Wool From the Black Sheep pt. 5 (Benedict Bridgerton x reader)

Series Masterlist

A/N: ...this is literally just all Anthony??? I didn't plan it that way, it just happened and I'm not too mad about it. Am I mad at him??? Absolutely.

Just one more part after this and then the epilogue! Thank you for sticking with me through this labor of love! 💕

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: mean Anthony, sad kids...just sad; angst; angry Benedict

Word Count: 3.0k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI

Oh Anthony. Smh. I feel like Benedict’s right though. Anthony is all the way worried he’ll become null-in-void. That they’ll no longer need him, and somehow he connects that to them no longer loving him. But BRO! Taking away something that makes them happy, even if you’re worried that’s taking them away from YOU, is not the solution. Besides. At the end of the day, they’re going to love him. He’s their brother and father all mixed into one. Smh. He can be such a wanker. A beautiful wanker, but a wanker.

HENRY! I adore him! And I’m so glad, that without meaning to, he kind of just slapped Anthony’s mistake right into his face. What’re you going to do now, LORD Bridgerton? You have some fixing to do. And many-many apologies.

Wool From the Black Sheep pt. 4 (Benedict Bridgerton x reader)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late...I've been dealing with a lot of shit 😅 but we're back and...the angst train has left the station!

Can I get all my choir kids to raise their hands?? I'm not totally sure of the history of choir in the Regency Era, I did some research but it's kinda inconclusive and if any of you like...frequent/have been to (?) St. Paul's Cathedral and this is incorrect, I'm sorry 😭 And I'm not at all specifying a religion for the reader or saying she's religious at all this is purely for the music

also idfk the layout of Bridgerton House... 🤷🏽‍♀️

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: mean Anthony; angst!; sad Benedict; kissing; cursing (normal for me lol); I guess illusions to religion??

Word Count: 3.1k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI!

I know I am so-so-so late on reading the rest of this fic, but I’m also kind of glad I didn’t have the time to commit to it that I wanted. I didn’t even realize how much I needed Benedict back in my life until I read this chapter. I missed him.

How cute was Benedict going on a mission to find Y/N the morning after?! It was so obvious that she was more to him than a quick fling. He wanted to check-in. To see her. And the fact that he was worried she fled because of him? My heart could not stand it.

Y/N! NOOOO! Why’re you telling Benedict you can’t be together?! I mean. Ohk. I get where she’s coming from. They do come from 2 totally different worlds now. The ton will look at their relationship with disdain. And yeah, it’ll probably bring a tad bit of shame, but… LOVE. Doesn’t love count?

And ouch. She did not have to be so mean with the denial. Calm down, sister. A simple, thanks, but no thanks, would’ve sufficed.

Anthony. Anthony. I love you, but way to be a freaking douche. If I could, I’d punch you right now.. RIGHT. IN. THE. NOSE.

Coming Home (Part 6)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Warnings: Lil bit of spice in this part, lads 🌶️🌶️

If I’ve accidentally missed you off the tag list, please let me know so I can add you! ❤️

⧪

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d danced so much. The last time you’d laughed like this, beautiful and unguarded. 

Lucien was…a riot. Exactly your kind of person, with his wicked humour forming witty remarks in your ear as he’d spun you round the dance floor, guiding you from one dance to the next. You knew you’d gained some attention for the simple fact that you hadn’t changed dance partners since you and Lucien had joined hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You’d forgotten what they were like — these parties. Lavish events that went on from dusk until dawn and sometimes beyond, the food and drinks constantly replenishing, the dancing feet of people never seeming to tire. You appreciated the lengths that Rhysand had gone to in celebrating your return; all the streamers and banners and decorations, the pure extravagance of the event that was held purely in your honour.

But at some point, some time in the early hours of the morning when the music continued unfaltered, the marvelling stares and whispers had begun to get a bit too much. Lucien had noticed the dip in your mood, your enthusiasm, straight away.

And that was what had led to the two of you sneaking out of the party together, bottles of faerie wine clutched in your hands as you left the packed throne room behind and wandered together around the Hewn City, the sheer size of it offering you at least a little bit more privacy. No one seemed to have noticed your exits.

Talking with Lucien as you strolled around was easy. You’d laughed, dipping into hidden alleys together whenever people’s gazes strayed to you, pressing yourselves against the walls and trying not to let your fit of laughter echo out as you hid. You felt like two naughty children sneaking off into forbidden places, and it was great. Light and airy and free.

“You know,” You hummed as you strolled beside the redhead, taking a long draw from the bottle in your hand. “I don’t think your mate likes me very much.”

Lucien snorted, prising the bottle from your palm and taking his own sip. “I don’t think she likes me very much, either.”

The two of you were most definitely, gloriously drunk, and perhaps that was why it was so easy to talk about things that usually clenched your heart so tightly. Through your short time alone, you’d both discussed the complex history of your families — him detailing the fraught relationship he had with his brothers, his father, and you dipping into some of the very deep, very hidden truths about your own father. About how you’d always suspected he hated you. How he’d seemed to see your lack of wings — lack of the Illyrian traits that Rhys had inherited from your mother — as a massive disappointment. It wasn’t something you liked to delve into if you could help it; Lucien seemed to make it as easy as breathing.

You hadn’t talked about Azriel, though. Yet.

“There’s truly no hope for you and Elain?” You asked softly; you couldn’t see what it was about Lucien that the middle Archeron sister could possibly have an issue with.

Stopping, Lucien leaned against the wall of a granite-hewn building and took another gulp of wine. “She can barely stand to be in the same room as me.” He swallowed. “And yet, the Shadowsinger merely breathes in her direction and it’s like he hung the moon for her. She comes alive.”

Such sad, biting bitterness in his voice. It was clear, even beneath all the wit and laughter and charm, the love he felt for his mate was a persistent wound that would never heal. You could understand that kind of pain, even if you didn’t have a mate yourself — understand the aching, gnawing feeling that rotted you from the inside while you watched the person you loved fall for somebody else.

You sucked in a deep breath, taking the bottle from him, and let your head fall back against the wall. “I get it. I’ve spent my life watching him pine for females. Firstly Mor — now Elain.” You swallowed a great gulp of the tangy wine you’d stopped tasting hours ago. “But me? Never me.”

Lucien’s gaze was a heavy weight as he turned to you, his intoxication becoming evident in the way his body slumped forward slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. “The Shadowsinger?”

“Mhm.”

“You love him?”

“Wildly.” You grimaced as the last dregs of the bottle disappeared. “Unfortunately.”

“Well.” The redhead blinked. “Fuck.”

You snorted — it was all you could do. Because if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, and scream, and shout and—

Lucien’s laughter joined yours, an easy, drunken chortle that rumbled deep in his chest and spread infectiously. Within seconds, the reason behind your hysterics was lost. The two of you were laughing because you could, and as Lucien steadied himself against the wall, a lazy grin pulled at his lips. He leaned closer to you — close enough that your faces were inches from each other.

“We’re the rejects, aren’t we?” The breath that fanned your face as he spoke smelled of the wine’s berries, and an impulsive part of you wanted to lean forward and taste it, lick it. Lick him.

“Uhuh. Rejects.” You murmured back, leaning in. You could just feel the whisper of his lips brushing yours, begging you to close that tiny little gap. His eyes roved yours inquisitively, like he was sizing up if you had the nerve.

You did. Or, at least, you would have — would have kissed him with wild, reckless, drunken abandon — had the approaching footsteps not stopped you in your tracks. 

It was a cool clipping of boots against the cobblestoned street, and the whisper of wings, that announced your interruption. The tall, dark figure rounded the corner, and Azriel stilled before you and Lucien.

“Hello.” You chirped casually.

Azriel’s eyes slid to Lucien, flicking over his stance, the close proximity between the two of you. You could have sworn a muscle in his jaw ticked. 

“The party is over.” His voice was short, clipped. “Rhys sent me to find you.”

“Well.” You pushed off the wall. “Here I am.”

Azriel glanced at Lucien again. “I’d get going, if I were you. Keir has been well behaved tonight, but I doubt that courtesy will last much longer.”

For a beat, Lucien said nothing, merely staring back at the Shadowsinger like he was weighing up a snarky response. After a tense moment, he, too, pushed off the wall, and he turned to you, that gorgeous half-smirk back on his lips. 

“Lady.” He addressed you with a swift, flourishing bow at the waist. “I thank you for your company this evening. Welcome back to the court.”

His exit was nothing more than a chilled autumn breeze as he disappeared before your very eyes, leaving just you and Azriel in the dark, quiet street. You weren’t even sure how far you’d wandered from the party.

“Come.” Azriel murmured, turning on his feet. 

You followed.

⧪

None of you returned to your homes immediately. 

With the sun beginning to rise as you landed in Velaris, it was Mor who made an executive decision to take you all for an early breakfast in one of the cafes along the Sidra. 

The mood surrounding your group as you occupied a table at the back was one of calm contentment. Undoubtedly, you were all still feeling the effects of the alcohol — probably you more than anyone — but as you chatted over steaming cups of tea and warm pastries, that ever-present weight on your shoulders felt somewhat lighter than usual.

Azriel was the only one who didn’t engage. 

If his presence wasn’t already so noticeable, you may have forgotten he was there, from the way he sat quietly and stared forward, barely touching his tea. You didn’t dare to stare at him for too long, lest you catch that cold, brooding gaze.

With Velaris waking around you, the members of your group began to break off. Amren was the first to go, announcing she planned to sleep for at least an entire day. Cassian practically swept Nesta off her feet and shot into the skies with barely a goodbye. Feyre and Rhys stood soon after that, and not particularly wanting to be one of the last left behind, you accepted your brother’s offer to see you home before he and the High Lady turned in themselves. 

Back at your house, the silence enveloped you. You’d not long moved in, and the smell of fresh paint, of brand new furniture, had a very clinical feel about them that didn’t exactly warm you as you stood in your bedroom, peeling out of your dress. Your only saving grace was the exhaustion beginning to drag you down, hopefully enough to pull you into sleep before your loneliness crept in. Your bed was huge, the unoccupied side of it noticeably empty and cold. 

After barely managing to remove your makeup and change into your nightgown, you fell between the sheets and allowed your eyes to flutter shut, memories of the evening, of your dancing and smiling and genuine laughter, comforting you enough for your breathing to slow, your eyes growing heavy. 

You were just drifting off when you heard it — the dull thud outside of the glass doors that led from your bedroom, out onto the balcony. 

You sat up, suddenly aware of the room darkening — of a huge figure blocking the daylight that had been streaming through in hues of pinks and buttery yellows. 

Azriel stood on your balcony, his eyes meeting yours through the glass. You threw the quilt off your body, not even caring about your flimsy little nightgown as you stalked over to the doors and yanked them open. 

“Do you have a particular aversion to knocking on the front door?” You snapped. “You know — like a normal person?”

Azriel stared back at you, his expression unreadable. His gaze dipped down, taking in the column of your throat. The cut of your figure through the silky material. 

“We need to talk.” He said.

“You could have talked to me at breakfast.”

His eyes, suddenly deeper — heated and hungry — flicked from the peak of your breasts through your nightgown, back up to your face. “No, I couldn’t.”

A small, petty part of you, still hurt from his rejection, from the harsh words he’d spoken to you, wanted to turn him away. To slam the glass doors in his face and climb back into bed like your heart wasn’t thudding wildly.

But you didn’t have that sort of resolve. Not where Azriel was concerned. 

With a soft, relenting sigh, you stepped aside, pulling both the doors wide open to accommodate the span of his wings as he entered with a graceful lope. 

You watched — as he strode in, still in his clothes from the party. He stopped in the middle of your bedroom, his eyes roving over the decor, the various trinkets you owned, the painting Feyre had gifted you as a moving-in present. Slowly, with such lethal precision, he turned on his feet to face you.

“Well?” You pushed, shutting the doors behind you. The cool air certainly didn’t help with the hardened peaks of your breasts. You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Lucien Vanserra is Elain’s mate.” He said. 

You cocked an eyebrow. “I’m aware of that. Thank you.”

He took a step towards you. “So what were you doing with him tonight? Why did you leave the party with him?”

Studying his face, the realisation dawned on you — the direction in which his mind — and most of their minds — had probably taken when you’d wandered off with the redhead in tow. A small slither of satisfaction filled you as you read the ire in Azriel’s eyes.

You barked a laugh. “You think I fucked him?” 

Azriel shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time, from what I’ve heard.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” You acknowledged with a casual shrug. “But if you had visions of me leaving the party and riding him into oblivion in the fucking centre of the Hewn City, you’re very much mistaken, Azriel.”

“Even still.” That same, telling muscle in his jaw moved. “You were being reckless. Drinking and giggling and flirting with him. Everybody knows he’s a mated male. The kind of shame, of humiliation, those actions would put on Elain—“

“So that’s why you’re here?” You cut him off. “To defend Elain’s honour?” The thought of it left you cold and reeling. 

“I’m here,” He took another slow step towards you, “to advise you to stay away from Lucien.”

Folding your arms tighter, you clenched your jaw. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“He’s Elain’s mate. Elain’s.”

It was then that the fraught tether on your anger snapped. Perhaps it had been building up since your confrontation at the clinic — or perhaps since long before then. Whatever it was, that well deep inside you that you usually kept sealed, full of longing and loneliness, anger and sadness, of pure fucking love that would never be reciprocated — it spilled over. 

“How many times a day do you repeat those very words to yourself, Az?” You laughed coldly. “Is that how you keep hold of your control? What you repeat to yourself over and over to stop you from sinking your cock into Elain?”

Azriel moved so fast, you barely had a chance to register the flash of darkness. You were lifted off your feet, and suddenly you were pressed against the wall, Az’s body warm and solid against yours as he glared down at you, a guttural growl ripping from the depths of his throat. 

“Watch yourself, Y/N.” He bit.

You almost laughed. Because all of this — every bit of it — you found it thrilling. Seeing Azriel lose his signature cool calm, feeling the way his body pressed against yours and anger sparked off of him in little zips of lightning that snaked their way through your veins and lit you up from the inside.

He was close — so close. His heavy breathing fanned your face, and you could almost hear how hard he clenched his teeth.

“Why should I?” You said — tested him. Such a reckless, stupid game to play, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself.

Azriel’s head dipped. For a split second, you thought…you thought maybe he would kiss you. But then his nose brushed the column of your neck, the fine strands of his hair tickling your cheek. 

“If it were Elain I wanted to sink my cock into,” He said, his voice a deep, vicious purr, “I could have done so long ago.”

Hell — you didn’t doubt his words. You’d seen the way Elain simpered around him, her cheeks a brilliant pink, her eyes vibrant. She liked to play the coy, sweet thing, but you imagined how thoroughly she’d give herself to Azriel if he offered.

So why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he taken the chance? Simply to keep relations with Lucien civil?

All thoughts, all potential quick-witted responses, had eddied from your mind. He’d beaten you at your own game, rendered you useless with his proximity, his scent. With his nose that continued to brush your neck, the feel of his skin against yours.

You wanted more of it. All of it. To rid yourself of all your clothes and barriers, to feel every intricate inch of him against you.

Azriel caught on to the change in your scent immediately. He stiffened against you as your legs trembled. You wondered if he’d pull away and fly out of the doors without another word — but then his forehead fell against your shoulder, pressed into it, and he emitted a soft, frustrated groan. 

“…Az?” You whispered.

“Don’t move.”

You wanted to listen — really, you did. But you’d never been much good at listening or taking direction. Shaking so hard you thought you may slide out from his grip and down the wall, you shifted your body. 

The tiny change in position told you precisely why he’d said what he had when the long, hard length of him pushed through his trousers, up against your stomach. You sucked in a sharp breath, the exhalation causing you to move against him. 

Azriel struck. 

He ripped his head up, and in one fluid dip, his mouth was on yours, pressing a forbidden, bruising kiss to your lips. 

You didn’t hesitate for a second. You kissed him back — hard, passionate — the kiss you’d hoped for on the balcony on Starfall. The one you’d imagined so long before that, and so many times since.

Azriel’s hands slid to your waist, the warmth of his palms pressing through your flimsy nightgown. He was so big, towering so much over you, that he had to lift you up just to keep your mouths joined. Another gasp had your mouth opening, and he grasped the opportunity while it was there, sliding his tongue in to dance around yours.

Gods — the taste of him, the feel of him — you wished you could bottle every element of that kiss and keep it for yourself. You tangled your hands within the silken strands of his hair, tugging just hard enough for him to grunt into your mouth. 

You breathed heavily against his lips, “I want you.” 

“Mm. No.” He grunted — growled — again. “We can’t.”

The refusal would have stung — if he didn’t follow those two, horrid words with another searing kiss. You let go of your grip on his hair, instead fisting the material of his tunic in your hands as you yanked him closer — harder — against you. You lightly nipped at his bottom lip. 

The gasp he emitted turned into another one of those low, frustrated whines that you swallowed greedily. “Why can’t I stop?”

“I don’t want you to.” You breathed, kissing him again.

He kissed you back — not the heady exchange of passion that it’d been seconds before, but a quick, chaste kiss that he didn’t allow to linger. A peck — but slightly firmer, deeper. He did it a second time, a third, and just as you were about to open up for him again, he pulled away.

You could see the rise and fall of his chest through his black shirt as he stared at you, his bruised and swollen lips slightly parted, his dark hair tousled. 

His eyes swept over you. You could only imagine what he saw — how flushed you probably were all over, how visibly your legs trembled. The peak of your nipples through your nightgown — a reaction provoked solely by him. 

As he stared — and stared and stared and stared — realisation began to dawn in his eyes. He blinked, as though stepping out of a trance. Touched his scarred fingers to his lips and gently pinched them, as though he couldn’t quite believe what they’d just been doing.

You knew that look — the one of regret that was rapidly emerging from the one of desire. He blinked again. Took a step back. 

“Az…” You murmured, daring a single step towards him.

He shook his head. Shook himself out of his thoughts. His face looked truly shell-shocked. “I need to leave.”

The punch to your heart was palpable. “Please don’t skip out on me now.”

“I have to leave.” He said again. In stiff, stunned movements so unlike his usual grace, he stalked back over to the balcony doors. 

What could you do besides watch him? Even with your heart shattering inside you, that painful sting of something being dangled in front of you, just for it to be ripped away, you couldn’t stop him from running off into the morning light. You couldn’t begin to think of how much worse you’d make things if you tried.

Az ripped the doors open once more, and he turned his body just slightly. Just to look at you once more. A frown had darkened his features. 

Without a word, he stepped out, and took a huge leap off the balcony, his wings carrying him off into the distance.

Tags: @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen @high-bi-andreadytocry @esposadomd @positivewitch @bsenpai @cityofidek @shannonsaid @topaz125 @azzydaddy @nobody00sthings @sfhsgrad-blog @elizarikaallen @hanasakr @ruleroftides @mis-lil-red

First and foremost.. this fic is LEGIT perfection!

Now. Onto all my thoughts and feels.

Why are Lucian and Y/N s’cute?! And the ease of their relationship? The fact they laugh so easily with each other, admit hidden secrets (I know faerie wine was involved, but I also know you don’t admit dark secrets to someone you don’t trust.. even when under the influence), and have undeniably sexual chemistry?! I AM HERE FOR IT.

And as much as my heart belongs to Azriel, I am LIVID he interrupted their moment. They deserved that moment. They deserved each other. There was no bullshit hanging over Lucien and Y/N. They should’ve been allowed to lose themselves in the enjoyment and comfort they clearly find in one another. BUT NOOOO! Azriel’s beautiful self has to swoop in and f-it all up.

Az and his concern over Lucien being Elain’s mate is so extra. He clearly doesn’t care that Elain is Lucien’s mate. Considering he was making googly-eyes at Elain a few chapters ago. And even if he hasn’t “sunk his cock into Elain,” some part of him clearly wants to. The whole IC has noted how they look and interact when around each other. Idk if he thinks he’s being noble, because she has a mate, but he’s a lying liar that lies if he really wants us and Y/N to believe sleeping with her hasn’t crossed his mind.

I kind of want to punch Azriel in the face. The way he’s toying with Y/N’s emotions. It’s unfair. I mean, it’s also clear he doesn’t understand his own feelings (*coughmatevibescough*), but the way he’s treating her is uncalled for. He claims they can’t do this because she’s “Rhys’ sister,” but I’m pretty sure Rhys would be more livid with the way Azriel is messing with his sisters heart. Kissing and fucking are one thing. This emotional roller-coaster is something different (and worse).

I can’t wait to see what happens next! I truly hope Y/N tells Azriel to suck it and goes about her life pretending to be indifferent to him (at least for a little while, because, even with all this bullshit drama, I ship them).

Although. I do kind of want more Lucien and Y/N. #secretlyshipthemtoo

Can’t wait for the next chapter! #SOINVESTED #SOHOOKED

Cordonian Ghost Hunters

Episode 1 - The Decuir Hotel: New Orleans, LA

Book - TRR AU

Pairings - none so far

Synopsis - Three lifelong friends have a terrifying encounter with the paranormal that changes the course of their lives. Determined to find answers, they travel the world, investigating unexplained phenomena and documenting their findings. Drake, the unapologetic skeptic, Max the true believer, and Liam the analytical linchpin that holds the team together become the worldwide sensation known as.. The Cordonian Ghost Hunters. 

A/N - This fic started with me and @angelasscribbles​ discussing how we wanted to write something with a ‘horror feel’ to it, and we both came up with different ideas. Go read hers, if you haven’t! Thanks to Angela and @txemrn​ for brainstorming with me and helping me come up with ideas to get this started! And thank you Angela for literally writing the synopsis for me when I finished this fic and couldn’t get my brain to form another coherent thought. Lol

A/N 2-  I plan on having several more chapters as the guys go to different haunted locations across the world. I’m open to location suggestions if you have them. I’m tagging those who are on my perma tag list and a couple others who have asked, but if anyone wants on or off the list let me know! <3

Chapter Warnings - supernatural creepiness, hauntings, language, mentions of death

Word Count - 7,300 (Sorry! This first chapter is long because it explains the backstory of how everything came to be. The next chapters won’t be this long!)

First things first… New Orleans is my favorite place in all the world.

I’ve been there enough times to have strange experiences that, to this day, I cannot explain.. and one of them definitely involved children running down a hallway and giggling and messing with our door.

Second things second. This trio was giving me mad Ghost Adventures vibes. I was just waiting for Liam to tell Maxwell to go into a room by himself because “he believes the hardest which would encourage the spirits to interact.”

And lastly and most important.. this was brilliantly written! I felt like I was legit watching a ghost show on tv and not reading a fanfic on Tumblr.

I’d also be the girl who’d comment on Maxwell’s Instagram and ask if I need to die to get Drake to notice me too. #teamdrake 😍🤤

If you have a tag list, please add me! I can’t wait to read the next installment, chapter, episode. This is everything I require for spooky season.

To my fellow Robin stans:

Spoilers...

#TeamRobinForever!!

If only they’d make him a LI and allow me to ditch Dalton! #wishfulthinking

—D

Falling Part V

Azriel x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: slight self-destructive behavior, angst, Azriel being a dumb male

A/N: Not gonna lie guys when I initially wrote this chapter, I had the worst writers block and I ended up deleting it all last night and starting it over (which produced this) but I am so excited with where its headed. This chapter is somewhat filler content, but I promise I am putting some things into motion for later! I know I write this literally every fic, but I appreciate you all so much for loving this story and I am so overwhelmed with the support it has gotten. My requests are open so feel free to send all the asks <3

Also, I am almost at 400 followers WHAT?! And I think I’ll do a little personal Q&A or something so you guys can get to know me a little bit <3 I’ll update you in a post soon!

Previous parts here -> Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV

--------------------------------------------------

Azriel is my favorite. He’s always been my favorite.

Elain is garbage. I cannot stand the idea of the two of them being together.

HOWEVER! You write Azriel’s feelings for Elain so well, I kind of ship it? Mostly because it just seems like Azriel just wants to be loved as he is, and Elain is doing that. She’s not asking him to be someone else. She’s not shying away from who he is. Not that I want them to be ENDGAME, but still.

I agree with Feyre though. That this is a form of rebellion for Elain. She was put in a position she never wanted to be in. Was given a mate she never asked for. So now she’s trying to find her own way. Make her own decisions. I’m not saying she doesn’t care for Azriel, I just don’t know that I believe it’s as real as she claims.

AZ! My beautiful brooding idiot. Why are you marrying Elain if you have all these doubts? Do you not see them for what they are? RED FLAGS! Runaway. Call it off. Postpone. Idk. Just do something other that marry her.

I SHIP LUCIAN AND Y/N AND WANT THEM TO BE SOMETHING! THEY’RE CUTE AND PERFECT AND I LOVE THEM.

A Peculiar Fellowship (Part Thirteen)

Legolas x Reader (Series)

A/N: So while I normally do my best to keep reader as neutral as possible, it kind of goes with this series that, as an Elf, Reader has long hair. It’s for the ploooot! I did my best to keep it texture neutral, but let me know if I missed anything :)

But anyways, hello again! I’m here with another long delayed chapter of APF! The Tag List is getting kind of painfully long for the ratio of interaction so I may have to put a cap on it or prioritize tagged readers who interact more.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! It’s basically mostly self indulgent fluff.

<- Previous Part | Series Masterlist |

        A short respite found them after the funeral of Theodred. Some days passed in a manner of hesitant relief, and yet a restlessness stirred, no doubt accompanying the sense of conflict looming on the horizon.

        Gandalf had begun to fill Wormtongue’s previous position, helping King Theoden as they began to undo the damage that had been done by Saruman.

        Y/N and Legolas were both kept busy, and thus, separated, as they worked to aid in the restoration of Edoras. The townsfolk had many needs, and there were still some of Wormtongue’s dark warriors to be rooted out.

        On the morning of the fifth day, however, they found a quiet moment before the city awoke, in which to talk.

Keep reading

JUST. All of this. Yes.

I love the relationship between Legolas and YN. The whole scene where she thanks him for seeing her? My heart. It could NOT. 💞

I love how easily your story flows with the actual story. YN sounds like she was there. That she belongs that. The she was always there. The ties to Thorin and the Hobbit and the first “fellowship,” if you would. It’s all so perfect and so freaking brilliant.

I can’t wait for the next part!!

Wool From the Black Sheep pt. 3 (Benedict Bridgerton x reader)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm sure some people are worried because it's so fluffy that the angst will be twice as strong but it's like a 6.5 on my angst scale I think??. But here's some fluff and smut and fluffy smut (smut's at the very end so if you're not comfortable with that it's easy to skip!)

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: smut 👀; hating on Lord Byron (come on, we all know that had to happen); a bit of angst but mostly fluff; pining

Word Count: 3.2k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI!

Ohk. But WHY is your Hyacinth so perfect?! I’ve (finally) finished all the books, and they Hyacinth you just wrote?! Is exactly the Hyacinth in the book. Plotting and sneaky and just a few steps ahead of the rest with her knowledge (regardless of her age, she just KNOWS things).

Not going to lie, if a dude that looked and behaved like Benedict asked to draw my portrait, I’d probably jump his bones before AND after. I applaud YN for at least waiting until after.

I also love how easily swayed YN was to drop all pretenses and just go after what she wanted… regardless of potential consequences. She’s been dealt a crappy hand in life, it was time she did a little living for herself.

BUT NOW! The other shoe has to drop, right? Because she’s not part of the Ton and Benedict is. They could never marry. She could never be anything more than his mistress. So whatever shall they do?! What happens next?! And what will Anthony do when he finds out (because I’m sure he’ll find out, he’s Anthony).

And uh. Who has YN rolled around in the hay with? Because this was clearly not her first rodeo.

Wool From the Black Sheep pt. 2 (Benedict Bridgerton x reader)

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here's Part 2 my dears!! Thank you all so much for your love on this story so far! I did mention that this takes place during season 1 in one of my asks but just in case you didn't see that, here's your reminder!

We're dealing with that Anthony

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: fluff??? mentions of death of parents

Word Count: 2.8k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI!

Ohk. Ohk. But Eloise sneaking into YN’s window?!! Eloise doesn’t seem to truly like anyone, but feels comfortable enough climbing through YN’s window?! I love their relationship already and it’s brand new.

How cute and amazing is YN’s ability to make the Bridgerton forget their fear of storms? And how easily she falls into their masses like she’s always been there. Like she’s always belonged there.

FREAKING ANTHONY. I’d like to think Anthony wouldn’t really be like that. Considering he loves his family more than anything else in the entire world (including more than he’ll ever love himself), but I can also see him feeling some kind of jealousy for not being the one to make them feel better. For maybe feeling the same way about storms that they do, but being unable to show that emotion - or rather, thinking he shouldn’t. I hope he warms up to YN. I think she’d be good for him too.

I need to take YN love advice. Maybe the outcomes of my courtships would end up better than they currently do. 🤣

OH MY JONAS! HOW CUTE AND BENEDICT AND YN?!! So absorbed in each other and art that they’ve both totally forgotten about everything and everyone else. My heart.

Talk about Daphne hitting everything on the nose. “Love does not care about such things… unfortunately, marriage does.”

Is this forecasting ANGST?! I feel like it has to be. And dang it! My heart isn’t ready. Not after how freaking cute YN and Benedict currently are.

Wool From the Black Sheep pt. 1 (Benedict Bridgerton x reader)

Series Masterlist

A/N: So, here’s the new series I am working on! I grew up watching Sound of Music and when I watched Bridgerton for the first time I was like “damn these are the Von Trapps” (in a way, of course). So I decided to ride the coattails of one of the best musicals ever (in my opinion) and write this Governess AU! I hope you enjoy it!

There will be more fluff this time, folks…though, of course, there will be angst. Who would I be if there wasn’t?

Reader is 26 and an orphan :/ (makes the most sense for a governess tbh). Also, I really have no clue how old the characters are cause I feel like I’ve read different things everywhere (and I haven’t read the books) so I’m going off of what feels right…

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: none for now??; slightly ooc characters

Word Count: 2.4k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI!

Keep reading

Ohk. Ohk. I know you’ve never read the books, but the way you write Colin is so ON POINT to book-Colin. Book-Colin is so-so much better than show-Colin. He’s sassy and snarky, and he’d all the way, unabashedly, flirt with the new governess. He’s just that kind of dude.

Benedict and YN bonding over art?! All of this, YES, please. It’s the most romantic of settings (in my opinion), not to mention the fact that she actually LIKES his work.

“She’s wonderful.”

I Know You So Well Drabble

Asking the Queen

Requested / #2 Drabble Masterlist Series Masterlist

A/N: Did you miss me? I feel like I have been gone forever but it has been like 5 days...but in internet speak that might as well be forever. I have a fresh laptop now that is just aching to be used!

So here we have them asking the Queen for that special license (yikes, scandalous) and...a little treat for everyone that hates her mother (same honestly)

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: evil mother

Word Count: 1.6k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI

Is it wrong that I was kind of waiting for Father to shove Mother out of the carriage?! I mean. He seems like a sensible, good natured dude, who seems to love his daughter.. doesn’t he get tired of Mother’s bullshit?! I know I would.

My heart. “If all I’m to have is one day, then I want it to be tomorrow.” Benedict. Ben. My heart. It is so full of love.. and, my heart. 💞

I’m glad Queen Charlotte recognizes and appreciates love. I think life would be very different for YN and Benedict if she didn’t. I’m so glad she was like.. you know what? YES! Let’s grant this special license! Love and be loved, you two! Love and be loved.

YN FOR THE FREAKING WIN! For putting her mother in her place. She is dreadful and awful and every other word that means dreadful and awful. I’m glad YN finally stood up for herself. It was long overdue, clearly, but came at the most perfect time.

Oh Violet. Best human, honestly. There’s no one quite like her (and even though Lady Danbury is my soulmate, there’s something so powerful and rewarding in Violet’s character that makes her the legit best).

FINALLY TUMBLR PROPERLY TAGS ME. Thank the Jonas!

I Know You So Well Drabble

The First Pregnancy; How Does One Come To Be With Child??

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Drabble Masterlist

Requested/#2

A/N: Oh, wait…Is that fluff I see?? This was so fun and also slightly awkward to write…I have no idea how people give the sex talk to their children…Good on them.

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: morning sickness; illusions to smut; ridiculous explanation of sex and pregnancy fraught with too many metaphors; talk of periods and blood; use of words penis and vagina 🤷🏽‍♀️ We’re giving the sex talk here, people

Word Count: 1.9k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI!

Keep reading

First and foremost, I’m going to fight Tumblr because it did not tag me and therefore did not tell me I had something that needed my attention… AKA THIS FLUFFY OF FLUFFINESS. Tumblr needs to do better.

This line though: “Have you had one original thought in your life or are you determined to copy me forever?” Such a sick burn and so Anthony. But because it’s Anthony, we both know he’s really over the moon for his brother and YN.

The sex talk?!!!! I am DEAD. So dead. 🤣🤣 It is so pathetic the way they handled things like sex and pleasure back then. Like it was somehow only the entitled to men and women were left to flounder. Have to give it to the Bridgerton Boys though. They know how to keep their ladies happy. 😏😏

And yes. Agreed. No spawn for me, but if Benedict Bridgerton randomly showed up in my existence, I’d rethink that in a heart beat.

I Know You So Well Drabble

Benedict, Reader, and their daughters

Series Masterlist

Requested

A/N: So, here is one of the drabble requests. We're giving them children, y'all. Benedict definitely gives girl dad energy, so that is what we are pulling from. I named the daughters...I sort of liked the idea of them continuing the alphabet rather than starting it over again.

This takes place about 5 years after the end of IKYSW - Isabella is 4 and Josette is around 4 months

Also, I have not read the books so idk what takes place like 5 years after season 2 -- ie, who is married to whom, how many babies there are, so I sort of just winged it. (Though I am fairly certain that Anthony would name his first son Edmund, like who are we kidding)

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: talk of pregnancy? Illusions to smut; beginnings of smut

Word Count: 1.9k

As always, 18+ Minors DNI!

Fun fact! (Only because I recently started the Bridgerton novels and am currently on 7 of 8.) Anthony does name his 1st born son Edmund!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the idea of Benedict being a girl dad, because he so is! And the idea of YN and Benedict picking up with Violet and Edmund stopped with the naming of their children. It’s PERFECT, and definitely something I feel like both YN and Benedict would feel strongly about.

I ship the bleeding hell out of YN and Benedict. They are endgame and relationship goals and everything else positive and pure in this world.