeing her eager state. After you helped her into a thick jacket and grabbed one for yourself and the iconic hat the Painted Lady wore for your costume, the both of you walked out of your apartment and down to the garage and your car. You safely secured her in her seat in the back and then drove to the agency.

“Dada, dada!” Your little daughter sang while she skipped in front of you to the elevator of the agency.

You smiled and helped her to press the button to close the doors as soon as the both of you stood inside.

While her eyes were trained on the digital numbers shifting over the door, you took the chance and placed the straw hat on your head, the white veil falling down until your shoulders and shielding your face successfully.

“Please take mama’s hand when we walk through the agency, okay? I don’t want to lose you,” you said in a serious tone, holding your hand towards your daughter right before the doors of the elevator opened.

The minute both of you stepped out of the elevator you could feel all eyes on you. Even though it was Halloween barely anybody was dressed in costumes. You saw a few decorations like bats or spider webs but nothing much.

“Dada, dada!” Once again your daughter demanded you to hurry, wishing to see her dad even sooner. Again she pulled you behind her with all her might.

“Yes, yes. I’ll hurry, I’ll hurry,” you chuckled, stumbling behind her. 

Whenever she wasn’t sure where to go, you pointed a hand in the right direction letting her take over the lead again afterwards.

A few staff members greeted you, cooing at the sight of the little Kitsune running through the hallways.

It didn’t take you long to reach the dance practice room and your daughter didn’t even hesitate to open the door. She let go of your hand and stormed inside the room, ignoring the loud music that blared through the speakers.

You followed her quickly, glancing through the room and taking in everything you saw. The room was decorated with spider webs and bats dangling from the ceiling, near the speakers were all the bags of the boys piled up and the boys themselves were fully costumed in front of the mirror. You immediately recognised the old costumes from their “War of Hormone” Halloween Special and grinned brightly at the nostalgia rising up in your heart.

The boys stopped their dance practice and turned around to your daughter, who had stopped dead in her tracks as well.

You could nearly see her fear rising the second all eyes were on her. Though she was still rooted in place, not able to move out of shock. 

It didn’t last long though because Taehyung, excited to see the both of you, cooed at her and took big steps towards her.

An ear piercing scream even louder than the music sounded through the practice room and your daughter turned around, running towards you.

Maybe you should have warned her that her uncles were heavily made-up even more than the both of you.

You scooped her up in your arms, holding her tight against your body. “Aww, sweetie. It’s alright,” you whispered gently into her ear, swaying your body from side to side.

“You scared her!” Jin scolded Taehyung and Yoongi added a swat to the back of his head.

“Is she alright? Should we take off the make-up?” Jimin asked you while keeping his distance from you and your daughter.

You nodded with a small smile, forgetting that the guys won’t see it through your veil. “Just a little shaken.” You crouched down again until her little feet touched the ground. 

“Baby?” Hobi asked tentatively, taking a step towards you.

“Just a second,” you told him before you turned your attention back to your daughter. “Could you let go of me for a second? So you can come under my protective veil?”

Even though she still hiccuped, she slowly let go of your neck and even leaned back a little.

“That’s my girl. So brave.” You lifted the veil and placed it behind her, kissing her tear stained cheeks. “Did uncle Taehyung scare you?”

Confused, she looked up at you, her brows furrowing slightly.

“Oh, you didn’t recognise him? Yeah that was a hard one, I’ll admit that. Maybe you recognise someone else?” You asked, tilting your head slightly and shifting your gaze to the seven men behind her little form. “Hmm, let’s see. Maybe uncle Googie? Noo, he has just as much make-up as Taehyung. Oh, how about uncle Yoongi? Can you recognise him?”

Carefully your daughter turned her head but quickly pushed it back against the crook of your neck, shaking her head vigorously.

“Hey sweetie, it’s okay. You��re safe under the veil. Nothing can harm you. They won’t even see you looking.” You slowly stroked her hair, waiting patiently for her to deliberate your words.

When she nodded you turned her slowly around, hugging her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder. “Open your eyes, sweetie. How many people are standing in front of us? Let’s count together okay?”

You grabbed her hand and pointed at each man, whispering the number into her ear. “Seven people. That’s just as many people as your dada and your uncles. Do you see that man in black and white stripes? He’s a prisoner, the prisoner of my heart. That’s dada. Do you see dada?”

You waited with her until her lips slowly formed the syllables “dada”.

“Yes, dada. Shall he come nearer or do you want to wait a little more?”

“Dada.”

“Hey baby,” Hoseok cooed, crouching down as well and opening his arms wide.

Hesitantly your daughter turned to look at you again, as if she was asking for your approval to go.

You nodded. “You’re safe with him.”

She ducked under your veil and hurried to Hoseok, calling for him loudly. She nearly hurled herself into his arms, laughing brightly as soon as he jumped up and squealed with her.

The others stayed put, unsure what to do. They carefully shifted their gazes from Hobi and the little girl to you. 

You stood up as well, walking towards Taehyung and hitting his chest lightly. “Sometimes you really are an idiot,” you snorted, “you may look scarily hot but more scary than hot in her eyes.”

“You think I’m looking hot?” He asked with a smug grin and an arched eyebrow.

“Stop before Hobi has to wear this outfit forever.” 

Another snort left your mouth at Jin’s joke. “You’re unbelievable. All of you!”

The giggles and squeals of your daughter had died down while she observed you joking with the scary men. She still had trouble seeing her uncles in them but she trusted you. “Mama!”

Your head snapped to your daughter instantly. “What is it sweetie?”

She pointed at Taehyung. “Tae tae?”

“Yes, good. That’s uncle Tae tae.” You smiled brightly, pointing now at Namjoon. “Who’s that?”

“Ta boom!” She squealed, laughing and clapping her hands again.

The others laughed as well while Namjoon sighed in defeat. “Really? That’s the name you taught her?”

“Not exactly, it’s kaboom, like the sound a bomb makes while it literally destroys everything.” Hoseok grinned from ear to ear.

“Good girl, you’re right again. Do you know anyone else?” You asked, looking around to see the expectant faces of the remaining members.

She pouted in thought, observing each face closely before she pointed at Yoongi with twinkling eyes. “Meow meow.”

You bit down on your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing out loud. The complete opposite of the others, who cheered enthusiastically.

He turned his gaze to you, eyes wide in horror. 

“It’s what the fans would want as soon as we show her to the world,” you answered his unspoken question with a shrug of your shoulders.

Ignoring the resulting teasing, Jimin walked up to Hoseok and your daughter, pointing at his own face in wonder. “Do you recognise me?”

You saw her tilting her head, squeezing her eyes while examining his features. “Minnie?” 

His face lit up immediately, satisfied after being recognised by her. He nodded quickly and you wondered how the hat could stay on his head.

“Two more to go sweetie,” you smiled and pointed at Jin.

She quietly blinked a few times, thinking hard.

“Oh come on. You surely recognise your best uncle, right?” Jin laughed, stemming his hands on his hips.

“Jinnie!” She squealed the second after she had heard his laugh.

“See, told you,” Jin said proudly, nodding towards your daughter.

“Yeah, yeah old man. What about me?” Jungkook squeezed himself in front of the others, staring at the little girl with big round eyes.

At first she pressed herself closer against Hoseok’s chest, intimidated by the large, dark clothed person. But she kept her eyes on him, trying to be brave.

You had to swallow down your cooing at the sight of your little brave girl. You hoped that she would feel safe enough among the guys that you could leave for a while, preparing the little trick-or-treat walk through the agency.

With the help of the guys you had persuaded the agency to hold a little Halloween fest for the children of the agency.

A few workers had children themselves and even for them it was quite dangerous to go outside with their children. Therefore they immediately jumped on board after they heard your idea. Days before Halloween every worker without children had put little pumpkin stickers on their office doors, signalling where to knock for trick-or-treating. 

“Googie?” The voice of your daughter brought you out of your thoughts, turning back to look at them.

Jungkook sighed in relief, clutching his chest with one hand. “Ah, thank you.” 

“See? Just your uncles. Ready to dance with us, baby?” Hoseok crouched down and helped your daughter on her feet.

Knowing she was now occupied with her dad and the enthusiastic maknaes, you turned to Jin and Namjoon. “Is everything prepared? Do the staff members have the sweets? What about the other children? Are they already here? Do their parents know they just need to go to the pumpkin doors?”

Jin placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down again. “Yes, everything is settled. We are ready to go trick-or-treating with her.”

“The whole building is actually really excited to see all those kids in costumes,” Namjoon added in agreement. “Just imagine all those little scary monsters. That’s going to be so cute.”

You snickered at his tiny coos. “Seems like all of you are even more eager to go than my little girl.”

“You think?” Yoongi asked, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

“Hey, can we go, can we go?” Taehyung ran back to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

“She doesn’t even know how trick-or-treat works.” You laughed and followed him.

“Don’t worry! Her uncles will teach her!”

You arched an eyebrow in question at Jimin’s statement but still followed them.

Jungkook had grabbed your daughter's hand in the meantime, guiding her to the door, closely followed by Hoseok and Jimin. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the others tagging along too.

“Mama?”

You turned back to your daughter, who had stopped at the door, looking back at you. “I’m coming. We’re doing something fun now, okay? Look, your dada has something for you.”

Grinning brightly, Hoseok presented the little plastic bag in the form of a pumpkin. “You’re going to need that, baby.” He smiled and patted the crown of her head.

Your little group, led by your daughter and Jungkook, walked along the hallways to the first door with a pumpkin sticker.

Taehyung let go of your hand and rushed forward, grabbing Jimin’s arm and pulling him along to the front, right next to Jungkook and your little girl.

While the maknaes eagerly explained to her what to do, Hoseok came back to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. 

“Look at these kids.”

“It feels like we’re parents as well,” Jin chuckled, poking Namjoon’s side with his elbow. 

You glanced back to the door as it opened, seeing all four thrusting bags towards the person and screaming at them the phrase “trick or treat”. You laughed at their antics, especially because they each got a candy bar from the staff member as well. Their little “yes” after receiving the treat was way too endearing for your heart.

Jungkook high-fived your little daughter before he grabbed her hand again and led her to the next door.

“Do you think we can surprise TxT and do the treating part of trick-or-treat?” Taehyung asked Jimin with a mischievous grin.

“Sounds like something fun to do,” he agreed with a nod.

“This was a good idea you had, love,” Hoseok whispered, lifting your veil and kissing your cheek. “We should make this a tradition.”

© all rights reserved

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Four

Here’s the next instalment of the series, which features some exposition on the Reverend Feargal Devitt. 

In order to get caught up, you’ll want to read Part One, Part Two and Part Three

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word Count: 4,494

Content advisory: Some discussion of death (which I would think is kind of expected in a horror story)

In the wake of that night, I found myself unable to teach with the same energy I had. It was just as well for William, who was sick for days, but I felt sorry for Sophia. She tended to her brother and I did what I could but I knew that she was frustrated by the slow pace. Sometimes, when I had her read a text and copy out some of the words as an exercise, I would drift off to sleep in one of the drawing room chairs. She would wake me gently in those moments, however, it was during such a spell that the Reverend returned from his weekly rounds. 

I shook myself awake, humiliated as I saw his annoyed expression, but before I could explain, Kate swept in and immediately told Sophia to go and set the table. She grabbed Reverend Devitt by the elbow and pulled him into the hall without a word to me. I understood that she meant to have a private conversation, however, I found that I could make out what they were saying if I listened carefully. 

She was telling him the story of William running away in the night and of how I’d rescued him. Although I couldn’t hear every word, I heard enough that I knew she was flattering me immensely, presenting me as some kind of heroine. The Reverend didn’t speak and I feared that he would somehow blame me for his son’s recklessness, or for the fact that he was still a little under the weather. 

“She’s no business at all being up and teaching in her condition,” Kate spat. “She should be in bed resting and if she continues like this, she’s going to make herself seriously ill.”

I heard the Reverend mumble something but there was no further conversation between them. 

I joined Sophia and her father for dinner, William still being weak enough that he took his meals in his room, and did the best I could to look alert. It was difficult because, unlike our usual dinners, there was almost no conversation. I desperately wanted to be able to speak as we always did, but every time I tried to raise a subject, I got almost no response. 

After we had finished our dessert, Reverend Devitt ordered his daughter to tell Kate to bring us coffee and then be off to bed. His tone was firmer than it usually was, and I saw a faint look of apprehension pass over her beautiful features as she rose from the table. 

Kate brought us our coffee and placed a bottle of whiskey on the table with a glance in his direction. He gave her a nod and a little smile, but waited until she left to add some whiskey to his cup. 

“Hand me yours,” he said, pointing at the cup of coffee in front of me. 

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t.. I’ve never had alcohol, I don’t know what I’m-”

He waved his hand and took hold of my cup, adding a small amount of the caramel-coloured liquid and placing it back in front of me. 

I took a sip and winced at the burn of it. After a moment, though, the flavor seemed to emerge from the fire and I gave him a little smile to let him know that the pleasure wasn’t lost on me. When I met his gaze, however, I realized that he had started to cry. 

“I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop it,” he rasped. “Kate’s told me what happened while I was away. She told me what you did, that you saved my son’s life and how you risked your own to do so.”

“I did only what was required of me,” I mumbled. 

“You saved a child’s life. That is more than most people ever do.”

He rose from his seat and made his way over to me, taking a knee before me and grasping my hand in his. When he pressed his lips to my knuckles I marveled at how very soft they were. I knew already that I adored him, that all the happiest moments of my life occurred when he was at home, and that much of the zeal I had for my work came from the knowledge that I could please him; however, in that instant, seeing him bow to me as if I were a fine lady and not his servant, my love grew into something new and all-encompassing. 

“I know that this is a difficult position,” he murmured. “I know that you must be terribly lonely, and that the children can be unruly. I hope you know that I never imagined they could do anything like this.”

“I never attributed the young master’s behavior to any failing on your part,” I soothed him. 

“You have probably heard that keeping a governess has been difficult.”

“Only a little.”

“Please promise me that you’ll stay with us. Please promise that, whatever happens, you'll speak to me before it becomes unbearable.”

“Of course, sir, I would never-”

He clasped my hand in both of his and planted kisses on my palm before rising. There were still tears shining in his eyes but they were no longer falling. I gazed up at him, feeling the little rush that he always stirred in my heart accompanied by a new thrill at the realization that he needed me. I had never in my life been needed. I had barely been wanted. 

“Papa?” Sophia’s calm voice startled both of us. 

“What are you doing up, love? Are you feeling unwell?”

“William’s crying. He says he had a nightmare.”

He gathered his daughter into his arms with a tender smile. “Well then, let’s go and see what can be done to cheer him.”

The girl shook her head. “He says he’ll only talk to Miss Miles about it. And he wants to see her alone.”

My cheeks colored a little. Despite the Reverend’s kind words, I was worried he might resent the implication that his children felt closer to me than to him. 

“Goodness. Then I suppose we should let her go and speak to him while we chat here.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, sir,” I told him, rising hesitantly to my feet. 

I hurried up the stairs to the children’s room to find William sitting bolt upright, his face swollen from crying. As soon as he saw me, he held his arms out. Although I had always had a good relationship with the children, we had never been affectionate, and I found his gesture a little intimidating. Nevertheless, I sat on the bed and wrapped my arms around him. His little body closed around me like a snake and he began to cry again. 

“Please don’t hate me,” he bawled into my shoulder. 

“Hate you? Of course I don’t hate you. Whatever made you think such a thing? You frightened me and you were reckless but I could never hate you.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did it.”

“Just promise me you won’t put yourself in danger like that ever again.” I leaned back enough that he could see the earnestness in my face. 

“I promise,” he said, nodding his little head. “I’ll be good for you.”

“Well you shouldn’t be good just for me. Be good because it’s the right thing to do. And be good so that your father doesn’t have to worry.”

Once again, he flung himself against me. “I love you mama,” he whispered, kissing my cheek. 

The proper thing to do would have been to remind him right away that I was not his mother, but with him in such an emotional state, I told myself that letting it slide this one time couldn’t hurt. 

“I love you too, William.” I nuzzled my face against his cheek and felt him smile at the contact. 

“I dreamt that you left.”

“I’m not going anywhere, dear boy.”

“I never cared for the others but if you left, I should be unhappy forever.”

“Not forever,” I told him. “Forever is a long time. But it doesn’t matter because I’m staying here for as long as I’m needed.”

“Forever,” he insisted. 

I laid him back down on the bed, basking in the smile he gave me and in the adoring look in his eyes. I tucked him into the bed and was about to go back downstairs when he called to me again. 

“You won’t let him hurt us, will you?”

I paused, immediately recalling the dark limerick he and his sister had recited to me months earlier. Although he was never named, I somehow knew that William meant the dark figure of Finn Balor. Once again, I knew that I should scold him for believing in such things but did not. 

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” I promised him. 

When I returned to the dining room, I found the Reverend with Sophia asleep in his lap. He gave me a smile that was warmer even than the fire flickering before him. 

“She didn’t last long,” he whispered. 

“Well I believe I’ve dispatched the monsters from William’s nightmares for the time being.”

“I can’t tell you how remarkable this is. Neither of them ever seemed to take much notice of their previous governesses.”

“I guess he and I have a special bond after what we’ve been through.” Seeing his inquisitive look, I continued, “He was worried that I hated him for what he did. He just needed to know that he was forgiven.”

“You are as true a Christian woman as I’ve ever met, Helen. I’m not sure if I’d forgive him in your position.”

In one smooth moment, he rose to his feet, still cradling Sophia. I was impressed, for it would have taken a great deal of strength to do so, far beyond what I would expect of a country minister. 

“Good night, Helen,” he said as he passed me. 

“Good night, Rev-” I caught his sharp look and corrected myself. “Good night, Feargal.”

Once he was gone, I cleared away the remaining dishes and scraped the ashes in the fireplace to put the fire out. I retreated to the garret feeling unsettled by the waves of emotion the evening had brought me. I desperately wanted to think that Reverend Devitt felt the same for me as I did for him, but I knew that he was also a kind and caring man and that it would be an insult to his goodness to imagine that it might be in any way selfish. I had told his son that I loved him and I wondered now if I even understood what that meant. I knew that I would do anything in my power to protect them, but I was unsure if that was the same as love. 

As I tried to relax enough to fall asleep, I also thought of what William had said about protecting them from “him”. Had my instinct that he meant the demonic figure Finn Balor been correct? Was there someone else who was a real threat? And, of course, all this took me back to the night I had saved William from the ocean caves, of the monster who had appeared to me, whose touch I still felt on my skin. 

*

Reverend Devitt chose to stay at home a few days in order to tend to the welfare of his son. William was in good enough health but still looked pale and a bit thin. Although he never said anything, I noticed that the Reverend made an effort to take on some of the work that I had been doing, particularly when it came to taking the children outdoors. He encouraged me to rest and recover my strength and even though I felt strong enough, I was touched by his gesture. I tried to help Kate and Susan a little more than usual. The latter appreciated the effort but the former tutted me about doing too much and not resting. 

I did insist on continuing with teaching the children and found them more attentive than ever. William in particular stayed close to me and Sophia was more eager than ever to show that she had absorbed everything that I told her. Sometimes, I would sit outside on the grass so that I could make sure that they got some of the summer air. The Reverend was strict about keeping them as close to home as possible and I could tell that, while they wanted to please him, they were chafing under the new restrictions. 

It was on one of those afternoons that a group of men came to the gate from the direction of the beach. I recognized some of them from church and from the shops in town, but I couldn’t imagine while they were together. There was one man who stood out by his unusual height and formal dress, quite inappropriate to the warm weather. He loomed at the gate and called out to Mr. Jones, who was at work pruning the bushes by the house. 

Their exchange was short and not particularly friendly and I moved to get up to see if I could help. Sophia laid a firm hand on my arm and shook her head. 

“It’s Doctor Kennedy,” she whispered harshly. “He hasn’t been here since our mother…”

I saw Mr. Jones open the door and call out something I couldn’t quite understand. In response, both Kate and the Reverend arrive. The Reverend advanced to the gate while Kate waited in the doorway. I managed to catch her eye and she shook her head, her face clouded with worry. Sophia leaned as far forward as she could without leaving the shelter of the tree.

“Can you hear them?” I asked. 

“A little.”

The proper thing to do would have been to admonish her for eavesdropping on their conversation but I was so curious myself that I said nothing of the sort. I let her strain forward and listen, unable to make out much myself. Although he was turned mostly away from us, I could see the tension in the Reverend’s body. After a couple of minutes, he raised a hand to his face. He began to back away and as he did, the man Sophia had identified as Doctor Kennedy called to him again. 

“We shall be back to discuss it with you, Mr. Devitt,” this time speaking in a voice loud enough for me to hear. 

I puzzled over the fact that he referred to him as “mister” rather than by his proper title until it occurred to me that the Doctor was a Catholic, and that this was his way of reminding Revered Devitt that he did not consider him to be a proper agent of the church. However, I couldn’t fathom what would bring him to our house. 

“They’ve found something,” Sophia informed us, “in the water.”

She and William passed a meaningful look. 

“Did they say what it was?” I queried. 

“I couldn’t hear, but whatever it is, Papa was upset.”

“Perhaps we should go inside.”

I stood and they followed me back into the house. The Reverend was speaking to Kate, his face flushed and his voice shaky. When he saw me he paused, his eyes moving from me to each of his children and back.

“I’ll go prepare tea,” Kate rasped, looking a little frightened herself. 

“What did he want?” Sophia asked sourly. 

“The men went to install grates in the caves. They were worried about children exploring them and getting caught up in the tide.”

William looked a little ashamed, although I really didn’t see how this reflected badly on him. If anything, he was inadvertently contributing to making others safe. 

“The doctor says they found… there was something in the cave where you were hiding the night you ran off, William.” He paused as if it was hurting him to speak. “Children, come here.”

They obeyed and I wondered if I should leave, feeling a little left out. I could not do so, however, without pushing past them, which I felt would seem rude. Instead, I backed up a little and hung closer to the door, turning my face away as if I were trying not to hear what was said. 

“What they found… they think it might be your mother,” he said quietly. 

“How do they know?” William whimpered. 

“Well, they don’t know for sure, but what they found… they never did find her body and we always assumed she’d been swept out to sea. Now they think she might have gone into one of the caves and become trapped.”

“But what did they find?” William persevered. 

“Bones,” his sister snapped. “They found bones.” She tilted her chin up and pointed her unwavering stare at her father. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

He nodded. Sophia glanced back at me and he looked up again, surprised. 

“I’m sorry Reverend,” I stammered, “I wasn’t trying to impose myself, I just…”

“No, it’s fine.” He patted both children on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go upstairs for a few minutes while I talk to Miss Miles?”

Once again, they followed his directions, although I noticed both of them looked back at me with strange expressions as they mounted the stairs. 

“Perhaps we could sit in the salon for a few moments,” he suggested quietly.

I nodded and took a seat, frightened that I had angered him. However, when he sat down, I saw nothing but sorrow and worry in his face. 

“I’m terribly sorry you have to find out about this in such a way. I know I’ve never shared the story of what happened to my late wife and you’ve been polite enough not to ask.”

“It’s not my business, sir.”

I had always assumed that Mrs. Devitt had died of a disease. Truthfully, all I knew of her was what Kate had told me when I first arrived: that she was a bit wild. A few of the townspeople had emphasized that the children were lucky to have me, particularly after I rescued William from the cave, and perhaps they had implied some kind of comparison, but I could never be sure. 

“Nevertheless, you deserve to know and now that we’ve received this news, you have to.” 

He gave a heavy sigh before embarking on his story. 

“My wife was a very charming woman and from the moment I met her, I was quite captivated. She was from France but from the northwest, a Breton, and she spoke English very well. So we could communicate and as we spoke, I found her even more fascinating.”

I swallowed, for although what he spoke of was in the past, I could not help but feel jealous.

“I married her, perhaps a little rashly. From the beginning, I could tell that she was unusually sensitive and that she had a temper. I suppose I thought that taking her to a quiet place like this would calm her nerves and that she would change with time. 

“The truth is that she did not get on well with the people here. She could be sharp with people and, although she converted to Protestantism for me, she had been raised a Catholic, which seemed to put her in poor standing with both groups. She traveled with me early on but going from place to place seemed to upset her. However, she hated being at home without me just as much. 

“She became unruly and would take her anger out on the servants. I am indebted to Kate for staying because the others all moved on. She would strike them and accuse them of all manner of things. Once the children arrived, she became convinced that there was some plot to take them away. Her delusions persisted and became violent. I was afraid that she might hurt the children in the name of protecting them from some worse fate that she felt was imminent.

“Later on, she began disappearing, sometimes for days, wandering off and then returning, claiming to have no memory of what had happened to her. I was contemplating committing her to an institution when she disappeared for the final time. 

“Some workers on their way back to the Village saw her headed for the beach that night and tried to stop her but she became agitated and scratched one of them in the face. She told them that it ‘was over’ and that she would not be held back for any reason. That was the last time anyone ever saw her.

“A week later, some of her clothing washed up on the rocks and it seemed clear enough that she had drowned. It pained me greatly that we never found a body but I came to accept that she was gone. 

“You must understand that, as difficult as she was, I did love her very much. I blame myself for not getting her help when her mental state started to decline but I hoped that it was a phase. I hoped that settling here would solve it. I hoped that having children would solve it. In truth, she was a very sick woman and I refused to admit it. If I had, perhaps she would still be alive.”

“You cannot blame yourself,” I told him in a gentle voice. “The seeds of her undoing were in her and you did what you believed was best.”

He looked unconvinced. 

“And now,” he continued, his voice dropping, “I understand that the men found human bones in the cave, the very cave where William hid and from which you saved him. The bones on their own prove nothing, but apparently this was caught up in them.”

He pulled a locket from his waistcoat and handed it to me. It was made of silver and engraved with the letters “F” and “S”. 

“Sarah,” he said, anticipating my question. “I gave it to her as a present on the anniversary of our wedding. 

I opened the locket and found the remains of what appeared to be a cherry blossom. 

“She adored the tree in the front,” he explained. “It’s a miracle that the locket survived all this time, let alone that flower.”

“Perhaps God wanted to make sure you had your peace of mind. As painful as the discovery is to hear, it must give you at least some sense of closure?”

He nodded but then shook his head. He looked up at me, his eyes more piercing than ever. “Helen, I want to tell you something but I hate to burden you.”

“Nothing you say will be a burden to me.”

“This will,” he sighed. “I need to ask for your word that you will never tell this to the children.”

“I shall never tell a soul without your specific instruction.”

“The truth is that the Catholic people here have always been somewhat suspicious of me, more so since Sarah’s disappearance. Aside from the usual conflict about religion, they disliked the fact that I had changed her from Catholic to Protestant. When she disappeared, I know that some of them whispered that I had… dispatched of her… because of her illness.

“Apparently, there is something on the skull that they found- a contusion of some sort. The Doctor believes that she may have hit her head while still alive and that it either killed her or rendered her unconscious, leaving her to drown. 

“As a result, their suspicions have been aroused again and I worry that they will try to make things difficult for me.”

“I don’t profess to know much about the subject, but surely after such a long time, there is no way of knowing for certain what happened beyond the fact that she sustained some sort of blow?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about the subject either. But the Doctor tells me that they may have an inquest, in which case, I would be required to testify. They will ask me about our relationship and about her behavior. They will ask me why I didn’t take steps to have her confined. I doubt that it will be enough to see me sent to prison but it will cast a shadow over me for the rest of my life. The church may want to move me to another town or they may dismiss me entirely. I don’t know what’s to become of me or my family and for the first time since Sarah was taken from me, I feel lost.”

All I wanted in that moment was to be of some comfort to him but there was nothing I could think of to say or do. Of course, part of me wanted to throw my arms around him and press my lips to his as a way of assuring him that I would do anything at all to help.

"Would you pray with me?" he asked meekly.

"Of course." 

We sat together with folded hands and bowed heads as he asked God for strength and guidance. After a few minutes, we were both startled by a loud banging on the window behind us. Although we both spun in our seats to see what the matter was, whoever had made the noise was nowhere to be seen. 

We frowned at each other in confusion and quickly went into the yard to see what was happening. We could find no evidence that anyone had been there. The Reverend went to the gate to see if he could spy anyone on the road and I went to look at the window. 

There were a few signs of disturbance in the soil. Normally, I would have attributed this to Mr. Jones, but now it seemed likely that someone had been spying on us. The prints were strange, not like any boots or shoes and more like an animal, although not one I could recognize. 

I stepped a little closer to see if I could make sense of them and it was then that I noticed something on the window frame: three vertical lines scratched roughly into the wood.

Immediately, I recalled the ominous stranger I had seen at the gate. I remembered him as I would a familiar friend, despite having seen him just the once. I pictured his nearly white eyes and the dark sheen of his skin.

"Did you find anything?"

The Reverend's voice made me jump as it pulled me from my ruminating.

"There are some prints and scratches around the window but I believe they're from some kind of animal."

"I suppose it's possible that it was an animal that made the noise."

I nodded. I felt a little guilty for my slight dishonesty but I couldn't think of a way to explain without making myself sound slightly deranged. He had enough to deal with, I told myself, without having to worry that he'd entrusted his children to another madwoman.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Existence - Part 1

Summary: After his death, Sungjin had no idea why he was bound to the manor house but meeting Pearl gave him a reason to exist.

Pairing: Park Sungjin x OC, featuring reader & Day6

World: Spiritual Connection

Genre: ghost au / slow burn / romance / angst

Warnings: death

A/N: Welcome to Existence, a spinoff from Spiritual Connection. When I wrote the Brian/Day6 series, Sungjin’s moment with Y/N was actually unplanned from the original outline but it’s one of my favourite parts in the story. A lot of you also agreed and wanted to explore more of what got him to that point. So did I, and so here we are!

Since Pearl was established as a character in the series, I’ve chosen to write her instead of making her a reader insert. This story is also covering from the late 1800s to present time, so there was a lot to fit in, hence why it’s broken into two parts.

Word count: 3886

Index: 1 | 2 | Spiritual Connection

He never thought existing would be so difficult. After all, Sungjin had lived in this world for twenty-five years before he had died.

And in those twenty-five years, he had learned a lot about survival. The Industrial Revolution had made advances to those living after its time, and most noblemen were now focused on living a life of pleasure, parties and prestige.

Not that he had been destined to such a lifestyle.

He was by no means stricken by poverty, working the vast fields and gardens around a large estate was no easy task. Getting recognised for the sculpting he could do of the land meant he had no worries of where his next meal came from. And the Duke who owned the land he groomed meticulously had even gone as far as to build him and his team their own home. It held a grand neo-gothic facade on the outside, showing wealth and power to all those who saw it. On the inside, well, it was merely functional.

And that had been all Sungjin had ever wished for.

As he stared around the house he now sat within, he wondered why he had cherished this place like no either. Its walls enclosed on him and his misery a little bit more by the day. It made no sense to him, to any of them. The four others who had died along with him in the great fire of the main house were all that remained. Where was everyone else? He had woken to find chaos, smoke and ruin all around. His master was gone and left a widow and three children behind. The majority of the fire he had been attempting to put out was now smouldering ash on the ground.

All that was left was the godforsaken tower home, and no power, prestige or pleasure would come from being stuck in it. 

It took what seemed like decades before someone searched for more than cobwebs in their home. In reality, it had only been two years and the land that once was owned by the Duke of the county now had been sold, gifted and divided between many. The portion that was on the hillside closest to the sea had been sold to a small family, so Brian had heard when he was outside working in the gardens out of habit. Sungjin couldn’t face the outside world since passing into the afterlife; not that being indoors did much for him either. But he was fascinated by the changes that started to occur to his little home. The family had big ideas to build on several extensions that would make his functional little tower home into a grand manor by the sea.

And through this process, the walls extended out around him.

“Look, they’re adding on another wing!” Wonpil enthused, the sound of construction pounding from dawn to dusk.

It was rather impressive when they were done, the two bedroom turret tower now a vast, seven bedroom home with multiple day rooms, a study, large kitchen, dining and amenities that would ease the lives of those who would inhabit it. Even his friends were thrilled with the extension of their home, spreading throughout the building and no longer stuck in the same spot. Sungjin had chosen a ground level bedroom to spend his days within. It held a great view of the sea and sky from facing the cliffside and brought him some peace in this confusing overstay on Earth.

The puzzle of why he and his friends remained stuck on this land, as protectors of their home, still eluded him. Acceptance had arrived, as did the new residents.

They were loud people.

From parties to arguments, all this family could do was shrill from the top of their lungs. It had felt promising to have his home grander than ever. Now, he hoped for the simplicity to come back.

It was incredibly frustrating to simply exist in a place that was no longer his.

Still, nothing he or his friends came up with worked.

“I once read we should see a light come forth.”

“Candlelight?” Dowoon asked, pointing to what was illuminating the drawing room they were in. Jae smacked his friend around the head and groaned.

“No, an actual light. Maybe a tunnel and we get to walk through it.”

“Where does it lead to?” Wonpil wondered and Brian shrugged.

“Perhaps it’s towards paradise.”

“Jae, the book you were reading was the Bible and the light would lead us to salvation,” Sungjin announced, sighing heavily.

“Are we the damned then?”

“We only did our best to help our master until the explosion,” Wonpil mentioned with a pout and everyone fell silent.

And then Jae stood up, shaking his head before fetching his guitar from the corner of the room. His tune was troubled, much like their hearts were.

This sombre mood travelled into the new century where the manor house saw several owners come and go. The loud family came into money and moved to bigger prospects. The next fell into ruin and the house went into possession of the bank.

Sungjin watched grandeur enter and leave in an endless cycle until new money arrived in the late 1930s. A family with three children, though only giggles filled the home this time. He was enamoured by the way the light seemed to shine brighter in the manor house. It transformed, carrying a spirit from the past and meshing with the new with every pass of Ring around the Rosie played in the grand entrance.

It was a year later when everything changed.

“Won’t you play with me?” the youngest asked, doors opening and closing as she searched for her siblings.

“Jacob, Ruby, where are you?!” she called out desperately, opening the door to the downstairs bedroom that was now a guest room. She stepped inside, climbing up onto the large bed with a huff, cursing under her breath about being left behind yet again.

Sungjin lifted his focus from the book he was reading and chuckled at her disposition, deciding the youngest child of the family was definitely the most spirited.

“Who are you?” she suddenly wondered aloud and Sungjin looked up again to see who she was talking to. Staring right at him, he blinked, closing the book slowly and then pointed to himself. “Yes, you. I have never seen you before.”

“You can see me?” he tentatively questioned and with all innocence, she bounced her head up and down. Sungjin was amazed. “Really, you can see me?”

“Can you not see yourself?” she replied with a giggle, pointing to the mirror across from him. He smiled sadly and shrugged. Hesitance now gone, the little girl approached Sungjin and sat down across from him. “Do you have a name? Mine is Pearl. I’m the youngest lady of this house.”

Sungjin grinned. “The youngest lady?”

“Of course, don’t you see how much I’m growing? Why, I will be eight this summer!”

“Eight is a mighty fine age to be,” he told her and she grinned, giggling once again. “And my name is Sungjin.”

“Sungjin,” Pearl repeated, smiling as she liked how it rolled off her tongue. “Sungjin, do you know of a game to play?”

“A game?”

Pearl nodded again, leaning forward in earnest. What games did children enjoy these days? He was so out of touch with the world by now. Only one came to mind. “Hide and seek.”

“Will you play it with me? My brother says I’m too annoying to mind and my sister is learning a new skill. They say it will give her marrying prospects. Yuck! Imagine marrying because you can sew well.”

Sungjin chuckled at her open disdain. “Sewing will be a handy skill to have.”

“Can you sew?”

“Some.”

“Then I need not worry about it all. Shall we play now? Oh please, I wish to have fun again now that everyone else is boring and growing up.”

She reached out for his hand then, startling Sungjin at her ability to touch him as if he were among the living.

It was then that he found a purpose for his existence. Although he didn’t need to, he took in a deep breath, renewed by Pearl’s discovery.

And his own.

For years, Pearl enjoyed running around the house calling out to her friends. She would beg Brian for one more game and Sungjin to help her hide. She would always give herself away by giggling, perhaps too excited to have the turn to find her friends instead.

It worried the adults within the home.

“Pearl, you need to go out today.”

“But why mama, Sungjin and I-”

“My dear, I have no idea who your friend is that you talk of but it’s time for you to meet others to play with. Bring home friends from school, won’t you?”

“None of them want to play hide and seek though. They say at age twelve we shouldn’t run amuck as I do.”

“Perhaps they’re right,” her mother agreed, straightening out the collar to Pearl’s coat she had fastened her into.

The young girl glanced up at the five men watching on, Wonpil gesturing with his hands to go out and play. It took a little more convincing, but eventually, Pearl left with her mother to run errands.

“Well, it’s a good thing, right? I mean, how many places can we hide in now? She knows of them all,” Jae surmised, scratching the back of his head.

“I like when she giggles, it’s so easy to find her.”

“Or when she catches us as if it’s the greatest achievement of her life,” Brian added on to Dowoon’s statement, and Sungjin smiled fondly, eyes travelling to the front door.

“She needs to discover the world out there though, playing with us every day won’t be something Pearl can continue doing for much longer.”

He had been right. Pearl managed to make new friends, though it perplexed her whenever they came over to the house. “She said I was fibbing! Me, a liar?! I would never do such a thing!”

“Well, it’s not as if you can show your friend evidence, Pearl.”

“Sungjin, my reputation is on the line here. If Harriet goes back to school and proclaims I see spirits to everyone, will anyone sit with me at lunchtime? What will I do if I get picked last in class for teamed events? This is rubbish!”

“You sound awfully a lot like Jae these days,” he mused, turning back to his book.

“And you remind me of a bear. Are you hibernating? Where is your energy? I thought we would play today!”

“Don’t you have sewing to learn for the next hour?”

“I sew well enough, thank you.”

“Piano then.”

“Surely we can go a day without hearing me fumble through classical music that my short fingers have no part in playing.”

Sungjin grinned at her stubbornness. “Cooking?”

“We have Mary for that, and she’s as fit as a fiddle. Any more excuses? How about poetry? I had a session yesterday with Brian. Gardening? You showed me how to prune a rose bush last week. What else would a young lady of my status need? Ah yes, exercise. Now come!”

“Fussy little thing!”

“I will hold you accountable if you continue to sour my mood, Sungjin!”

They played all afternoon long and heard the scolding Pearl received for acting like a child over dinner. Throwing herself through the guest bedroom door, she came in and dashed right over to where he sat on the floor, diving into his arms.

“I don’t want to grow up. I don’t wish to let go of all of this. They tell me I am going mad, that I made you all up. Maybe I am mad! But to me you’re real.”

“We once were,” he reminded softly, stroking Pearl’s hair. “But now, maybe they are right. I don’t want you to miss out on any opportunities for a good life, Pearl.”

“And I won’t if I remain your friend, will I?”

“You might.”

“I won’t,” she concluded, though an air of uncertainty followed. “Hopefully, I won’t.”

The next morning, Pearl had a new resolve. She ignored Wonpil’s morning greeting. She side-stepped around Dowoon who came to hug her. As she dressed and readied herself for school, Pearl was cold, as if something had come into her body overnight and removed her remaining childlike spirit.

Pearl was the very image of a young lady ascending into puberty over the next three months.

No longer did she learn poetry with Brian at all, and focused on improving her piano skills. Her cross stitch was excellent and cooking ability grew greatly. With all the years of playing, she had somewhat neglected the normal growth around her. And so in those three months, she worked herself day in and out to prove something of herself that Sungjin couldn’t quite figure out.

It made her burn out completely.

Jumping when the door opened in the middle of the night, Sungjin looked up from the bed he laid upon, seeing what appeared to be a ghost in the doorway. Blinking, he realised it was Pearl, her eyes searching slowly around the room. When they connected with his, she started to move, running the distance from the door to the bed, diving into his embrace.

“I can’t do it!” she wailed, echoing around the room. “I don’t want to forget you! How can I? When you are all that brings me joy!”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, running his hand over her back gently. “Calm down, you can be who you want to be.”

“You mean that?” she asked as she pulled back and Sungjin nodded, wiping away the tear-stains on her cheeks. She grinned then, diving back into hug him again tightly. “Promise me you won’t ever leave me.”

“I’m bound to this house, where would I go?”

“You know what I mean, promise me. I can’t live another day without you, Sungjin. Without you all. Please, please don’t let me go.”

Staring at her as she shifted back in his arms again, Sungjin searched her face. If only Pearl knew just how much she has changed everything. Because of her, he no longer just existed. He would do anything she asked of him in a heartbeat. Nodding firmly, he watched as her anxiety eased. “Of course, I won’t leave you. I promise.”

The next morning, there was a lot more bustle on the ground floor bedroom of the estate.

Sungjin rubbed the back of his head as he watched his sanctuary transform. From guest room to feminine touches, Pearl dictated all that happened in here. The only thing that remained was the large bed that he had laid upon every night since Pearl’s family had moved in.

And now, he had a roommate.

“Care to tell me why my space is now yours?” he asked as Pearl returned after dinner, smiling happily before diving onto the bed. His simple blankets were gone and replaced by Pearl’s lush covers. He had to admit they would feel comfortable had he been truly able to feel them.

Since dying, some of his senses had faded over time. Others had intensified. Whilst taste and touch had dulled, his experience of his emotions overwhelmed him.

And right now he was feeling a lot of contempt.

Pearl waved him off excitedly. “This is our space.”

“Ours? Pearl, you’re thirteen. I’m a grown man. I will not share this room with you. It’s unacceptable.”

“You promised!” she whined and stopped his rash movement towards the exit. Watching out of the corner of his eye as she scrambled towards the edge of the bed, Sungjin sighed at her desperation. Turning to face her, Pearl clasped her hands to her chest. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

“And you decided last night that meant you would suffocate me?”

“How is this suffocating? We never have any problems spending all day together. When I’m not in school, we often spend from when I rise to when I close my eyes doing just that. How is this any different?”

He wanted to say many things. It wasn’t that she was wrong; he had no problem with spending his time with Pearl, or any of his friends. His years of forced solitude were long over. However, there was no denying that Pearl was growing up. She would need her space to deal with tasks that were far from his comprehension. He had once had an older sister, and whilst they had been close, he had not been privy to her personal experiences through the changes of adolescence. Sure, Pearl had a lot of growing up to do, and right now she wasn’t actively in the throes of it. But this had been his space for as long as the room had existed. He was disgruntled that he would have to give it up for her privacy when the time came.

Pearl’s face contorted and soon she was giggling loudly, rolling about the bed. “Are you… are you shy of a woman’s body?!”

“I wouldn’t be going around calling yourself a woman just yet, Pearl,” he muttered, spinning away from her again. Before he could leave, she had dashed across the room and hugged him from behind. His insides surged and he felt confused as to why he was so delighted by the embrace. “You should be more practical.”

“Sungjin, I’m not going to change my mind even when I’m old and grey.”

“About?”

Swinging around his waist so she was now in front of him, Pearl smiled up at him. “Ever since I met you, I’ve always thought you were the man of my dreams.”

“I am nothing of the sort, for one, I’m dead. And you met me when you were seven. How would a child be sure of anything that young?”

“I’m certain I’ll never meet someone as wonderful as you are in my time,” she stated and Sungjin began to feel faint from all the concern whizzing around inside of him. Shaking his head, he pushed her off.

“I am like a brother; see me no further than that.”

“Wait until I change into a fine woman, then you’ll have problems maintaining that stance,” Pearl told him with a huff, stomping back to her bed.

His bed.

Sungjin groaned, rubbing at his face before retreating to the new armchair in the corner.

“Are you not coming to bed?”

“It’s either this chair or I leave the room,” he announced darkly and Pearl nodded from within her bedding.

“Very well then, I’ll endeavour to make your space more comfortable for you over the next week.”

And that she had. Pearl spent the winter break sewing a quilted blanket that now rest on the chair for him to use at night. She ensured a small table was placed beside it for him to put his glasses and book upon each night, and had even placed a photo frame of herself there.

Over the next four years, she changed out the photo regularly. Because, as she had once stated, Pearl did grow into a fine woman.

Swirling around in her navy polka dot dress, Pearl laughed with delight. “Your face right now.”

“I said nothing.”

“You didn’t have to,” she mused, walking to his side. Glancing up at him with eyes alive, Pearl’s smile grew. “You think I look divine, don’t you?”

“It suits you,” he commented dryly, darting his eyes away unsuccessfully. At age seventeen, Pearl was dynamic. And incredibly aware that he often had to swallow back sinful thoughts that had grown over time. He disliked that he had fallen trap to her charms, and yet, looking back over the past ten years, he wondered if there was ever a point where he hadn’t been captivated by her.

“Merely suits me?” she wondered with another laugh, reaching out for one of his hands and tugging on it. He didn’t budge and she grumbled. “Surely, you have more to say than that.”

“It will turn heads at the dance tonight. There, is that satisfactory?” he offered and Pearl pursed her plump crimson lips together, offended he still hadn’t spoken the words that she could see within his warm eyes.

That she was beautiful. The most attractive woman he had ever seen in all of his years, dead or alive.

Her hand was still holding his and she stepped closer, looking up at him, now recovered from her annoyance. “I wish you could be my escort.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

“I know you would dance with me,” she continued and Sungjin chuckled.

“As will many others.”

“Won’t you dance with me?” she murmured, slipping a hand to his waist. He shook his head and pulled away, her touch now burning him down to the soul.

“Go dance with the eligible men and tell me about it in the morning. Goodnight, Pearl.”

He ignored her until she left with an outlandish whine, and whilst he waited at the window for her return all night long, by the time she had made it up the front of the house stairs and into her room, he had feigned slumber within his chair.

“Sungjin, I know you to be awake. You told me yourself, ghosts do not need to sleep, eat or drink.”

He shifted in his chair, angling himself away from her.

Hearing enclosing footsteps, he soon felt her weight across his lap, hands reaching for his face. Sungjin looked at her within the moonlight, enamoured by the young woman before him. Pearl had let down her hair, loose waves framing her face. With the guidance of the natural lighting, he was able to take in everything upon her face.

She was staring at him with a look within her eyes that spoke a thousand words.

He couldn’t avoid her now, even if he wanted to.

“Won’t you dance with me?”

“Aren’t you tired from doing so?” he murmured back and she shook her head, waves of blonde crashing against her face as she did so. He reached out for her cheek and Pearl instantly nuzzled his hand.

There was no return now.

“One dance,” he agreed, helping her stand before joining her at the space by the large window. With the moon guiding their steps, they danced for what felt like forever. Bodies soon drifting together, flush with one another’s clothing.

“I love you, Sungjin,” she whispered as she gazed at him and smiled. Before he could respond, she stretched up and placed those crimson kissable lips he had marvelled over earlier in the evening upon his.

Taste and touch returned, and colour truly morphed around him. As he kissed her back, slow and exploring, Sungjin believed his heart jolted. Somehow the dormant way it laid within his chest now jerked, attempting to beat once more. It was the closest he would get to feeling alive again.

“I love you too,” he told her when his lips separated from her, adoring the dishevelment he had caused. Pearl grinned, pulling him back towards her bed.

“I just want to sleep in your arms tonight, can you grant me that?”

Sungjin nodded, his surprise over her brazen move now easing. “I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

_________________

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[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Siren & The Healer (2)

Natasha Romanoff arc

Chapter 2: The Stranger

Platonic Natasha x fem!Reader, Loki x fem!Reader (soulmates?)

Theme: With cracks between the most powerful superheroes of the earth, Natasha Romanoff does not find rest when she is assigned on a mission to find the missing pieces of a puzzling power that once nearly got into the hands- rather, tentacles- of Hydra. In order to unearth the pieces, she must dig through her own past and make a decision that might decide the fate of the earth in the coming wars.

Series: Will contain violence, death, destruction, softness, fluff, smut, friendship, and whatnot

Chapter warnings: it does not have floof. or smut. or Loki.

A/N: This was written a few years ago with an OC in mind so reader has a name but it is a reader insert.

Word Count: This weird pain in my heels has not gone away and it has been six freaking months! And I keep missing making appointments! With either of the doctors! I am so mad at myself. And I am trying to take vitamins for the same and I keep missing them too! Which reminds me I should put alarms. Which reminds me I should put alarms for this. ...and I keep missing putting up those too.

MASTERLIST in bio, love

Time: 2200 hrs

Location: Vienna

The little Iron Man funko pop had been entertaining you for the last two hours when the remaining contents of Harry’s table could not. By now you were practically half lying on his table, the chair rolling to and fro while you hummed the tune to Tender’s Nadir, bobbing your head like your little friend to the rhythm. Harry’s colleague- another assistant professor in the department- had come by to collect his stuff from his desk while you waited. “Why don’t you leave and he’ll come when he can,” he had mentioned, drawing a stare of judgment from you. Leave him? What am I? A monster? I can’ just ‘leave’ him. He’s Harry, man! Shut your trap hole!

"I'm so sorry Koshu. I had to collect some assignments from the students." Harry started with loud gasps of breath before he’s even entered the room. You were kinda bummed he knew you were there. You really wanted to surprise him. Though you had to say, you loved seeing him all flustered. It was quite a rare sight for you. You always so calm and composed friend never broke a sweat no matter how hard things were. Well, the things that were hard for you were a smooth sail for Harry. Even though you’d both come here to study and research in artificial intelligence, you had just dropped out of the course after the first semester and taken to teaching minor courses and skills while learning some yourself. He, on the other hand, had been acing it ever since he got here, winning scholarships and accolades. Not to mention the hearts of all ladies and interested men. And what did Harry do about it? Be as innocently unaware about it all as your crush on him. Stupid son of a sexy goofball!

"Look at you, all red and sweaty! I bet Sammy would love to have you now." you giggled.

Harry stood beside you for a second, blank, until he realised what you meant and flushed a fresh batch of red. Yeah, exes tend to have then effect sometimes. A part of you was glad to have that woman out of the picture- that part being the whole of you. No one wants a toxic girlfriend who wants you because you’re hot and then thinks she rather not because ‘I don’t know, Harry, you’re not as outgoing as I thought my boyfriend would be.’ She should have been glad you were on another continent at that time.

"Yeah. Whatever. Hey, I have to grade these assignments so why don't you head home. I'll finish these and then come back,” Harry admitted before wiping the sweat off his forehead. Ugh! Stop it you tease! Your inner voice was really having a day.

"What? Take them home! I'll cook us some pasta or Indian if you are craving some. Get comfy and then grade these bitches."

Harry raised his brows at you.

“That was for the papers. Not for you students....who do comprise of certain stuck ups if you ask me.”

He blinked before shrugging and nodding in agreement. Hesitating for a moment, he remained quiet, the corner of his lips twitching where it met his beard.

"Yeah, I'm comfy here. You go ahead."

It was your turn to raise arch your brow at him.

"Dude! Stop it!” you lectured, raising her hands in the air. “It’s okay for you to do the laundry but it’s not okay if I cook food for the both of us? And it’s not like I’m a bad cook that you avoid eating my hard work. This is called sharing responsibilities, something, I clearly remember, you lectured me on when we first came here. And I like cooking, it’s like a stress-buster. And I make awesome Indian food and a mean Chicken Alfredo."

“...”

“I do...don’t I?”

"Yeah, that you do."

"Thank God. So come home, you twat. Pack those things and let's move. I'm hungry. Let's go before I eat your brains."

Harry smiled sheepishly at his failed attempt for a second and then beamed with happiness from within.

"Alright. Go heat up the car. I'll bring all the material with me.”

You got up with a gush of new energy flowing inside you. Taking the keys from him, you walked for the door.

“Oh! And don't leave without me okay?" He called out from behind you, making you stop, turn and give him a narrow-eyed look. Harry laughed and dodged the duster you threw at him. "Jerk," you hissed through your teeth as you started walking towards the parking lot.

It was only seven in the evening but the sky had already bid goodnight. There were barely any students on the campus. You could hear EDM being played at a distance at some frat house or in someone's dorm. Kids, you thought to yourself, as if mocking them. And then again, you thought to yourself, kids- but now with wistful faraway happiness.

There were only four cars in the parking lot. An old Camry that belonged to a history professor who took night classes. Another one was a Bentley that belonged to a highly infamous professor of Personality Development. The man taught more about himself than about personalities. You never liked that guy.

This guy creeps me out from a mile away, your insides would always remind you.

The last one was an unknown SUV that stood a few meters away from Harry's car. It did not belong to any student or staff you knew.

You took a good look at it as you crossed it and moved to Harry's second hand, Honda. If there was anything Harry and you loved in common more than food, and a bit less than animals, it was this sweet lady. One could find notes, spare T-shirts, cologne, deodorants and much more in there. It could easily be called your second home.

Both of you had spent nights sleeping through all the tipsy- after wild parties during the first year- in this baby. This one had been with you when you’d got here and did not have a dark corner to cry in. Or when you and Harry needed to run away from the buzz of the city and escape into the mountains to rest under the stars and talk about all your deepest desires, darkest secrets and nethermost questions about life and purpose. Not to mention, you’d cleaned up this baby on Harry’s first date just so this guy would get some action- which clearly didn’t happen for this terribly shy guy.  This car had been a constant in it all and had even been knighted with a name.

“Hey Bunny! Did you miss mama? How was my girl today?” 

You were about to open Bunny’s door when your eyes went back to the SUV.

Matte black. Alloy wheels, clearly not of cheap quality. Weird number plate which was not from the state and a little metallic sword that hung from the rearview mirror inside- reflecting the lights from the parking lot right into your eyes.

Something did not feel right. You stood there for a few seconds looking in the parking lot for any sign of the owner.

“It is supposed to look intimidating.”

You jumped at the voice behind you.

A man came out of the shadows of the trees. He was wearing a grey suit and a pin bent in the shape of an eye with what seemed to be a ruby in the middle.

You closed Bunny’s door and locked the vehicle, carefully placing the car keys between your fingers so as to point them away from you and put the other hand around your bag. You took two steps back into the middle of the parking lot, standing visibly under the lights.

“I’m sorry, Sir, do I know you?”

The man stepped into the light. The wrinkles on his face made him look a bit over forty but his well-fitted suit around his body made him look younger and muscular. His grey eyes looked right into yours with a hint of a smile on his thin smooth lips.

“No, ma’am. But I have heard about you.”

You stepped further back into the most lit part of the lot.

“Can I help you, sir?”

You just now noticed the restraint in your voice- into a softer, smoother version of how you normally talked. This always happened when you were intimidated by the person standing in front of you.

“I have been looking for someone who could help me with this concept that is completely out of my league. But considering the things that are at stake, I was hoping you could help me.”

You looked in his direction, confused. More than that, you were frustrated, wondering where the campus guards were.

“I am talking about healing and meditation studies. A few kids who are visiting Europe on a foreign exchange program have shown some interest in getting certified in the course. And I heard you have some sort of experience with that thing.”

The man smiled, this time, his lips extended a bit more while his eyes still stayed grey. Your entire body feel a cold jitter all at once. His eyes. There was just something unsettling about them. Like they were looking right through your clothes, skin, flesh, and bones. 

“Oh! I’m sorry sir. I taught last semester and that was that. I no longer teach or practice it. But you can find teachers for the same more capable than me in the classes going on right now. In fact, the students can directly contact them. Their information is available on the university website.”

The man tilted his head a little as if he was questioning something you just stated.

“Really? You stopped teaching the course? But why? I met some of your students and they gave me really amazing reviews regarding your teaching methods.”

You felt drops of sweat trickle down your back. For a few seconds there, all you did was just blink and feel the fierceness of your heart trying to rise up a little. Finally, you gave a weak smile before answering. “It wasn’t suitable for me. I mean the timings and the hours I had to put in. It was sort of taking a toll on my health. So I don’t do it anymore. I don’t take classes. Neither do I freelance.”

The man was silent for a second while you felt her phone in her jacket. One wrong step and you were ready to press the button of wrath.

“So you’re telling me that healing and meditation took a toll on you.”

You let out one long tired sigh. Here we go. You’d heard that phrase before, more times than you could count.

“Yes, sir”, you muttered, your voice suddenly growing tired, “it does take a toll on you if you’re not careful.”

You wanted to take a look behind you to see if Harry was approaching but did not turn for the fear of the unknown now standing in front of you.

“Careful about what?”

“The things you work on, the ailments for example, who you work with, what energy you are going to work upon slash with,'' you stressed, though stressing as little as you could on the ‘energy’ bit.

“Oh! Like if someone was, say, in an accident, you wouldn’t treat them because that might take a toll on your health. So, you’d rather that person suffer than be treated by you.”

The statement took you by surprise. You had been thinking the man was a sceptical old pervert but here he was asking you questions a healer’s heckler noob does not play with so early.

“Excuse me?” you lost your voice a little. “Sir, it’s a lot more complica—”

The man looked away from you to take out a card from his jacket and hold it out for you to take.

“Why don’t you tell me all about it tomorrow at 8:15 am? Your ride’s here so let’s continue this tomorrow. I’m sure being a healer you have a good reason to not heal someone. Even a…” he paused, his dead eyes looking straight into yours, “loved one.”

And suddenly you were not standing in the parking lot anymore. The dead eyes stayed there with you as everything around you seemed to fade into the distance. Only the eyes, your cold body sweating and a familiar old voice shouting out for you from somewhere far away were present in the void.

Keosha.

You could almost recognize that faint noise accompanying it. A fade white noise was what it seemed to be initially. A part of your mind tried to filter out where exactly where it was coming from. 

Keosha.

It grew closer but now it was somewhat different. You thought you heard someone scream somewhere in the distance.

“Keosha!” Harry shook your arm.

You jumped back into reality, nearly a feet away from Harry’s grasp.

“Hey! Daydreamer!” He called out for you, taking one careful step towards you so as not to scare you away again. “You okay? Where did you go?”

You supported yourself on Bunny. Harry noticed the slow blinks, realising you had been living through some part of your wayward imagination that was not a pleasant one. So, he did what he always did during such times. Rubbing your back to soothe you before taking you in a light embrace.

Your heart was comforted by Harry’s presence, thanking him repeatedly for being there. Your mind was all over the place, looking around you for the cause of this sudden crack inside your mind. The old man was gone.

“Sorry I just got lost in…something. Should we go? We should go.”

Your body worked on its own, getting into the car, closing the door, putting on a radio station to drown out the echo of words left behind.

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2019 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest Results! [Part 2 - K/DA Akane]

In part deux of this year’s summer contest results, I threw Akane in the title due to the inspiration for the theme, and as I fully expected, nobody actually drew a K/DA-styled Akane. Yet that didn’t stop entrants in this category from trying to bribe me by including Mrs. Stelar in their submissions. Such an artistic temptation didn’t work on my strong will, despite entrants best attempts, in the previous category. Will it for this one? Find out after the break!

Thank you again to all who participated! This set of entries certainly was varied in scope, and definitely had me reconsidering placements over and over in my head, before I finally settled on them. I will be contacting all winners today, after these posts go live.

For the (mostly) full gallery with images at their actual resolution, in case you have issues viewing on tumblr, head here: http://imgbox.com/g/2sbxl6nX4C

I will also include a direct link after each entrant’s name, if the images won’t load for you.

Category 2 - K/DA Akane (this category focused on Mega Man characters in a pop group music scene, with a minimum of 3 members in their group. Scenes could range from stage performance to day-in-the-life to album covers, etc.)  1.) @inanehipsterslang: [ENTRY...is seriously 33 pages! I will avoid uploading every page into this post, so the rest of the entries don’t get buried. This one gets it’s own separate full gallery link instead.]

Every year, someone gets more and more ambitious with massive comics for these contests, and it truly is hard for me to not reward those who put in that time and effort for my silly little contests, as I try to objectively judge everything. And in so many ways, this entry from inane is so different from the rest, as well. It focuses on the lyrics of an actual song that you’ll see on most pages, while telling it’s own separate story in a very different way, to create a pop group.  And once again, your tale does such a beautiful job mixing a deeply serious mood with humor interjected; with moving dialogue from the heart, that feels personal, and hits home in a lot of ways. You certainly thought outside the box with the theme, and can craft a great story! 

2.) @iandimas: [ENTRY]

As always, Ian’s crisp colors draw my eye in, but I think one of these mama’s slightly more revealing stage outfits was intentionally designed to do the same thing...Akane missed the memo about ties being required for this gig. 

It was definitely a surprise to see characters who rarely ever get drawn by anyone (Misora’s mom, Veil, and Emilia) in your piece. It certainly gives off the pop idol vibe with the flashy stage lights, video board and excessive fog machine use, that Veil could use less of. Cute, and well done!

3.) @ask-the-half-enlightened-one: [ENTRY]

A private concert for the Servbot army, featuring Miss Tron, Marino and Meddy. I really liked the subtle purple glow from the lights in this one, that even without full color, gave off a great vibe to fit the scene. Unique outfits for all of the ladies, that still fit their personalities well. 

And did you all catch the little subtle W-I-L on Tron’s belt? Or notice how each of the ladies are flashing a specific hand gesture? Or how the second Servbot from the left sure does seem to be throwing up his hands in the air like he doesn’t care, in a Y...MCA...pose. Even the Bonne speaker machine sort of forms a giant W with a skull on it. Hmmm...I think there’s a hidden message in this pic.. XD

_______

Just came up a little short, but here are the other great entries for this category, in alphabetical order by alias -

@bracedshark​: [ENTRY]

Oh no, the hunter trio have finally become Maver-X!! I bet it’s the fault of their producer, $igma. Bracedshark bring us the timeless tradition of boy bands fleeing the paparazzi and adoring fans. Some want the attention, others just want to haul it out of there! It might not quite be Neon Tiger Beat Magazine, but I love the Beat on the mag cover! ;D Their relaxed, sporty outfits retain a lot of the basic design of their normal armor, and honestly, I’d kinda love to see/wear in real life. 

@dahlia-the-nurd​: [ENTRY] [Solo Tundra] [Solo Jewel] [Solo Star] [Solo Gemini]

Dahlia based her entry off of actual group Fifth Harmony, but even not knowing that, you have to love the flair of the clothing design for each of the Robot Masters here. While I am refraining from directly adding each individual pic in this post to keep it shorter, you can see each one linked above. 

I certainly love Gemini’s popped collar and glam rock attitude the most, but it’s also neat seeing Tundra’s ice crystal braid all done up like that. That was some nice creative thinking. Certainly a great group shot!

@hyperbole1729​: [ENTRY]

Hyperbole’s entry was a very clever parody on the Elite Beat Agents game, using Commander Beef and his Net Agents in the titular role. Their singing and cheering on people in need is meant to help, even if they seem to show up in situations that, you know, don’t really seem to be the most appropriate time for singing and dancing. 

Like, say, when Navi babies are sleeping, or a woman finds out her husband is likely dead in space and her son doesn’t get why daddy’s not coming home. XD It’s one of those things that shouldn’t be so funny, but I loved where you were going with it, as a parody!

@janitorbot: [ENTRY] (*RAFFLE PRIZE WINNER - Archie Issue 33 Pg. 19*)

Prancing dads who think it’s hip to be square. Well, to everyone but Bass, they look cool. Janitorbot’s pic has the doctor trinity working together again to achieve their Ph.D in synchronized pop dance moves and finger *pew pew pew*-ing. I’m only imagining them singing Kaze yo Tsutaete, and you can’t tell me otherwise. The facial expressions for each character here makes this pic so wonderful! 

@larytello​: [ENTRY]

Reploids of the world, spice up your life! Lary’s pic reimagines the Spice Girls with a single representative from 5 different series. Nice job getting them to fit each Spice Girl’s unique look. Although I would have figured Misora the better option for Ginger Spice, rather than Baby, with her hair color. XD But I’d assume she is the youngest of the group here, too. 

I’m sure the glittery background was partially created by the battlechip obtained from a Mushy virus. The sparkles and your shading all turned out really well here!

@prar-draws​: [ENTRY]

Prar’s beautiful piece features Ciel, X and Zero as Kpop idols, with a glamorous angelic vibe. Gosh, those feather adornments around each of their heads turned out so pretty, and unique for each character. I mean, just in general, each of their outfits are really gorgeous. The definition and texture you create with your brushstrokes will always wow me!

roninapprentice: [ENTRY]

Ronin’s pop group is known as Claw, based off of the cat-like appearance of Cinnamon’s strongest weapon, and Axl’s helmet, giving him that pointy, cat ear look. With those connections, why not have an album cover where they all adopt cat-like looks? Their eyes even glow within the dark scene! Certainly a cute idea, with a background that even almost feels like a cat tower playground for the trio, even though you mentioned it was a laser tag arena. I can only imagine how distracted these 3 would be, pawing at the lasers all around! XD