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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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I Know You So Well pt. 2 (Benedict Bridgerton x reader)

Part 1 Part 2

A/N : Okay my lovelies, here is part two. As I mentioned in my previous post on my blog this is going to be well and truly ANGSTY. Filled to the brim with angst. Though I do assure you that Benedict and reader are endgame, no doubt about it.

Benedict and Anthony are both slightly ooc in this fic, I will be honest about that. I think that Anthony and the reader have a really great friendship that brings out a different side of him. And Benedict is just an idiot. A lovesick idiot, of course, though he might not realize it just yet.

Also sadly, there is not much interaction between Benedict and the reader in this chapter, but do not lose hope!

There are a few Regency terms here that might be unfamiliar so here is a small glossary:

Fatwit - stupid

Bluestocking - an academic female

Hunt the Squirrel - a sort of game of cat and mouse between a woman and a male prospect; it is considered to be a "naughty" game.

Dicked in the nob - crazy

Warnings: Mad angst, illusions to smut, Benedict being kinda mean, talk of death, drinking

Pairings: (eventual) Benedict Bridgerton x reader; (slight) Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Always 18+ Minors DNI

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The next morning, Y/N awoke feeling strange. She felt embarrassed to be sure, but the feeling had returned once again, but only when thinking about Benedict. About the way his eyes shone in the moonlight and the way his lips curved as he watched her every move. The way his gaze burned her.

Slowly, she dressed, trying to push off going downstairs for breakfast for as long as she could.

Once she was down there, however, she found that Benedict was not in attendance.

“He is probably still in his studio,” Eloise snorted, slopping a dollop of jam onto her toast. “The man does nothing else.”

Y/N just gave her friend a tight smile to which she responded with a confused quirk of her head, but she did not press. That was not to say that she would not press at some point in the future, she was Eloise, after all.

“We must go to the modiste this morning, girls,” Violet said to Eloise and Y/N. “Lady Danbury’s ball is tonight and we must make a good impression. Especially you, Eloise.”

The girl groaned dramatically.

“It is not the end of the world, sister,” Anthony said from the head of the table.

“Perhaps to you,” Eloise said, rolling her eyes. “To me, however, it is truly the end of the world.” Y/N chuckled. “And to Y/N/N too.”

“Do not drag me into this,” Y/N said, taking a sip of her tea.

“Your brother is finally looking for a wife, Eloise. This is the time for you to find a husband, as well. And you, Y/N,” she said, slowly gazing at the woman. Y/N just sighed. Then, Benedict entered the room. He looked at her for only a moment and then looked away. He took his seat next to Eloise and poured himself some tea. “You will join us at the ball tonight, right, Benedict?”

He sighed. “If I must.”

“You must,” Violet said. “Your brother could use your support in his search.”

Then Hyacinth said something that made the entire table freeze. “Why don’t Anthony and Y/N just marry, Mama?”

Y/N’s cup clattered down on her plate. From across her, Benedict’s eyes narrowed at his younger sister. Anthony, ever the stoic, even seemed shocked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hyacinth,” Eloise finally said.

The young girl just shrugged. “It is just convenient, is all.” At that comment, Benedict and Y/N finally looked at each other. Although it might have seemed as though no one noticed, Eloise and Violet surely did.

“Unfortunately for Anthony, I do not crave convenience, Hyacinth,” Y/N said to the young girl. “I’m sure once The Queen names her diamond, he will have the woman he is searching for.”

“Quite right,” Anthony added, trying as hard as he could to change the topic of conversation.

“Why have you not yet married, Y/N?” Hyacinth asked, not one to let sleeping dogs lie.

“Darling,” Violet jumped in, seeing Y/N’s embarrassment. “Do not berate the girl.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Hyacinth sighed.

“I’m sure that once Y/N finds her match, we will all understand why she waited.” Violet had an expression on her face that only a few at the table understood, though they would say nothing of it. It was the look that all Mamas had when they knew something that not many others did.

When breakfast ended, everyone went about their business. Anthony went to his study to sign papers, needing to prepare for the start of the season. Eloise sat in the drawing room, reading and re-reading the new Lady Whistledown. Her eyes flitted over the page, a look of distaste growing on her face. Y/N was sitting next to her, scribbling away with her quill, the ink bleeding onto her fingers. As she saw Benedict pass the door, she stood quickly, giving Eloise a half hearted excuse.

Benedict was walking quickly down the staircase, but Y/N caught up to him.

“Benedict!’ she called out. He slowed and turned to her. “I was hoping we could…talk.”

“About what?” he wondered.

She just looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was joking. “About…last night.”

Benedict cleared his throat. “I haven’t the time right now, Y/N. I have much to do today.”

Y/N had the slightest sense that he was just brushing her off. Something that pained her so. “So you do not wish to talk about it at all?” she asked quietly.

“Not right now,” he said. As he started walking again, she placed her hand on his arm, stalling him.

“I believe we must talk about it.”

Benedict sighed heavily. “I do not believe there is much to talk about.”

“Of course, there is,” Y/N scoffed.

“It was…It was a moment of weakness. I do so apologize if I have made you uncomfortable or given you the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea…” she repeated quietly. “Right.”

“If you’ll excuse me.” With that, Benedict swiftly walked out of the house.

Y/N was so distracted that she did not notice the Footman approaching her.

“A letter, Miss,” he said, presenting the envelope on a silver platter.

“Thank you, John,” she sighed, taking the letter. Quickly, she opened it, reading over it’s contents. Her eyes widened and she realized that speaking to Benedict was a pressing matter, indeed.

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Lady Danbury’s ball was a grand affair. Eloise, however, could not have cared less about the decore or the people, she simply would have loved to just be at home.

“I feel like a prized calf,” Eloise groaned.

Benedict leaned over to her and mooed like a cow. Eloise just rolled her eyes at her brother.

“Pay him no mind, dear,” Violet said. “Ah, here is Lady Danbury.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury smiled. “I am so glad that you could make it. Lord Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton, and Miss Eloise, are you excited to make your debut?”

“Oh, over the moon,” Eloise said sarcastically.

If Lady Danbury caught it, she did not say anything. “And Miss Y/L/N, still on the prowl, I see.”

“Oh, you know me, Lady Danbury,” she said. “Always in for a game of Hunt the Squirrel.”

Violet looked almost appalled, but Lady Danbury chuckled. “Quite the bluestocking you still are.”

“Quite,” Y/N smirked. Once Lady Danbury walked away, Violet turned to Y/N. “What?” she sighed. “Alright, I apologize.”

Violet sighed and turned to her sons. “Benedict, please take Eloise to the dancefloor.” Once Benedict and Eloise left, Violet looked at Anthony. “I am quite happy to know that The Viscount is looking to marry this season!” she said rather loudly. Anthony looked at her, terrified, when the hoard of women ran at him, all vying for his attention and asking him to sign their dance cards. Y/N found that as the perfect moment to slip away.

She was walking towards the lemonade table when she heard a voice that made her freeze.

“Miss Y/L/N!” The Queen spoke. Everyone around fell into hushed whispers. Eloise and Benedict were thankfully close enough by and made their way over to her.

“Your Majesty,” Y/N said, giving her a graceful bow.

“Still unmarried, I see,” she said, pointing to Y/N’s dance card.

“As of yet, ma'am.”

“I am glad to say that I am rarely wrong, Miss Y/L/N and when I named you my Diamond, I had hoped you to be married that very season.”

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

“And every year you remain unmarried tarnishes my reputation.”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. “I would never wish to garner any questions of legitimacy towards you, Your Majesty. I assure you that I will be married before the season is out.”

“We shall see,” The Queen said before promptly dismissing her. She bowed and hurried away, passing Benedict and Eloise. She made it to the lemonade table, thankfully finding champagne as well, and downing it all fairly quickly.

“What was that?” Eloise asked.

“She hates me,” Y/N sighed. “I offended her by not marrying the season she named me diamond.”

“Yes, but…you will marry this season?”

Y/N sighed and only briefly looked at Benedict who seemed to be looking anywhere but at her. “I received a letter from my mother after breakfast,” she revealed. “My uncle has died and…as he was the eldest in the family, his responsibilities now fall to my father.”

“Oh, Y/N/N,” Eloise sighed. “I am so sorry.”

“It is not just that,” she said. “My parents must stay in France. If I do not marry by the end of the season, then I have to go back with them.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” a voice said from beside her, almost startling her. She turned to see a dashing young man.

“Lord Cho,” she smiled. He grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it.

“I do hope your dance card is not full. I must say, I am glad to see you are still here this season.”

Y/N put on a fake smile. “Well, I am hoping it will be my last.” He smirked and signed her dance card. Once he left, Y/N sighed and downed another glass of champagne.

“Lord Cho?” Benedict scoffed.

“Please,” she sighed. “I could do much worse. Do not remind me of my limited options.”

“You could have any man you wish for,” Eloise said.

Y/N smiled sadly and willed herself to not look at Benedict lest she give herself away. “It is a nice thought to be sure.”

Once the music started and Lord Cho whisked her away, Eloise turned to her brother. He was watching Y/N and the smile that was on her face, he knew it to be fake. He turned to his sister, seeing her staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

She just looked at him for a moment. “Are you a fatwit?”

“What? What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Benedict. Marry her!”

Benedict scoffed. “She is my dear friend, Eloise. She should marry someone that she is in love with.”

Still, Eloise looked at him, trying to fight through his resolve, but she could not. “You are dicked in the nob for sure, brother.”

Y/N shared several dances with Lords from around the ton, all of which she had known from her past seasons. It gave her little comfort to know that they were all still the same. Not a one had changed which meant that she could garner no significant feelings for any of them.

She was taking a break when another dance started and Anthony walked up to her.

“Dance with me.”

“What?” she asked.

“Please,” he sighed. “I need a break from these vacuous chits.”

Y/N sighed. “And insulting them will get you so far, Lord Bridgerton.” She gave him her hand and he pulled her away to the dancefloor. “You are giving people ideas, Anthony,” she said quietly. In polite society, she was still supposed to address him by his title, but she had little care for that.

“Yes, Hyacinth’s remark at breakfast is still giving me pause.”

She looked at him, confused for a moment. “Pause? As though you have not completely written it off.”

“She was right…it would be…convenient. If not a little strange.”

“Highly strange,” she said to him. “Do not tell me you have given any merit to what she said.”

“Would it be so terrible?” he wondered. “We know each other well.”

She sighed. “Are you saying this because you truly wish to marry me or because you would like to put a stop to your mother’s meddling?”

“The latter,” he said through clenched teeth. “Though I know that is not what you wish. You are a true romantic at heart and I would hate to take that from you.”

“And yet you would.”

“If it benefitted us both.”

As they twirled around the dancefloor, Benedict watched them. They were too close for his comfort. Violet sidled up next to him, a smile on her face. “Perhaps we must give Hyacinth some credit.” Benedict’s nostrils flared for a moment. “They do look quite nice together.”

Although Benedict hated it, he had to agree. Maybe Anthony would be the best choice for her. But he could still taste her. He could still hear her gentle moans and cries of his name.

Anthony saw the look on his brother’s face as he held Y/N in his arms. “I know you are still holding out hope that one day my rake of a brother will give you an offer.” She looked at him, surprised. “We all see it. Though I believe he is not observant enough himself.”

“Or he would just not like to be,” she said quietly.

Anthony looked at her with sadness in his eyes. “You are too good for him, Y/N.”

“By definition, I would be too good for you as well.”

He smiled. “That I will agree with.”

She looked at Benedict just as he turned away. A woman approached him, a sly smile on her face. She saw him kiss the woman’s hand. “It would be improper to court someone that is living in your own house,” Y/N said to Anthony.

“Have we ever been together unchaperoned?” he wondered. “And we would not be then, either.”

“I am a lady, after all,” she said, although, after the events of the night before, she was sure she no longer believed it. Looking into Anthony’s eyes, she sighed. “Alright.”

“Alright?” he repeated.

“You may court me…Just until you find a suitable wife for yourself. Giving me the title of jilted lover will perhaps grant me respite in my mother’s eyes.”

Anthony smiled and kissed her hand as the song ended. “I suppose I will call on you in the morning.”

“Can you at least wait until I finish my tea?”

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a.n. - It seems that the Queen truly does not like Y/N. When will Benedict get his head out of his ass? Who knows? Surely, not me ;)

Maybe I'll write a little fluff drabble to hold us all over until they finally get together ?

taglist: @jessyballet

Let me know if you want to be tagged in any future parts!

Thank you again for reading,

Alma x

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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The Other Evans Girl [Part Forty Six]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black/Original Female Character, Sirius Black/Daisy Evans, James Potter/Lily Evans,

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black,

Word Count: 2130

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many. But it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sister’s as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, The Other Evans Girl, Sirius Black Fic, Sirius Black/You, Sirius Black x OFC, OFC, Marauders Fic, Eventual Sirius Black, Sirius Black x Reader Fic, Sirius Black Fic, James Potter is a bit of a dick but we LOVE it, Hogsmeade, Friends, Hate, Love, Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Implied Sex, Potters, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Friends to Loves, Slow Burn, Eventual Sirius and Daisy, Teenage Angst, Insecurities, Fighting, Arguing, Bullying, War, First Wizarding War, Marauders, Marauder’s Era, 1970’s, 1970s Fashion, Canon Character Deaths, Loss of Virginity, Crying, Voldemort, The Other Evans Girl, Marauders Era to war, Multiple Parts, GORE, injuries, harm, fighting, blood, The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress

Notes: ask if you want tagging. Also i didnt want to do this but no one in hp has grandparents apparently like? why was petunia the only one left smh

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Sirius stood under the scorching water of the shower allowing its warmth to seep into his bones, warming him from the outside in. The boys and girls had gone their separate ways. Whilst James had rabbitted on to him about the new Quidditch move he had been devising Sirius nodded along though he wasn't really listening. Luckily for him, Peter held onto every word that James uttered so his presence wasn't too missed when he excused himself to the bathroom.

Though his hand stung when he held it under the water he did so anyway allowing the warm water to clean away the dried blood and mud that had clung to the gash in his hand. As the water started to run clear his mind went to Daisy, as it often did, though his worry had lessened a little bit after seeing her today. She looked better. Not one hundred per cent herself but close enough it made him feel better.

As the water started to become a little cooler he decided to hop out, grabbing a towel as he did so. Wrapping it around his waist he left the bathroom a plume of steam following him. ‘Bloody hell mate save some hot water for the rest of us,’ James said, pushing up onto his elbows from where he had been lying on the bed. ‘There’s plenty left,’ Sirius said sitting down on the armchair in the corner of the room. Since the boys had come Sirus had vacated the spare room he had been permanently occupying and bunked in with James. ‘How’s the hand?’ James said. ‘Not too bad, where are the boys?’ Sirius countered. ‘They got changed and went for some lunch, they didn’t want a shower,’ James said. ‘Yeah, lucky for them neither of them got chucked off their brooms into the mud,’ Sirius said. ‘Yeah, and lucky for you neither of them mentioned that bit of the story to Daisy eh?’ James said. ‘What you’d rather I’d tell her the truth?’ ‘Maybe you should,’ James said. ‘You saw her face when I told her about the bat splintering I didn't think I needed to add that after hitting it out of the park I fell 20 feet off my broom.’ ‘Caught by me,’ James said. ‘Yeah, two people rescued from danger. You’re a hero mate,’ Sirius chuckled. ‘And I can’t even brag about it,’ James said. ‘Well I’m sure Lily’s very grateful,’ Sirius said with a wry smile. ‘I’ll take that as compensation eh?’ James said with a cheeky grin. ‘Maybe you should ask for a kiss at midnight tomorrow, huh?’ Sirius said. ‘I’d like to start the year without a dead arm but sure,’ James said rising from the bed. ‘I don’t know,’ Sirius shrugged, ‘she seems a lot more lenient with you these days.’ ‘Speaking of, how's the plan on telling Dais going?’ James said. ‘It’s not the time,’ Sirius said. ‘Mate,’ James sighed. ‘She’s just lost her parents. Hardly the time to be burdening her by bearing my soul is it?’ ‘I don't know,’ James said, ‘I just feel like you’re making excuses. You’ve gotta tell her some time and god knows she could do with some good news right about now.’

Before Sirius could argue James walked off into the bathroom. He sighed. Should he tell her? It wasn't as if he hadn't already planned to do it tomorrow. But that was before everything had happened. Was it fair to Daisy to laden her with this whilst she was grieving?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sounds of voices below in the hall. He jumped up and grabbed a pair of boxers and trousers, quickly slipping them on under his towel. He borrowed a t-shirt from James drawers and then slipped a jumper on over it, feeling a little cold after sitting in his towel for so long, and then he headed downstairs following the noise. Daisy, Lily, Remus and Peter were sitting at the kitchen island with mugs of hot chocolate in front of them and a tray of sandwiches in the middle. He slid into the seat beside Daisy who smiled at him before turning back to Remus who was telling them about his Christmas.

‘I’d only gotten to the bit where the Gandalf and Saruman are going to fight when my Dad insisted we go and see my grandma and forbid me to bring it,’ Remus said. ‘Oh my god, you’re nearly at one of my favourite parts!’ Lily said. ‘What’s this?’ Sirius said. ‘Some boring book Lily bought Rem for Christmas,’ Peter said. ‘It’s not boring!’ Remus and Lily protested in unison. ‘You say that but until Sirius came in I was asleep with my eyes open,’ Daisy chuckled. Sirius smirked. ‘God forbid we try and inject a bit of culture into our group,’ Lily grumbled. Daisy smiled at her though Lily seemed to miss the way she had included herself in with her sister's friends. ‘Don’t bother Lil,’ Remus said, ‘I’ve tried for the past six years.’ ‘We have culture!’ Peter protested. ‘Yeah, Dais and I have a good knowledge of every muggle rock band,’ Sirius said. ‘Yeah, and Sirius and James could tell you every single winner of the quidditch world cup since 1874,’ Daisy said, ‘you’re just snobby.’ ‘Who’s snobby?’ James said coming into the kitchen. ‘These two,’ Daisy said. ‘We’re not snobby!’ Lily said, ‘but I am happy to change my stance on the remark, you’re very cultured.’ ‘Hoorah,’ Peter chuckled.

James sat down and was immediately flanked by two house-elves who gave him a plate of sandwiches and a hot mug of tea. He took a small sip and winced as the boiling beverage seared his tongue before he said, ‘Well whether we have culture or not won't matter when all of the wizarding world's high society rock up here tomorrow night.’ ‘Yeah but having Pete talk to the minister of magic about the ins and outs of gobstones rules might be a laugh,’ Sirius chuckled. As Daisy looked at them laughing about the party she realised she had completely forgotten about it.

She felt comfortable seeing people as long as it was the few currently under this roof. The thought of other people though made an icy pit form in her stomach. Sirius seemed to notice the way she had frozen next to him and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She caught him looking and smiled though it was weak. Her gaze dropped to her mug which she picked up in order to have something to do. The gang talked a bit more about the party, though Daisy neglected to participate, and planned about what they were going to do once released from their obligations. Sirius noted her quietness but said nothing, he was going to have a word with her later. He had to.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to speak to her much as Fleamont and Euphemia returned home shortly after and insisted the children helped prepare for the party tomorrow. James grumbled that they and the house-elves could get everything done much quicker with magic but Euphemia insisted they do it which Daisy found helpful, as it kept her mind occupied. Whilst the boys put up decorations in the drawing-room the girls helped Euphemia make plates and plates of nibbles and finger foods ready for tomorrow.

As evening fell everyone had found a rhythm in which to work which meant each job was ticked off of the list in quick succession. Just as Lily and Daisy finished filling the dozens of vol au vants they had made Fleamont popped his head around the kitchen door informing them that dinner was ready. The girls wrapped up the rest of the food and followed him to the dining room where everyone was sitting already, mountains of food already laid out.

‘Come on girls,’ Euphemia said on the end of a chuckle, ‘I’m surprised these boys haven’t had my hand off.’ ‘We’re growing lads,’ James protested. ‘Yeah, and we worked till our fingers bled,’ Peter ribbed. ‘I’m surprised we’re not skin and bone,’ Sirius added as the girls descended into their seats. ‘And here I was always told having a girl would be hard work,’ Fleamont chuckled. ‘They’re good as gold dear I always said that,’ Euphemia chuckled. ‘I’ll not take this to heart, eh?’ James chuckled. ‘I always said you’d look good as a girl,’ Remus said.

Lily blushed deep crimson at the indirect compliment whilst Daisy dropped her gaze to her plate. As the boys took their entrance as a cue to tuck in Daisy thanked her lucky stars the conversation was directed off in another direction as she had felt that familiar pang of grief crept up on her once more. She didn't know why. That morose feeling had barely even touched her today but the normality of a family dinner, the laughing and joking washed her with sadness.

She recalled a memory, from years ago, where her parents had been joking about having another baby. They said they had always wanted three children but the twins had gotten them there a little quicker than planned. They talked about having a boy, something Daisy was elated about being a tomboy. Where Petunia and Lily abhorred the thought of having another Daisy-like sibling. She smiled as she remembered the younger years of her life, when she and her dad would spend hours together playing football in the garden or when he would take her fishing with him even though she could never sit still long enough to catch anything. She thought about how all of that had disappeared once they had gone to Hogwarts. They’d never meant to drift apart but spending three quarters of the year at school meant that spending time with one other became harder and harder. Had had her Dad missed his tomboy when she morphed into the woman she was? Had her mother told Petunia how she missed them but never let on when they were home?

Had they been upset when she didn't come home for Christmas last year? Did Lily tell them that instead of spending time with them she chose to spend it here, with her friends?

Her brain was spiralling, she had zoned out unaware that Euphemia had said something to her and Lily was now nudging her trying to get her attention. As she came to she realised everyone was looking at her, awaiting an answer she couldn't give. Sirius was watching her from across the table, his brow furrowed in worry. As the hand squeezing her heart got tighter she felt weaker which meant the glass she didn't realise she had been holding slipped from her glass and collided with the fine china plate, splintering both into pieces.

‘Daisy are you okay?’ Fleamont said. ‘Dais?’ Sirius said urgently but Daisy didn't say anything. Instead, she slid from her chair, unresponsive to the chatter around her and ran from the room. Lily stood up as she disappeared from the room making to follow her twin but Euphemia stood also and looked at the redhead with a sympathetic smile. ‘I think it’s probably best if we leave her be sweetheart,’ the older witch said gesturing for her to sit back down. With a flourish of her wand, the plate and glass restored themselves into their normal forms and flew back into the welsh dresser. Lily nodded and sat down quietly though her appetite was gone all of a sudden.

‘Do you think she’s okay?’ James said sadly. ‘Grief’s a funny old thing,’ Fleamont said through a mouthful of bread. ‘Monty please don't speak whilst you’re eating,’ Euphemia chastised, ‘I’m sure she’s fine sweetheart. Probably just a little overtired.’ ‘It’s the first day she’s spent doing…well, anything since the funeral,’ Lily admitted. ‘Well that’ll be it,’ Fleamont said. ‘Yeah, I mean she’s been busy all day,’ Peter said. ‘Probably just hit her all at once,’ Remus added looking in deep thought about it. ‘Shouldn’t one of us check on her?’ Sirius said. ‘Best not, old boy,’ Fleamont said, ‘best to leave her with her thoughts for the night. There’ll be plenty time to reopen old wounds another night better to let the lass mull it over herself.’

Fleamont was right. Daisy was going at her own pace best to leave her to it. He’d done enough by dragging her here after all. Sirius nodded though his gaze fell on James who looked at his friend suspiciously as if knowing what was rattling around in his head. Sirius shook his head in a tiny gesture but it was enough for his friend to get the picture. He wasn’t going to tell her.

Not yet.

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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- navigation.

𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗠𝗘:

bristol, uk. 28.

this is a secondary blog, so I can't reply to comments— but I read them all and would inject them into my veins if I could bc they give me life. 🖤

#hausofwilderwriting for fic

𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗖:

↳ 'The Curse': Regulus Black x Original Female Character x Remus Lupin Love Triangle

🄿🄾🅂🅃 🅳🅰🆈🆂 Sundays and Wednesdays

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction recommendations by Heloise

Navigation

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction recommendations

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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Fallin’ For You // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: I saw that your requests were open I was wondering if you could do something with Anthony x reader maybe the reader gets Injured somehow or something? Just fluffy worried Anthony really 😂 - @nicole198205

A/N: More mindless fluff! I’m sorry it isn’t more substantial, but I had my first covid vaccine yesterday and I can barely move my arm. Anyway, I hope you all like!! <3

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Warnings: female reader, injuries, minor injuries, nothing overly serious, worried Anthony.

Word count: 1.9k

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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Dear Anthony

Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader

Word Count - 2000

Summary - If you thought that having an unrequited crush on Anthony was troublesome, wait till you write and lose the letter you wrote for him.

Warnings - fluff

Requested by @xlostinobsessionsx Thank you for your request, I hope you like it :)) for I enjoyed writing this a lot.

SPOILER - Since it has a happy ending, I am tweaking the storyline of Anthony never wanting to fall in love.

***

Viscount Bridgerton? Too formal. My Lord? Unintentionally seductive. Dear Anthony? Better than its predecessor, and while you would prefer something more formal, it was the best you could think of. With that, you bent to write your very first love letter, and finished it thirty seconds later.

Dear Anthony,

I love you.

You looked down at your handiwork, burned a hundred shades of crimson, then tore the paper into infinite minuscule bits.

You knew it was a disaster waiting to happen, for writing a letter to your unrequited love never did anyone any good. It didn’t achieve anything, and instead only made one more miserable than they already were. But after getting tired of reading about Anthony’s escapades and near-indomitable ‘Rake’ status in Lady Whistledown, you needed to vent out your frustrations.

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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winged cupid painted blind // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: I’d really love something based on love story by Taylor Swift. The lines “We keep quite cuz we’re dead if they knew” and “take me somewhere we can be alone” stick out to me // I was thinking that the reader could be from a family that isn’t well off and her and Anthony meet at a ball somehow. They create a ruse that she’s from a well known family so that the gossips in the ton don’t attack her because Anthony has fallen in love with a “commoner.” All the Bridgertons are in on the ruse and at the end of the story Anthony proposes - @whovianwholikesgirls

A/N: Why is it that every Bridgerton fic I write, I end up writing thousands and thousands of words? This is long and I am sorry for that! As always, I hope I have done your request justice and that I hope you like!

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, class divides, pining, mutual pining, lots of fluff, dancing, kissing, happy ending, Anthony in love.

Word count: 7.7k

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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Overstep

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader. Courting, light harassment ig???, some period-typical misogyny, protectiveness. This is lowkey ooc since he’s not quite this woke in the series (at least where I am in it) but whatever

word count: 1.3k

You stand in the ballroom of the party, off to the side, beside the table of food as you watch others dance. Your primary suitor and the man you plan to marry, Anthony, had stepped away to tend to his sisters, apologetically leaving you to wait for a few moments until he returned to join you in another dance.

As you tarry by the refreshments, idly nibbling on a biscuit and sipping at a glass of chardonnay, a man you don’t recognize approaches you. He’s tall, on the older side, and has some weight on him to accompany the years. You offer him a polite, albeit forced, smile as he comes to stand beside you.

“Greetings, Miss L/n.” The man says regally, his tone one that would make you roll your eyes should you not possess so much self control. You keep your expression masked in courtesy.

“Good evening, good sir. My apologies- I do not believe we’ve been formally introduced. If I’m mistaken, my sincerest apologies, as your name escapes me.”

“Ah, you are not mistaken. I admit, I have only observed you from afar until this very moment.” He says the words as if they’re commonplace, but the meaning behind them makes your blood run cold. “My name is William Davis.” He holds out his hand to you. The way he looks when he smiles with his teeth makes your stomach churn, but you force yourself to give him your hand. You shiver when he bends and kisses it, his lips feeling dirty against your skin despite the fact that countless men have carried out the act before.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mister Davis.” You’re impressed by how even you manage to keep your voice.

“Oh, Miss, the pleasure is all mine.” He responds with that sickening smile. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. “I have been eagerly awaiting the day I would finally get to make your acquaintance.”

“And why is that?” You ask as you know you’re expected to, despite the fear that courses through you at the prospect of the man’s answer.

“Well, it is my understanding that-“

“Good evening!” A voice you immediately recognize to be Anthony’s interjects as the man comes up to stand beside you, close enough that his arm brushes against yours. You feel yourself instantly relax with his presence. Mister Davis, however, seems rather perturbed by his sudden appearance.

“Good evening, Mister Bridgerton.” The man all but grumbles. Anthony turns to speak to you, and you find great comfort in the mere view of his deep brown eyes on you.

“I apologize for my prolonged absence, Y/n, my sisters required more assistance than I had been expecting.” You’re only able to offer the man a forgiving smile before he continues. “However, it appears you were in good company.” He looks back at Mister Davis now, and despite the civility of his words his terse tone and cutting gaze communicate his distaste towards the man’s amity.

“She certainly was.” Mister Davis responds, voice equally clipped. “In fact, I was just about to ask her if I might have the next dance.”

Your heart rate increases once more at the request, your mind racing as it struggles to conjure excuses, all of which you come up with you know have no merit whatsoever.

“I’m afraid not.” Anthony says simply, pulling you out of your frenzied thoughts. How easy it is for a man to say no. Despite the unfairness of it, you’re able to let out a breath of relief at his rejection on your behalf. Mr. Davis looks taken aback.

“And why is that?” He questions with indignation.

“She has business with me.”

“I don’t believe you understand, Mister Bridgerton, that you have not courted the lady yet. You have no claim to her.” Mister Davis snaps, fury burning in his irises, making his eyes appear wild. You shift further into Anthony’s side, craving the stability of his presence.

“I don’t believe I asked what you believe, Mister Davis.” Anthony retorts, voice even but carrying a dangerous edge. “It would do you well to leave Miss L/n be. Unless, of course, you wish to have ill will with a Bridgerton.”

“You haven’t the right-“

“Tell me, who should fare better should problems over this arise? You, Mister Davis, or I?” Anthony’s voice has lowered substantially as he less than subtly threatens the man with the weight of the Bridgerton family’s status to back him. Mister Davis looks almost afraid along with his irateness, and you relish in the image of it.

“Very well, Mister Bridgerton.” Mister Davis grits out after a moment. He offers you both a curt bow. “Good evening to you both.” With that he turns and walks away, and you watch his retreating form until it is lost in the crowd of the party. Anthony’s hand finds the small of your back.

“Come along, Y/n, let us depart. The party will be coming to a close in a short time.” He murmurs, leading you out of the ballroom. You’re a bit surprised by his haste to leave, but you do not think to question it, as you’re more than pleased to get out of the crowded ballroom and into the fresh air of the spring evening.

“What did he say to you?” Anthony asks in a terse murmur as he leads your descent down the stairs at the entrance of the estate. Your brows furrow at the man’s apparent agitation.

“Nothing of real concern, I assure you. He truly overstepped not.”

“Did he bring you discomfort?” Anthony urges, deep brown eyes searching yours as you turn to meet his visage. You pause at that, as while in your mind the man did nothing wrong- nothing he’d said was outright scandalous or inappropriate- something about your interaction with him had made your skin crawl. And part of the reason behind it had been his obvious attempts to court you.

“Well- of course, Anthony. I had no interest in his advances. I only have intentions of courting you.” You murmur in response, gazing up at Anthony with slight unsurety. Still, you think, the man did nothing inherently wrong. Anthony’s gaze turns gentler, more sympathetic, though a fury that isn’t directed towards you still lingers behind his eyes.

“Then overstep he certainly did, my dear.” Anthony dictates, though the reasoning behind his words is still unclear to you. A shiver passes through you as a cool evening breeze blows by, and Anthony is immediately shrugging off his tailored jacket.

“But how so, Anthony?” You ask as the man lays his outer layer over your shoulders, the heavy material of the large garment engulfing your form and instantly providing you warmth. “It’s not as if he tarnished my reputation, or tainted my purity. He simply made me a touch uncomfortable. His actions were far from unsanctioned.”

“I care not of what is or is not sanctioned, Y/n.” Anthony replies as if it’s obvious, still fixing you with that sympathetic look. “I care only of you. And I will not stand to have you face discomfort of any kind.”

You stare into his eyes as you process his words, his gaze kind yet resolute. You realize then how devoted Anthony is, how he’s determined to protect you and keep you safe. A smile breaks out on your face after a moment, and as Anthony takes in your expression, his face mirrors yours.

“What?” He asks, his new smile lightening his tone. “What is it?”

“I’ve just realized something, is all.” You murmur, the sight of his charming grin bringing butterflies to life in your stomach.

“And what is it that you’ve realized?”

“How unequivocally lucky I am to be courting you.”

taglist: @whizzbeesdukes @snapesdaughsjm @kyleed24 @woman-with-no-name @barneswidow @randomoutsiders @fandom-puff @spxllcxstxr @frecklesandfirecrackers @layaaaa @wholebigboxofyikes @fific7 @pandaxnienke @weasleyposts @sw33tgirl @amourtentiaa @drachoesimp @fjorelaant let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my bridgerton taglist!

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thatbandgeeklife · 3 years ago

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Lemonade

Notes: Anthony x Reader - I am out of gifs.

Request: Can you please do a Anthony Bridgerton × Reader fic with the prompt- "Are you blushing?"

🦋 masterlist 🦋

It was your fourth season and, at this point, you had resigned yourself to spinsterhood. Not that you were entirely sold on the concept of marriage in the first place. You had an older brother, there was no reason you had to marry so why do it at all? Why would you sell yourself on the marriage market only to be kept under some man's foot? Once you had realized that, these balls became rather tedious. You still had to attend, of course, for the family's reputation and your mother's nerves- but, really, you were in it the dresses. Your mother had promised you all the newest fashions from Paris if you made even the slightest effort this year. So, you mostly stood in corners, clothed in dresses so expensive it was nearly indecent, hiding behind lemonade glasses. Your only saving grace: Anthony Bridgerton. He was your effort and it had come with little to no work at all.

You had met at a ball early in the season, ducking behind the refreshments table. You were there first, desperately trying to avoid your mother's condescending tone. You knew exactly what she was going to say if she caught you: "Honestly Y/N, you are doing the couture a disservice." And hearing that, from her mouth, would be positively unbearable. Just when you thought you were in the clear, Anthony came ducking in beside you. You just stared at one another a moment before he broke the silence. "Hello," he added a little wave, "do you mind sharing your spot here?" "Please." You responded, because what else could you say to the most notorious rake of the ton. "I am hiding from my matchmaking mother." He clearly felt the need to justify himself. To be fair, you rarely pictured handsome devils squatting behind lemonade tables." "Me, as well." You offered him a sort of commiserating smile. "You do not want to be matchmade?" "This is my fourth season. It seems a little pointless." "I'm sorry, what is your name?" "My point precisely." You laughed a little, dry and filled with mirth, and introduced yourself. "Anthony Bridgerton." He extended his hand for you to shake, which you took. This was highly unusual, to be introduced in this manner. It was almost thrilling. A glass of lemonade fell off the table, splashing the two of you. You both stood abruptly, wiping at your clothing. And who was standing on the other side? Your mother. "Ah, there you are." She looked between you and Anthony before leaning forward, as if to tell you a secret, but spoke at her regular volume: "Now, this is effort." Once out of her earshot, you turned to him. "This is entirely your fault." "My fault?" He laughed. "Perhaps if you didn't ornament yourself so blatantly we wouldn't have been spotted." He was referring to your jewelry, made of various precious stones. You scoffed. "It was the spilled drink and you know it." "Exactly, therefore not my fault." "Absolutely your fault. If you had not crashed my hiding spot-" "Crashed? I do not 'crash' anywhere." "You do." You replied with the same condescending smirk he wore, and the rest was history.

In the months that preceded, Anthony had been your unlikely ally. Perhaps even a friend. Of course, it was highly irregular for men and women to truly be friends unless you had known each other since childhood, and even then it was frowned upon by the more traditional sort. So you and he had to be careful: making sure never to be seen alone or standing too close for fear that someone would think you were courting. And then it would be impossible to end the "courtship" without damaging both of your reputations. There was no dancing or real intimacy but you had to admit that you enjoyed his company. Just standing sort of near one another exchanging witty repartee until his mother asked him to dance with one of his sisters or one such other woman, and then he would come right back and you continued on. These interactions kept you sane and flushed in the most enviable collections of dresses. But all good things had to end at some point.

It was the annual Smythe-Smith musicale and you were seated dead center, next to the Bridgerton's. This was undoubtedly your mother's doing since typically you and she sat in the read to cover stuffing cotton in your ears. There had yet to be many people in the auditorium, besides you. At this particular event, it was your little tradition to take your seat early and relish in the silence before the inevitable eruption of your eardrums. "I take it your family consists of masochists, as well?" Anthony took a seat next to you. You had to admit, he was terribly handsome. And whenever he gave you a sincere smile, you understood his reputation. "Only my mother and I, although we typically sit further back." Anthony leaned toward you slightly, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Really? I find it sounds worse back there." He smelled like vanilla. "Secret weapon." You matched his volume, showing him the cotton you kept tucked in your sleeve. "For shame," he teased, "clearly you have no ear for music." "I believe, that attribution would be more aptly applied to the Smythe-Smith's." "Miss Y/LN, you are truly shameless this evening." You giggled. Giggled. You must have been ill. "Anthony! Introduce me to your new friend." Colin Bridgerton sauntered over holding a sandwich. Anthony audibly groaned but introduced you nonetheless, albeit reluctantly. "Where did you find the sandwich?" You asked. You didn't think they served food. "Colin is part bloodhound." Anthony deadpanned. "Would you like half?" "No, thank you." "I have biscuits, as well." He pulled a stack of biscuits wrapped in a white napkin, which you happily partook in. "Wonderful." You said taking another bite, "You Bridgerton's, always so handy." "Are you handy, Anthony?" He only glared at Colin. The musicale was about to commence and people began filing into the room. Colin stood up, offering his mother his seat, and went to sit in the row behind with his sisters but not before asking, "Mother, have you met Miss Y/LN? She is a new friend of Anthony's." "Intolerable." Anthony scolded his brother who was absolutely unphased, contentedly taking bites of his sandwich. "No!" Lady Bridgerton looked almost giddy. You gave a wary glance to Anthony who offered noting in his expression but solemnity. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She turned to her eldest son, placing her hand on his arm. "It is too bad Benedict could not be here. He would have loved to meet Miss Y/LN, don't you think?" "Why?" He asked incredulously. "Why wouldn't he? She is lovely." Before you could react appropriately to the compliment, Anthony scoffed. You felt a pang in your chest. You didn't know why that hurt so much. You were used to men passing you over, typically not caring in the slightest- even preferring it. But Anthony's abject dismissal of his mother's compliment made your heart ache. Your mother appeared next to you and immediately struck up a conversation with his. They talked over the two of you until Lady Bridgerton asked Anthony to switch seats, so they could sit next to one another. You snuck a glance at the Viscount, he appeared incredibly annoyed. You remained silent in the minutes before the music started, tracing the intricate embroidery on your dress, suddenly feeling very awkward. The musicale began, and no matter how many years you went nothing could prepare you for how awful it was. Anthony only made it five minutes before asking for your cotton. You bit back a sigh of relief- everything could go back to normal- and passed it to him, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when your fingers touched. The room seemed to release a collective sigh of relief when the girls stopped playing. "Can you believe that was only two hours?" Anthony whispered. "Not possible. It had to be six, at least." You overheard Lady Bridgerton telling your mother "you and your daughter must come for tea tomorrow," and you stopped dead in your tracks. Anthony was also rather frozen. "That sounds lovely!" She looked to you, "Doesn't it?" You made some garbled affirmative noise in

response and they just went on talking. Anthony recovered before you did. "I apologize for my mother. She is quite the managerial type, always trying to set us up. For instance, that Benedict comment..." That snapped you out of it. "What was that?" You looked up at him as he continued to watch your mothers. "I believe she was trying to make me jealous." Your eyes widened and lips parted; words on the tip of your tongue but you refrained, deciding you did not want to know.

That afternoon in the Bridgerton's drawing-room came quicker than you would have liked. You put on your favorite dress, the red satin one with perfect seams, and braced yourself for what was to come. It started out incredibly awkward. Lady Bridgerton and your mother chattered as you sat there, across from Anthony, not daring to move a muscle. You had never done this before. Never once had this crossed your mind. You weren't prepared. "Breathe." Anthony mouthed once he caught your eye. You seemed to relax after that, answering Lady Bridgerton's questions about your accomplishments and laughing at Eloise Bridgerton's interjections. "You have the most expensive wardrobe of anyone I have ever met." Eloise stated. Not in a judgemental way, more like she was making an observation. Her mother was horrified. You were about to respond but Anthony beat you to it. "But she looks phenomenal in it, wouldn't you agree?" Heat rose to your cheeks. You were turning the same color as your dress, you were sure of it. "Are you blushing?" He teased that easy was that made your brain turn to mush. "No." "Good one." "Mother?" A male voice called from the hallway. "In here, dear." And Benedict Bridgerton stepped into the room with a lopsided grin and a kiss for his mother. "Benedict, I would like to introduce you Miss Y/LN." "Enchanté." He made some large gesture and kissed your hand. "Do you feel significantly wooed?" He asked you, looking back at his mother with an apologetic grin. And you giggled, again. What was going on? "I'm not sure." You tapped your lips in mock contemplation, "Are you keeping a puppy back there or-" "I'm going to take that as a yes and head off to the stables." He laughed. "It was a pleasure to meet you." "The pleasure was all mine." What was it about these Bridgerton men that made you feel so much less of yourself? Why Anthony only needed to- "You're blushing again." He spoke, his mouth returning to its serious line. "I think I have a fever." He moved to your couch and pressed his bare hand to your forehead and then your cheek. "No." He was back to laughing. "Do I make you nervous?" You were beet red, no way around it. "I think I make you nervous." You looked around the room, apparently, no one was paying any attention. Or, at least, trying very hard not to. "You forget yourself, Lord Bridgerton." He gave an insincere apology. What was he doing? He had never been this forward before. And then it dawned on you. "You're jealous." "What?" He spluttered. "What you said yesterday about Benedict..." You inspected him more closely: his eyes dropped from yours and you could have sworn he wore a pink tinge. "You are jealous!" "You are, aren't you?" Eloise joined in, never missing an opportunity to make fun of her brother. "Is this a regular occurrence?" "I cannot imagine he gets like this with all the women Benedict flirts with." Eloise got closer to you both, getting comfortable in Anthony's former seat across from you. "Stay out of this." He barked. And you looked at him and he looked at you and your chest began to flutter and this was so so bad.

"Why is it you do not want to get married, again?" You were out in the gardens, trailing behind your mothers. "I have heard so many terrifying stories about women in bad marriages and I do not want that to be me." "Do you not believe in love?" "I do." "But you do not want it for yourself?" You stopped and turned to him. "Neither do you." "I want it for others." He shrugged. "What game are you playing?" "I-" "You are trying to set me up with your brother, is that it?" "No." He responded firmly. "Then what-" "I just think you deserve it." He kissed your hand and jogged up to your mothers; leaving you there, blushing in the grass.

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thatbandgeeklife · 4 years ago

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The Match Masterlist

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You come across your boss’ Tinder profile.

Warnings: Smut! Boss x employee affair, office sex and all that filthy stuff, 18+ only!!!

❣️For updates, please follow and turn on notifs for my side blog @babyboibuckywrites

Playlist made by @the-invisible-queer 💕

Character Visuals

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25 - Finale

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thatbandgeeklife · 4 years ago

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ONE | temperamental children and eavesdroppers

anthony bridgerton x fem!reader | the social season of 1808 brought forth a very unexpected union, to the members of both families. and yet there was never any doubt in a certain mother’s mind that it would be a marriage full of love and happiness. And to her, it did happen... well until that fateful night where she just so happened to stumble into her children standing in front of a door. (3.2k)

a/n: i edited it a little bit from the original post at my old blog (infeffablename / daydream-hoe). for those who have read and liked this already, i would appreciate if y’all liked it again :)) + the gif is made by @stevenrogered from this gifset. anyways, if you're returning or new, i hope u enjoy this and thank you for stopping by <333

THE SOCIAL SEASON OF 1808 | (part one) (part two) (part three)

Unlike all of the meals eaten together by the Bridgerton Family for the past decades, last night’s dinner was a quiet affair. Violet Bridgerton, who was the most accustomed to the chatter and noise brought by her eight children, found it odd. Although perhaps it was the events that unfolded before the dinner that caused it…

The day started with a dull breakfast, Daphne arriving soon after. She asked for assistance in the upcoming ball that she and Simon were to host— the first of many, Eloise remarked. Daphne had informed them that Simon would be joining them for dinner and to Violet’s delight, Anthony and his family were to arrive after lunch and stay for dinner too. (Maybe she could get them to stay the night— and that she did.)

Anthony and his family.

Violet beamed at those four words.

She never expected it to happen so early due to her son’s rakish ways yet it did. Though it did not begin in the most suitable fashion as getting seen whilst unchaperoned is outright scandalous, Violet found peace in how much love that the two had developed. From the utter longing in their eyes as they looked at each other to peaceful looks in their faces with just the presence of the other.

From the start, with Y/N’s supportive smile and encouraging spirit, she saw a sturdy foundation that could be built. And with Anthony’s attentiveness and honor, she knew the most beautiful home would rise.

And how beautiful it is— was— is.

And the proof—

“Gramma.” Soft and small hands were placed on Violet’s cheeks and her face was moved to fixate on that of the same eyes of her late husband. Same eyes, same smile, same name. “Why are you thinking of the ocean?”

The serene expression on her face faded to a confused one as she asked her concerned three-year-old grandson, “An ocean? Why do you think I’m thinking of the ocean, dearest?”

“Mama looks like that most of the time and she told me that she is thinking of matters as deep as the ocean!” Teddy, as they would affectionately call him, extends his arms sidewards in exaggeration. Violet chuckled at his antics, though slightly worried at her daughter-in-law for what could she possibly ponder on often that even a child would notice.

All of a sudden, Teddy frowned, taking his grandmother by surprise. He was often a lively young lad— oh, the irony with how his father’s favorite hobby is brooding and glowering. He then situated himself on Violet’s lap, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders as he lay his head on her chest. “But mama never smiles like that…”

Before Violet could question the statement, the morning newspaper hit her right in the face and a frustrated wail erupted.

Francesca stopped playing the pianoforte. Eloise put down the latest release of the infamous scandal sheet. Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and Y/N ceased in conversing about Colin’s upcoming tour. Gregory and Hyacinth halted their debate on who was the better uncle/aunt.

And Anthony?

Violet turned to look at the culprit and she saw her son with a look of bewilderment, his eyebrows raised as he stared at his one-and-a-quarter-year-old.

Little James Bridgerton was red in the face, tears streaming down his face and his arms pushing his father who attempted to calm him down. “No! No! No! No!” He screamed, and it was as if everyone in the room forgot how to care for a child as they stared, frozen.

You were quick to stand up as James kept slapping Anthony with his hands. Violet noted the fearful look on your face and the tears that were so close to dropping. From your eyes and Anthony’s.

“Sweetheart…” You whispered, nearing him and once he heard you, his head whipped so fast in your direction and he outstretched his little arms, babbling “Ma” over and over again, slightly hiccupping. You held him close to you, his arms wrapped tightly around your neck and you gently rocked him, mumbling comforting words in his ear, his head nodding. (Daphne watched with her heart clenching— she was the first to look away.)

You set yourself down on Anthony’s lap once James was somewhat calmed down, his arms wrapping themselves around the two of you and his chin rested on one of your shoulders. “Papa, Jamie. It’s Papa…” You whisper as you maneuvered your son to sit on your lap, his face wet from his crying as his eyes shifted from you and Anthony.

Everyone followed Daphne in looking away and resumed their previous activities, partly due to not wanting to interrupt such an intimate moment between the three. Violet couldn’t help but see how tense your shoulders were and the slight hesitation before sitting on—

“All that boy does is cry,” Teddy mumbled, shaking his head at his brother.

Come to think of it, maybe. Maybe James crying was the reason dinner was quiet.

But how come Violet couldn’t sleep that night?

Something was knocking on the back of her mind, a thought she most likely put in there to think about later. Sadly, later came and she had forgotten what it was. Maybe a glass of warm milk could help, she whispered into the emptiness of her room.

So, she stood and went to fetch some warm milk, thank goodness she learned how to prepare some a few years past. But just as she was to turn to enter the kitchen, there was the most peculiar sight.

Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth, Violet counted her children thrice and even rubbed her eyes, in case it was just a hallucination of hers. And it was not. There. There in front of her eldest son’s study, all her other children had their ears pressed on the door, hushing each other when one produced even the slightest noise.

“What are you seven doing there?!” Her seven children simultaneously faced her, extended their index finger in front of their lips and shushed her. Violet raised a brow and walked over to them quietly. The look in her children’s eyes almost made her shudder. Once close, she questioned, “Now, what are y-we doing here?”

The seven exchanged glances and it looked like they were conversing with their minds, debating who was to tell her of the reason. Eloise, exasperated, sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll tell her… We all could not sleep and somehow, we all thought of getting milk to drink but we heard mumbling and… we were curious!” Eloise whisper-yelled at her mother’s accusing gaze.

“Eavesdropping is still an invasion of privac—"

“Y/N asked Anthony where he had been the past few days, she said that the reason James threw a tantrum was because he did not recognize him. It seems that he has not been in their lodgings as frequently as what he informs us of,” Daphne blurted out, cutting her mother off, the words hastily came out of her mouth and Violet’s eyes widened. She then mimicked her children’s previous position, ears stuck on her son’s door. The seven followed suit.

“Are you accusing me of being a bad father?” She heard Anthony’s voice say, low as if daring her to answer.

“I am only asking you of your whereabouts these past few days! I think I do have that right, seeing as I am your wife and it is interfering with how our sons are behaving.”

“I have told you repeatedly that I have been here! My study is located here—"

“Something I have told you is inconvenient. And we both know that is not true!”

“— and I have plenty of business to work on—”

“And yet when Daphne was still unmarried, you made time—”

“— and you do too, as a Viscountess, and yet you—”

“— you even managed our schedule, without my permission, might I add—”

“— hold on, you reassured me that you were fine with the changes—”

“—just so we could— You had finalized them already, what would my complaint do?!” (Similar to their eavesdropping audience, you had also grown frustrated at how your conversation with your husband had gone. You only hoped for him to be honest and still…) “WOULD YOU SHUT IT?!”

Anthony’s mouth indeed quieted after that.

“Stop with all that nonsense! I would just like to know where my husband spends his nights because it is most certainly not with his family nor with his wife and children!” A blur. That was all Violet could see, tears fogging her eyes, and all she could hear was ringing.

She knew that her son must’ve caught on. All her children must have.

His family.

His wife and children.

Violet was not ignorant in the loveless or crumbled marriages in society. She knew that there were instances that hearts were apart, children were neglected, and families were separate. But she had always been reassured that theirs were not separate, only different. She knew that her family, the one she built with Edmund, was different from the one that Anthony’s, the one he had started with Y/N. From the comfort and love given to the environment surrounded, it was different yet beautiful all the same.

She knew their marriage was beautiful but how could she… how could she…

Say so easily that they were not considered family?

How were her righteous Anthony, brilliant Y/N, lively Teddy, and endearing Jamie not a family?

“What are you implying, my dear wife?” Anthony asked, strained emphasis on calling you his wife.

“You know what it is and you are aware of its truth. Do not evade my question once again and tell me where you have been?!” Your voice was slightly shaking when you first started, it rose until it was back to the level of frustration you displayed just minutes ago.

Violet could not hear anything for a moment, thinking they had begun to whisper or maybe they had thought to resolve it with actions only occurring betwee— wait, why was she letting Hyacinth and Gregory listen again?

“You have been on the other side of town?” You said, Violet concluded that it was simply a momentary silence. She gulped at what you had said, she knew that it was true. Violet had confronted her son early into the season about how he keeps a place far from where his family were retiring at night. He had said that it was just where he crashes when he spends too much time at White’s as he did not want to face your wrath. But now… with the underlying tone of sadness and accusation in your words, she knew what you were to insinuate.

No response.

“He must have nodded,” Eloise deduced. Violet turned to look at her and her daughter’s brows were furrowed and she looked concerned. She took time to look at the rest of her snooping children and they all mirrored that look.

It took a minute and when you spoke again, it was clear that your voice was thick with emotion. Unlike the confidence your anger gave you earlier, you were now stumbling over your words and you stuttered, “A-are you hav-ha-having an a… Are you being unfa—”

“How could you accuse me of that?!” Anthony must have stood, with that amount of indignation in his voice, he must have.

There was no response from you this time.

“Y/N! Answe—” You inhaled deeply, then a shaky exhale and Violet was sure you were crying… Or was about to. “Y/N…”

“What… is this life that we have condemned ourselves to live?”

“W-what?” Anthony was taken aback by your statement. He stuttered, when was the last time Violet had heard her eldest stutter?

“You do not love me…” If it weren’t for Violet’s sharp hearing, she would not have caught what you said. (“Eloise, what did she say?” she could hear Hyacinth whisper and of course, Eloise answered, shushing her quickly after.) She was perplexed… she knew that her son loved you, she could see it. Even a blind man could.

“I—"

“You love our children, your love for them runs deeper than what you have ever felt before. And I completely understand that because I feel the same but you do not love me…”

“I’m—"

“You did not love me then, you do not love me now, and I have been utterly foolish in thinking that you could still grow to love me…” Your voice shook as you spoke and it broke in the end, leaving the sound of heartbreak to resonate. It was unclear as to who you were talking to. It seemed to be directed towards the both of you, more to you, Violet guessed, eyes glistening.

Again, there was no response.

Violet was utterly tempted to open the door and hit his son with something to make him say or do something. Anything.

“O-oh…” You said, slight disappointment at how he did not respond. “V-very well then… the boys and I shall take our leave for Aubrey Hall tomorrow.”

What? The eight shared a look of shock and confusion.

“I wish to save us both the pain of seeing each other. You deserve to sleep in your bed and not somewhere else and I deserve t-the space. We shall need to talk about where we see our lives headed… but let us give ourselves the time to think before we do.” Your statement and your tone left no room for judgement. “I-I hope you have a good night's sleep.”

Colin quickly blew out the candle that Violet had put aside and he ushered the group to the side, hidden in the dark corner of the hallway, opposite the direction Y/N would walk towards. Everyone stilled after covering their mouths.

Instead of a slam of the study’s door that the snooping members of the family expected, you closed it as soft as you could, sighing. They all watched as you pressed your back on the very door with your eyes shut, your body sliding down with no hint of emotion on your face.

Anthony could easily attempt to open the door and find her there, Violet thought. And even with no light to let her see the faces of her children, she knew that the same thing was on their minds.

The first tear fell, or it seemed like it did. The lack of light was starting to get on her nerves, she couldn’t see what was happening. But somehow, she knew.

Then, the second. And then the third.

You bit your lip as you tried to blink back the tears but that only made them continue to slip down your cheeks. Your hands were shaking, Violet saw the visible tremble as you lifted your hand to wipe the wetness on your face.

You stared at them, your shaking hands, for a while, the pain in your chest amplifying with every second that passed. The whole conversation plays like a broken record in your mind. The deep breathing you had accustomed yourself to do stopped. A deeper inhale and then, you doubled over. You sobbed uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking with each wave of the tsunami that were your tears.

The hall reverberated with anguish and pain.

It was impossible that Anthony could not hear you, it was impossible, Violet thought…

And that was when she realized, with her daughter-in-law drowning in distressed…

This was not the first time that this happened

And in those previous instances, Anthony never tried to fix the reoccurring hammer that gradually caused each crumble in his family.

Morning came early for Violet.

Perhaps it was due to the cries of her daughter-in-law, haunting her mind even when she slept.

Perhaps it was the confusion brought by the statements of unreciprocated love that were said in her son’s study.

Perhaps it was the revelation that her son chose to sleep at nights with the frustration sprung from an argument in his mind and, Violet hoped, the guilt of not resolving it with his wife.

It was probably all of it, Violet thought as she entered their dining room for breakfast.

And the area was once again quiet, a tender mix of silence and apprehension present.

“Oh! Mama, you have arrived, we can finally eat,” Daphne exclaimed with an uncomfortable smile, attempting to cut the tension. (All night, her thoughts were of how much luck she had that although he lied about his capability to have children, Simon was in love with her. At least they had that, well, she’d like to think they still do.)

“I’m surprised that you haven’t even begun,” Violet said, her eyes glancing at Colin as she hoped he would say something to aid them. He did not. (All night, his thoughts were filled with his brother’s and his sister-in-law’s reactions to his former engagement with Marina. Anthony told him he was too young and you asked him if he was even sure that it was truly love.)

Violet took her seat at one end of the table, opposite Anthony. The expected chatter commenced as everyone simply tried to ignore the elephant in the room. (Unbeknownst to Anthony and Y/N, what was on their minds were also on their family’s.)

She clocked an eyebrow and observed her son closely. The bags under Anthony’s eyes were prominent, his hair disheveled and he kept looking at you. Thankfully, the usual glower on his face was gone and replaced with a soft smile as James happily babbled with the flapping of his tiny arms. Your laugh was strained as you struggled to feed him. Your whole disposition was scaring the matriarch. Your eyes were less bright, your body was stiff and you kept avoiding Anthony’s gaze.

Meanwhile, the missing glower was being sported by Teddy. His lips pressed together as Hyacinth and Gregory strove to make him laugh. He did not.

Even when you asked him why he was not eating and if he was feeling well. He just held his spoon and began eating. You also tried to converse with him but he only grunted in response to what you said. Everyone peered at him every once in a while, concern written on their faces.

And then you cleared your throat midway through breakfast and Violet turned to you, wondering what you were to say. “The boys and I shall leave soon after breakfast, we are to head back to Aubrey Hall.” Everyone attempted to act surprised with Hyacinth even gasping dramatically. “M-Mama is arriving early for the preparations for Teddy’s birthd—”

A clatter.

Teddy pushed away his plate and stormed out of the room, the glower now a full pledged glare as he stomped with his arms crossed. Eyes wide, everyone stared, astonished.

You stood immediately, similar to yesterday, ready to follow your child but Anthony reached for your arm as you were about to leave the room. “Let me handle it,” Anthony said, his eyes pleading for you to sit down. Violet noticed the unease reflected on your eyes… your shoulders did not even relax with the thought of your husband calming down your children.

Once Anthony left, the only sound that echoed within the room was James’ soft babbling of a lullaby you frequently sing, blissfully ignorant of his surroundings.

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