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autumn-grace · 1 year

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The Lingering Pain of Empty Hands

Summery: In 1793 Benedict goes missing at a fair. Twenty years later Eloise keeps running into the same man while investigating the case of one famous Lady Whistledown.

A story exploring the complexities of loss.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author Note: This is the first time I post a story on Tumblr. I have a very small idea of what I am doing.

Chapter One: A dead child’s shoes

Rating: M Length: 5.2k

1/10

“I miss you more than I remember you.” - Ocean Vuong

Aubrey Hall, 1799

Violet knew something was different the very moment she stepped into the front hall. She stopped abruptly. Eloise, who was holding onto her hand skidded over the polished floor to a halt a foot in front of her. Sara behind them, with Francesca on her hip and Daphne by the hand almost walked into her.

Looking around, nothing seemed entirely out of the ordinary. A footman had quickened his step into an uncommon speed to disappear through the serving room. It made her notice the slight frown on Ranson's face which was otherwise perfectly under control.

“Ranson, where is the Viscount?”

“Upstairs, my Lady.”

She looked up as if she could see him through the ceiling. “Do we have visitors?”

“Let go of my hand, mama!” Eloise complained and began to tug at her hand.

“No, my Lady.” Ranson answered while she admonished Eloise with a raised brow. It did little, she just continued practising her will. Daphne shushed her in a perfect expression of their nurse, trying to grab her arm. Said nurse was somewhat distracted by the youngest girl, trying herself to escape.

Violet knew not how to put that nagging feeling in her stomach into words. But it made her let go of Eloise's hand and it made her pace to the staircase. Eloise was at her heels, emitting excitement with the sudden action.

“You stay with Sara!”

“But where are you going?” She continued her venture alongside her mother.

“Eloise!”

“Papa!” She quickened her step further, overtook her mother and climbed the stairs to where her father now stood, a few steps down from the landing.

“You are back early.” He addressed Violet, his tone flat. Eloise reached him and jumped towards him. Distracted by watching his wife, he pulled Eloise up to his arm, not listening to her as she began telling him of a herd of sheep. (The one which blocked their carriage for almost two hours on their way here).

“We are. Mother fell ill with a nasty cold. I did not want the children to catch it.” She explained, her voice stiff.

“I am sorry to hear she is not well.”

Violet walked towards him. Going left in order to pass him by, he drew a bit to the side, effectively blocking her.

“Where is Colin?” Edmund looked over her shoulder down to the foot of the stairs where Sara now followed them with Daphne and Francesca. He smiled at them and waved.

“Where do you think he is? Will you let me through?”

“How about we have some tea and refreshments? I was just on my way downstairs.”

She forced him to make eye-contact with her by fixing her gaze upon him. And she knew the moment he faltered and met her eyes. Knew he had done what she asked him not to do.

“What have you done?” She whispered, asking the question anyway.

“Nothing. Violet, I just... I...”

“What!” She enunciated, “Have you done?” She brushed past him. Started to run towards the north corridor. He was at her heels. Eloise screamed behind them, running, too. Sara, in turn, called after her.

It was chaos. First around her and then in the very centre of her heart the moment she fell through the door to Benedict's room.

His bed was gone, his dresser, his shelves empty, the carpet rolled up and pushed to the side, the walls painted in a dull, greyish white. The sunny yellow gone.

“No...” she breathed. Stepping inside, frantically looking around. She turned again to run to the door. She needed to find all his things. She needed to. Energy buzzing through her, providing her with enough strength to bring this room back to its former state.

But then there was Edmund blocking her way.

“Violet, I am sorry...”

“Where is everything? Tell me now. Tell me!” She pushed against his chest so he would step out of the doorway. He caught her hands instead.

“It's all packed away. Nothing is gone.”

“His clothes?” She demanded. “His animals?”

“Violet, I swear...” he started.

“I have never asked for anything much, have I? Have I ever been a difficult woman? Have I? Edmund?” It was desperation forcing her words.

“It was nothing but a museum of despair, my love.”

“You lost our son. You lost him and I not once blamed you for it. The least you could have done is leave me my despair!” She shouted now, certain her voice would break into sobs any second. Eloise, who had first pressed herself through the gap between her father's legs and the door frame, now retreated into the opposite direction, scared by her mother's rage.

“It's all I have left of him, my memory, my pain is the only thing that reminds me that he was real. And you take this from me, too. LET GO OF ME.”

She pulled away from him, from the hands on her arms, from the shocked expression on his face.

“What have I done to you that you punish me so? I asked you to leave me this room. I asked you only of that one thing...”

Now, she crumbled. A sob dragged through her chest and up her throat.

“How could you? That's all that I had left of him.” She cried. “Have you forgotten him? Do you no longer care?” She weeped and when he only looked at the floor, she turned around herself, once, twice.

She suddenly felt as if she stood in her little boy's tomb.

Bloomsbury, May 1814

Ben arrived at work a little earlier than he usually would.

His night had ended at five. Charles woke at least once every hour. Sophie was in and out of bed as many times. He had pulled Alex over to his side of the bed in order to act as a barrier between the commotion and him, but it made the little one restless, clearly feeling he was no longer beside his mama. As a consequence Ben spent all night awake behind closed eyes.

In short, the night was ruff and hoping he could leave earlier made him decide to leave half an hour earlier than usual.

He made it almost to the office building when a carriage came through the gates onto the courtyard, cutting off his path. At first he gave it little notice but then it stopped right by the door he had to enter. And it was when he planned to walk around it that something about the vehicle demanded his attention.

“Have I something in my face?” The young woman who had stepped out of the carriage barked into his direction. With a raised brow she waited for an answer.

“No, Miss,” tumbled from his lips eventually and she made a step closer, folding her arms in front of her body, tapping her index-finger against her arm.

“Then consider not staring. It's rude.” She leaned back into the carriage and pulled out a stack of books, turned and rushed away, her servant at her heels.

Ben had not stared at her so much as at the carriage she had arrived in and the crest drawn onto the dark, polished wood. It could not be. He must simply be wrong. He took a small step towards the vehicle. The coachman nodded at him, suspicion in his eyes.

But he was not wrong, was he? This had burned itself into his memory. It was the crest on the carriage which had driven away from him, had left him behind. After which he ran until his young legs had given out under him and his lungs protested strongly by constricting into desperate gulps for air.

He shook himself out of the memory. Took several steps backwards.

If it was the carriage he believed it to be, it did not matter.

And still, Ben found it impossible to form a clear thought as he made his way upstairs and to his desk. He was so early that he was the first one in.

Not being able to gather his senses proved his work rather difficult. And strangely enough, also a little dangerous as he soon learned, especially considering he was an illustrator. He tried to prepare his workload, gathering his materials and sharpening his pencils. He noticed not how his heart thumped all the way in his throat until the sharpening-knife logged itself against the side of his finger, leaving him bleeding.

Frustrated, with blood spreading over his tongue as he sucked on the wound, he shoved his chair back, creating an irritating sound as the wood carved into the floorboards.

“Are you alright, Mr. Atwood?”

He had not noticed Edgar entering the room. The young apprentice, barely sixteen, looked at him, part worried and part confused. Ben nodded, put the knife on his desk.

“I cut myself. No worries.” He explained a moment later. Edgar had found his desk since, put his bag on the floor to its side. He sat down on his chair and began to search through his things.

Ben in the meanwhile had stood up and made his way to the window from where he had a view over the courtyard and found the carriage still there. It was early morning, not many had started their workday yet. He wondered what that girl wanted here? Surely, she did not have an appointment. Public business started at eight. That was another hour and a half away.

“Mr. Atwood? My mother gave me this to give to you. It is for you and Mrs. Atwood.” Once again Ben tried to pull himself to attention, he turned his head and the boy stood only a few feet away from him. Had he paws for feet?

He held his hand out, a package in it. The brown paper was held together by a single string, Benedict smiled and shook his head as he took it. The thumbing in his throat lessened considerably. “Your mother is truly a kind woman, Edgar.” Making sure Edgar looked at him, he nodded in thanks.

Unwrapping it, his first assumption was proven true, this was for the boys, a cardigan, looking just about Alexander's size, with some room to grow into. It was held in a soft beige colour with a small rabbit stitched down to the front. He would love it.

“Mother says it's a light wool and will be perfect for summer.”

His shoulder softened and his nervous heart eased. The kind gesture warmed his insides and made it possible to get his thoughts in a line. “Tell Mrs. York how very grateful we are.”

“Gladly,” Edgar nodded and smiled before taking a seat on his desk. Ben tied the cardigan into the paper again and as he looked out of the window before returning to his desk as well, he found the carriage gone.

That night he dreamed of nothing but running after the carriage. His eyes snapped open every time that he fell to the ground in his dream, unable to contain the speed needed for it to stay just barely out of his reach. Forcing himself to inhale and exhale and with the sensation of his son's hand firmly logged into the material of his nightshirt, he drifted off to sleep after. Over and over and over.

It was the forth or fifth time that night, when opening his eyes the room was brightened by a little bit of light. He was unable yet to contain and deal with the terror running through his veins before he looked to the side and met directly with Sophie's worried gaze. She was feeding Alexander, who was still half asleep. Charles on the other side of her, not yet awake.

“It's not real,” she whispered and he swallowed, lifting his hands to his face to rub it, rub some sense into him. Seeing little stars dance in front of his eyes made him stop, his hand then reached out until he found Sophie's.

He rolled to his side and into her, his hand slid under her nightdress, up the top of her leg and then to her swollen belly.

“You tease.” She breathed and clicked her tongue softly. He grinned as he buried his face into Alex's back, searching her skin for any traces of movement underneath.

Thinking only one thing: but what if it was true?

And then he forgot about the carriage. He forgot about the dreams. As he always did.

It was only weeks later that it was coaxed to the surface again.

Usually it was months and years between those instances. And usually it brought about only a fleeting emotion, an understanding, a few nights of nightmares. Ben could file it away under confusing childhood memories and recognise that it no longer held any power over him, and then go on about his life.

After all, it was twenty years ago. He had been a boy then.

At this point, he had a life, it had become his own. That thing that was his childhood nothing more than a distant memory, one that sometimes, rarely these days, clenched at his heart.

He might never forget the sheer panic of watching the carriage with his father in it drive off without him, but he remembered it today as through thick, coloured glass. That and mostly everything else from before as well. He had a brother, Anthony, that had always been true, he was always sure of that and how he had been his best friend. He remembered an enormous garden and a large forest and sometimes it all was so clear he could wander through it in his imagination. He remembered always holding onto his mother's hand.

But how it came to it, his father leaving him behind, pushing him to the ground and going home without him, the years had washed that away, corroded his memory into something fragile, something unreliable. Trying to reconstruct what happened nowadays led him to a different conclusion every time. So he tried to let it rest, let the joy of the presence direct his course. His father might not have wanted him then, but the same was not true for his wife or his sons now. Nothing else mattered.

Still, he found it a sheer impossibility, that thought. Sometimes, when he indulged in it. How could someone not want their child? Every time the memory fought its way to the forefront of his mind he could not fathom it. They would have to go over his cold dead body in order to get to his sons, and then there was still Sophie to fend them off. No question asked. He would protect them, would never let any harm come their way, he had sworn that.

Naturally, he was not a naïve man, had seen children suffer alongside himself. Had shared the last bit of his dry bread with a little girl that showed him a warm place to sleep. Two days later he watched a man throw her body on the bed of the carriage which picked up the dead every morning. Throwing her shoes into the alleyway for the next poor thing. (It was how he had gotten his own pair of shoes only mere weeks before that. They had belonged to a boy named Peter, who was very good at stealing apples.)

He had seen a woman sell her son. He had witnessed a father beat his daughter until her skull creaked. He had seen it all and more. He was not naïve, but it still rendered him incapable of understanding the how. Not when he loved his own so much it made his chest hurt.

It all boiled to the surface again when he needed to return to work late on a Friday night to bring in a revision to go into print early on Saturday. He went past Mr. Atkin's house to gather his final approval which cost him an extra twenty five minutes of polite conversation with the man's daughter in law, he would much rather have spent with Sophie. Ultimately he would have stayed an hour or two if it meant a raise.

It was then almost half ten when he excited the master lithographer's office.

He took on a quick step through the cold spring air. With his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, he watched the cobblestone under his feet. His bag dangled in his back and as he did so often these days, he used the way to calculate their current expenses and how the new baby would influence them. They could not wait for their new little one, it was a firm and undeniable truth. But it would mean that a new suit had to wait for at least another eight months to a year and Sophie needed new shoes, it was a priority.

Being distracted by numbers, he nodded to the night-guard and crossed the street with a quick glance in every direction. He considered taking a shortcut when it happened, he crossed a puddle in a confident jump and ended up swinging backwards as he almost but not quite ran into a woman standing in the shadows of a house.

She raised her hands and shrieked as he tried to regain his balance and not tumble to the pavement. It was in vain, he landed on his behind.

The woman exhaled in a huff. “You again!” She stepped out of the shadow and looked down at him and he looked up at her, raising a brow as he too recognised her. “What are you doing here?”

“I shall rather ask you that question, Miss.” He drew his knee in and climbed back onto his feet, rubbing his hands together and looking at his shoes hoping not to have scratched the leather... or, and he tried to look around himself to see, destroyed his trousers.

“I am an independent woman, my reasons are my own.”

“I see...” he bit the insides of his cheeks so as not to grin, these words could come right from Sophie's mouth.

She raised her chin, responding to the humorous challenge in his words. Their eyes meet and had it not been for the moonlight casting down on them, it would have been impossible to tell, but her eyes were red and swollen and there was still some wetness to her cheeks.

The sadness in her eyes jolted through him because he felt as if he recognized it.

“Who are you, anyway? So I know which name to give to my best friend in case you plan an abduction!”

Something rattled in his soul. “I, Miss. I do not plan an abduction. In fact I am very much interested in you finding your way home safely.”

“Your name!” She repeated and rubbed her thumb under her eye.

“Atwood. My name is Ben Atwood. I am an illustrator for Atkin's Press”

“Ben Atwood. Well then, nice to make your acquaintance. I must be on my way.”

She took a hold of her frog and took off. “Stop. Miss. Tell me your name!” She made a full spin, danced around another puddle. “Bridgerton is my name, Eloise Bridgerton. Remember it well!”

It was Sunday afternoon when Ben sat on the floor of their small flat in order to think hard and clear about everything he knew about his childhood. Despite the sun flooding the room, most of the occupants napped. On the sofa their two boys slept soundly. On his thigh rested Sophie's head winding herself halfway around him, making sure every part of her body was warmed by the sun.

His hand rested absent-mindedly on her belly and her fingers were folded around his wrist from the last time she had moved his hand to where she felt the baby move. On his other knee lay a notebook and in his hand he held a pencil.

He was almost sure to have been born in the winter of 1786. He assumed that his family lived in London, or at least most of the time. He was firmly sure that he had two brothers, one older and one younger. He was seven when it happened. He could not with certainty say what exactly happened.

On the open page stood the name Bridgerton. Nothing more.

Bridgerton.

Admitting that it sounded familiar frightened him and so instead of exploring that familiarity not only around the name but also within the face of Eloise Bridgerton, he tried to come up with a reason for why all of it was but a coincidence.

His eyes wandered through the room and he inhaled sharply when his sight rested on his youngest with that same nose and those distinctive brows and oh, if his eyes were to open, he would look right into the very same orbs he had identified in that girl on Friday night.

Sophie's palm stroked up the length of his arm, pressed her thumb into the muscle of his shoulder and went all soft as it ran up his neck and landed just at his jaw. He followed her hand and he took her wrist in his and kissed her palm, only to place it where it had been on his jaw in order to lean into the touch.

“Tell me where your mind is at,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes. “I cannot for the life of me remember how it came that I ran after that carriage.” Her fingertips caressed over his forehead and then into his hair, combing through them. “I don't think my father left me there on purpose. And I know not why. I try so hard but I cannot reconstruct the course of events.”

His dream went like this without a fail: His father shook him, his angry face right in his, screaming at him, he saw it happening but there were never any actual words, and then he pushed him, kicked him when he was already on the ground. Ben then scrambled to his feet and ran for all he was worth, he ran and ran and ran until he woke up the moment he collapsed and understood there was no catching up with it.

His understanding of what actually happened, any possible memory had since suffered drastically. Once, when he was younger, he had understood that this dream had not been the reality, but the reality had been what slipped from his mind. It was the weaker opponent. And not only that. If he thought about it today, a father himself, he doubted the reality was any better than his dream, that it had occurred under less brutal circumstances, that his father had treated him less poorly. For if he cared, would he not have felt his son’s heart and soul shaking so feverishly through his whole body, emitting from him in waves? Should not a father have felt that and be driven to act with love and kindness?

While Ben contemplated his past with gritted teeth, Sophie picked up the notebook on his knee.

“Bridgerton,” she read in a soft voice and his attention turned to her so easily. “Ben Bridgerton.”

“Benedict,” The name fell from his lips in nothing but an accidental sigh.

“Benedict!” Sophie repeated and set up as fast as her pregnant body allowed. Their eyes met. His breath quickened. His heartbeat, too. And while emotions rushed through him he found impossible to name, she smiled at him. Her other hand landed on his chest.

“It's alright,” she tried to sooth him as he knew not where to with his hands. He found the notebook that had fallen down between their bodies and he wrote it down as if he was afraid to forget it again. He put down Benedict right over the Bridgerton and his heart thumbed audibly far up in chest. He almost felt sick with the sensation.

“I don't understand why I cannot remember it,” he whispered as her arms wound around him. His chin rested against the side of her head. “I was there. I did not fall on my head.”

“I know. It must be frustrating. It will come back. But you cannot force it.”

But he wanted to. With irredeemable impatience.

He wanted to will it into existence, needed it.

Then Sophie's lips found his jaw and she pressed an open, wet kiss against it and he succumbed to her love. Some of the winding frustration eased from him.

“It's alright. We will figure it out,” she whispered. “Just not now. It needs to come to you, not the other way around.” She was right. She was. It did not change that inkling deep in his bones that it never would.

Her hand drove along the inside of his thigh. “Sophie,” he breathed and lowered his head to catch her lips with his. His eyes closed. Her lips against his the most familiar feeling, her love, her calm, her presence, all at his fingertips.

She was able to distract him in a matter of seconds. He was easy in that way.

There was nothing calming about the storm that followed. He crawled to his knees and he drew her up to her feet and they fell into the bedroom and against the door within two heartbeats. He let her open her church-dress fearing he might rip it, but it did not stop him from falling to his knees in front of her, lifting her leg up over his shoulder while holding her strongly with his hands against her hips.

“Sophie,” he mouthed against the inside of her thigh and she panted in something he would describe as helplessness. But she was not helpless. She was his wife, the strongest woman he knew, the cleverest, too and the most loving. “Soph,” he breathed, air gulping through her lungs.

“Shhh,” she begged, shakingly. The dress fell away over her shoulders but she was so unsteady despite his strong hold that her hands fell on top of his head. The heavy smell of her arousal filled his nostrils and she gasped just as loudly as he had called her name a moment ago when his lips closed around her pearl.

“Ben! Oh.” He took two fingers to her middle, gave her warm, swollen lips a caress, gave her no warning before driving them up into her. And her accompanying scream was just barely contained by her hand falling against her mouth. Her hips began to chaise his movements. Within a mere minute she came apart above him.

He put her foot back on the ground and he stood up and her hand was still over her mouth, but it was shaking and tears short from overflowing. As he pulled her hand away, words overflowed her lips. “I need you. I am all empty.”

He needed to close his eyes and steady himself against the door so weak did her utterance make him. Deep in his stomach the already tight knot of arousal twisted into something primal and his hips twitched in answer. He kissed her hard.

“How I need you, too,” he growled, his voice deep, almost guttural. As he already turned to their bed and drew her with him, she had the sense to lodge a chair under the doorknob while simultaneously trying to draw her dress away over her head.

Ben let go of her hand, snapped his braces free and let his trousers fall to the floor before he fell backwards onto the mattress, the wood giving off a highly offended creak and Ben raised a brow. Come August this bed had to hold another little body. Then she stood before him, freeing herself of the half corset which bound her soft breasts into a firm hold.

The afternoon sun hugged her body as she regarded him, a smile graced her lips and joy sparkled in her eyes. She looked like a true goddess as she opened the braid her hair was confined in. It fell over her shoulders in cascading golden silk and touched down to her protruding belly. The wetness between her legs glistered and he arched his shoulders into the bed as lust shook his whole body and made him infinitely harder, impossibly even. He needed to take himself into hand and give himself a stroke to calm the peaking of deep and utter arousal burning in his thighs and his stomach and over his whole skin. It did not calm his panting breath.

Only Sophie was able to do that after she crawled over his body and rubbed her wet middle right over his hard, pulsing length and he forgot how to breathe. Their hands found each other holding onto the other, a single lifeline, making them one being.

She rubbed her pearl against the weeping crown of his cock and she sighed so visceral he almost thought it had made her climax again. Their intimate locks tangled and rubbed together and he felt how her wetness seeped onto him, he rutted upwards, once, twice, his head beginning to spin.

She handled it, managed his lust driven clumsiness and took him into her hand, guiding him into her. Her hand was back over her mouth but it did not prevent her throat from whining or her chest from vibrating with the moan that followed as she took him into her.

He swallowed and grunted his teeth together, finding footing against the mattress simultaneously and he moved up into her as she moved up as well and fell down in answer. Their rhythm was confused and chaotic until it was not and he sat himself up supported by one hand to meet her kiss which became frantic before it became urgent. It swallowed some of the noises, but not all.

And when they both neared their climax, their eyes wide open, their expressions wild, they shushed each other in some strange idea of reason and when it then happened their jaws clenched shut, Ben wound upwards and Sophie cramped down over him. Their bodies possessed a life of their own as they tensed and then spasmed through the aftermath.

At some point Sophie had fallen into his arms and they both breathed heavily, open mouthed, their eyes locked, and they did not blink as in fear something could rip their souls apart if they did.

Ben did not need to be anybody but who he was at that moment. So deeply in love and utterly grateful for his children. He made a living for his family and did not despite the way in which he did it. If he served only that purpose for the rest of his life, he would one day die a very happy man. Would know that the hardships of his early years had brought the greatest gift imaginable to him.

And yet.

Something deep in his heart was in unrest. Something worked along the unconscious lines of his mind. There were hands that held his, once, a long time ago that he longed to take again, if only to shake them in a proper good-bye.

Here is part TWO

#bridgerton #benedict x sophie #benophie #au #benedict briderton #sophie beckett #fanfiction #violet x edmund #not beta read #previously posted on ao3

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newtonsheffield · 2 years

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Wait which book did it confirm Edmund was a virgin? Violets short story? I haven’t read that yet but now I’m very interested 👀👀 obsessed with this!

It’s in Violet’s short story yeah.

Sweet little Edmund was a virgin but very enthusiastic. His plan for their honeymoon was to take her to a roadside inn for an entire month, because he didn’t want her to be embarrassed about the fact he planned to keep her in bed the entire time. Hilarious given every single one of his children is an absolute tart for their spouse, and I doubt Anthony shared any such qualms about the fact the household Met the new Lady Bridgerton and no one sighted her for six months after that as Anthony guarded her like a jealous dragon.

#violet x edmund #kathony #anthony x kate #molly’s asks and answers

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sandsunseagrapes · 2 years

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brb sorting the entirety of Taylor swift’s discography into Bridgerton ships

#kathony #bridgerton #Kate x Anthony #colin x penelope #violet x edmund #daphne x simon #hyacinth x gareth #gregory x lucy #I’m of the firm belief Benedict and Eloise are gay as fuck and I’m not satisfied w any ship for them so they get their own damn playlists #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #francesca x michael #omg I almost forgot Francesca (just like her family)#I love Francesca do NOT take this as libel #the bee show

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gulnarsultan · 1 month

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Hello, can you do a headcannon Yandere father Edmund Bridgerton and Yandere mother Violet Bridgerton with their first born daughter who is the second oldest after Anthony Bridgerton

Yandere father Edmund Bridgerton and daughter reader and yandere mother Violet Bridgerton (Ledger) headcanon.

~ You were born a year after your older brother Anthony. You were the second child in your family and the first daughter of your parents.

~ Edmund cried with joy when he heard that he was now the father of a daughter. When Violet held you for the first time, it was like the world stopped for a moment. From the moment they saw you, they both promised to protect you and make you the happiest girl in the world.

~ Although Violet also gets help from maids and nannies for her other children. It was always her and Edmund who took care of you.

~ They try to spend time with you as much as they can. Doing activities together is worth treasures for them.

~ They always feed you with the healthiest food and drinks. They literally both panic when you get sick. They both refuse to leave your side until you get better.

~ They ensure that you have the most expensive and perfect of everything since your infancy. Your birthdays and holidays are literally going to be very ostentatious.

~ You are not allowed to have a boyfriend. Even if you have a secret relationship, your parents will sabotage it. Maybe they may let you marry. If you will live in the same place or be neighbors with them.

~ No one, including your siblings, dares to disrespect, upset, harm or insult you. Because Edmund and Violet are following you like two protective dragons.

#yandere edmund bridgerton #yandere edmund bridgerton x reader #yandere violet bridgerton #yandere violet bridgerton x reader #yandere parents #bridgerton #yandere bridgerton #yandere bridgerton x reader

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bridgerton-bard · 2 months

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Bridgerton Audiobooks Included with Spotify Premium

I just thought I would put out a note to let anyone who was unaware know that all of the audiobooks in the Bridge-verse written by Julia Quinn are now free to download/stream for Spotify Premium subscribers.

Obviously this isn't paid promotion, but if you had wanted to pick them up, this is a great time if you're a spotify subscriber. I was surprised they were included due to the popularity of the show, but they're all there. I'm currently listening to To Sir Phillip, With Love.

Happy listening! 😘

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1donoow · 11 months

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MIX FANDOM FANFIC REC PT.1

[Fanfics i've read]

Edited

......

♡ - smut

Mostly fluff

......

The letter room [richard alonzo muñoz]

MPHFPC [Alma peregrine][Enoch O'Connor]

encanto [the madrigals][camilo madrigal]

a series of unfortunate events [klaus baudelaire][violet baudelaire]

harry potter [weasley twins][neville longbottom][luna lovegoods]

narnia [Edmund pevensie]

triple frontier [santiago garcia]

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

———THE LETTER ROOM———

richard alonzo muñoz

@marvel-and-mischief - matching pyjamas

——————MPHFPC——————

@dapperappleton - imagine being an ymbryne and having your own loop

- imagine taking care of clair and olive

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

Alma peregrine

@vostokovasmelina - sleeping next to alma lefay perigine would include

@multifandomfix - imagine alma loving it when you paint her and the children

@zafirosreverie - an special case

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Enoch O'Connor

@she-writes-with-kisses - quiet

- space jump

@dapperappleton - imagine being able to create death and dating enoch

@clean-bands-dirty-stories - shirtsleeves

@klineinie - blanketed

@imaginefan - story time

@y2fandom - sending him cute things

@frost-queen - no pain

@maeby-bby - you fluster me

@pink-princess-pussy-pop - dating enoch would include

————— ENCANTO ——————

madrigal

@cloud-9ine - madrigal reacting to being called their full name

@camilosnovia - there's two of them

- Madrigal Adults reacting to child!reader giving them gifts

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Camilo madrigal

@sesamestreet47 - camilo w/ a tall s/o

- Camilo with a shy, sweet girlfriend

- friends

@nixthewolf - camilo simping over reader

@radiorenjun - shape-shifting frolics

@madrihoes - camilo nickname

@cloud-9ine - with or without you

@magicalencanto - camilo's s/o having power like pepa

@multificsworld - ___

- Tu Alma Tan Hermosa, Como La Luna

@caramellahoney - future daughter-in-law

- wait no wait-

@luvrcami - camilo headcannon

@bumblesimagines - being friends with camilo

@mihlo - camilo with fem s/o who wears glasses

@dos-oroguitas - angelita

- ay mamacita

— A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS —

klaus Baudelaire

@strangerdangerwrites - incompatible

@a-second-hand-sorrow - goodnight

- Not a problem

@ssadumba55 - not that easy

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violet Baudelaire

@trustsalvatorewriting - dating violet Baudelaire would include

————HARRY POTTER————

@archivesofthevoid - Pulling their hair while making out

- The boys (+ Percy) stealing a kiss on the way to class hc

@lithiumfae - sexy habits they have (marauders)

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weasley twins

@therandomficwriter - The Weasley Twins Having A Crush On You

@lilahisntsadanymore - Slytherin sunshine (fred)

@moonlit-imagines - ___

@therandomficwriter - weasley twins with a non ticklish s/o

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neville longbottom

@hogwartseighthyear - crush

@very-unsirius - blurb

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luna lovegoods

@iamthemain-character - Falling in Love with Luna Lovegood

@fromforeigntofamiliarity - taming cowardly lions

@sublimecatgalaxy - ___

——————NARNIA——————

Edmund pevensie

@pink-princess-pussy-pop - dating edmund would include

@wrenwreads - she's enough

- wardrobe malfunctions

@witchthewriter - being king edmund's wife would include

@pariahsparadise - warm pt.2

———TRIPLE FRONTIER ———

@violentdelightsandviolentends - tethered ♡

·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·

santiago garcia

@stormkobra-5 - ___♡

#masterlist #mix fandom rec #richard alonzo muñoz x reader #alma peregrine x reader #enoch o'connor x reader #camilo madrigal x reader #klaus baudelaire x reader #violet baudelaire x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #neville longbotton x reader #luna lovegoods x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #santiago garcia x reader

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alewritesfics · 2 years

Text

Excuses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem! reader

Summary: Maybe all of his visits aren't exactly to see your brother

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: unedited, fluff, mentions of unrequited love (or is it) and I think that's all

Masterlist

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

You once read that in a book, and could not help but relate to it.

The worst feeling you could ever feel is that, the one of unrequited love. The feeling of loving somebody and knowing that somebody does not feel the same for you.

It is ridiculous, that feeling that you get when you see him, when he takes a moment out of his day to even talk to you and ask you how you have been, leaving you happy that he even talked to you when you know he only did it out of courtesy. But you still lived for those moments.

Birds chirped, the sun hitting your face and the wind breezed your skin while you read one of your favorite romance books, the pages held carefully between your fingers.

You were immersed in the pages, paying zero attention to anything but the love story in front of you.

Pride and Prejudice.

Ever since you were little, you wished to live a love story of your own. You wished for the kind of love Mr. Darcy had for Elizabeth. One where a man loved you so deeply he would do anything for you. One where you were the only woman he could ever think about. It was all you could dream of.

But that was all it was, a dream.

Men in the society were nothing like the ones you read in books. They were arrogant, selfish, pompous bastards who cared nothing but to have a beautiful lady on their arm that made them look good.

You wanted someone kind, who didn’t care whether you were beautiful or not, that loved his family fiercely and protected his loved ones with everything he has, so they would not be hurt.

Someone who was affectionate and paid attention to the things you loved. Who took time out of his day to talk to you and ask you how was your day, and that he was interested in what you had to say.

And the only one you could think of that fit those requirements was your brother’s best friend. But even then, you doubted he had an interest in you.

You were Simon Basset’s younger sister, the Duke of Hastings. Or well, you were his half sister as his father remarried again once Simon was 9 years old in hopes of having a son who was not an ‘idiot’ as Simon’s father used to say but what a shock when instead of the son he desired so turned out to be the exact opposite and that was when he lost hope.

Simon, oh sweet Simon. He was the best brother you could ever ask for, of course he was very overprotective of you and would chase suitors who he thought did not deserve you away, which meant every single one, but you did not know what you would do without him

Even with you being his half sister, he cared very deeply for you and did not hate you for what his father did to him.

“You are still reading that?”

You snapped your head up coming face to face with the viscount. You held back a smile and slightly bowed your head feeling yourself starting to become giddy at his presence.

“Viscount Bridgerton” You greeted before looking back at your book, trying to appear uninterested “Not at all, I have finished it weeks ago but there is no harm in reading it again, is there?”

“Not at all” He shook his head “ but surely you do not enjoy reading the same thing over and over again, do you? I, for one, do not enjoy reading about silly things about love in silly books” you look at him in disbelief

“They are not silly, I think everything I read in these books are incredibly beautiful, and yes, I do enjoy reading these things” you responded “Why did you even decide to come outside to judge the books I read? My brother is inside in his study, go and bother him instead”

He let out a laugh “ Now why would I do that when you are here just waiting for me to bless you with my presence” you glare at him making him laugh once again “okay, I already fulfilled my purpose, now I will leave, I will see you later, princess” he winked at you before starting to walk back to your home

You make sure he is inside the house before you smile widely, shaking your head remembering the encounter.

You could not even count on both of your hands the number of times Anthony has been on your home the past few weeks. It would seem as if he was also living here from the how much he frequents here. Even if Simon was not present, he would still appear to keep you company for a few hours, chaperoned of course. If you did not know better, you would have assumed he appeared constantly at the Hastings House just to see you but of course, you did know better.

But you cannot even complain, you certainly did not mind seeing him around your home. You did not mind one bit.

It had not even been 2 days before the viscount appeared once more in your home. You were not surprised to say the least.

“Back once more?” You said when you saw him walk through the door, walking down the stairs. He turned towards you and smiled “It seems as if this is your home from how frequent you are seen here now a days”

He laughs “Oh come on, it is not as if you do not enjoy my presence around you” he teases

“Quite the opposite, my lord, I consider you a nuisance” You responded amused, holding back your smile “Like a fly constantly buzzing around my ear, very much annoying” you stopped in front of him

“Well ouch” he exclaimed hurt but you knew better, you could see the laughter dancing around in his eyes, you swatted him on the arm playfully.

“My brother is not here, I assumed he would have told you he had some business to attend to in Clyvedown and would not be back until 3 days from now” You informed him after

“Oh really? I was not informed of that” He feigned confusion “Well, now that I am here, I am sure you would not mind me making you company for a few hours, you know, so it does not go to waste the trip I made here” he added once he saw the face you made

You thought for a few moments before you responded “Well alright, I suppose there is no harm in that”

“Wonderful, shall we go to promenade?” Anthony offered

“Now?” You questioned “But I am not even dressed to go promenade and even if there are people in the park, as soon as they see us together they will think we are courting”

“You look beautiful regardless, it does not matter hoe you are dressed” He compliments “Come on, let’s just go, no one will even be in the park”

You just laugh before gesturing at him to go on, shaking your head at his silliness.

“No one will be here, you said” You tease as you walked along the trail

“Well….” He trailed off “I lied. I knew there would be people here, it is a sunday, after all, everyone comes to the park on sundays” he looked away from you

You furrowed your eyebrows confused. Why on earth would he want people to see the two of you together? Does he not know the rumors the ton will create about the two of you? And they would mostly affect him as he is the one that does not want the ton to think he has plans of marrying any time soon. But maybe you should not worry much, you are his best friend’s sister after all, you hope they will only think he is keeping you company as your brother is out of town. On the other hand, if the ton thinks you are courting, your suitors might cease.

“Why would you lie?” you asked “I mean, I have no problem of being seen together, but people might get the wrong idea and any suitors I have might back off. And I plan on marrying this season, at the latest next season if I do not find anyone I even remotely like” you pursued your lips at the thought of not marrying because of a misunderstanding.

Of course, it is not like anything will happen if you do not marry or get engaged soon. But what you meant is that if gentlemen think Anthony is courting you, they will not approach you, or well they will since men always go after a lady when they think someone of importance is courting them, but you do not want a man to pursue you because someone of high social standing is interested in you and they want to see what is it that strung him in, but because they like you for who you are.

You do want your fairytale love story after all, or at least marry for love.

“Maybe I want them to get the wrong idea” Anthony mused, you snapped your head towards him quickly

“Do you want me to become a spinster?” you looked at him incredulously “because I will if no 0one wants to court me in the next 2 seasons”

He laughs at your comment “No, not at all” he shook his head “ what I meant is that, maybe, I want your suitors to back off so… so that I can pursue you better, without anyone trying to come between us” you stare at him shocked, stopping in your tracks

He stops along with you, laughing at your expression. “Are you going to say anything?”

“ I just – what – I do not know – what about Simon?” you stutter, your mind still trying to comprehend what you just heard

“What about him?” Anthony shrugs nonchalantly

“Will be not be mad if you start courting me? I am his little sister, and he is very protective over me” you noted worriedly

“He is the last person who can be mad at me courting his little sister when he himself is courting mine” he answers and you nod, looking around as you noted some stares that were upon you both “So?”

“So, what?” you looked at him curiously

“You never answered to what I said” your face twisted in confusion at his words “ Will you let me court you?” He looked back at you nervously. Ah right. That.

You hummed in realization “Alright” you nodded “Just know I am very hard to please” you teased

“Good thing I have much experience in how to please a woman” He joked and you shot him a glare making his playful expression disappear when you turned your head away from him “ Right. Sorry. If I am going to court you, no speaking about how much I pleased other women” you shot him another glare making him wince

You huff, taking your hand out of his arm and walking away “Hey! Y/n, I am sorry, I am not going to speak anymore” he called out from behind you “Wait for me, will you? I am sorry, just do not be mad or annoyed at me” You let a smile come onto your face at his pleading.

This will be fun.

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sea-owl · 3 months

Text

@amybonehouse you might appreciate this

Set in the what if gothic featheringtons au / portia addams au

First post found here

Portia comes over to see Violet in a yellow dress and Edmund in a yellow cravat and vest.

Portia: Oh no! My dear friends who are you in mourning for? I can summon their spirit!

Edmund and Violet: Our monogamy

I still maintain the fact that any au I write regarding the Edmund x Violet x Portia ship the first to fall is Violet. Violet has always come off to me as someone who falls in love fast. Sometimes, she doesn't even know it. That doesn't mean her love isn't true or fickel, she had a more loving upbringing than most, so she doesn't really have that many hang-ups about it.

So Violet falls first, and it shocks her to her core when she has the realization. Not that she fell for another woman, no she's had thoughts about men and women all the time, before Anthony came along her and Edmund used to admire pretty girls together. No what shocks her is that it's her friend, and they're both married. Violet is still happily in love with her husband and Portia . . .well she's not in love per say. But she finds joy in finding new ways to scare her husband. Violet also puzzles because while she is having new feelings for Portia, the ones for Edmund haven't dimmed in the slightest.

Violet consults with Lady Danbury, while not fully telling her, she kind of hints at it.

Lady Danbury rolled her eyes. "That is not unusual girl. Look at all the remarried widows and widowers who still love their first spouse yet also loves the second. Just because it's happening at the same time for you does not mean it's impossible."

Violet blushed, she didn't say it was her having the feelings. Oh well, guess she can't get anything past Lady Danbury.

Violet concluded the next step was to talk to Edmund. But before she could she caught herself and her husband staring a second too long at Portia's chest in her tight black dress. Edmund was shocked at himself when he realized, Violet was relieved her husband also was looking. They can stare respectfully together.

They never did anything while Lord Featherington was still alive because they would never dare to put Portia in a scandalous situation like that. For one she is there friend, and two despite how eccentric the Spanish woman is they're not quiet sure she go for something like that.

Then came the death of Lord Featherington, and Portia said fuck this place I'm going home. Portia packed up herself and her daughters and made sure the Featherington estate could self run with minor need for her oversight before returning to Spain. But she did leave her two friends a set of arras, 13 coins each, made out of silver.

"Keep this as a promise," she told them.

After that the feelings cooled and they honest to god thought they were back to feelings of friendship. It's not like they're completely cut off from their friend she still sends letters.

They were wrong.

Featherington House sat empty for years but then one day servants were spotted opening it up. Whispers began to travel about the creepy family who used to live there who haunted the ton.

Edmund and Violet were having tea and watching some of the servants move about across the street. All of them carried black curtains and dark wooded furniture.

"It's strange, the ton whispers as if a ghost has moved in," Violet commented. Edmund hummed in agreement as he sipped his tea.

"Well wouldn't that be fun if a ghost did move in!"

Edmund choked on his tea, Violet's heart sped up.

Portia smiled at them from the doorway. "Sadly we are not so lucky."

A woman popped up behind from Portia. She was dressed in a dark purple jewel toned dress. "Just us with 12 children."

Edmund and Violet glanced at one another. Uh who was this?

#yeah portia did know they loved her #she loved them too but had more going on she had to deal with #so she made a promise with the coins #from what i can gather the arras have been exvhanged between brides and grooms in spain for a while now #bridgerton #what if gothic featheringtons au #edmund x violet x portia #edmund/violet/portia #gothic featheringtons #portia addams au

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bridgertonbabe · 8 months

Note

On your Strictly AU… Kai and Angela are giving me Violet and Michael vibes.

Imagine a year or two after Anthony does is when Sophie and Kate are on maternity leave Violet is approached to take part and gets partnered with none other than Michael Stirling!

Anthony and Benedict completely scandalised at the high kicks and seeing their mother being tossed around whilst Kate and Sophie are giving her helpful tips and Frannie is just 😍 wanting to get to know her mothers dance partner!

Omfg yes!!!!

While Anthony is competing Violet loves being in the audience to support her son though she comes to realise that a part of her also envies him, wishing she could have the chance to be taught such technical dances by championship dancers. Whenever she came to visit him during rehearsals or when he came over for dinner she would eagerly pester him to teach her some steps just to get a taster of what it must be like to do a ballroom dance. Naturally she was thrilled to see her son win the Glitterball trophy and she was even more excited when she found out that not only was Anthony dating Kate, but that Benedict was seeing his brother's dance partner Sophie; and of course whenever her sons' girlfriends were round she'd eagerly pick their brains about everything dance related and they were always more than happy to teach her a few dance combinations.

Several years later Violet's agent called her up to give her the news she had always hoped to receive; the BBC had offered her the chance to be a contestant on the show. She said "yes" in a heartbeat and she was fizzing with excitement to share the news with her kids. She was quite dismayed when the reaction she received wasn't as supportive as she imagined, with Colin and Eloise quipping a few jokes at her expense and her eldest sons doubting whether she was up to par to be on the show. Thankfully her daughters-in-law were her saving grace as they hyped her up and vowed to be there for her day and night should she ever want to get some advice or help with her dancing.

Cut to the launch show where the pairings for which contestant will be paired up with which professional are revealed and much to Violet's delight - and her children's shock and horror - she gets paired with the newest pro; Michael Stirling. She is the envy of all the other contestants and viewing audience alike as the ridiculously sexy Scotsman proves to be an instant charmer and wins over just about every person he meets - well, almost everyone.

Of course Anthony and Benedict are the most scandalised especially after seeing Michael Stirling stretch their mother's leg this high;

"What a traumatising way to find out mum's that flexible."

But what would additionally be a funny aspect to Violet's participation is if Edmund is still alive and well - and positively terrified that the Strictly curse might strike his blissfully happy marriage. He had never wavered in his love for Violet and he had always been secure in himself to never doubt the strength of their marriage; but Michael Stirling's sudden presence in his life unnerved him. Considering he had watched his wife act opposite many other good-looking actors brimming with charisma, there was just something about the young Scotsman that got under his skin. He had youth on his side, was ridiculously handsome, had an irresistible grin that made every hot-blooded woman swoon, and there was a permanent flirtatious tone whenever he opened his mouth; how could anyone possibly turn down his advances?

Of course he'd try his best to ignore his own insecurities as best he could and put Violet first, being her biggest fan and sitting in the audience every week to support her. However it didn't help that the tabloids had done a deep-dive into his wife's dance partner's prolific Casanova past with various ex-lovers selling their stories about how Michael had seduced them. He had reportedly slept with married women, several women his senior, and had allegedly even once had dalliances with Kate and Sophie; which wasn't true in the slightest as Edmund's daughters-in-law laughed the claims off and stated that Michael was just a flirty friend - not that it stopped Anthony and Benedict from suffering from near-breakdowns at the thought of Michael having gone anywhere near their wives. There were even fans online who seemed to be legitimately shipping his wife with her professional dancer, and it was difficult for Edmund to ignore what seemed to be the world trying to signal that his marriage was doomed.

Then one day Violet invited Michael over for dinner to celebrate getting through to Blackpool week and Edmund truly felt as if he was being tested as he plastered a genial smile on his face throughout the meal. Anthony and Benedict were equally peeved to be in Michael's presence as the dancer occupied their mother and wives attention, something which Colin found quite amusing until Michael kept stealing Penelope's attention away from him and constantly kept making her giggle much to his chagrin. Unbeknownst to the men, the reason why Violet had invited Michael over was actually to set him up with Francesca, who had expressed interest to her mother after visiting them during rehearsals. Violet had noticed Michael took an instant shine to her daughter and ever since he had always asked after her in particular more than any of her other children, and she was hopeful that they would make a perfect match.

As Violet progressed further in the competition, Edmund became fearful that the more hours she was putting in had nothing to do with training but that she had succumbed to Michael Stirling's charm and had begun an affair with him. He tried not to let it get to him but one day while Francesca was round his irrational thinking got the best of him and he blurted out his suspicions that he thought Violet was sleeping with Michael. He was outraged when Francesca cracked up laughing and he began having a go at her for not taking him seriously and went on and on about how he was sure his wife was cheating on him.

"Oh for god's sake, dad! Mum's not sleeping with Michael!"

"And how can you be so sure?!"

"Because I'm sleeping with Michael!"

At which point Edmund fell silent, dumbfounded as to how to respond since the possibility that Michael was sleeping with his daughter and not his wife had never crossed his mind. After a very long five minutes of shocked silence Edmund cleared his throat and asked whether or not it was serious between them, to which Francesca informed him that she had spent every night of the last few weeks with Michael. Edmund nodded in acknowledgement as he now tried to wrap around his head around the possibility that Michael Stirling, rather than being a threat to his marriage, could very well end up being his future son-in-law instead.

Eventually much to her overwhelming joy Violet ends up winning the show with Michael and despite his misguided paranoia, Edmund couldn't be prouder of his wife. He also warms up to Michael when he sees just how besotted he is with Francesca, and especially after Michael offers to teach him the foxtrot to surprise Violet with for their upcoming wedding anniversary.

#asks #strictly come dancing au #violet bridgerton #michael stirling #edmund bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #vedmund #franchel #violet x edmund #michael x francesca

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