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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
seen from France
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Poland
seen from Australia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Indonesia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Spain
@regencis
dearest readers ,
an independent, private, highly selective & low activity BRIDGERTON MULTI MUSE. written by ASH / they them / 25+. this blog features canon & oc muses from the n*tflix show and does not currently take any canon from the books ( as i have not read them ). do not follow this blog if you are UNDER 21.
i. INFO. ii. MEMES. iii. USFW SIDEBLOG. iv. MAIN BLOG.
obviously i've been low activity here, but feel free to follow me on @goblincaptain and @slashaer.
i had a super busy weekend, but i should be here / on my multi @slashaer this upcoming week <3
@francescca.
to wake next to her feels as is he has been given an eternal gift, one that he will forever be benefitting from for as long as he lives. and perhaps even beyond that, too. though he’s not exactly a god-fearing man, no-one can ever be sure what happens beyond life, not until one faces it head on. so whatever kind of afterlife there may be, if any at all, he knows that he will go into it with nothing but the utmost devotion for the woman who is laying beside him. and even now, years down the line and with many children in their home, his love for her has not faltered one bit. in actual fact, he can be certain that it has grown exponentially since the moment he first laid eyes on her. with every second that passes, he can only but love her more. ‘ can i truly be blamed for my declarations? what husband, when faced with such a sight as the one i see before me, would not be honour-bound and, in fact, compelled to say such things with swift immediacy? ’ he kisses her lips, softly, though there is intent lingering behind his action. ‘ would you deny me that, my sweet violet? ’
my sweet violet. more tender words have never touched her ears, though a pinkness does tinge the skin along with them. never must she doubt the validity of edmund's admiration for her, because he had never been so much as frightened or ashamed to proclaim his love at any given chance. even when they were younger, even at the start. despite knowing there was more than just their love in the world, violet couldn't imagine anyone loving someone more than she loved him. nothing compared to the swell of her heart in her chest whenever he spoke, or grabbed her hand, or kissed her, much as he did now. in the sunlight that seeped in through the curtains, warmth touched the loving couple within their bed, violet smiling gently against edmund's lips, pulling away only when they had both gotten their fill. 'no, i suppose you cannot be blamed. nor would i ever deny you of anything. not in this life, nor any other we may find each other in,' soft eyes explore his own. she never wants to leave this bed, his arms, his side. soon, the children would rise and the chaos of the day would begin, but for now, violet focuses on the man lying nearly beneath her. 'it is a wonder - to wake from a dream, only to find myself in another,'
SHE FELT LIKE A CENTERPIECE. like something that was ornamental that was meant to be stared at, not interacted with. she supposed that it was in an effort to catch the queen's eye. yet when her presentation came and went with little spectacle it was clear that she was no diamond. she tucked her curls behind her ears, puffing out her cheeks with a sort of pout. "we should have waited another year auntie." she said quietly. "there's something wrong about this summer it's too hot - and the queen is in a sour mood." a quirk of her eyebrow upward as she took a step toward the other, the feathers in her hair moving with her. "perhaps you were all too keen to get me out of the house quickly." she teased, "i am the eldest girl, you should want to set an example with me."
@regencis
hester looked beautiful, and even the uninterested turn of charlotte's head wouldn't make catherine believe otherwise. bowing toward the queen, lady st. clair proudly walked her niece away form the gazing eyes of the other women that were to be debuted this afternoon, her smile never faltering along the way. 'i can assure you, the queen is often in a sour mood,' catherine sounds amused as she faces hester. not a curl out of place, not a crease in her dress. her features are striking. she bares such a resemblance to catherine's sister that the women softens a bit just looking at her. 'on the contrary, i think you've set a fine example. you do not need to be a diamond, my dear. you already shine brighter than any other young lady in the ton,' hand presses against esther's cheek. 'this was simply a formality. promise me you won't allow the outcome to effect your mood,'
oh , the pure & complete irony of this current relationship of theirs is not lost on the aspiring theatre actor. theo ran away to escape the confines of royal life several years ago & now ? now , here he is , falling for a princess without a second thought , a princess whom he probably would have been forced to marry him if he were still a prince & living in ardenia. it's a funny situation he finds himself in , but one miss barbara is none the wiser. they haven't been courting one another long , but theo has not been brave enough to tell her the truth of his origins. to reveal so much of his past when she loves him for who he is as a person has deterred him on more than one account , living on the thrill of such a beautiful & innocent romance , one that blossoms & is slowly turning to full on love. he hasn't said those words yet to her , but he feels them so deeply in his soul. when he does say those three words , he knows he'll need to be honest with her , but for now , perhaps he wants to ride on this high for a moment longer & enjoy what they have without the complications dragging them down.
❝ barbara. ❞ theo is damn near breathless as he turns to face her , wearing her signature pink as she approaches , all smile & pure joy just from being near him. who can say they have shared such a similar & innocent experience ? it makes his heart sing & he doesn't hide the way his cheeks burn , just as his whole being equally burns for her. ❝ a surprise ? i feel as though you are spoiling me far too much , darling. first the ball yesterday & now this ? ❞ he doesn't go into detail about the ball what with her handmaiden present. he won't talk about how they kissed so passionately on that balcony , the scent of her perfume still muddling his senses hours later , the sound of her name whispered so eagerly into her parted lips. he clears his throat after a moment lost in thought , happy to allow barbara to take the lead , social constructs be damned. ❝ well , i can't say no to a princess , now can i ? ❞ theo chuckles , giving her gloved hand a squeeze. ❝ am i meant to close my eyes & allow you to take the lead ? i trust you won't let me run into a wall if that's the case. ❞
the sweetness of his voice and the mention of events prior cause a shade of rose to infiltrate the porcelain white of her cheeks. theo calls her darling she swears her heart may beat out of her chest. as much as barbara has always dreamed of experiencing a love match, she had willed herself not to dream to extremely, knowing that she may well be disappointed, that she would instead have to marry for political reasons instead of personal ones. but now she could have that hope back. meeting theo had changed everything, continued to change everything, even as he clasps her hand and proves, again, that there was no one in the world more loyal than he is. no one knew of their secret affair, but the princess thought they were close to becoming something more. she understood that she loved him, more than she had loved anyone or anything before. she felt as if he knew her down to her core, and that was a feat in and of itself. barbara can't help the bright smile that spreads across pink lips at theo's words.
'you may keep your eyes open, for now. there is a carriage waiting outside,' as a hopeless romantic, baraba has certain desires that she had not been able to talk about to anyone - until she met theo. they've spent hours discussing anything and everything they could think of, actually hearing each other rather than participating in empty conversation. as barbara led theo out the back of the theater and toward the carriage that was waiting discreetly for them, she understood how frightening it should be, knowing how much she loved him in such a short period of time. instead, the princess found herself relieved at how easy it had been to love him. grinning back at him once more, barbara climbed into the carriage, pulling theo with her, sitting close to him as they shared a seat, rather than sitting opposite one another, as was appropriate conduct. smile is soft now as she clasps his hand in her own. 'there is a bit of travel involved, but i promise, you will not be disappointed,'
" i must say - i'm surprised to find an acquaintance here... " or, to put it more precisely, she had not expected to see a face she recognized from the soirées frequented by less exalted company. of course, such parties were far more entertaining than anything the ton might manage. and he would not be the first wealthy man from a fine family to dip his toe in a world different than his own... but here, she is well aware of how their positions have changed. he belongs in this place - she is here to be gawked at. it has always been so: women of her profession are admired for their talents, their names are devoured in the scandal sheets... but the society matrons would die before associating with them too closely. she has grown used to the strange dichotomy - and if the same ladies who would avoid her in the street wish to pay her to sing for their guests? she is no martyr. she will happily take their coin. and socialize with those they likely would rather she did not... " were you planning on saying hello? or was the snub deliberate? " she says it dryly, but there's a spark of humor in her eyes.
starter call. --> @regencis
there was so little benedict found interesting at these gatherings that he found himself unaware of what to do with himself, most times. running and hiding always seemed like a good option, but even that wouldn't keep him from the eyes and grabbing hands of society. and surly his mother would publicly scold him if benedict chose not to attend every single gathering the ton had to offer ( and there were many ). there was a reason the second born bridgerton enjoyed the smaller, perhaps more intimate, but definitely less stress inducing, parties that he found himself at when his mother and siblings weren't looking his way. he'd met many an interesting character at the soirees, not in high society, but the one below it. now greeted by one of those characters, benedict can't deny she had caught his eye earlier in the evening, understanding hetty to be familiar. what he could say was that him not approaching hadn't been for malicious reasons.
'miss hughes,' head bows a bit towards her. despite not being a lady of high society, there as no reason to disrespect her. not in her arena, and certainly not in his. benedict is ( regardless of his views on marriage, settling down, and starting a family ) still a gentleman. 'i assure you, the only reason i hadn't greeted you sooner was due to a rather maddened swarm of unmarried women trying to catch my eye,' mouth quirks at one side, her amusement reflected in his own. 'i was planning on saying hello... hello,' he grins wider, hoping he hadn't offended the singer too much.
jo jumps out of her skin at a voice suddenly interrupting her, whirling with a glare at the ready for the speaker. she recognizes him instantly - - - how can she not? the american rake, callum andrews. if it weren't for his reputation, jo would have a million questions about america, about traveling, seeing the world with his own two eyes rather than having to make do with reading about it in books. "one could say much the same to you, mr. andrews." she says with the sort of direct acidity so rarely found in the mouths of eligible young ladies ; it's that sharp tongue that has kept her safe from most suitors, thank god. her sisters are all far more agreeable - - - it has been widely said that meg is lovely, and beth is shy and sweet, and amy is vivacious, but jo? the second eldest of the march girls is brash and bold and not at all interested in marrying, she has made that plenty clear to the poor handful of sorry souls who have dared show the barest hint of interest.
'i'm sure one could, but would they? would you?' callum raises a brow down at the woman, smirk never ceasing, not even as he removes himself from around the large plant and steps up beside her, instead. he knew just as much about jo and her family as she did him, callum was sure. whether the things he knew were true or not was the question. gossip mongering seemed to be a rather common thing, around here. which had been, callum thought, beneficial for him, seeing as how he was dodging as many debutantes and their merciless mamas as possible. his mother found it detrimental - of course she did - but he didn't mind what she thought so much. sliding his hands into his pockets, he gazes down at jo with features in constant amusement. 'a young lady such as yourself would never say such rude things. then again, i don't actually know you that well - maybe you would,' smile flashes teeth before callum pulls out his flask again, taking a swig before offering it to her. 'are you going to answer the question or not? why're you out here alone?'
placid but contained, that has been ann's demeanour for most of this evening. though the opera box afforded her a semblance of privacy and peace, some hours where she could relax and simply enjoy herself, the curtain seemed to fall all too soon, and she was returned to the crowds and social climbers that she so dreaded. there are few who dare to approach without a prior invitation, yet those who do are so brazenly forward it's difficult to engage with them, and oh-so-exhausting. how unusual, that one could feel swarmed and lonesome at the same time!
she tries to tame her smile as the young lady bobs a curtsy, seeming to realise whose path she's stumbled onto a moment too late. truth be told, ann feels that she can relate to the feeling; of being somewhere she oughtn't, of not knowing how to act or what to say. it stirs up a sense of sympathy in her chest, and so she bows her head gracefully, almost a silent invite for her to step closer, lest the princess be left with the fossils of her entourage all night. "yes, i did, thank you. it was quite ... different to those that i have attended in paris and naples, but charming all the same." she considers her reply carefully, as though it was a question of the utmost importance, therefore deserving of an equally significant answer. "do you often frequent the theatre, miss featherington?"
penelope finds herself in awe of princess ann, though she tries her best not to seem it - the last thing she wanted to do was make the other woman uncomfortable, knowing, surly, that many others had already tried to boldly assert themselves in front of her. but she could not help the admiration she held for her. not just her beauty, her dress, her perfectly falling hair and the porcelain of her skin. but, too, the grace she held herself with. it must be overwhelming, greeting others and seemingly never stopping, having others throw themselves at her with no grace of their own. and so penelope took a moment to admire ann, and then she hears her response, and the question that follows. nerves return, but penelope is able to give a smile.
'not so much, i'm afraid. my mama is not incredibly fond of attending the opera,' which meant that penelope rarely found herself here. as much as she would rather being reading books in her little corner of the world, she could not help but be enthralled by the romance and tragedy of the stories that play out on stage. even in a different language, one could understand the story, and penelope found that entrancing. eyes light up for a moment, penelope clasping gloved hands in front of her. 'paris and naples... that sounds wonderful. i am not well traveled, myself -' in fact, she has never had the opportunity to leave the ton. as much as she dreamed of doing so, penelope knew it was unlikely to happen. '- but i can imagine how incredible that must have been. if you don't mind me asking, do you have a favorite?' perhaps penelope should be leaving to find portia and her sisters, but this is the most interesting conversation she's had in weeks. she did not want to leave, now.
SHE WAS BETROTHED. in some sense dani always had been. her father, having been a shrewd business man, and her mama anxious to secure her future, they had decided that she was to marry lord o'mara. it was lucky that the last lord o'mara had finally passed the title down to his son, someone who dani had grown up with. while the prospect of marriage has always been evident it had never felt as stifling. dani watched the couples twirl on the dance floor, grateful that her intended was away on business,
the summer air is cool and the gardens are quiet. there's a rustle behind her and she almost jumps. dani recovered after a moment, laughing before she smiled at the recognition of the middle bridgerton. "you scared me. thought you might be a suitor looking to fill my dance card."
@regencis
it had been a lot for her to take it: the knowledge the dani would be married. eloise should have known it would happen sooner or later, but the thought of something and the reality of it were two very different things. it hardly seemed fair. not for dani, and certainly not for eloise, who was taking this personally. which made her feel selfish. which made her feel even worse about the whole thing. part of her wanted to be mad at dani, but it wasn't her fault, and eloise knew that. it was always the parents who decided the fate of the daughter's future, if they didn't step up and do it themselves. it isn't fair, she kept saying to herself. it isn't fair.
'i've been looking for you everywhere,' when eloise finally finds dani in the garden, she's relieved. the ballroom had been stifling. she needed air and a friendly face. if only eloise was a suitor who could write her name on dani's dance card. if only she were a man. if only, if only, if only. eloise gives the other woman a smile. 'what are you doing out here all by yourself? surly you cannot be so sick of oggling men and gossiping women that you'd prefer the quiet comforts of the night,' sarcasm drips lightly from her words as he approaches. 'shall we walk? it is beautiful out here,'
normally, she would crush down the spike of irritation. worse things, crueler things, have been said in her presence—said to her, even—and she's learned, for the most part, to let them slide off of her. but it's hot in here, and crowded, and every night she becomes more convinced that there isn't a man in this country who wants her and not her title. she retreated to this corner to get away from the throng, catch her breath, try and calm down... and instead, she's found herself the unwilling audience to his complaints. she shouldn't take his words personally, she knows, but given her predicament (everyone here knows she's in search of a husband), desperate stings. it's not even as though she's paid mr. darcy any special attention since being introduced to him; her uncle had simply murmured not a bad match, he's quite a handsome man... but so dour!
dour indeed, she thinks as he recovers from the start she gave him. it's not surprising he didn't notice her, as her silk dancing slippers don't exactly boost her height & she barely reaches his shoulder. were it not for her own sour mood, she might have apologized for giving him a fright, but the frayed remains of her willpower are currently focused on not bursting into tears or a tirade at this whole wretched affair. she meets his bow with a gracious nod. "on the contrary," she quips with a forced lightness, "my own intent was to lament wasted evenings with shallow, arrogant men." she glances across the room at the most recent offender, some man whose name she cannot for the life of her remember. he's engaging some other woman half his age in conversation; percy nearly winces in sympathy.
it's clear almost immediately that it had been the wrong place, the wrong time, and - indeed - the wrong person to have said his rather sour words to. glancing over the princess's features, mr. darcy can tell immediately that her evening was not going as she might have imagined it to be going. he can't blame her for being somewhat prickly. after all, the king and queen had made it quite clear why persephone had entered the ton for the season, and so far, none have been worthy enough to look at her, let alone ask for her hand. though he assumed many have tried. and failed miserably, no doubt. and now, a man had set his dour expectations on her. granted, he hadn't known she was there, but still - darcy could understand why she was looking at him as if he was the enemy.
'have i struck a nerve, your highness?' says the man, as if he was unable to help himself. it was not to tease or taunt, but mr. darcy did think that, if she was going to wear her heart on her sleeve and show her ( currently negative ) mood on her features, than he should be able to ask what it was that was making her so bitter. whether she was talking about him when she muttered shallow and arrogant, darcy could not exactly say, but he had been called that, and worse. these things did not effect him as they did the other members of their society. if he was these things, than it was only to protect his sister, and the wealth that he was keeping specifically for her, too. he remains stark straight, neck craned a bit so that he might see the woman that was much shorter than him. 'i can tell you that it was not on purpose, if i have,'
his compliments were far too kind . she was nowhere near a professional but the sheer fact that a stranger thought she was made all the difference . it was encouraging . so she smiles sheepishly , almost unable to thank him for such lovely words . ❝ you're too kind , but thank you . that's something i'm delighted to hear . ❞ it wasn't that her family disapproved of her keen interest in the forte , but they often thought that her time at the piano outweighed her interest in finding a potential husband by the end of the season . and it did . if the choice were to be handed to her , then indeed she'd choose the pianoforte over the idea of marriage . especially if she couldn't find a love match . [ .... ] intently she listens to him , nodding to how he speaks about playing in his since he was a child . which she envies and admires . perhaps he's a hidden pianoforte genius , of whom she's been nonchalantly talking to .
the mention of playing together brightens her up . francesca isn't sure she heard him right , but when she catches a glimpse of his side profile , she's more than positive she did . ❝ oh ! sure , of course ! ❞ excitement bubbled up in her throat . francesca has never had anyone to play with or show interest in wanting to , so she's almost fumbling when she's removing the current sheet music , placing it in the small stack of sheet music she located and holding out in front of them . ❝ i'm afraid my actual usual pieces are not here , fore ... this is not my home , but i think we can find something in here . ❞ she hands a couple of the sheets to him and shows him the rest . ❝ there's bach's cello suite no . 1 ─── ❞ she begins , eyes flickering between him and the music to attempt to gauge his reaction .
laurent would not call himself a prodigy when it came to the pianoforte. he was just as good as his fellow artists, the musicians that came and went from his home back in france, but he would not compare himself to the likes of mozart, nor would he ever claim to. the prince was much more fond of the written word, of poetry, though that was something he had kept to himself for many years, and didn't intend on sharing. but he could appreciate the craft of playing an instrument for what it was, and he did know his way around the piano. when the opportunity arises to play with someone like her, laurent would not turn it down. not for anything. the chance to connect on any level was scarce for him, and so prince laurent found himself wanting the moment more than he normally might.
'an excellent choice,' the way she seems to light up at the offer causes a grin to play on laurent's mouth, soft but visible. until now, he had remained stoic, never showing an emotion that might be used against him in this strange place one called society, but here, he felt a sort of safety. he still hadn't even learned the young woman's name, and yet, he thought he could trust her. she wasn't fawning over him, for starters, which made this conversation much easier. more than that, however, she wasn't trying to hide the fact that she was hiding here. just like he wanted to. hand reaches to grab for the sheet music, finger brushing hers. glancing over the music, his smile grows just so, the prince setting the pages onto their stand as he readied his hands over the keys. eyes glance at her once more. 'i shall follow your lead,'
alright gang, i'm settling in for the night. prepared to be sick of me.
DEAR READERS , private & low activity. this blog features canon & oc muses from the n*tflix show and does not take any canon from the books ( as i have not read them ). do not follow this blog if you are under 21.
also consider this a dynamics call. like those post and we can discuss a ship ( be it romantic platonic familial, etc. ).
unfortunately i ran out of time and have to sleep, but i'll def be back to write this weekend.
