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waterlilyrose · 1 year

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Would you be able to write a fic/drabble showing Anthony the truth of the kind of future he is condemning himself to? Maybe another Lord who has a marriage of convenience but found regret at not following his heart. Or if you want to make it magical, '13 going on 30' time jump?

Link to A03 version

The ball was not thrown in honour of the ‘happy couple’ but Anthony was well aware that himself and Edwina were the main attraction of the night. So many people had come forward to congratulate them on their upcoming nuptials that the faces were all blending together. Miss Edwina was smiling broadly with every well-wisher; Anthony had only been able to nod at a select few while grinding his back teeth nearly into dust.

He knew he was putting on a poor show of the blushing bridegroom. Even Hastings, who had always asserted that he would never marry or sire an heir, had seemed genuinely eager to marry Anthony’s sister. Miss Edwina was so giddy with her upcoming wedding and future life as the Viscountess that she hadn't noticed her fiancé's lack of any kind of enthusiasm. Benedict had only said just that morning when he had been informed the tailor would be visiting to take his measurements for his wedding suit that Anthony looked like he took the news as solemnly as though he had been given a date for his execution.

"I knew you weren't exactly eager to lose your heart but you look like you are about to submit to torture." Benedict continued. His younger brother was a jovial chap – always making everyone around him smile even when they didn't want to. Anthony hated that. Anthony also envied that. Yet underneath it all, he suspected that Benedict would not turn him away if he came to him for help. Any of his family would actually; even his mother who had been nagging him to marry for years. But his pride was too strong to admit he was in over his head. Daphne had seen more than he wanted her to in his study during the Hearts and Flowers ball and had tried to advise him – he'd ignored her, made a rash decision and now his sister was adamant that she would show up for the wedding and nothing more. What if Anthony told Benedict and he didn't know what to do either? What if he laughed at Anthony? Worse, what if he told Anthony the truth, which was that he was a fool and a coward?

Anthony stood with his mother, Benedict and Eloise (who looked eager for a fire or a fight to start to stop her expiring from boredom) with Lady Danbury and the Sharmas. Lady Mary and Miss Edwina were eager to make conversation about everything and nothing while Lady Danbury exchanged smiles with Lady Violet. Anthony wondered if he was imagining it but the two matriarchs, who had been so proud of their previous success with Hastings and Daphne, looked a little strained in their supposed pride. Almost like they had expected the success of yet another Bridgerton betrothal to have tasted sweeter somehow. Yet Anthony wasn’t paying too much attention to any of them. His eyes kept straying to the one member of the group who seemed determined to look anywhere but at him.

Kate had seemed to have made it her mission in life to get through the weeks leading up to the wedding with dignity and poise. So that meant no more confrontations, in public or otherwise, with her future brother-in-law. Unfortunately for Anthony the only way Kate seemed able to achieve this was to pretend any space containing his presence was empty. She would not acknowledge him unless Anthony felt bold enough to ask her a direct question. And that rarely ended well.

After three days of Kate making conversation with every member of society but him, he had actually gone so far as to try and be friendly towards her menace of a dog. Lady Mary and Edwina appeared delighted when he even fed Newton one of his biscuits in Lady Danbury's drawing room (the matriarch seemed less than impressed at potential crumbs on her carpet) and Anthony tentatively addressed Kate who sat on a window-seat rather than the sitting area he inhabited.

"Don't want him to get hungry, do we?" He mused in her direction.

Kate looked at him without expression.

"Oh no…an unthinkable fate indeed."

Anthony was incapable of saying a word when Kate then declared she was taking Newton for a walk and left him without a backward glance.

So much of Anthony's words and actions were coming home to roost and it felt like he was drowning on dry land. It was as plain as the writing on Lady Whistledown's articles that Kate would not give him any more of her time. The reality that she had every right and more to never be left alone with him again was small comfort. He knew that beyond the hurt and desire to have nothing more to do with the man who would soon become the only male member of her family, she was actually being socially astute. If she made sure she was attended by Lady Danbury or Lady Mary at all times until her departure and never looked at Anthony in a way that Lady Danbury or heaven forbid his mother would notice as untoward then she could not be accused of impropriety. Not that it would matter – if Anthony's behaviour didn't improve and he couldn't stop himself gazing at her then she would always get the lion's share of the blame. Society would always blame the woman and Anthony found himself in complete agreement with Eloise for the first time in years – it wasn't fair in the slightest. But that was the world they lived in and so Anthony owed it to Kate to try to do his bit. For the love of God, he owed her that at least.

He looked around the ballroom and looked at the orchestra for something to focus upon. This was made up of all females and Anthony found his eye caught by one of the women playing the cello. She was about his mother's age and had maintained the same level of handsomeness as her. But that did not impress Anthony so much as the clear passion for which she played her instrument. She played the song she was tasked to like nothing else in the world mattered to her but getting the notes perfect.

"Enjoying the music, Brother?" Benedict quipped. Normally Anthony might have been worried that his staring might be interpreted as somewhat crude but now… if he was staring at some random woman, then he wasn't staring at Kate.

"It is an impressive tune." Anthony replied blandly before turning to his mother. "She looks close to your age Mother. Have you two met?"

Violet Bridgerton looked away from whatever Lady Danbury was saying and peered in the direction Anthony indicated. Her look of curiosity turned to shock and then embarrassment.

"Oh! Um…no, I don't believe so." Violet Bridgerton stammered. Anthony may not be the most perspective of fellows but he was adept at knowing when his mother was lying.

"Who is she? Were you friends?"

"We are in public, Dearest." Violet said with a fixed grin on her face. "Do not ask me any more questions." Her tone was the one he had grown to loathe so much – keep smiling and don't ask me anything I don't want to answer. Anthony looked at Benedict in confusion but it appeared his brother was as lost as himself.

So his options were confusion or yearning – wonderful.

Edwina was talking about wishing to dance the next quadrille while looking hopefully at Anthony. He tried to smile politely at the idea of taking to the floor with his betrothed. But then the idea of performing the role of 'man happily engaged and not slowly dying inside' came to a halt. For Mr Dorset had approached the party.

The doctor (Anthony refused to think of him as a friend at that moment) approached Kate with a friendly smile and asked her if she would like to join him in a dance. Anthony felt certain for a brief second that she would say no - Mr Dorset had tried to pay her attention at the promenade and both Anthony and Dorset had ended up falling in the lake for his troubles. But Kate merely smiled and placed her hand in Dorset's to let him lead her to the floor. Everyone seemed delighted for Kate to be receiving attention as Dorset led Kate into their position on the dancefloor while Anthony felt like he was in free-fall. Witnessing Kate laughing and smiling with another man had caused Anthony to nearly lose his head at the promenade. He couldn't watch again. He couldn't do it.

"My Lord?" Anthony looked towards Edwina's voice and saw she still looked eager to dance while also looking concerned. "Are you well?"

"Yes. No. I mean…" the music had started and he could see Kate and Dorset begin the steps of their dance. "Forgive me, I feel rather out of sorts. Excuse me." And before anyone could offer to come with him, or worse the matriarchs could muse it might not look good in front of the ton, Anthony turned on his heel and strode towards the doors of the outside. He felt hot enough to pass out; he needed some air.

The garden had a terrace which seemed thankfully deserted. Anthony gulped in cold air in the hope of calming his pounding heart. It did very little. The ache in his chest was still present. It would probably be present all his life.

Hopefully with time it would ease. And if not…well he could become accustomed to it.

There was someone smoking a cigar a little further down the terrace. Anthony saw it was an older gentleman so it wasn't a friend from the gentleman's club. But he did recognise the figure a little. With slow movements, he approached the man who seemed happy to look up at the stars rather than his surroundings.

"Lord Fitzgerald?"

The older man looked at Anthony and Anthony felt a rush of genuine pleasure. Lord Fitzgerald had been a great friend of his father and used to visit Bridgerton House to chat with Edmund on occasion (they hadn't liked the gentleman's club). Anthony also remembered that Lord Fitzgerald was Colin's godfather. After Anthony's father had died, the Lord had seemed genuinely bereaved and then Lord Fitzgerald had left for France for many years. Anthony hadn't seen the man since he was about twenty.

Lord Fitzgerald had always been a striking man yet Anthony was a little shocked at the sight of him now. The man was still tall and fairly lean but his dark hair was now completely white with a beard that was out of fashion surrounding his lower face. There were lines around his eyes and he looked very tired. There was an air about him of neglect or complacency which rarely boded well. He was early fifties at the very most but he looked ten years old.

"Anthony Bridgerton! Well it has been a while." They didn't hug but shook hands warmly. "As I live and breathe, you look like Edmund. You have his eyes."

"How are you, Sir?" Anthony asks.

"Sir is a bit formal. But you always were formal. Edmund worried about that – said you were trying to be too serious too quick." Anthony's face must have fallen a bit to hear that his father had thought him deficient in some way because Fitzgerald carried on. "It wasn't a criticism, young man. Edmund just wanted you to be happy. He wanted all his children to be happy. As was his way."

"He was the best of men." Anthony said wistfully, acutely aware that he had done a woeful job of living up to him. "And the best of husband's. My mother mourns him to this day."

"And it appears that you are joining the vast majority of us in the state of matrimony. I hear congratulations are in order."

Nothing could have punctured Anthony's elevation of mood quicker. He put on his mask of polite aloofness and nodded "Thank you, Sir."

"I spotted her earlier. The Diamond apparently. A very lovely girl."

"Miss Edwina is the perfect debutante and undoubtedly will be the perfect Viscountess."

"And a perfect wife? Or have you not mused on that?" Fitzgerald asked wryly.

Anthony did not show irritation at the question. Irritation required him to care and he just couldn't at that moment. "Duty requires me to marry and Miss Edwina will make a fine choice. She is gentle, poised in company and desires children. We will make a fine match."

"Shame that 'fine' doesn't automatically mean 'good'." Fitzgerald mused. Anthony was used to his decision being questioned by his friends, family and Kate but to have yet another negative voice in the form of a man his father highly esteemed hurt deeply. The tired face of Lord Fitzgerald looked at him with sad wisdom in his slightly bloodshot eyes. "I heard you were here and I wished to see you. So I observed you in the ballroom with your family. It was good to see your mother and siblings again. And I wanted to see your future wife."

"Why…why did you not approach us? My mother would have liked to have seen you."

"Because something stopped me. The sight of you stopped me. I am not stupid – I know the majority of marriages made in this ton are made out of mutual benefit at best. But most men do not look so careworn at the prospective. I have seen many a reluctant bride for we all know how many women are marched to the altar without a care for their feelings. Men are given more power in their choices though not quite as much as some imagine. But sometimes even with power the wrong choice can be made."

Anthony stared at Fitzgerald, his old defensiveness rising out of panic. "How can you make such an assumption from watching me for a few moments? You do not know-"

"I know that the only person in that group that inspired your eyes to look something other than defeated was not your future wife. It was the one who refused you access to her own eyes."

Anthony stared at Fitzgerald. Oh Lord…if this man had seen after being away for so long then who else… Anthony wanted to deny the truth and stamp away from this conversation, to run into the garden, find a bench and sit on it until his breathing got under control. But he was tired. So tired and clearly a terrible actor. If his best performance couldn't convince anyone of the lie, why carry on with it? And this man…his father had considered this man a brother. And for a brief second it was a little like Edmund Bridgerton was here in some capacity. And Anthony wanted his Papa back in some form.

"It's too late." Anthony whispered. "I've gone too far. I can't turn back now."

"'Can't' or 'won't'?" Fitzgerald asked grimly. "You are making the biggest decision of your life which I also know will become the greatest error of it too."

"How do you know-"

"I know." Fitzgerald said firmly with a surety that Anthony had never heard before. "I know all about the road you are walking. I have walked it. And I beg you – do not put another foot forward. For the love of God, turn back now." Fitzgerald inhaled deeply. "You know that I am married?"

"Of course." Anthony said softly.

"I married at much the same age as you are now. You were eleven at the time I believe. Your father had been teasing me for many years to just get on with it – he had been married for nearly a decade so probably thought I was dragging my feet. He wasn't wrong. I was. But mainly because the woman I wanted to marry would have been deemed wildly unsuitable by society." Lord Fitzgerald looked towards the doors that led back to the ball. "A woman of no rank, no dowry who worked for a living? It was unheard of. But nothing made me so happy as to see her play her cello."

Cello? Anthony looked towards the doors too. Pointless as he could not see her but…the woman in the orchestra. The woman playing the cello. Her?

"Vivian was more than just a beauty – she was strong too. Music was her lifeblood and she was born to play. She knew that her life would be more difficult for her – being a woman who had to work for a living – but she did it. Through talent and grit. She would not accept a penny from me when most artists rely on the purses of their lovers to get ahead. She challenged me. She pushed me. She intoxicated me. And I loved her. Oh my word, I loved her.”

Anthony stared at him without mounting horror. “What happened?”

“I happened. I was always going to happen in the end. My family fell into financial difficulty. Nothing appalling but...we needed money. And a hefty dowry would do the trick nicely. I could live a modest life with Vivian on the outskirts of society perfectly happily if it was just me but if my family were to suffer...” Fitzgerald swallowed. “You understand the length that some go to for family, don’t you?”

“My family is everything.” Anthony murmured. “They have been my sole priority since…since Father died.” I am marrying a sensible option for them. I am doing my duty to the family. How can that be wrong? If that is wrong then...then everything I have ever done has been wrong and I don’t think I can handle that. “So you gave her up?”

Lord Fitzgerald nodded. “I would not demean her enough to ask her to hitch her wagon to a married man. And she would never have been my mistress anyway. If she was not good enough to be the only one then she was not good enough at all. I married Margaret for her ten thousand pounds and tried to move on.” Lord Fitzgerald shook his head. “Your father scorned it. I’m sure he judged me for it. We even came to blows once or twice. Edmund was a good man but he didn’t understand – he had the love of his life and more children than he could ever imagine. He’d never had to choose between his birth family and happiness. In the end, we made a pact to never discuss it. We both held our own opinions and that was that.”

“What happened after?” Anthony asked. “With your marriage?”

“Margaret is a good wife on paper. She gave me two daughters and a son. She was a great hostess. She was a loyal woman. And I cannot fault her for any of it. She did her best and I did mine. Sadly sometimes...your best is not good enough. They say that love grows. And it can. In some cases. But all we have ever achieved is respect and cordiality. Never love. She now lives her life and I live mine. We present a united front for the ton and for the children but they have all grown and left us now. Now we only have each other. And it turns out we have nothing to say.”

“But” Anthony felt like he was grasping at straws “don’t you see? That’s what I want. A pleasant companion. No more. Someone who will not grieve me like my mother did for my father.”

Fitzgerald looked at him long and hard. The pity in his eyes was like a burn to the skin. “And you might have been content with that. But sadly, if I’m right, you’ve already experienced the other side. You’ve felt what love, real love, can feel like. And I’m sorry – once you’ve tasted that, nothing else will ever do. And you will resent it for not living up to that. Though you are correct – no-one will grieve you when it is your time. As no-one will grieve me. My parents are dead. My marriage is a farce. My children rarely write to me. I might inspire two weeks of tears and then they will grow sick of wearing mourning for me. Rest assured, when your time comes, you will inspire nothing. Is that what you want?”

Once upon a more ignorant time, Anthony would have screamed ‘Yes! Perfect! No-one is hurt then” but now that the reality was at his door...it did not look so enticing. In fact, it scared him to death.

“I told my mother...” Anthony swallowed “at Father’s grave...I could never be the cause of such pain.”

At that, Fitzgerald nearly snorted. “And you’re not already? Lord Bridgerton, your father affected you all with his death but he didn’t kill anything. Your actions...you will be ruining not only your life but everyone else’s. That poor young lady who you keep staring at will go on with her heart in tatters, knowing you weren’t brave enough to stand up for her. Your sweet young bride-to-be will open her eyes to the reality and find herself trapped in a marriage to someone she never even knew. Your family will go on to live their own lives and leave you behind. Your children...I don’t know where this idea came from but people need to understand that children are not stupid. They pick up on things and learn to survive what they cannot see. They will pick up on the lack of love between you and Miss Edwina and will see it as normal. If your child comes to you to say they want to marry someone they clearly don’t love but who is sensible, would you praise them? Or would your heart break for the life they think they deserve?” Fitzgerald put his hand on Anthony’s shoulder and squeezed. “This is your future, my lad. Me, standing here now...this is going to be you. And look at me. I’m reaching the end of the line. I cough up stuff in the morning. I drink too much. My heart beats strangely. I haven’t seen a doctor because there is no point. There is nothing to stay for. Edmund would have hated this and no doubt you’ve heard that enough times in your life. But we could never talk about my choices without screaming at each other. So ask yourself – do you want to be like me?”

Anthony was shaking badly and felt sick. Fitzgerald looked satisfied. Without another word, Anthony turned on his heel and ran back inside. He never bid his father’s friend farewell as he dashed back towards his family and the Sharmas to rectify the damage he had done.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

18 Months Later

Anthony received the news through his mother. It was broken to him over tea that morning.

“They believe it was his heart. He was found on the floor of his sitting room. It looks like it was quick.” Violet Bridgerton said haltingly.

Anthony merely nodded and excused himself to go to his study. He sat in his chair and looked up at the portrait of his father on the wall. He wondered if there was a portrait of Lord Fitzgerald in his own home. Well, what used to be his home.

The gentleman was dead. Gone.

Fitzgerald had retired to his country estate not long after Anthony had broken his engagement to Edwina. Anthony had wanted to go to him and personally thank him but between the distance with their estates and Anthony’s own busy schedule, he had been forced to stick to letters. Fitzgerald’s last letter a month ago had alluded to chest pains but apparently that was normal. Anthony recommended maybe taking daily walks but knew in his heart that such advice would be ignored.

There was a knock on the door and Anthony looked up to see Kate come into the room. Ned was in a cuddly mood that day and was content to cling to his mother’s neck as though she would drop him and walk away at any moment.

“I heard your friend has passed.” Kate said sympathetically. “Can I do anything?”

Anthony smiled. His wife had a truly kind and caring nature despite coming off as prickly when they first encountered. She was a fantastic mother and it made Anthony’s heart swell to see her with Ned. Sometimes he loved them so much his chest actually hurt from the reality of it. But the pain was good. Because some pain was.

“Nothing, My Love. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.” Anthony stood. “I do wish to pop to the florists though in town. Arrange for flowers to be sent to his estate. I shall not be too long.” He kissed her deeply and dropped a kiss on Ned’s head of curly hair too. He was permitted a little wave of ‘bye, bye’ from his son before he returned to clinging to his mother so Anthony considered that a win. He couldn’t judge – he was much the same when it came to wanting Kate close.

After arranging for a large arrangement of lillies to be sent to Fitzgerald’s estate (it was perversely funny to him how the flowers associated with funerals and mourning held such an opposite significance to Anthony), he got back in his carriage but rather than return home, he asked the driver to take him to the old opera house. He believed the female orchestra was practising there for a show next week.

The opera hall was deserted when he arrived but music could be heard coming from the concert room. Anthony walked towards it and into the seating hall.

The female orchestra was not present and only one sat in place, playing a piece of music. The cello was deeply beautiful but achingly sad. Anthony’s recognised it as dirge.

The lady, Vivian, looked up to see that Anthony was there. The music did not even halt as she continued to play.

This is all she can do. This is all she has to mourn the man that she never stopped loving – play her cello. She probably won’t even be able to attend his funeral. But she can play a dirge and remember him.

Anthony and Vivian stared at one another and, slowly, Anthony bowed his head in respect and acknowledgement. With tears shining in her eyes, Vivian inclined her head too.

Anthony took a seat and Vivian continued to play.

He hoped that Fitzgerald knew somehow that he had been wrong: there were at least two people left behind that mourned him deeply. One who mourned for the man and the life they might have had if they had done things differently. And the other who mourned for the man who saved him from that life altogether.

#waterlilyrose #kanthony #bridgerton #kathony #fanfic #fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #angst with a happy ending #for Kanthony anyway #bittersweet

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apinchofm · 1 year

Text

Gatekeeping

Just a short thingy for @waterlilyrose and also for @sharmafamilyweek2023

Anthony would once again find himself outside of Lady Danbury's home, trying again to get the young Diamond's attention.

He was surprised to hear cooing coming from the drawing room. Maybe they were cooing over that mutt that Kate took with her everywhere.

"Viscount Bridgerton for Miss Edwina." The footman said, but Anthony was floored by the scene before him.

Lady Mary held Auggie, and Miss Edwina played with the happy baby, who was very interested in her flowery necklace. Newton was in Kate's lap, and she was speaking with Simon.

Simon, who was supposed to be at Clyvedon.

"Bridgerton!" Simon greeted, putting his teacup down and standing up. He hugged the shocked man

"What are you doing here?" He asked him.

"Ah, well, Daphne and Miss Sharma here were telling me of your interest in Miss Edwina, and I had to come into London to see for myself. Miss Edwina is such a lovely young lady, and Kate and I are such fast friends." Simon explained.

Anthony glared at him, "Kate?" He looked between the two of them. They were friends?

"The Duke was informing me of how you guided your own sister last season," Kate said, her eyes sharp and yet still so intriguing to the Viscount.

Edwina was smiling, now holding Auggie, "Isn't it wonderful? The Duke knew my mama when he was younger and is taking us all to the opera tonight!" She said happily.

"You were acquainted with Lady Mary?" Anthony spluttered. Daphne had not said anything.

"I was my godmother's ward, as you recall. Lady Mary has always been a dear friend of Lady Dabury's." Simon said, the warning clear in his voice.

Lady Mary smiled, "It is so lovely, is it not? Why don't you come this evening?"

"Yes, why don't you? You have always been a generous patron of the arts," Simon said, then turned to Edwina, "You should tell the Viscount how much you adore plays. She has been reading a few."

Edwina looked at the Viscount hopefully, but his eyes were on Kate, who was smirking happily at his discomfort, "Alas, I think I shall leave you until this evening so you may get to know one another." He said, and she nodded, her smile fading but still polite, her attention taken by Auggie.

Simon clapped his back harder than he usually would. Things had never been the same since their duel, and whilst they were brothers-in-law, he was not his friend. He led him out of the drawing room and whispered, "Deal with your issues before you attempt to trap a young woman into marriage."

And with that, he shut the doors to the drawing room as Kate had done days before, leaving the Viscount frustrated.

#bridgerton fic #simon and kate teaming up to make anthony miserable #bridgerton #one shot #edwina sharma #mary sharma #simon basset #kate sharma #friendships - kate and simon

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hellokatzchen · 1 year

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Day 1: Midnight at the library

Anthony quite literally stumbled over her in the library. "Shit, sorry–" He realized who it was huddled in a ball. "Kate?"

"Bridgerton," she choked out. Her breathing was shallow and there were tears running down her face. It was obvious to Anthony that she was having a panic attack.

He crouched beside her, a hand reaching toward her before he froze. "Can I touch you?" He winced at how that sounded. "Nothing weird! Just– my sister Eloise found it comforting."

Eloise was the one with their father when he died of anaphylaxis almost five years earlier. She'd been five and nearly inconsolable for weeks. The panic attacks started a couple of months later and Anthony, dutiful older brother just trying to lessen his mom's burden, learned everything he could about how to support her.

Kate nodded shakily and Anthony dropped down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm in a comforting pattern. She leaned into him heavily, breathing ragged. After a moment, she spoke again, "Can you talk to me? Please?" Her voice was hesitant and so small– not right for her at all.

"I never wanted to date your sister," Anthony blurted out. In his defense, it was the first thing that came to mind. He dropped his head back against the bookshelves hard but kept talking. "You were acting so unaffected and ignoring me and I wanted–" What? Her attention? His neck and ears heated with embarrassment. "I don't know, to get a response, I guess, but I took it too far and I'm sorry.

There was a long moment between them where the only sound was her breathing. "I'm sorry too," Kate admitted, voice still quiet but stronger. "I know I overreacted. You're not even Eddy's type."

"Please, I'm everyone's type."

"Trust me, you're not." She snuggled a little closer. "Tell me about your family."

"Well, I have seven younger siblings. My mom has an event planning business we all help with on weekends."

"What about your dad?"

"He died when I was thirteen. It was really sudden."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Mine died a couple years ago too. Cancer."

"Sucks."

"Yeah." The grief was palpable. Suffocating. Thankfully Kate broke it, "What was your dad like?"

"He was the best. He loved us all so much. He worked hard but also made time for each of us individually. I didn't mention but there's two sets of twins in the family and he would always make sure each got their own time and attention." Anthony closed his eyes. "I hate that Hyacinth, she's the youngest, never got to meet him. It's so unfair."

"It is," Kate agreed, "but at least she has the rest of you. When you never knew a parent… you don't miss them like we miss our dads. It's more like being told a story you can never truly understand. If they loved horses, you wonder if you would've done equestrian or if you might've vacationed at a dude ranch instead of the beach." It was as if she could sense the silent question Anthony didn't dare ask. "My mum died when I was three. Car accident during a storm– I was in the backseat. Mary, Eddy's mum, is my guardian now."

"I, uh… I didn't know that."

Kate shrugged a little self-consciously. "Why would you? Mary's the best, though. She's basically my mom."

Her breathing seemed to be back to normal, so Anthony untangled himself from her. "Here, let me just–" He went to the librarian desk and grabbed several tissues.

He handed them to Kate when he returned and she wiped her face. "How do I look?"

Her eyes were still red and her eyeliner was smeared but the only word that came to mind was striking and Anthony knew better than to say that. "Maybe wash your face before next period," he suggested with a lopsided smile. He offered her a hand to help her off the floor.

Kate accepted his help with a small thanks. He tried to shrug it off but she shook her head. "No, seriously– thank you. You didn't have to be so nice."

And all he could think was that it'd never occurred to him to do anything else.

#kateanthonyweek #anthony x kate #kate x anthony #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #bridgerton #random excerpt from longer fic #mostly dialogue because this is still half formed #modern au #high school au #no beta

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egipci · 7 months

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oh I NEED to know more about the 5+1 Mary finds out

hey hey hey-- ok so for a while now I've been thinking about writing something like "five times mary suspects and one time she knows John and Dean fucked," which is a terrible, terrible title but that's the gist of the story. There's a number of very obvious moments where a J/D revelation might happen in S12, e.g. what does she hear at the Asa Fox wake? There are all sorts of myths around Sam and Dean, surely there were also rumors about John. But there are also some that are less obvious, like, when she goes through the memory box, what if she finds pictures of John and Kate that Sam and Dean kept because they have so few pictures of their dad, and she asks Dean about it? Imagine watching him go through another "Jump the Shark" style melt-down, etc? Or finally in s14, why the fuck is Dean's greatest desire to bring back his dad rather than save himself and the world from Michael? None of these glaringly point towards an incestuous relationship, but the suspicion in itself is a cool character exploration of Mary.

Part of the hold-up with the actual writing of this is that I don't really have a strong grasp on how I want her to sound yet, which can be masked by some 2nd person trickery, but I already did that once, so I have to undertake a s12 rewatch, and commit to read more to shape that voice, or cleave off the story into two or more stories, one of which would be just about the "time she knew," which is (under the cut for spoilery reasons)

inspired by the s14 revelation that she and John are sharing a heaven + Dark Side of the Moon. A scene or more where she has to watch John's greatest hits, which may or may not include some incriminating VR-style memories, which I think is probably heavy enough to be its own story.

Anyway, since you went through all this rambling, a little bit from what would be the ending (I write my endings first [shrugs]):

John leaning against the counter, barefoot, coffee cup up to his face covering his mouth but even then she can see his eyes smiling, and Dean smiling too, open eager eyes, his sweet soft voice when he says hey from across the room. Not at her, he can’t see her. So much younger than she’s last seen him and her heart twists not for the first time for the decades of his life she’s missed. He pulls the bedroom door shut behind him and lets go of the handle slow and careful and crosses the room. He rises to his tiptoes, wraps his arms around John’s neck, thoughtless, practiced, leans his weight so so they’re together, thigh to thigh, their bellies pressed together, their ribs, their faces only far apart that John can look down at him grinning, his hand first at Dean’s hip, rucking his shirt up, then around his skull, tilting, before he opens his mouth to Dean’s cheek, sinks his teeth into the soft padded swell under his eye. They laugh. Then Dean buries his face into John’s neck, and John sighs. He closes his eyes. Next to her he says he waited a long time.

#my fic

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stars-of-kyber · 2 years

Note

“real smooth, tripping over air.”

Look.... This got completely out of control. I'm sorry lol

So I looked at this prompt and went look this is perfect for the Childhood best friends AU I have in my head so I sat down to it. It is so far 10K words long and I'm still finishing it.

I even made a lil moodboard yay

Doesn't it look cute?

Anyway to bussiness, I'll post the first part in chapter one and then I'll get a chapter two to finish it.

_________________________________________________________

By the time Anthony, about to turn seventeen years of age, departed from Aubrey Hall for his last year in Eton, he left behind his mother and father, all six of his siblings, the youngest one being little Gregory, who was just a toddler, his beloved stallion and his best friend Kate.

Anthony Bridgerton met Miss Kate Sharma when he was 8 years of age and she was 6. He had walked into his mother’s favourite drawing room, intending on finding her to complain about something Benedict had done, his annoying little brother trailing close behind him, ready to defend himself against any and all accusations, true or not.

He had not expected, of course, to find his mother accompanied in the parlour. Sitting on her favourite chaise, Violet Bridgerton was fanning herself, her pregnant stomach clear against the blue day dress she was wearing. Across from her sat Lady Danbury, who Anthony was rather familiar with and knew well enough to stay politely out of range of her walking stick, a young woman who was probably just a few years younger than his mother, and a young girl munching quietly on a biscuit, her arm tight around a china doll.

“Ah, my darlings.” His mother crooned, beckoning them closer with a wave. “These are my eldest two, Anthony and Benedict.” She patted Anthony’s cheek affectionally, her other hand on Ben’s back, but speaking to the women across from her. “Boys, you remember Lady Danbury.”

They bowed their heads to the older woman, mumbling their hellos and how do you dos at the same time.

“Lady Danbury is visiting the Sharmas, they’ve just moved right next to us.” Violet’s practised warm smile to the Sharmas had not stopped Anthony’s frown.

“To Crake?” His eyebrows were drawn together, and his mouth pushed into a confused line. Violet opened her mouth to reply but Benedict had already beaten her, his puzzlement joining his older brother’s.

“But Aunt Billie and Uncle George live in Crake!” Benedict turned to his mother, perplexed. “Where will they…?”

“Not Crake.” His mother interrupted before the conversation spiralled completely out of hand. “On the other side of the Lake. On Norwood House.” Twin ‘oh!’s’ escaped the boys’ lips. “This is Lady Mary Sharma and her daughter, Kate.”

The introductions were finished and the conversation continued around them as Anthony decided if it would be polite to complain about his brother in front of company when his mother let out an excited gasp.

“Why don’t you and Benedict show Kate around the lake and the edge of the woods, Ant?”

“Oh, it’s a lovely idea.” Lady Mary was already pushing Kate up. The young girl’s eyes were incredibly wide, her brown curls wild around her, her doll clutched to her chest.

“But she’s carrying a doll and all. She’ll slow us down!” Anthony’s whine reverberated in the room, his mother tutting at him. “And she’s a girl!” The way he said it, it did sound like an insult, and Kate most certainly took it as one. Before any of the Ladies in the room could scold Anthony for his rudeness, the young girl ruffled indignantly and stomped hard on his foot, quite on purpose.

That was the moment Anthony Bridgerton fell head-over-heels in love with Kate Sharma. Or that was Ben’s retelling of it. Anthony was not particularly in agreement and, personally, he wasn’t exactly sure how well Benedict’s six-year-old brain could be relied on.

But from that moment forwards, Anthony and Kate became inseparable, Ben tagging along after them, being the, sometimes unwilling, third party to all their silly schemes, and many times the mediator between Anthony and Kate’s endless bickering.

He had sat with her in the tree house a few days before Edwina was born, her hand wrapped tightly in his, her head laying on his shoulder.

“What if Mary does not love me anymore after the babe comes?” Her question was mostly a whisper while her eyes remained firmly shut and Anthony had been quite certain she was trying her hardest not to cry.

“Mary already loves you very much.” It was quite true, he knew. Mary was a devoted mother, always trailing after Kate with her heart in her eyes. “What reason would she have to stop?”

“Well, she’ll be the baby’s real Mama...” He scoffed at her words and she turned to her head to peer at him, her brow in a furrow.

“Mary is your real Mama.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, impatient about the fact that Kate could not see it. “She tugs you in bed every night with goodnight kisses, does she not?”

“Yes, but…”

“And she reads you stories and gives you kisses and cuddles when you get hurt, yes?”

“Yes.”

“She asks Cook to make your favourite dish whenever you’re feeling blue and sometimes lets you have more servings of dessert behind your Papa’s back.” He pointed out. “And doesn’t she let you climb into bed with her when it’s storming?”

“She does.”

“She does all the things Mamas do, so why wouldn’t she be your real Mama?” Anthony’s voice was filled with the type of certainty only children could have.

“Well, I suppose…” She mumbled, her voice a little bit less sorrowful.

“You’re actually quite very lucky, I’d say.” He continued conversationally. “You‘ll only have to share the attentions of your mama and papa with one sibling. Soon I shall have four.” His mama had sat him and Ben down a few months previous to announce they’d be having another baby brother or sister soon. To Anthony, the three that he already had were more than enough, but his parents did seem very happy about it. “And anyhow, being a big sibling is really quite fun.”

It really was, even if Benedict sometimes annoyed him endlessly, Colin tried to eat all his cookies and little Daphne had broken his favourite wooden figure Aunt Poppy had brought from her visit to Lisbon.

“Your siblings are really nice.” She nodded, yawning into her hand, her eyes drifting closed, her face much more relaxed than it was earlier.

“I’m most certain your sibling will be just as nice.” He agreed, leaning his head back against the wall of the tree house, allowing her even breathing to lull him.

“I hope I’ll be a great eldest sibling, just like you.”

“Of course, you’ll be. You’ll be brilliant at it.”

That afternoon, they fell asleep sitting in their tree house, her head on his shoulder and their fingers entwined and twin smiles on their lips.

Kate had also been his first kiss. It had been a dare from Benedict, who had not really believed she would actually pull through with it. But he had very badly underestimated eleven years old Kathani Sharma’s stubbornness and competitiveness. He watched open-mouthed as she crossed the space between them to Anthony, who had been skipping stones by the lake shore, with a purposeful stride, tugged him down (he had grown taller than her the previous summer and Kate absolutely hated it) by the lapel of his coat and pressed her lips very firmly to his for a five seconds before storming off to collect her prize from his shocked little brother, leaving Anthony staring at her completely dumbfounded, gaping at her back, both of their faces completely red.

Later, she shared the entire raspberry pie she won from the bet with Anthony. It was only fair.

When he left for Eton for the first time, she stood in the entryway of Aubrey Hall to see him off with the rest of his family and promised she would write all the time and he’d better write back. She hugged him for a very long time and then threatened his life if he ever were to find a new best friend in his time away. He had assured her that the position belonged firmly to her and she should not worry.

And as certain as the sun rose in the sky every morning, Kate’s letter came in weekly. She’d tell him about her days with Edwina and his siblings, about her lessons with her governess, about the books she read and her new hobby of watercolours. In return, he’d tell her about his lessons at school, about the good and bad teachers, about the terrifying headmaster and about the boys in his dormitory. Some of the lads had tried to tease him about it but gave up after they realized how very unbothered Anthony was. He’d have Kate’s letters, he didn’t care about much else.

And every time he returned home, there she was, waiting for him with a blinding smile on her lips.

The summer was theirs. They’d run wild in the countryside, getting up to all sorts of misfits. Benedict had taken up drawing and now he’d always have his sketchbook pulled up to his nose while they sat under trees or on their branches, the tips of his fingers black with charcoal.

There was some feeble attempt to stop them. Kate was quickly turning into a young woman and it was not quite proper to have her run alone with two young men unchaperoned. The concerns for Kate’s reputation were easily dropped and there seemed to be an implicit understanding between their parents that eventually Anthony would end up marrying her. His father had even once said something along the lines of ‘If Anthony won’t I’m sure Benedict will.’ which had Anthony sulking for the following three days.

He’d be lying if he said he did not care for the idea. He would have to marry eventually. He was the firstborn and it would be his duty to continue the Bridgerton bloodline. And Kate was his best friend in the world, the one person he knew his heart and soul, with whom he could trust his deepest fears and wildest thoughts. And his mother had always said the best marriages were the ones forged between very best friends, after all. And she wasn’t really bad to look at, with her wild curls and big doe-like eyes. In his mind, it was all pretty simple. He’d finish his studies in Oxford, return home, marry Kate and live quite happily afterwards. He wouldn’t have to suffer through seasons in London, flocked by silly debutants, he’d have his future viscountess and, if the past years were anything to go about, life with Kate would be really quite fun. But Anthony had dedicated very little time to think about it. He’d rather spend his free days at home with Kate and Benedict than dwell on thoughts about the future and he’d always have so much to do at school, it was quite easy to forget the topic entirely.

His mind was distracted by thoughts of home and his summer before he enrolled in university, Cook’s raspberry pie that always waited for them every time they returned from school, of the seventh baby sibling that would be joining the family by the end of the summer and if Mother would allow them to go swimming in the next few days while Benedict dozed, his head lulling to the side as the carriage made its way back to Kent. He watched absentmindedly as the green fields shone under the summer sun, the landscape growing more and more familiar until they were pulling into Aubrey Hall’s drive, a cluster of people waiting for them in front of the house. As the coach pulled up next to the marble steps, stirring Benedict of his nap, he began to recognise the people waiting for them.

There was his mother, her belly already pronounced under the waistline of her dress, and his father holding little Gregory, who was trying desperately to escape his father’s arms. Lady Mary stood next to his mother, as calm and serene as ever. And there was Daph and Colin side by side. His second brother had hit a growth spurt during the 6 months he’d been away, Kate had informed him in her letters, and had finally surpassed Daphne in height, much to his sister’s annoyance. Edwina stood between Eloise and Francesca, the three sporting girlish smiles and childish joy. And right behind them…

The coach had already stopped and Benedict was climbing out of it by the time Anthony’s eyes locked on Kate. Kate, who he hadn’t seen since the end of the previous summer as she had been visiting family in Somerset when he returned home for Christmas. Kate, who was beaming at him, her entire face lit up with her smile. Kate, whose wild dark curls were trapped in a loose braid over her shoulder, her midnight blue-green dress shining under the midday sun.

Kate, who looked like the most beautiful thing Anthony had ever seen in his entire life.

She was already next to the carriage, greeting Benedict when he moved to get out. Something had changed, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. It was still Kate, the big, brown eyes, the black curly hair, the long legs and slender arms. But there was something new about her. Something new about the way she held herself, shoulders firm and head held high proudly. Something in the air around her made her skin glow and her eyes shine. She was not the scrawny teen he left behind last summer, apparently growing into her long limbs, her dress waist hugging her body beautifully as she moved in fluid, graceful motions.

He couldn’t stop looking at her.

It turned out to be a problem, stepping down from the coach with his eyes glued to her. Worried shouts ran through the open air as his foot completely missed the step, his hand reaching for the carriage’s door in the last possible second, just a hair away from tumbling face-first into the grovel.

“Lost your footing there, did you?” Kate was standing in front of him, laughter in her voice. And by God, he’d give anything to get her to keep laughing like that. He took the hand she was offering to steady him, a thing he’d done a million times, and yet now, as their fingers touched, a jolt of electricity ran up his arm straight to his heart. “Are you alright?”

“Just… lost my balance.” He mumbled, the tip of his ears turning red under her gaze.

“Clumsy.” Her hands reached to fix the lapel of his travel coat, wrinkling her nose adorably before throwing her arms around his neck, crushing her to him. He could barely breathe as he wrapped his arms around her waist, enjoying the way her body fit perfectly into his. It always had. How had he never noticed it before?

He could spend the rest of the day like that, their arms around each other under the sun in front of the house, but they were interrupted by Gregory, who had finally managed to wiggle himself out of his father’s grasp, running straight to Anthony’s legs and he had been forced to let go of Kate to be able to scoop his little brother up. Behind Kate’s shoulder, he could see his father watching them, amusement glomming in his eyes while his mother smothered Benedict in kisses.

“Katie, Ant!” Greg babbled, waving his chubby arms wildly to show her that his brother had arrived. His mother had written that Greggy was very much taken with Kate, always toddling after her as she brought Edwina to visit his sisters at Aubrey Hall.

“Yes, Greggy. Anthony’s back.” She smiled up at the two brothers, patting Gregory’s hair softly. Anthony wished she’d run her fingers to his hair next.

“Love, allow Benedict some space to breathe.” Edmund had his hands softly on his wife’s shoulders as she pulled away, tears glistening in her eyes. “Perhaps save some of those kisses to Anthony, yes?”

“I don’t think it’s Mama’s kisses Anthony wants,” Benedict mumbled under his breath. Both Anthony and Kate’s faces turned completely scarlet as the Viscount elbowed his second son, Lady Bridgerton rushing forwards to greet her eldest, beloved boy.

“Did you notice something different about Kate?” Anthony had been trying to work up the nerve to ask his brother the question the entire way up to their bedrooms to change from their travel clothes, a bit afraid of the answer he would get.

“Apart from the fact that you spent more time staring at her today than usual, you mean?” Benedict shot Anthony a look from the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, Ben, apart from that.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring the teasing smirk on his brother’s lips. He was too dignified to even try denying his brother’s quip. He had spent a good amount of time staring at Kate.

“No, nothing in particular. Why?” Benedict shrugged.

“I don’t know. Something looks different in her.” Anthony tugged at his cravat nervously.

“Perhaps she changed her hair a bit?” Benedict offered, completely uselessly.

“That’s not it.” Anthony sighed, shaking his head dejectedly. He couldn’t say exactly what had changed about her and it was driving him mad. “It’s something about her…”

“I can’t help you, mate.” Benedict shrugged again, stopping at the door to his room. “She looks the same to me.”

Anthony couldn’t help but think that, for an artist, his brother was really quite unobservant.

Dinner was an informal affair. Apart from Gregory, who in his childish excitement managed to fall asleep before it was time for them to sit down, all the Bridgerton and Sharmas were in attendance. Anthony sat amidst the chaos of his family, his eyes still fixed on Kate who was sitting between him and Benedict. She looked breathtaking under the light of the candles, her curls escaping her braid, framing her face in a dark ring of hair.

“Anthony!” Her voice snapped him of his reverie and he noticed she had been talking to him. Behind her, Benedict was grinning humorously.

“What?” She huffed in annoyance at his question.

“I asked you if you are excited to go to Oxford!”

“Oh, Oxford, yes.” He nodded, his mind already flying away from him as he watched her take a bite of her raspberry pie, the sugary red filling tainting her full lips crimson. “At the end of the summer. Right.”

“What’s wrong with you today?” Her voice was laced with amusement. Next to her, Benedict wasn’t even trying to hide his cackling at the interaction.

“I just….” He shrugged, trying to focus on his own desert. It tasted like summer afternoons hiding in the tree house, giggling with dirty hands. “Long day. Travelling.”

“I found it perfectly pleasant,” Ben added, after a huge bite of pie. Kate rolled her eyes and Anthony huffed.

“That’s because carriages lull you to sleep.” She said, at the same moment Anthony grumbled annoyedly:

“You slept the entire way.” The three of them exchanged looks before they burst out in laughter. It felt as if life was back to normal. The three of them laughing together as it always had been.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to relax now that you’re back.” All the air seemed to escape Anthony’s lungs in one quick huff as her hand wrapped around his softly under the table. Anthony’s mouth was open, but his mind was devoid of anything to say back to her. No teasing quip, no thankful remark, not even a silly barb. The only thing on his head at the moment was her bright smile and their bare hands laced together under the tablecloth.

Anthony was saved from having to say anything when his father stood from his seat at the head of the table, raising his flute in a toast for the return of his boys and his eldest son’s graduation. Glasses were raised with cheers and joyous cries, laughter ringing as Edwina and Eloise tried to clink their glasses only to spill half their lemonade on each other.

Throughout the entire chaos of celebration, Kate’s fingers remained tightly entwined with Anthony’s.

“You know, Brother,” Anthony turns on his seat at the edge of his bed to find Benedict staring at him, his face alight with mirth. He was by Anthony’s bedroom door, completely carefree as he leaned on the jamb, only in his partially opened white undershirt and sleep pants. “You used to be better at keeping yourself together than that.”

Anthony considered for a minute if he should play dumb and tell his brother he had no clue what he is talking about, but he decided against it. There was no point. Benedict had already noticed his struggles and denying it would only be a waste of time and energy.

“I don’t understand what is wrong with me.” Anthony dropped back to the bed with a groan, tugging on his hair forcefully with his hands.

“There is a straightforward explanation to it, Ant,” Ben said, sitting next to him on Anthony’s bed. “You are a fool. You’ve always been, especially for Kate.”

“I’ve told you,” Anthony said from between the fingers covering his face. “There is something different about her.”

“Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe there is something different about you?” He lifted his head to stare at Benedict with a confused frown.

“What?” What could have changed within him in the past that Ben had realized and he hadn’t? Could his brother really understand his feelings better than he understood them himself?

“Perhaps you’re simply not so smooth anymore, you know, in your old age.” Why did he ever expect anything serious from his brother? Of course, some teasing barb would come out of it. He dropped his head back to the mattress dejectedly.

“You are ridiculous and I’m not certain why I still listen to you.”

“You could barely get a full sentence out all night.” Benedict’s mirth made him groan.

“I got distracted, that’s all.”

“I just hope that I do not end up like you in my old years.” He added with a dramatic flare of hands.

“I am two years your senior, you arse.” Anthony tossed one of his bed cushions, hitting him on the side of the face which sent both brothers rolling with laughter.

“I am still smooth, thank you very much,” Anthony grumbled as their laughs started to die down.

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am!”

“Well, Brother.” Benedict rose from his seat, tossing the cushion back to Anthony’s side. “I wish you all the luck on your endeavour of speaking a full sentence to Kate tomorrow, you know, with all your smoothness.” Anthony groaned, remembering the whispered promise of her returning tomorrow for their game before she jumped onto her family’s carriage after dinner. Benedict’s humorous laughter followed him out of the room.

The following day would clearly be a long one.

By the next morning, Anthony was very close to deciding on not even leaving his bed at all. He spent his entire night filled with dreams of Kate. Dreams that had him waking up with her name on his lips and his body taunt with desire. Dreams of her body against his, his lips on hers, of his hands under her dress, caressing her long legs, of her nimble fingers tugging on his hair forcefully.

It was not the first time Anthony had woken up to these sorts of dreams, the type that left his body aching and his sleep trousers uncomfortably tight. It was the first time Kate was featured in one of them though. It was always usually some faceless woman, the dream focused sorely on other parts of the body below the neck.

It was much easier to take himself in hand when the dream is about someone he didn’t really know. He felt guilty about doing anything with the image of Kate burned behind his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her plump lips, swollen from kissing, her long tanned legs that went on forever, of the way her body shivered as his hand and mouth explored every single crane and nook of her body.

He tried a million different ways to get his body to calm down, to push her away from his mind enough so he could turn back to sleep, but every time his eyelids fell closed she'd be there, smiling devilishly at him clad only in his sheets. By the fourth time he woke up panting, he’d given up. Shame burned deeply in his chest as he reached to unlace his trousers.

He was standing in the entrance hall next to his mother and Ben when Kate arrived, Edwina having already dashed after El and Frannie in the garden.

“Mama said she’d be over later today for tea, Lady Bridgerton.” She kissed the Viscountess’s cheek.

“That’s quite alright, my dear.” The moment Kate stepped closer to Benedict and him, Anthony’s nose was assaulted by an unfamiliar smell. It grew stronger by the second and at the moment her arms wrapped themselves around him, it hit him so fully it overpowered all other of his senses.

“You smell different.” The words jumped out of him before he could even think about them. His mother gasped, crying out ‘Anthony Bridgerton’ in outrage at his rudeness and Ben’s face was red and breathless as he tried to hold back his roar of cackles, but his eyes remained on Kate. She had taken a step away from him, looking completely taken aback, trying and failing not to look hurt, sending a painful pang through his heart. He hadn’t meant to offend her. “Flowery?”

“It’s probably the lily soap Mama’s cousin got me for Christmas.” Her eyes assessed his face, trying desperately to read him. He could feel his mother and Benedict’s eyes on him as well, but he was still looking at Kate.

“It…” He wracked his brain, trying desperately to get it working enough to form a fully coherent sentence. It didn’t help at all that his body seemed to be conjuring back the images of last night’s dream. “It smells really good.”

“Oh.” Her mouth is parted in surprise, her eyes impossibly wide before her lips curl in a sweet smile. “Thank you.” Her grin turns teasing, her eyes glinting with misfit. “But if you think complements will make me give you my Mallet of Death, you are very much mistaken, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“My mallet, you mean.” Her laugh sends jolts of electricity through his entire body.

“Your Uncle George gave it to me.” She poked a finger at his chest.

“It was not Uncle George’s to give. It was Aunt Billie’s.” This push and pull felt good, comfortable, the two of the bickering as they’ve always done. “And she’s given it to me.”

“But Uncle George named it, so it was his right to give it to me,” She snapped.

“Ah, but the set belongs to Aunt Billie, so it’s mine.”

“We shall see about that in today’s game, I suppose.” And with that, she turned around, Anthony was once again flooded with the smell of lilies from her hair floating behind her as she walked away, leaving them to keep up. And he stood there, his mouth agape, with Benedict dwarfing next to him.

“I do see why these two are Billie and George’s favourites.” He could hear his mother mumble to herself as he scrambled to follow Kate, Benedict right behind him.

Watching Kate with the black Pall Mall mallet clutched to her hand, her coppery skin glistening in the afternoon sun and the wind blowing on her hair is one of the strangest things Anthony has ever experienced. She is a vision in her purple day dress, her arms bare, little beads of sweat forming on her forehead and her most carefree smile adorning her lips.

Anthony managed to snatch the green mallet before Colin dashed for it, Daphne completely comfortable clutching the purple one while Benedict held onto the blue.

Most of Anthony’s concentration had to go to being able to keep up with Kate’s banter without getting completely distracted by the sweet smell of her new soap or her joyous laughter or her bright smile or her beautiful skin or her ridiculously long legs. And as a result, he was being thoroughly trounced at the game.

Every time he aimed a shot, the sound of Kate’s laughter or one of her teasing cheers would reach his ears and his ball would go completely astray. The only person behind him was Daphne and it was her first year playing.

He noticed Ben and Kate seemed to be enjoying themselves at his expense. Kate because she was as fiercely competitive as him and Benedict because he thrived in making fun of Anthony’s newfound inability to have rational thoughts near Kate.

The moment his ball rolled to a stop in the perfect direction to Kate’s, he realized it was all lost. The gleeful jubilation in her eyes was enough to prove he was, as of this moment, completely done for in the match.

“Oh Anthony, it’s such a shame!” It was clear to anyone listening how very not sorry she was for his predicament.

“Kate.” He groaned in warning.

“Wouldn’t it be just horrible if someone hit your ball away from the game?” Her tone was all fake innocence, blinking her eyelashes prettily as she moved to her own ball.

“Don’t.” He warned but it was of no avail. With a triumphant smile, she pulled all her body weight into her swing, forcing her ball to collide with his, sending the green one flying down the sloppy hill and out of sight.

She whooped, jumping in circles around Anthony in joyous celebration, engulfing his world in a blur of dark curls and lily scent.

“Players have to stick to their balls I’m afraid, Ant.” Anthony stared at her as she teased, her blinding smile flashing at him.

There was a whack next to them and they watched as the blue ball hit the black one, making it follow the green’s path towards the valley and trees at the bottom of the hill. Without noticing, Kate had grabbed a hold of Anthony’s bicep, squeezing it angrily as she watched Benedict grin, her mouth open wide.

“You should follow your ball, Kate!” Ben was leaning on the shaft of his mallet, his sleeves, like Anthony’s, rolled to his elbows, his smirk shameless as he mocked her. The murderous glare she was shooting his brother promised hell to pay for his actions. It would be wise for Benedict to watch his back in the following days. Maybe lock his windows before sleep. “Do try to spare Anthony his arm. I think he’s quite fond of it.” All eyes turned to Kate’s fingers around Anthony’s upper arm, turning pale from the force of her grip around his muscle. She dropped his arm with a shake of her head and huffed.

“Come, Anthony.” And with a flip of her head, she was marching down the slope towards their balls, her mallet dangling next to her. Anthony tried to follow, but his legs seemed to be malfunctioning, his body refusing to obey his brain, which in turn was completely taken by the sound of her voice and the smell of her skin.

His legs tangled beneath him, almost sending him straight to the ground. His arms flayed around for a moment before grabbing into Benedict for support to remain standing.

“Real smooth, Brother! Tripping over air.” His entire body was shaking with laughter as he patted Anthony’s shoulder affectionately. “I’m glad to see you still got it.”

Anthony was left with no choice but to follow the path Kate had taken, listening to the sound of her grumbling about their predicament. Even the sigh of her angry frown would send his heart dancing a jig into his chest And he couldn’t even keep his annoyance at her or Benedict for removing him from the game or her theft of his mallet. He wasn’t even really bothered when they both found themselves sitting in a puddle, his laughter joining hers as they ended up on their bums in the mud.

#my writing #my fanfic #Bridgerton #writing #fanfic #anthony bridgerton #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #Best Friends to Lovers #Childhood Best friends AU #Oh no she's hot #It's is 6K of Anthony making a fool of himself #please forgive me #Benedict is having the time of his life

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darlacore · 10 months

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[ maia reficco, cis woman, she / her ] - was that DARLA DUEÑAS i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the TWENTY FOUR year old who has been in nightrest for FIVE YEARS and works as a cashier at poppies has a reputation of being ENERGETIC, but also INSECURE. they reside in LOW POINT & people in town usually associate them with BREAKING FREE OF THE CAGE YOU'VE LIVED IN, MAKING UP FOR LOST TIME, TRYING TO LIVE LIFE IN THE BARBIE DREAMHOUSE. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

tw for neglect ( stage parent vibes ) , death , drugs / overdose ( light mentions / implied ) .

to understand darla , you must get the bigger picture. born to maria dueñas and maria alone , as she likes to put it.

maria herself was a short-lived actress. the movie she was in was big for the time and people were certain she was going to be someone big - it didn’t happen. roles were hard to come by that weren’t the cutesy sidekick or best friend, and maria’s agent wanted more for her than that. most of her younger years were spent attempting to break out , to get into the mainstream , but she was just that girl that was casted aside.

by the time she was 20 , maria’s career had fizzled out - not even background roles or non speaking parts were being offered , and she was all but dropped from her agent.

darla has never met her father, as it felt very … forbidden to speak about him or ask questions. anytime she dared, it was shut down. she knows very little about him from the small discoveries over the years.

falling pregnant at 26 , alone and scared , maria did the one thing that she knew : pushed darla into acting. if she couldn’t have a blossoming career , the reason for her failures would carry on her dreams whether they liked it or not.

her father was never informed of her existence , though i’m sure by now he has something of an idea.

since she was small, her mother wanted to have more for her daughter. by the time she was 6 months old, darla already had been in commercials + television roles. because she was such an easy baby, it wasn’t hard to work with her.

in my mind she got her start a - la mary kate + ashley , as the youngest sibling of a sitcom. was mostly there to look cute, but as she got older, it became something she had actual part in. in ended when she was only 6, but by then, maria was used to the checks continuing to come in - so the search was on for the next best thing. the search never stopped , actually. it became her life goal to make darla a fucking star.

mom was definitely stage mom. never knew when to ask her daughter what she wanted, and darla never learned to speak up for herself. this is a trait that’s stuck with her ever since , the meek girl never speaking up when she’s uncomfortable , too afraid to loose everything she has and to be at the end of her mother’s wrath once more. everything was about maria , never about darla. her own feelings were set aside and taken over by what she thought her mom wanted. mother knows best.

her career grew over time. she never had major success , such as a lead role , but she definitely has had notable roles in different movies and television shows. never achieved mary kate & ashley duo-star, although that’s what her mother wanted.

think of her as a girl no one really knows , but she’s everywhere : very much mckenna grace or young bailee madison. if they needed a young girl to cry her eyes out , darla was there first thing.

NEGLECT TW / by the time darla was 10, her mom was going out and using darla’s money to party - to experience the ‘teenage’ years in hollywood she never got but always wanted. darla would have to be at a set early in the morning and her mother would just barely be coming out of clubs and bars, leaving young darla to fend for herself. oftentimes , she’d find a ‘sit in’ babysitter so she didn’t have to spend hours on set with her daughter , instead fully exploring the dark side of what hollywood had to offer.

she had a long running show from ages 10 to 18 --- some hbo show that she doesn't know if she can bare to think about anymore. her coworkers on that show became her pseudo family and essentially watched her grow up -- think shameless and it's young cast. they taught her how to drive, embarrassing first kiss stories, the whole nine yards.

after the show ended, she fired her own mother as her manager and tried to cut ties with her as best she could. it was for the best, though the outcomes of it all were not what she was expecting.

DEATH TW , OVERDOSE TW / old habits die hard and with her mother using her money , still keeping hold of her bank account and dumping as much from into her own , maria accidentally overdosed inside of their shared apartment from the drugs she’d bought while her daughter was on set. darla's new manager had found her, and relayed the news to darla.

that was it. 19 and packed all her things up --- looking for a place to get out of dodge.

all roads led to nightrest, after investigation into finding her father ... or any other kind of family. little did darla know her own mother was from the area, though not nightrest itself. she arrived 4 years ago and has stayed ever since. living off her residual checks from her childhood works and trying to solve her family mystery.

.......

can be snarky as hell, a little bit of an airhead, but she means well. witty, sarcastic, all the nine yards.

decided to be more social than she had been in a while and got a job at poppies about two years ago. she's not the best and frankly lacks quite a lot of social awareness that should've been taught to her growing up, but she tries!!

honestly just trying to have a fun time now. parties more than she should, is a bit immature but usually means well

the murders freak her out yet she doesn't leave despite having the abilities to. she thinks it'll be like she's abandoning those she's become close to in the town.

she yet to process her mother's grief relatively healthy. she's all about ignoring it instead, and will skirt any question about family / siblings / etc because she .. essentially has none, at least biologically.

love love love pink. is so excited for the barbie movie she's going to explode. calls her house the dream house because it's decorated like a girls dormroom.

trained in dance from ages 3 to 13, and sometimes competed competitively. her mom was unfortunately booted from a competition and thus they were not allowed back, meaning darla would no longer be training because her mom got mad.

drives a cute little subaru. do not ask her anything else because she nor i have any idea

loves pop culture. loves the 2000s.

yes she WILL buy ur love! cash, food, clothes! pls love her.

is an angel all around

wanted connections ....

older sibling / parental figure ( 25+ ) ; these people have darla’s best interest at heart. they could know about her mother and not agree with her pressure , instead taking the girl under their wing one way or another.

bad influence ( 25+ ) ; these people want to see darla burn , essentially. not in a way that means like. bad, but they want to rile her up - see what she does , get her into trouble even unintentionally.

ex ( 23 - 26 ) ; they broke up for whatever reason, but can still be on good / bad terms , most likely more than a year ago.

ex friends ; these people are no longer friends with darla for whatever reason. could be on good or bad terms.

flirtationships ( 23 - 26 ) ; she sucks at flirting n being subtle but it could be so cute.

friends ; they’re friends. that’s it.

family friend ; their parents knew darla’s mom. could be friendly or not really care about each other.

people from los angeles ; they may know her ? or of her?

people who can help her process everything w her mother

people who can help her find her father....?

#nightrest:intro #hi:3 #neglect tw #death tw #drugs tw #overdose tw

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deadmunds-ghostbee · 2 years

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Will you be updating any of your fics soon? No rush! I’m just thirsty 😂

I’m sitting at just about 10k for part 3 of engagement series for burnerraccount. Hoping to keep it under 15k!

Who knows abt how fast I’ll be tho. It’s the girlbossing time of year at my job and it’s harder to write on top of other commitments 😵‍💫

Once that’s done I’ll hunker back down on love doesn’t burn. Particularly chapter 12 and 13! Once that gets a rhythm I’ll post chapter 8 and get back to regularly scheduled updates for that.

Hopefully then part 4 of engagement fic might come around the bend during/after that? I’m thinking of focusing a lot on Kate, Violet and Mary in that one, but it doesn’t have a clear path.

I also have a fun little modern one shot idea atm so who knows if I do that too!

In the meantime, enjoy an excerpt from part 3 of my engagement fic series.

Funnily enough, this passage takes place right in the middle, in the mind of our dear Mr. Dorset before he makes a chaotic decision:

When Mr. Dorset first heard that the royally-sponsored wedding between Lord Bridgerton and Miss Edwina had been broken, he was not wholly surprised.

Any scandal of that degree was something to raise one’s eyebrows at and his acquaintance with both parties of nuptials did not change that. However, in the proximity of his position Mr. Dorset privately thought that if there was an engagement in the ton to be broken, it was that one.

He did not claim to be a mind reader. His expertise was in anatomy rather than psychology, after all, but it was plain to everyone who cared to notice (and it seemed that Miss Edwina didn’t) that Lord Bridgerton was rather obsessed with the elder Miss Sharma and not his betrothed.

The man inelegantly ogled her figure whenever she was in sight and even went so far as to cradle an ungloved hand around the back of the Misses frame at the public venue of the ascot races.

As a gentlemen, Mr. Dorset’s first instinct was to separate the two of them, but he suspected lord Bridgerton would leech himself back to her side in that dismissive way of his the second they broke contact.

Not that he could blame the man. And quite frankly, neither could any gentleman in the ton with functioning eyes. When word broke that not one but both of Lady Danbury’s wards from abroad were beautiful beyond belief, the dash to their doorstep was more vigorous than the ascot itself.

The fact that the elder sister was six and twenty may have deterred the younger or more superficial men, but Dorset found that many shared his belief that her striking visage was more than enough to make up for the detractor. Even then, after her unconventional parentage was made clear, Miss Sharma’s insistence that she was not interested in a match of her own did not stifle interest.

It was only when these factors were coupled with rumblings that she was passive-aggressive in nature and unnervingly measured in her control of incoming suitors, did men begin to consider her affection more trouble than it was worth. Mr. Dorset, however, knew privately that these men deserved to be on the opposite end of such scrutiny. In his mind, it only made her more attractive.

Mr. Dorset did not care to control and he did not care to be controlled. He only wished for the independence to pursue his studies alongside someone who had the independence to see to her own aspirations. Miss Sharma’s quick wit yet startling care for her family only complimented these qualities all the more—that, along with the luscious thickness of her hair.

This found Mr. Dorset as sympathetic to Lord Bridgerton’s keen interest as any, but he thought his own methods of expressing that interest far more logical and polite, as well as within the limits of propriety.

The real puzzle of the situation was Miss Sharma herself. Despite her fervent dislike of the viscount, she did not shy from his untoward if not absentminded advances; they seemed to go below her notice altogether.

After he flubbed the day at the races with his immature deception, Mr. Dorset did not care to think about it very much. But once the engagement with Miss Edwina was announced he did consider asking Lord Bridgerton if he could study his brain. How a man of such intelligence in other areas could make such a foolish decision was beyond him.

It was no surprise then, that mere weeks after the (not entirely surprising) broken engagement and Miss Sharma’s subsequent fall, that Lord Bridgerton was again leeched to her side at every opportunity.

Though murmurs had indicated she was still to set off for India despite Miss Edwina’s unwed state, it seemed that she was settling in England after all.

Mr. Dorset wondered if he should ask her himself. He also wondered that, if it was all true, if he really wanted to know why. Because the way that she looked at the viscount as she floated around the dance floor in her stunning gown at the Motram ball—well, Dorset was no fool.

With the Queen’s abrupt proclamation that she was, in fact, the one to call off the match between Lord Bridgerton and Miss Edwina, there was little beyond gossip stopping Miss Sharma from marrying the viscount herself. It would be silly for Dorset not to take heed of that, considering their past and the image right in front of him.

And yet…Mr. Dorset still found himself hoping for a moment alone with her. For a dance. To feel her stern yet playful stare trained on him as heated interest pooled in his limbs.

He, once again, could not blame Bridgerton as he escorted Miss Sharma to the floor for their second dance of the night.

She was by far the most impressive and formidable woman in the room, but she had a free, devoted spirit as well. And the jewels and dresses she wore coupled with her wit, her shining eyes, her soft curls against her knife-like features…it was mesmerizing.

An utter pity that he never stood a chance.

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #kathony #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #asks

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nutellaneedsanap · 3 years

Text

Almost a Dream

Jason awoke with a start, the senses he honed as a street kid warning him that something was wrong. It wasn’t a noticeable shift, something a more normal person wouldn’t notice, but to a person with his training it was glaringly obvious. The slight shift of the blankets, the dip of the bed…a quick peek confirmed what he already knew. There was someone else in his bed. The blue-eyed boy kept his eyes lightly shut, feeling the warm body next to him shift ever-so-slightly. Discreetly, he opened his eyes and peered at the figure that appeared next to him, gauging her threat level.

She was a smaller girl with blueish-black hair, likely of asian-descent, and a wiry-muscular frame not unlike Dick’s. Deciding that she was asleep, (therefore not much of an immediate threat), Jason went to move, planning on getting Bruce. He had only just begun to sit up when she pounced.

She gave no warning before lunging forward, giving Jason’s throat a quick jab that left him gasping for air. Taking advantage of the moment it took for him to catch his breath, the girl grasped his hair at the root and brought his head down on her knee. A telltale crack sounded throughout the room and internally, Jason groaned.

“Ahhh, Alfie’s not gonna be too happy about that.” His voice had a slight lisp, another sign pointing towards a broken nose. His assailant scrambled to get off the bed and backed towards the balcony, her hands quickly touching her ear lobes. She did not seem to like what she found, her face quickly settling into a scowl.

“I don't know who you are or what you want from me,” she began, settling into a (rather good) fighting stance. “And I don't care. I will be leaving and you will not stop me.”

Jason looked at her, grasping his nose that had begun to leak a small trail of blood.

“What the hell?” He wasn’t screaming but he sure wasn’t whispering.

“I’m not exactly sure how you do things in France, but I'm pretty sure most parents teach their children to not break into someone’s house, sleep next to them like a weirdo, and then break their nose!”

There was a chance that the bluenette couldn’t understand him(there was no shortage of immigrants in Gotham), but Jason hadn’t learned more than basic French yet. Technically, learning the more common languages was a part of his training as Robin, but he had kind of forgone those specific lessons. And why would he put in all that time and effort learning French when he could be reading more books from the Manor’s library?

She blinked at him. “What do you mean, I broke in? I apologize but sir, you are not pretty enough to pretend to be so stupid.”

The black-haired boy blinked right back. He may not know French but he does know an insult when he hears one, so he fires one back. “Well fuck you too.”

The girl scrutinized him, her expression screaming “Is that the best you can do?”

“Oh? You want to go? Fine. My middle finger salutes you and your assholeishness. Calling you an idiot would be an insult to those who truly worked hard for the title.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“There is a special place in hell for you, ya know that?”

The girl cocked an eyebrow. “I’m aware there is a special place in hell for me, it's called a throne. And those are bold words for someone who literally kidnapped me, but go off I guess.”

It didn’t take much more for the pair to dissolve into a screaming match, the bluenette yelling in French and what he thought was Cantoneese and Jason using more than a few of the Spanish phrases he had picked up from his dad and other folks on the street. Jason was in the middle of one of his more strongly worded combinations when the door slammed open, Bruce and Alfred standing in the doorway.

The both of them took a moment to examine the situation, Alfred accessing Jason for injuries while Bruce switched on the Batglare™. “Who are you, and how did you get here?”

The poor girl looked exasperated.

“I don’t know how I got here!! Last thing I remember was collapsing into bed and the next thing I know I wake up to the face of this,” she pointed at Jason, “creep who doesn’t even have the decency to talk to me! I keep on asking him how I got here and why he took me but he just won’t answer. He’s pretending that he doesn’t know French, but who in Paris doesn’t know French?!? I mean, sure, there are immigrants, but who the hell would immigrate to Paris nowadays? What with Hawkmoth akkumatizing people day and night.”

She paused before flopping down on the floor, dejected. “Today was supposed to be perfect, the day I finally got my soul mark and got one step closer to finding my soulmate, but no, I just had to get kidnapped the night before my 16th birthday!” She put her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake slightly.

Jason looked from the girl back to Alfred and Bruce. “Is she?” he mouthed, thoroughly bewildered. Bruce exactly as Jason felt, while Alfred’s face was twisted into something that resembled pity and understanding.

“Master Bruce, may I have a moment with you?” Bruce sighed and turned to leave. Not wanting to be left alone with the now sobbing girl, Jason followed.

Alfred handed Jason a handkerchief for his nose before he began. “Masters, this young girl has been through quite the ordeal and I will not have either of you using your vigilante intimidation tactics on her, understood?”

He waited until he got a nod from the two of them before continuing. “Good. You know, Master Jason, I read a very interesting book recently about Kate Goodwill and her studies on soulmates. And before you ask, Master Bruce, I do have somewhere I am going with this. The book was absolutely fascinating, the theories, the experiments, simply everything. However, the one thing that stood out to me the most was Dr. Goodwill’s research on the different types of soul bonds, specifically the one that she and her wife shared. Her research was kick-started because no one had heard of their type of soulbond before and it had caused quite the panic for both the young girls and their families.” He paused, making eye contact with Jason. “Their soulbond caused the younger of the pair to teleport into their soulmate’s bed in the middle of the night on their sixteenth birthday.”

•••

Marinette was not having a good day. First, Mlle. Bustier assigned her to work with Lila, Lila of all people, for the end of the semester project in summer school (which she was attending due to her absences as Ladybug and Lila was attending because she was constantly absent for “charity work”), then in the middle of the night, Hawkmoth sends out 1 and ½ akumas (long story), and now she wakes up to find that she was kidnapped by a psycho in her sleep? What the actual FUCK?!?! Where was Tikki’s luck when she needed it?

And ok, sure, she wasn’t necessarily proud of how she handled the situation, but she was under a lot of stress, ok! She woke up in a random kid’s bed with no earrings and no Tikki. And yeah, she probably could have done without antagonizing the boy, but it was so easy and fun to get him riled up! How was she to know that the yelling would bring scarier other people? Ok yeah scratch that she probably should have figured that out herself (I mean the boy obviously had money so it makes sense that he’d have more people around his house) but in her defense she was like, really tired.

She glanced at the closed door that the men had just exited, wiping a few stray tears from her face.

“If only I had Kaliki,” she mused.

But no matter. She already had the beginnings of an escape plan forming in her head. I’ll just need a handkerchief, a piece of twine, and maybe a hairpin to pick the lock on the balcony door, but then how would I get out of the property? A house with a room like this must have crazy security measures… She went on like this for a couple of minutes, formulating her plan before she checked out the window. Three stories up...could normal civilian Marinette survive that jump? I would transform, I still have my earrings, but without Tikki I can’t... She went on like this, thinking of different plans and contingencies. The bluenette was so lost in her head that she almost didn’t notice when the three re-entered the room.

“Miss,” the older man who looked like a butler began. “I deeply apologize for the earlier behaviour of Master Jason.” He gestured to the now apprehensive boy who gave her a little wave. “He has not yet learned French and had no way to comprehend the situation. I was able to hear both sides of the story, and I believe that there has been a large misunderstanding. You were under the impression that Master Jason kidnapped you, correct?” Marinette nodded, more than a little confused. “Master Jason was under the impression that you had snuck into his bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“So what are you suggesting, someone put me here without either of us knowing?” I swear to all things holy if this man accuses me of lying…

“I am getting there, Miss. I assume you are familiar with the soulmate story of Dr. Kate Goodwill?” Marinette nodded yet again.

The man took a deep breath. “I believe this is a similar situation, and that the two of you are soulmates..”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean I...we...what? N-no way.”

She racked her hands through her hair. She... she wouldn’t overlook something like that, right? You were supposed to feel a sense of belonging the first time you met your soulmate and she...had kind of felt that. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. From a logical standpoint, it would explain so much! Why he spoke English, why Tikki wasn’t with her, why her earrings weren’t on… Her face turned crimson as she realized the full implications of the statement. She turned to face the newly named Jason.

“Oh Kwami I’m so sorry Jason! I didn’t mean to, I swear, I was just so surprised and kind of scared and oh Kwami, the first time I met my soulmate I broke his nose and called him every name that I knew,” she smacked herself on the head. “Only you Mari. Oh gosh I totally understand if you never want to talk to me again I’m probably the worst soulmate in existence I just-” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two adults leaving the room.

“You can speak English?” Jason exclaimed, looking equal parts amused and exasperated. “You spent this whole time yelling at me in French and Cantoneese and you can speak English? So much of this could have been avoided if you had just talked to me!”

Marinette gave a nervous chuckle. “Uhhhhh, surprise?”

At his incredulous look, she rushed to elaborate. “Well I thought we were still in Paris and no one has immigrated to Paris in literally two years so I thought that you knew French and the choice to speak English was conscious? Like maybe it was some weird interrogation tactic or something? I don’t know, I was just confused.”

“You thought I kidnapped you?” He whistled through his teeth. “Yeah, I can see why you reacted the way you did. No worries though, my nose isn’t too horribly fractured and I probably would have done the same thing.” They both chuckled.

He has a nice smile, Mari noted. (She wouldn’t know until much later, but Jason thought the same about her laugh.)

“I think we should start over.” Marinette held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I live in Paris, France, today is my birthday, and I think I’m your soulmate.”

Jason smirked, holding out his hand. “Hello Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m Jason Todd-Wayne and I think you are my soulmate too,”

They shook, and that was that.

The End.

Bonus:

Jason: You know, Ethiopia can wait for one more day.

Marinette: It can wait FOREVER.

Bonus 2:

Alfred: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Jason: Would you like to stay forever?

#maribat #jasonette #jason todd x marinette dupain-cheng #jason todd x marinette #fluff #soulmates #soulmates au #jason and marinette being disasters for 2121 words straight

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sofwrites · 3 years

Text

An unexpected visitor

Anthony Week Day 1: Anthony + a Sibling-in-law

prompt: "I've never told you, but..."

On a bit of a slow afternoon, Anthony gets a visit from one of his four (er, five) brothers-in-law.

Themes: Bridgerton family feels, Anthony light angst, bros missing their wives, | Length: 1.4k

ao3 link | masterlist | or read under the cut

Anthony sighed as he smoothed out the indented crease between his brows, shutting his eyes from the seemingly never-ending stack of papers on his desk. What he wouldn’t give to just be at his country home in Kent- away from the grinding parliament meetings and the mind-numbing balls and the-

The season.

Charlotte had received her first marriage proposal just the day before. Barely one month out in society and already his darling little girl was being eyed by every bumbling bachelor and militant mama on the damned marriage mart. And although they had agreed that it was the wrong match (per Kate’s words, “the poor dunce never stood a chance”), he knew it was only a matter of time.

Well, he let out another full sigh, Anthony could at least admit that he likely deserved it for how he’d teased Simon when the shoe was on the other foot.

He tapped on his desk, glancing at the papers before turning his head towards the window. Perhaps Simon was free that afternoon. They could go to the club, play some billiards, have a drink… Kate and Charlotte wouldn’t be back until that evening, the boys (or, men, their father supposed they were now) were off on a weekend trip, and Mary was at that absolutely delightful age where she preferred trips to the park with her cousins rather than her doting papa.

Yes, Simon. It was just a short walk across the square- he could send a valet with a message, or he could go himself and get the fresh air he’s been missing.

Oh, but it was very possible that Simon was out visiting his grandchildren, which he seemed to do at every free waking hour. Anthony understood, of course, but often considered that for a man would have once chosen death over even the possibility of having children, he was certainly an attentive grandfather.

Anthony, who had stood from his seat while in preparation of his plans, slowly sat back down, his back pin-straight in his chair. For a man with possibly the largest family in London, he surely-

But his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and within seconds, his butler was standing in front of him.

“A visitor, my lord,” said Humboldt. “Your brother-in-law wishes to see you.”

Anthony’s brows quirked together just slightly, imagining the four (well- if Bugwell- Bagwell - was included, five) faces that held such a title. When a name wasn’t given, Anthony just nodded, “Well, as you know, family is always welcome.”

And that was true. Anthony couldn’t count the number of times a member of his family had stood at his door, awaiting counsel or help or anything else they needed. And although it sometimes felt like a burden, he almost always liked being the one everyone relied on.

He was surprised to find that it was brother-in-law #4 who entered his office moments later, immediately offering a nod in greeting and dropping down into a chair across the desk. “Good afternoon, Anthony?”

The viscount looked at Gareth carefully before answering, “Alright. And for yourself?”

The younger man shrugged slightly, glancing towards a bookshelf behind Anthony. “Fancy a drink?”

Without any further inquires, Anthony supplied a bottle of brandy and two glasses, maintaining a watchful eye on Gareth as he did so, the pile of paperwork on his desk forgotten.

“You know, I’ve never told you, but I like visiting you the best,” Gareth suddenly announced after three glasses of brandy and ten minutes of small talk.

There was a hint of a smile as Anthony, who despite his... more mature age, seemed to hold his drink a bit better than his brother-in-law. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Well,” the younger man leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You’ve got the best stuff, there’s no denying that,” he motioned to his glass, spilling a few drops onto the carpet. Anthony watched him, his eyes betraying his amusement. He was still concerned over the reason for the unexpected visit, but it was difficult not to find something comical in it. “But also, I just like it,” Gareth shrugged. “I certainly prefer it here than to farm life.”

Over his desk, Anthony nodded slowly, understanding finally crossing over him. “I take it Hyacinth’s still with Gregory and Lucy then?”

At his wife’s name, Gareth straightened on instinct before slumping again. “Still helping with the twins and Lucy, as is Isabelle.” And then quickly, he added, “Not that I mind, of course! I know why she needs to be there. I suppose I just…” With a frown directed into his glass, he trailed off.

Anthony waited for a moment before supplying, “Miss her?”

The younger man sighed before nodding, drinking the final remnants of his drink. “I didn’t expect her to be gone so long and I think I’ve just- gotten used to her. Does that make sense?”

Taking a long look at Gareth, Anthony nodded slowly before letting out a low chuckle. “I think we can all understand the ‘Miss my wife’ sentiment. Even with wives as lovely as mine and yours.”

There was a long pause as the two men sat across from the desk from each other, each stuck in their own thoughts. Anthony couldn’t suppose he knew what it was like to be without one’s other half for as long as Gareth had endured- he supposed that he would never want to find out.

Suddenly, Gareth spoke again. “You know, I never really had a father.”

Anthony stared at a water stain on his desk (left either by Colin or Gregory- he couldn’t remember), hoping that his silence would be enough. He knew very well about Gareth’s complicated past, and could very well remember how unpleasant the baron was while he was alive.

“And you’re obviously not my father- you’re not nearly old enough to be. But my brother passed so long ago and afterward I didn’t have any other family- other than Lady D, of course. And because of that I barely had any family before Hyacinth, and then with Hyacinth came all of you- and there really are a lot of you, you know? I mean 4 brothers-in-law- if you’re only including the born Bridgertons- otherwise 7 brothers-in-law and 7 sisters-in-law, and that’s- that’s madness, is it not?”

Again, Anthony didn’t speak, allowing Gareth to run off with whatever he needed to say.

“And I guess I’ve just gotten used to having all of you for family and that’s really- nice. And you- I’m not saying that you’re my father- I know you aren’t- but you’re probably the closest I have to one and you’re a damned lot better than the one I did have. Though, I suppose you’re somewhere between a father and a brother- you must know that feeling quite a bit.”

To this, the viscount nodded, a small, bittersweet smile on his lips.

“You once terrified me, you know? Not quite as much as Hyacinth did, but you were a very close second, and now, I almost laugh at the very thought. You seem intimidating, but really you-”

And at this, Gareth finally stopped, his head jerking backward. He cast a quick glance at Anthony, seemingly realizing just how much he was talking.

The viscount hid his quirked mouth behind his hand, feigning a pensive, forceful look. Slowly, he looked directly at his brother-in-law. “Really I- what, Gareth? Do elaborate.”

The younger man gulped, jumping out of his seat. “I told George that I’d meet them in the park this afternoon, I think your Mary might be with him. I’d like to walk- sober up a bit, of course.” And then he paused, taking a long, almost searching look at Anthony. “I’d love for you to join me- if you have the time.”

“Oh, thank you, but I-” Anthony began, motioning towards the large stack of papers. But then he glanced at Gareth, who was still watching him carefully as if he were finding something between the hard set lines and edges. And the viscount felt the slightest shock of surprise before the warmth spread over- the reminder that for as much as he looked out for everyone, it seemed that the same was being done for him.

He gave his brother-in-law a true, open smile, one that gave his silent gratitude and friendship.

“I think I can manage an afternoon,” he nodded before standing up and straightening his back. He took another look at Gareth, who wasn’t swaying but seemed on the urge of it, before adding, “But let’s get you some bread and water first.”

#anthony bridgerton #gareth st. clair #bridgerton fic #my fic #dad/bro anthony #we got lonely bros #and just general family feels

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newtonsheffield · 2 years

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Hiii! So just your opinion on something if you don't mind me asking. At the end of ep 7 after that scene in the garden, did Kate spend the night there? How did no one miss her and Anthony?? And how did she go back home? Also if this inspires a snippet, well one would be most grateful

I think she definitely spent some time there.

Anthony at least expected her to be there, so she was there when he fell asleep. I think honestly, everyone else just had more things to consider and it's a little plot hole that allows them time together.

And honestly, I don't think Mary looks in the least bit surprised to learn that Kate's slept with Anthony so... I'm not sure about no one noticing.

But imagine Kate, waking in the very early hours of the morning and she's confused at first, because she's so cold, so she nestles in closer to the warmth behind her, turning and pressing her face into the warm wall of heat and then she remembers.

Anthony's hands and the way they'd shaken just a little as she slid her dress from her body, the way his voice had been just a gasp You're so beautiful. The way his hands had gripped at her, and she knew it was wrong, that there was no way they could be together, not now. That she would go back to india and remember this moment forever when she lay in bed at night, and wondered who it was he married. Who became the Viscountess she was never meant to be. But She'd wanted She had wanted to feel what it was like to be his wife, just for one night.

She slowly opens her eyes, and tears prick at her eyes, there's a soft smile on his face in sleep, younger, and happier, and more content than she'd ever seen him in wakefulness. Content with her in his arms. But she knows what will happen when he wakes. He'll realise what he's done, what they've done and it will be ruined. The perfect night she'd given herself will be ruined.

So she goes. And she slides his breeches on and his shirt (she can hardly run through the streets in her ballgown) with her dress bundled in her arms and she slips in through the servants entrance, and the shameful part of her stares down at the clothes she had helped him shed last night, nodding at the question in his eyes when she knew there had been so much longing in hers: And she tucks them into the trunk at the foot of her bed. Under all of her things.

A tiny memento of him, of the love she felt pounding in her heart that she never asked for, even if he never felt the same way. His scent would fade from them, likely by the time she was home but she would remember. She would remember every second, burned into her skin, the weight of him, the feel of his hands, the way he'd gasped her name. She would remember that.

And That was almost worse.

#bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 2 #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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yetanotheremptypage · 3 years

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I hope i don't seem pushy for immediately asking its just i'll forget it later. Yk how in the book was unused to extravagance and luxury. What if Anthony goes out of her way to spoil her and she does the same for him once? I think prompt 56 would suit it. Thank you once again , your writing is a joy to read everyday❤

no escaping your love #42: the man who has everything (Read 1-41 here.)

What do you buy the man who has everything?

Kate had absolutely no idea, and that was quite the problem, considering her first anniversary was in less than a month.

Mary had been most unhelpful, going back to that whole “paper for the first year” tradition, but she couldn’t just buy him a journal or stationery or something. That wasn’t something you gave your husband, at least not if your husband was a viscount with one of the most profitable estates and land holdings in the country.

Edwina was still trapped in her newlywed bliss; Matthew had proposed to her at the end of the season, and they’d had a winter wedding once Kate’s leg was fully healed. He’d whisked her off to the continent for much of the spring while he did some sort of philosophy thing there (Kate admittedly did tune them out when they started talking about it, but they tuned her and Anthony out just as frequently--of that she was sure) and they’d only just returned.

Neither of them seemed to realize how pressing of an issue this actually was. Anthony was always surprising her with things. Flowers. Clothes. Jewelry. “Just because,” she was certain, was one of his favorite phrases. She would need to pull out all the stops to impress him.

She was finally, finally blessed with inspiration when they arrived in London for the season. Violet and the younger Bridgertons had vacated Bridgerton House just a few weeks before, settling into new lodgings at Number 5 Bruton Street. It meant that Kate and Anthony had now taken over the viscount’s rooms, rooms that Anthony had refused to move into, taking out his own bachelor’s lodgings almost the second he was able upon leaving Oxford.

One early morning, Kate was throwing up armoire doors and chests almost blindly, looking for what she referred to as her painting gown: a lightweight day dress, easy to move in, that she’d stained by accident several years ago, and then repeatedly afterwards. Unable to find it with her own things, she wondered if it had gotten packed in with Anthony’s; she had far more clothes than him, after all, and some of her things had been thrown in with his when packing. So she strode into his dressing room and threw open the first chest she could find.

It was full of men’s jackets and waistcoats, but they were almost certainly not her husband’s. Anthony favored navy and black, occasionally a dark purple or a deep green; this top one, a light blue, looked much more suited to Colin’s or even Benedict’s wardrobe. The deeper she dug, the more dark jackets she found, but they didn’t look like the sort of thing Anthony would much wear at all.

And then it hit her, suddenly: his father’s clothes.

She almost, almost, burst into tears about it (truly, this part of being with child was quite ridiculous), but she managed to keep herself together. But then she smiled, a wicked sort of thing, and pulled out one of the darker jackets and waistcoats. They all looked old, and clearly not well preserved if they’d been sitting in this dressing room for the past twelve years. But she was quite certain that was an easy fix, and she’d just found her husband’s anniversary present.

(And her painting gown, which had, indeed, wound up in one of Anthony’s trunks, along with several other day dresses she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.)

By the time their anniversary finally rolled around, Kate was nearly breathless with anticipation for Anthony to open her gift.

So much so that she ambushed him in bed with it.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said even as he undid the wrapping. She hid her smile behind her hands, watching as he pulled the jacket out.

“It’s your father’s!” she blurted, and his eyes widened. “Well, not exactly. Not anymore. Did you know there’s a trunk of his clothes still in the dressing room? Anyway, I found it when we first moved in, and I knew this one would look so good on you, you know how much I love you in blue, and so I had it altered, for you.”

She was rather impressed with herself for saying all of that in one breath, but Anthony’s expression hadn’t changed. Her stomach fell.

“I’m sorry, if you don’t like it, I can—”

He kissed her, soundly, firmly, reverently.

“Kate,” he whispered as he pulled away, “Thank you. Truly.” There was a tear threatening to slip out of his eye that made her want to cry, too, but instead she kissed him again. “Shall I try it on?”

She nodded and they stood together. She held it out the way she’d seen his valet do and he slipped his arms in as she pulled it up. A perfect fit.

“There you are,” she said. He walked over to her mirror and she followed, standing behind him and meeting his gaze in the mirror. “It brings out your eyes, you know.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever worn something of his and it didn’t feel like playing make believe,” he said, playing with the sleeves.

“Good.”

She turned him to face her, kissing him. “You are a dedicated viscount.” Another. “A loving husband.” Another. “And you will be the best father.” Another. “And I am so thankful I got stung by a bee and was forced to marry you.”

He laughed and lifted her right off her feet, throwing her down on the bed.

Turns out, it was just as fun to put the jacket on him as it was to take it off him.

#thanks for the prompt!#kanthony #kate x anthony #bridgerton #no escaping your love #my fics #my ships

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ashleyfanfic · 3 years

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Ranking the Bridgerton Books

I've read all but one at least twice now, so I'm gonna give my ranking. 1. Romancing Mister Bridgerton - Colin and Penelope since the first time I saw them interact in the show, but their dynamic in the book I like just as much. You get snippets of them being around each other in the first books, but there is a pivotal scene in An Offer From A Gentleman that hurt me into my soul and I have never felt for someone as much as I felt for Penelope in that moment. And then in their book, you can see their friendship grow because as long as he's known her, it's taken him so long to see what everyone else already did. Penelope is amazing, even if she is hiding things from him. The scene in the carriage, but specifically their first time and Colin thinking that he wanted to make love to her in front of a mirror one day so she could see what he saw...lord. Also, Lady Danbury is phenomenal in this book. 2. This was really hard for me to decide which one I liked more, and the truth is, I actually read one of these books more than twice and that was The Viscount Who Loved Me. If you know anything about me, you know that I am a huge fan of Enemies to Lovers, and boy does this deliver on that. I love Kate. She's a whole lotta spitfire and just says things to Anthony that NO ONE else would say because she's adamant that her sister could do better. But then things shift and she sees him differently. The storm scene in the library cemented my love for Anthony Bridgerton. The "Oh Kate" KILLED ME. Dead. The Pall Mall game, which, I'm gonna be honest, if they don't give to us I will be FURIOUS! That shit was legit funny. But then there's the bee, the gazebo, Colin pissing off his brother. And the love story between Kate and Anthony and how these two idiots find love in one another is just *chef's kiss* 3. This was really hard because I loved this book so much. When He Was Wicked is the spiciest of all the books in my opinion. And it's because we start with Francesca being married. You don't see her wedding or courtship to her husband, John, in the other books, you just learn that she was married. And her relationship seems to be a good one. They love and care for each other. But that's not the story that's actually being told. We meet Michael Sterling (and if he's not played by Richard Madden I'll fucking burn the world down), a rogue, rake, an altogether scandalous man, and the cousin and close confidant of both John and Francesca. There's already a flirtation with Michael and Franny before John dies, but Michael would never act on it. Then he dies and both of their worlds are turned upside down. But it's when Michael returns from India and the two are being sought after by others that they're teetering on the edge of something. Michael knows his feelings but doesn't think he can betray his cousin like that, and Franny is just afraid of her feelings for Michael all together. But then there's their first kiss, and then Michael riding to fucking Scotland to seduce her into being his wife, which she doesn't agree to do right off. But the creme de la creme of this book, aside from Franny finally realizing her feelings, is the scene in the cabin when they get stuck in the rain. It's one of the women taking her sexual agency and fucking using it, and Michael is a more than willing participant. That scene was fucking hot. They also have a beautiful Epilogue if you want to read it.

4. To Sir Phillip With Love is a strange one for me. I love that Phillip and his weirdness appeals to Eloise, who I don't think would ever be content with an ordinary man. I could also see someone like Eloise being courted in such an unusual way as letters. What kind of puts me off about this is Phillip's treatment of his children. I get that he eventually catches a clue as to what's going on with them, but through most of the book, he doesn't even bother trying to be close to them. The best part of this book are 1) the brothers Bridgerton storming into their home and trying to pummel Phillip all while Eloise fights them for her man, and 2) the scene at My Cottage where Philip seduces Eloise.

5. While I think this book is the most unoriginal in terms of beginning and end, it's not a bad book throughout the middle. And I'm talking about An Offer From A Gentleman. This series actually shows that Step parents/Siblings aren't all bad, take a look at the Viscount and you get nothing but love between Mary, Kate, and Edwina. But this book goes with the wicked stepmother. Of course it does, it's ripping off Cinderella. The first chapter with the ball had me uninterested and it felt like a slog to get through, but once we get away from the Cinderella aspects and get to Sophie and Ben's actual story, I'm more into it. UNTIL Benedict decides that he's going to wear Sophie down about becoming his mistress. From book to show, Benedict is the most different in my opinion. I can't imagine that guy ever doing what book Ben does to Sophie. When he finally realizes who Sophie is, it's cathartic really. Because on the one had, she's known who he is the entire time, even knew he was looking for her, and said nothing about it. I do love Violet in this book. I love their scenes at My Cottage and I love the idea of a Colin Firth type scene for our Benedict, but the rest of it left me very underwhelmed.

6. It's In His Kiss was cute enough, but my problem with this one is that Hyacinth is in all of the other books as a pesky younger sister, a girl if you will. So, it's really difficult for me to wrap my head around her being a grown woman at this time. And it would take a special man to handle her. Gareth is that man. I love the scenes with Lady Danbury. She shines everywhere she goes, though. I don't know, I just didn't feel this one and I guess it's because seeing Hyacinth grown is weird to me.

7. The Duke and I. If you've seen the show you've read the book, I feel. This book had so much promise until THAT scene. Like, I get it, you're mad about being lied to, but the man was drunk and Daphne took advantage of that. It caused him to start stuttering again, it was so damaging. And she wasn't sorry. I guess that's my real gripe. She wasn't apologetic about what she did. This is the only book I read once.

8. On the Way to the Wedding felt like a lesser version of the Viscount. Gregory wanting Hermione, but having to go through Lucy to get to her... I read this story before and it was done much better. Not that I dislike Gregory or Lucy. I don't. I just don't find either of them as compelling as Anthony or Kate. I don't have a lot of thoughts about this one because once I hit the wedding I was like "I just want to be done with it already". Maybe it was burnout. I don't know. Perhaps if I start with this one instead of saving it for last I'll have a better opinion.

#bridgerton #bridgerton books #anthony x kate #colin x penelope #benedict x sophie #phillip x eloise #simon x daphne #gergory x lucy #francesca x michael #hyacinth x gareth #couple rankings #books rankings

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artxyra · 4 years

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Healing Gotham | Part 1

Prologue

Tim was having an off day. At first he had thought it was due to him surviving off of weeks’ worth of caffeine, but that was not it—not it at all. When Tim had first arrived at Wayne Enterprise, all of its employees were having a rush. Paperwork was thrown around, gather, shredded within seconds of each other. The young co-CEO couldn’t find it in him to care enough until it was lunchtime. An older employee was going around collecting NDA’s from all the new employees—like that wasn’t an everyday experience. Tim had half the brain capacity to contact Bruce for information, and yet he doesn’t do it.

Then Tim returns to the manor, cars from his extended siblings, and family members parked within the gates. Once again, this was not an unusual sight for the coffee addict. Well, it wasn’t an unusual sight until he stepped into the manor.

On one of the couches sat Steph, Cass, and Damian all looking to the people on the other side of the room. Kate stands leaning against the window waiting for the shoe to drop. Tim didn’t know where to sit. He only had two options: sit beside the mess of his older brothers or sit where there was the least amount of space next to his other siblings.

Finally taking in his environment, he notices something scary. Jason and Dick weren’t in their usual moods aka brooding and dramatic but on the verge of a massive mental breakdown. Jason was clutching his hair staring down at his lap repeating the words, “She’s going to kill me” as if it was the end of the world. Dick was mimicking the words with “Not if she kills me first, I’m too young to die”. This was such a shock, that Tim had to take a long sip of coffee to make sure it was true, and even then he had to pinch himself as a reminder that he was awake.

“Master Tim, the amount of caffeine you are consuming is terrible. Perhaps taking a rest would help.” Alfred offers with little room to negotiate, but Tim swears he is fine to which the family butler did not believe. “Uh-huh…” Taking the thermos out of Tim’s hand, the young co-CEO is left with nothing.

“You’re seeing this too, right? Tim asks his siblings that weren’t in the Wayne family as long as the older two. Steph is simply recording the nature of their situation—probably blackmail material for her and Barbara. Cass simply examines her older siblings wondering what has gotten into their heads. She was sure that Bruce was internally panicking based on his fingers tapping against his suit jacket and constant inching to the couch. Looking beside her, it was obvious that Damian hates being out of the loop and was moments away from exploding. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to sit beside Damian for this family meeting.

“What has gotten you three so worked up?” Kate asks from the safety of her position. Watching the three break down may be fun and all, but she had a life to live also outside of her cousin’s BS.

“Master Bruce now would be the best time to explain our situation,” Alfred suggests coming back into the room with a tray of teacups and a pot of tea. The butler knows the family is going to need it after dropping a bomb like this to the newest Waynes.

As much as Alfred was right, Bruce knew he couldn’t keep this hidden. He can already tell that Damian was seconds away from stabbing Dick or Jason for being in such an off-putting mood. Tim would be forever confused until he gets a good rest, Cass may like having someone other then him to talk to, and Steph—well Steph will just be Steph.

Bruce was so deep in thought that he didn’t acknowledge the peak of Jason’s and Dick’s mental break down.

“She’s going to kill me…I would rather face the Joker than be on the receiving end of her anger.” Jason finally speaks something than the mantra he has been chanting for the past hour.

“Here’s how she’ll do it, kill Bruce, then me, and then you. Alfred’s safe because it’s Alfred.” Dick adds pointing to each person he has mentioned, furthering the family’s confusion. Kate, on the other hand, received the message loud and clear and end up bursting into laughter.

“Good to know you find humor in our incoming deaths, Katie,” Dick says pouting with arms crossed against his chest.

“What is Kane laughing about, Father?” Damian asks with a dangerous intent beneath his words.

“In just a couple of days, the Manor Wayne is welcoming an old visitor…my sister… your aunt.” Bruce finally speaks with a heavy sigh. It was if he was preparing for the mental battle this family is about to go through.

“Sister?” “Aunt?” “What?” Various amounts of reactions echo across the room. Every one of his children that had no clue about the oldest Wayne’s sister was just given a wake-up call.

“Yes, I have a sister. She’s my younger sister, and she’ll be staying at the Manor until she finds herself her own place, and this is if she decides to move to Gotham permanently.” Bruce then adds.

“You mean she’s staying here?” Damian cries out, he already hates the fact that most his siblings typically stay in and out of the manor, but to have a new resident just screams trouble.

“Yes, which also means we all need to keep our nightly activities on the down-low. Marin Etta has no idea that I am Batman or that Dick and Jason were Robin, and I like to keep it that way. This means Jason, no bringing anything related to the Gotham Underground, Dick you do what you’ve always done. The rest you better be on your best behavior.”

“Well this is the best news; I haven’t seen Mars since the wedding and that was five years ago.” Kate pushes herself off the wall and goes to hug Bruce. “Call me when she arrives, it will be nice to have a girls’ trip or something.”

“Katie…” Bruce sighs but the look on his cousin’s face says otherwise and it was best to leave this alone. “I will.”

Once Kate was out of the room, Damian loudly growls. “I don’t like this.”

“For once I agree with the Demon Spawn,” Tim says, though in Tim’s mind he wasn’t sure what was happening. His brain acknowledges Kate leaving but the moments before seem like a dazed.

“Tim, you okay?” Steph asks as the person in question sway. “Better yet when was the last time you slept?” She receives no answer from the in and out of the conscious male.

“Why are we just now hearing about this so-called sister.” Damian questions as if he was the only person sane in the household—which he’s not. It’s not like he’s trying to gain as much information about this aunt of his so that he could look her up and do a background check. That is totally what he will be doing.

Bruce, seeming to ignore Damian’s underlying intent, sighs and reply with, “She and I had a fall out when Jason died, and we barely speak. This is the first time in a while that she’ll be back.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” Cass murmurs under her breath evading all the glances her way. It’ll be nice to have seen someone other than her adopted family, but at the same time just how will this new person fit into their family.

“Better yet why do Grayson and Todd know about her while the rest of us don’t?” Damian asks gesturing to his other siblings. “You have no photos of the woman, so why must I believe that you have a sister.” From this Bruce could feel a migraine coming in the longer this goes on.

“Look, Little D, Mari is like a sister or a mother figure to Jason and I. There are reasons outside of this room as to why she is so well hidden. You know that room that Bruce forbids anyone from going into?” Dick replies instead of Bruce. Both he and Jason need to wrap up this conversation to prep for their incoming deaths by Mari. He was definitely sure that Bruce was about to do the same and Mari-proof the manor’s access to the Batcave.

“Na’am,” Damian says begrudgingly.

“That’s Mari’s room and will forever be her wing until she no longer needs it.” Dick finishes off his statement, which clearly did not do anything for the youngest Wayne. He then turns to Jason who was in less of a panic but in more of a defensive planning stage. “C’mon Jaybird, we have lots of pre-death planning before Sunshine returns to the Gotham.”

“Once again, I rather die by the Joker than by her, B-man you owe us so much for this,” Jason states before walking out the living room with Dick following behind.

Bruce sighs heavily and returns to his remaining children, well those that are still awake. Tim had passed out and will most likely be for the time being.

“Father…”

“Not now Damian. I will answer the rest of your questions later. I have a sister-proofing mission to handle.” With that Bruce takes his leave.

“This family can never be normal could it?” Steph wonders as she picks up Tim and places him over her shoulder.

“I agree with you on that. Need a hand?” Cass responds looking at the failing form of Steph’s body as she lugs Tim over to the entranceway.

“Nope, I’m fine,” Steph replies before she and Tim disappear into the shadows of the manor.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Damian states crossing his arms and taking his leave also.

Cass stares at the leaving figure of her younger brother and shakes her head. She knows that Damian would not leave this alone until he hits rock bottom. Let that be her mysterious aunt herself or Bruce making his word-final.

A couple days later at the Gotham City Airport, a woman with a concave bob hairstyle stands outside the pickup area with her three suitcases next to her. Bing. She looks down to see the name Alfred popping up against the screen.

“Yes Alfred, I’m here… I’m still at the airport. No, you don’t need to give me a—” She pauses allowing the Wayne family butler to reply. “Alright, I’ll see you in a few.” With that, she ends the conversation and places the phone in her back pocket.

This person is nonother than Marin Etta Martha Wayne or as the people in Paris, France calls her Marinette Martha Dupain-Cheng Couffaine.

Part 2 >>

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#maribat #ml x dc #sibling brucinette #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #fic: Healing Gotham

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princegeorgeofwales · 4 years

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7 things we learnt from Kate Middleton's revealing motherhood podcast with Giovanna Fletcher

The Duchess of Cambridge preferred labour to pregnancy

"I got very bad morning sickness. I'm not the happiest of pregnant people. Lots of people have it far, far worse. It was definitely a challenge. Not just for me, but also for your loved ones around you and I think that's the thing - being pregnant and having a newborn baby and things like that, impacts everybody in the family. William didn't feel he could do much to help and it's hard to see you're suffering without actually being able to do anything about it."

"[It was] utterly rotten. I was really sick. I wasn't eating the things I should be eating and yet the body was still able to take all the goodness from my body and to grow new life, which I think is fascinating." Kate admitted that because of her difficult pregnancies, she actually preferred being in labour. "Because it had been so bad during pregnancy, I actually really quite liked labour… Because actually it was an event that I knew there was going to be an ending to! But I know some people have really, really difficult times, so it's not for everybody. No pregnancy is the same, no birth is the same."

The Duchess of Cambridge used hypnobirthing

Like Giovanna and other famous mums, Kate tried hypnobirthing too. When asked, "Am I right in thinking you did Hypnobirthing?" the Duchess replied: "Yes! Actually it was through hyperemesis that I really realised the power of the mind over the body because I really had to try everything and everything to try and help me through it. There are levels of it. I'm not going to say that William was standing there chanting sweet nothings at me! He definitely wasn't, [laughing] I didn't even ask him about it, but it was just something I wanted to do for myself. I saw the power of it, really, the meditation and the deep breathing and things like that that they teach you in hypnobirthing when I was really sick and actually I realised that this was something that I could take control of, I suppose, during labour. It was hugely powerful."

Standing outside the Lindo Wing was 'terrifying'

With all three of her children, the Duchess presented her newborn babies to press and to the world as she posed outside the Lindo Wing of St Mary's Hospital in Paddington, London. Admittedly, Kate revealed it was a "terrifying" experience. "What was it like knowing that so many people were outside, after you've given birth and you're in your little cocoon with your new family?" asked Giovanna.

"Yeah, slightly terrifying, slightly terrifying, I'm not going to lie (laughter)," said Kate. "Everyone had been so supportive and both William and I were really conscious that this was something that everyone was excited about and you know we're hugely grateful for the support that the public had shown us, and actually for us to be able to share that joy and appreciation with the public, I felt was really important. But equally it was coupled with a newborn baby, and inexperienced parents, and the uncertainty of what that held, so there were all sorts of mixed emotions."

Of the moment she held George for the first time, Kate, who didn't know the sex of her baby, revealed: "Amazing, amazing. It is extraordinary as I've said. How can the human body do that? It is utterly extraordinary, actually. And he was very sweet. And also sort of relieved that he was a happy, healthy boy."

Prince William and Kate struggled as new parents

The Duchess was very open in how she and husband William fared with their first baby. When Giovanna asked, "How many hours after giving birth did you come out?" Kate recalled: "I… Oh my gosh, I can't remember. Everything goes in a bit of a blur. I think, yeah I did stay in hospital overnight, I remember it was one of the hottest days and night with huge thunderstorms so I didn't get a huge amount of sleep, but George did which was really great.

"I was keen to get home because, for me, being in hospital, I had all the memories of being in hospital because of being sick so it wasn't a place I wanted to hang around in. So, I was really desperate to get home and get back to normality. But I think you think, particularly with your firstborn baby, you think everything is going to go back to how it was. I totally underestimated the impact and the change it had on us from that moment really and I think, unless you've got children, you don't realise. No amount of planning and preparation can get you ready for that moment."

Mum-of-three Giovanna mused: "When you leave hospital and get home [after giving birth], I remember that eerie silence…" to which Kate revealed: "It wasn't that quiet in our household! William was like, 'oh my gosh, is this what parenting is going to be like?' No, it took us a bit of time to get ourselves settled and going again, but that's the beauty I suppose of having a newborn baby. You are pulled to your toughest and most unknown places really that you hadn't necessarily even have thought about before."

The Duchess of Cambridge on mum guilt

When asked whether she struggles with mum guilt, Kate replied: "Yes absolutely – and anyone who doesn't as a mother is actually lying! Yep – all the time, yep – and you know even this morning, coming to the nursery visit here – George and Charlotte were like 'Mummy how could you possibly not be dropping us off at school this morning?' But no it's a constant challenge – you hear it time and time again from mums, even mums who aren't necessarily working and aren't pulled in the directions of having to juggle work life and family life… and always sort of questioning your own decisions and your own judgements and things like that, and I think that starts from the moment you have a baby!

"Also I feel huge responsibility because what I've learnt over the last few years is so fascinating and I definitely would have done things differently, even during my pregnancy, than I would have done now... Because you know - the science - and I found that fascinating to see the wellbeing of the mother – not just physically, you know there's so much information about making sure you exercise and making sure you have a healthy diet and things like that, which yes is definitely important. But the emotional wellbeing of the mother directly impacts the baby that you're growing."

The one piece of advice the Duchess of Cambridge would give her younger self

"If you could write a letter to anyone about motherhood, who would it be to and what would you say," asked Giovanna. "Can I write back to myself? Is that really weird? I think I'd have liked to have written to myself at the beginning of my pregnancy with my first child because I think through I have experienced – not only as a mother but also what I've learned on my journey through, digging deeper into the early years landscape – I've learned a huge amount but I'd really love to go back and tell myself at the beginning of pregnancy, right at the start what things I feel now really matter in terms of being a parent but also what really matters to the children and my children now.

"It's the simple things that really make a difference. It's spending quality time with your children. It's not whether you've done every single drop off and every single pick up but actually it's those quality moments you spend with your child when you're properly listening to them, properly understanding what they feel, and actually when things are going wrong, actually really taking time to think, 'how as a mother am I feeling? Am I actually making this worse for my child because actually this has brought up all sorts of things that I feel rather than just focusing on them and how they might be reacting or responding to certain situations?' That would be another piece of advice I would like to give myself back then.

"Someone did ask me the other day, what would you want your children to remember about their childhood? And I thought that was a really good question because actually if you really think about that, is it that I'm sitting down trying to do their maths and spelling homework over the weekend? Or is it the fact that we've gone out and lit a bonfire and sat around trying to cook sausages that hasn't worked because it's too wet? That's what I would want them to remember, those moments with me as a mother, but also the family going to the beach, getting soaking wet, filling our boots full of water, those are what I would want them to remember. Not a stressful household where you're trying to do everything and not really succeeding at one thing."

The Duchess of Cambridge's 5 Big Questions Survey

On her survey on early childhood, Kate said: "Hopefully it's the first small step into looking at prevention and it's not just about happy, healthy children. This is actually for lifelong consequences and outcomes. I was looking at one of the stats. I think there is £17 billion estimated in England and Wales alone that is spent on late intervention and it's crazy - not only because it's an economic cost but because there is a huge social cost to our communities and our societies. So that's really why I'm doing this. It's going to take a long time – I'm talking about a generational change - but hopefully this is the first small step: to start a conversation around the importance of Early Childhood development."

- Hello Magazine

#Duchess of Cambridge #Kate Middleton #Prince William #Prince George #Princess Charlotte #Prince Louis #2020 #February 2020 #Giovanna Fletcher #Happy mum happy baby #about george

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