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wutheringmights · 8 months

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If a book has a pretty cover, it's not allowed to be bad. Yet, that's exactly what I got from "Daughter of the Moon Goddess" by Sue Lynn Tan. It's a 1/5 for me, folks.

This was a really infuriating book to read because I didn't need it to be good. I just wanted it to be fun, and yet no element of it worked for me.

The plot was episodic at best and unfocused at worst. Plot points that could have been books within their own right were introduced and solved within the span of a couple of chapters. Think everything from adapting to court life to going on magical quests to seek out legendary dragons.

Not only that, but many plot points were solved by the biggest contrivances in the world. For example, our main character was able to spike another's drink with the petals of a flower she found in their garden WHILE on the way to trick them. This was premeditated. She did not know the flowers were there, but there would have been no way her plan could have happened without them.

Don't even get me started on how the villain's entire scheme only worked out for them by pure chance. They were about to give up when it turns out by sheer coincidence that the main character was going to get her hands on the magical plot device they had been seeking for hundreds of years.

Speaking of which, the characters were flat beyond belief. I don't mind characters being simplistic or even archetypes, but they have to at least be entertaining. None of them were. The love rivals were infuriating in how similar they were. Our main character could not stop narrating about how much she hates lying and how she was deceiving everyone, while at the same time never once thinking anything through.

How bad is she at thinking things through? Imagine it's 2010 and President Barack Obama killed your mom. You have sworn revenge. Then you meet Sasha Obama at Martha's Vineyard, and she invites you to her home: the White House. So you go to the White House, only to remember that's where Obama lives when you see him sitting in the Oval Office.

Not only is our main character dumb enough to do that, but she did do that. All of that actually happened in the story, sans two-term president Barack Obama.

The rest of the characters? Not worth mentioning. They were nothing.

The genre of the story was also very confused. There were times that the world seemed to operate on fairy tale logic and others were it was trying to be realistic. For example, the main character was immediately good at archery because her dad is a legendary archer. Alright, sure. I can get behind that. But then the villain's plot involved tricking the enemy kingdom into violating a treaty of nonaggression so that they could justifiably wage a war against them without their allies lending aid. Huh? That's their scheme? To avoid an international incident?

I'm not even getting into how the rushed plot points pushes the characters from a fairy tale to a court drama to a war story to an adventure quest without succeeding at any of them.

I guess I could call this novel a romance, but none of the romances work either because the author merely assumes you want these characters to end up together and, therefore, does not even attempt to show the characters falling in love. In general, so much character development is hidden behind strange time jumps of anywhere from a few weeks to whole years passing.

Most of all, the way this story was written drove me nuts. Yes, there is some pretty, flowery language that more or less passes as feeling old and magical. But no amount of metaphors can cover up that the story just TELLS the readers what every character is feeling. At no point does the prose SHOW.

(I have some extended thoughts about how this novel's prose made me contemplate my own craft, but it's late and I want to go to bed soon. I'll come back tomorrow with some musings, so look forward to that).

So, yeah. This is a no from me. I really tried to like it, but I mainly felt like I was wasting my time. I'll probably dump this book the next time I de-clutter my bookshelf. I'm just glad that I didn't buy the sequel when I saw it on sale.

#god i didn't even mention all the areas where it was obvious an editor came back and told Tann to cover up a plot hole #i wanted this book to be good! i wanted it to feel like a silly webtoon!!! it just did nothing right!!!#ok that's a lie. i liked the last chapter where they visited the dad's grave and cleaned it up. that was sweet #me rambling #me reading #daughter of the moon goddess #daughter of the moon goddess by sue lynn tan #the daughter of the moon goddess #bookblr

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exquisiteserotonin · 7 months

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Footsteps to Follow

Part 2: Show Me How

Series Summary: The loss of a loved one lasts forever and every person finds different ways to heal.

Pairing: Romantic Pairing will eventually be Foodtruck Owner! Joel x Alice, but nonromantic pairing is Dave York and his daughter Alice.

Warnings: MATURE, 18+ ONLY, please. No smut here, but A LOT of angst and sadness, death and violence, human trafficking of minors

Word Count: ~2.7K

A/N: This is going to be a slow burn, I have a clear idea of where this is going. I hope you enjoy and hope you are patient and will stick with me for the payout of this story. It's fast becoming my baby <3 Also a HUGE, HUGE shoutout to one of my besties @imalrightllama who gave me an idea for a certain image in this part.

Also I don't know French I only put one word of it in here, Désolé, and it means excuse me.

Thank you so much to my magical sluts for encouraging me with this! <3 I'm so glad you love Alice as much as I do.

@imalrightllama @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @basicoccult @blueheat1-blog1 @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @arcanefox207

The morning light floated softly through the air, touching the apartments, cafes, and offices that stood alongside the cobblestone streets. It shimmered against the fresh, clean morning dew that mixed with the aroma of viennoiserie and coffee from cafes that stood like guards at nearly every street corner. Alice sat in a pretty, metal cafe chair stirring in the small splash of milk in her coffee. She dipped the last bit of croissant she had left into her coffee; part of the blackberry jam she had spread on it fell into the bottom of the cup. She swirled the last bit of coffee in her mug before bringing it to her lips. The last bit was always her favorite. The sweet taste and light tartness from the jam was a perfect companion to the bitterness of the coffee.

If it weren’t for the job, she could enjoy her time here more. She rose from her quiet spot near the front door of the cafe. She walked along quiet morning streets as market vendors began setting up their different produce, wares, and textiles. The streets were beginning to become less crowded the closer you approached the seedier part of town, the part of town no tourists were ever supposed to visit after dark. Alice glanced at her reflection in the shoppe windows she walked alongside. She could almost pass for a locale, with a pair of sensible, but fashionable straight legged jeans and navy blue and cream-colored striped sweater. The only part that was unrecognizable was the blonde colored wig she donned on her head. But just like her clothes, the style of it blended well with every other French girl who still had shaggy layers and bangs reminiscent of Brigitte Bardot.

Alice’s strides became smaller as the sidewalk became more crowded with people and refuse. As she walked through the growing crew of pedestrians, she lost her footing when she was jolted off balance by a passerby.

“Désolé,” she murmured.

Looking up through her sunglasses, she noticed a girl not more than fourteen, wearing a short form-fitting black dress, disheveled and confused. She was flanked by two tall and burly men with thick, dark hair atop their square heads.

The Corsicans, she thought to herself.

They were doing a fair job trying to keep her steady but hidden from any unwanted attention. Their attempts were nowhere near the skill level with which Alice blended in with the crowd, unassuming and unthreatening. Alice stole into a small grocery store watching as the two men hoisted the limp girl up the stairs of a perfectly ordinary-looking apartment building across the perfectly ordinary street.

The next part was always the easiest and quickest for her. Floating her way through adjoining terraces and rooftops was akin to taking the lead in a lazy pas de deux, where all she had to do was pirouette, jump, and throw her dance partner around. Their arrogance of leaving a window near the rooftop allowed her to slink in silently. Another girl, not more than fifteen, lay limp on a bed, alive in body but barely in spirit. She wanted to take them away one by one from this life they had been forced into with the promise of comfort and wealth.

The targets are your priority. She heard her mentor’s voice in her head. Distractions will get you killed.

A silencer covered gun in one gloved hand and a knife in the other, she danced her way through. Guns to heads and knives to throats, it took less than 10 minutes. For a moment she thought one of the burly thugs had laughed at her size. It was his mistake. He was dead with a stab to the throat before he could even aim his gun at her. One last target awaited and expected her, having heard his associates fall like dominoes before him. He was holding the girl you had seen earlier unsteadily in his hands.

“One wrong move and her mother won’t even recognize her body to identify her,” the gangster roared at her in French.

She didn’t even need the time it took her brain to translate what he said to English for her bullet to strike him between the eyes. Alice was able to look at the girl’s face as she knelt in front of her grabbing a nearby towel wiping the blood she had spilled gingerly from her face as much as she could. She examined her body for any trauma that might need immediate medical attention. Alice’s inner brows were raised with disappointment and sadness. If she could, she’d stay and tend to the girls to make sure they were safe, but she wasn’t keen on blowing her cover and ending up dead like the mobsters she’d just killed. Instead, she reached into her pocket for her phone and dialed the number of the local police. She gave them the address as she escaped the way she came in, barely a scratch on her. With the agility of a cat, she crept through the open terrace window of a nearby apartment, grabbing a brown sweater from the coat hanger by the door without anyone turning a head or batting an eye. Just in time to hear the two-toned sirens of the police, she was already walking far away from the scene and discarding her blonde wig.

Alice climbed the stairs to the sixth floor of the apartment building to Room 603, her safe house. Rope thin gaps between the curtains allowed threads of light to peek into the otherwise dark and sparsely decorated apartment.

“You should have been here five minutes ago,” she heard a quiet voice of a woman say.

“I had to take care of something,” Alice said to the figure hidden in shadows sitting in the lone modern chair tucked off to the left side of the room.

Alice swiftly made her way to the bathroom, yanking off her sweater and tossing it onto the floor. The figure, her handler, followed behind her.

“Wait,” her handler said as she approached her, “let me look at you.”

Her handler stepped close, placing her hands to her face with a gentle touch as she examined her face and neck. Alice’s eyes shifted to a small tattoo on the inside of her handler’s left wrist. She allowed herself a moment to study its impeccable design. Dots, lines, and shading revealed the delicate design of a firefly.

“You got nicked,” her handler stated, her eyes narrowing with her examination as her voice quivered with something that sounded like concern.

“Stop looking at me like you care,” Alice slapped her handler’s hand away. “You’re not my mother.”

“Because your mother was so good at that.”

“Are we done here?” Alice asked, turning on the shower.

“Don’t get sloppy, Alice,” Firefly said. “Don’t get soft; don’t get killed.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Your father would---,” she continued.

“Stop,” Alice interjected, the corners of her lips twitching, “you don’t get to do that.”

“Fine,” she let out a shallow breath before setting down a carefully folded paper sleeve on the nightstand. “Your plane tickets. Flight leaves in 3 hours.”

“Got it.”

Alice looked at her, her expression unmoving as she strode away to leave. Firefly turned to her one more time before walking out the door. Her eyes were glassy, and her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly before she pressed her lips together. The way her brows had softened, her eyes rounded and open, and the way her shoulders slowly slumped caught Alice off guard. In response, she pressed her shoulders back and knit her brows together wondering what her handler could possibly say next.

“Don’t get killed…please.”

Before Alice could respond, she was gone.

When she returned to the bathroom, she looked in the mirror before getting into the shower and examined the scratch. Her breath escaped her lips with a fast huff when she saw a small trickle of dried blood on her neck. With a tight squeeze of her eyes, she turned away from her reflection and found her way to the shower, letting the warm water rain on her. An invisible tightness began to lodge itself in the back of her throat at the realization that if one of the targets had just been able to dig the knife a little deeper or slash at her a little bit closer, she would be dead.

It would have been easy to dwell further on her tiny errors, instead she focused on washing her kills off her body and getting out of Paris. She moved like being propelled by the fastest and most efficient motor. Without checking her watch, she knew she had made it to the airport and through security with sufficient enough time that she wasn’t wringing her hands waiting for her section to be called for seating.

A clear voice sounded over the PA system for her section to begin boarding. She sat comfortably in her seat, surprised that Firefly had secured the premium economy section. The hum of the cabin had Alice staring hypnotically out the window. She shook her head, determined not to let sleep settle over her. Fighting against the hypnosis, she buckled her seatbelt and tightened it. She shuffled her feet underneath her and adjusted the air vent, so it blasted her directly with its cold air. Listening intently to the routine safety procedures given to her by the flight attendants couldn’t even keep her eyelids from growing heavy. By the time the aircraft rumbled and ascended into the air, Alice had lost her private fight against falling asleep.

***

A soft, warm haze surrounded Alice as she found herself in an empty room. The walls glowed with gentle orange, coral, and pink light that touched the walls like watercolors on an empty canvas. With cautious steps, Alice breathed in her surroundings trying to make sense of the warm but empty space where she stood.

A voice called out to her that seemed to be coming, impossibly, from all directions.

“Hi baby,” she heard a low familiar voice call to her.

With a gasp that leapt from her heart to her throat, Alice gasped and spun around. Tears started to escape from the corners of her eyes. Standing before her was her father wearing a light blue dress shirt and black slacks: the last outfit she remembered seeing him in. A gentle breeze lightly caressed the strands of his soft brown hair. Every feature of his face was imprinted in her brain, from the way lines formed on his forehead when he lifted his brows, to the way a dimple showed itself on the right side of his face when his smile was especially big. It didn’t matter how young she was when she last saw him, his face was impossible to forget.

A deep exhale rushed out of her mouth at the sight of him. It was all that could come out in place of the words that she wanted so desperately to say.

“Looking for me, Al?” he said as he studied her with soft, round eyes, his hands resting gently and open at his sides.

“I’m always looking for you, dad,” she was finally able to say, her voice barely coming out louder than a whisper from the tightness in her chest.

Her shoulders rose and fell as he reached his arms out to her. With one swift movement, he enveloped her in his arms, and she felt like she was seven years old again. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and tears began to slip continuously from her eyes down the curve of her face. The curve of her parted lips trembled as she clutched the back of her father’s shirt, gripping it tighter like if she did, he might stay.

“I miss you so much, daddy,” she sobbed.

“I know Al, me too,” the way he breathed into her hair as he murmured the words was so warm and so palpable. “It’s almost time for me to go again.”

“No please, dad, please don’t go,” Alice pleaded through her tears.

“Oh Ali-girl,” he sighed as he comforted her.

She felt him drifting further and further away from her like smoke in the wind.

“You’re going to be OK; I need you to be OK.”

His voice became stern for a moment and rough like gravel at those words.

“Please,” she begged as each clutch she made to keep him with her failed.

“Al, please listen, I need you to take care of yourself,” he said, using his turn to beg with one last kiss to her forehead. “Love you, kiddo.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Alice awoke with a wet face and eyes red and puffy from her tears that found a way from her dreams to the real world. She pressed the back of her right hand to her face, allowing your skin to soak in your tears and attempting to hide her face from anyone who might see. She remained awake but lost herself in the hum of the cabin, feeling an invisible haze wrap itself around her body as she stared at the upper left corner of the in-flight magazine resting in the back pocket of the seat in front of her.

“Ma’am…ma’am, excuse,” she heard a shrill voice begin to break through her haze, “ma’am!”

She turned bewildered, still noticing how puffy her eyes were from her tears. An older woman in the seat next to her turned to the flight attendant---the owner of the shrill voice---and glared at her with narrow eyes and the center of her eyebrows angled downward towards one another.

“Can’t you tell that she’s not in the mood?” The woman replied to the attendant.

Still frozen inside her own thoughts, Alice watched as the woman next to her and the flight attendant rallied back and forth with a controlled heat behind their respective words. The flight attendant walked away with barely audible huff. When the woman turned back to her the lines around her eyes had softened and the corners of her lips were curled up into a small and gentle smile.

“Thank you,” Alice said quietly, “that was really kind of you.”

“Well, I hope someone would have done the same for me,” she responded. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine---I’m just---tired,” Alice sighed.

“Well, if you need sleep the rest of the way,” the woman added, “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

“That’s alright, I’m actually trying to stay awake,” Alice replied, “I’m just super eager to get home.”

She could tell the woman was trying to read the emotions that were so obviously written on her face. It was almost laughable to think that she could hide everything and anything she was in a city of nearly twelve million people, but she couldn’t disguise her feelings from a kind stranger in the confined space of an airplane.

“Well, I will let you rest,” the woman responded, giving her yet another gift of silence and the space to swim in her emotions, “but if you need anything, let me know.”

Alice nodded as she reached into the pocket of her blazer. Resting in her hands was her keychain. It was lavender in color and in the shape of a vintage motel keychain. Her fingers traced over the sides of it, the tips of it reading the script along with her eyes. “New Hampshire” is what it read before she had scratched out the final syllable and covered it with beige washi tape. She traced over the tape with a light touch, a smile slowly blossomed on her lips, somehow filled with both melancholy and love as she studied where she had carefully written on it with a fine tip sharpie marker.

New Hamster.

She took one deep breath through her nose and let it out in a slow, quivering exhale. With the keychain safely tucked into the palm of her right hand, she managed to stay awake for the rest of the flight home.

#juice collective #juice bar collective #dave york #original female character #alice york #murder daughter #angst #this series makes me cry while I write it #look up the area code 603

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drumlincountry · 28 days

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The untranslatable emotion of seeing people unironically share Yeats's poetry, as an irish person,

#Ah another love song about the woman he proposed to. ..11? Times. Was it 11 times?#Before proposing to her Daughter. The same year. Hmmm.yea. romantic.#Another poem abt Irish politics by the protofascist who was pushed down the stairs in a wizard duel?#Who wrote literal marching songs for the Irish fascist paramilitaries?#Him? His thoughts on politics?#The cottage core anticatholic nationalist whose wife had to channel a ghost to get him to him fuck good?#We're sharing his words?#None of.this is really my area of expertise but now REALLY #irish shit #Me Fein

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neptoons1998 · 11 months

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Swimming Lessons

Part 1/3

A/N: Soo I did it thanks to @mal-urameshi for the idea.

Summary; Okoye puts Riri in swimming lessons. Okoye meets er daughter's swimming coach Attuma. Okoye isn't going to do anything except look at him that's all.

Tag gang: @mal-urameshi @pantherheart @somethingcleaverandwhitty

Okoye would say she is a pretty okay mom. The greatest but enough that her daughter wouldn't die by her negligence. And like any helicopter parent Okoye put her three-year-old in swimming lessons. As much as she loved her daughter, Riri was a menace in a loving way. Riri couldn't sit still when she gets her hair done or sitting her car seat. So what does any parent do when they have an active child putting in classes.

Okoye had her daughter in ballet, karate, and piano lessons. The young mother was doing everything to keep miss.busybody from being too busy in her room. Plus on some mommy blog it said it was important for Riri’s age group to socialize with their peers. And her daughter was a genius but she just read the room incorrectly sometimes.

“Oh Riri,” Aneka greeted as she wrapped her arms around the young girl. Aneka took her job as the fun auntie very seriously always trying out for her niece.

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you,” Aneka commented as she glared at her sister,” It’s almost like someone is keeping you away from me.”

"She needs to run this energy," Okoye reasoned to Aneka as she rolled her eyes. Her sister squahed down to Riri's height as she gave her a piece of candy.

"Thank you, Auntie!" Riri shouted as she hug her aunt. Okoye rolled her eyes, "That's why she is in so many classes."

Aneka scoffed at the insult, "Hey she's needs some fun in her life. And it's not like you and Ayo are going to do it?"

"She's needs structure-“ Okoye started.

"in her life. This is the foundation she needs and going to rely on when she gets older, I know I know," Aneka finished her sister's statement.

"It's good to know you listen to me every once and while," Okoye responded. Aneka waved her hand not taking what her sister was saying to her seriously, "So what's the next class that my Riri have to go to now? How to detonate a bomb?"

Okoye rolled her eyes before she can tell her sister about her daughter's next class. Riri jumped up and down, "I'm going to learn how to swim!"

Aneka's lighten up around her niece, "Really? That sounds like fun."

Riri nodded, "Yeah and I'm learning how to swim like swordfish because they swim really fast."

"Really where did you learn about that?" Aneka asked Riri puffed her chest loving the special attention that her aunt was giving her, "Mama and me went to the library today."

"Can you show me the book you got from the library?" Aneka asked Okoye inwardly groaning knowing her sister was going to give her unneeded advice from the peanut gallery. Aneka stood back up to her normal height, "I'm just saying I find it funny how you're the only one entertaining and taking care of her while you know who isn’t doing his share of the work.”

Okoye could only pressed her lips together as she waited for her sister to finish with rant with her good for nothing ex-husband. From Okoye’s view they went into marriage too fast and were pressured by their parents and traditions that their relationship just frizzed out.

“I mean the only good thing that happened from that relationship was having Riri,” Aneka commented as she was finally getting to the end of her rant. Okoye just nodded along letting her sister finish her ranting about her ex-husband. Okoye's eyes followed her daughter's movements between her bouncing on her toes while reading.

"Thanks for your unneeded advice," Okoye said as she moved closer to take her daughter's hand quickly leaving her sister's apartment.

"Are you ready for your swimming lesson?" Okoye asked her pebble as she buckled her in. Riri nodded, "Yeah, I can't wait to tell VIv and Miles about it."

Okoye went to the driver's seat. She looked through the reflection mirror at Riri, "Let's go, swordfish."

#attuma x okoye #attuma of talokan #general okoye #single mom in your area lol #daughter! riri #mama!okoye #mama okoye and daughter riri #riri williams #okoye x attuma #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #writing #romance

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thebirdandhersong · 1 year

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I remember talking to a friend last week and saying that if I'm reading obsessively it either means I'm extremely happy or extremely in need of help. alas goodreads my good pal you have GOT to be kidding me

#i have hit 60 books this year. we are three days into april. i have not been at the pinnacle of happiness this year so it is not that lol #ah well we hit rock bottom we bounce back up! i am trying to claw my way to the surface again!#granted this has been a series of not great distracting tactics to get my mind off the Horrors (i.e. through the mass consumption of #stories in book and film form) but at least i'm recognising and acknowledging it now #i need to actually deal with the Horrors so that there's a chance they'll actually go away!#but i am glad that i HAVE been surrounded by good stories. it has helped. it has been a method of conflict avoidance #in all areas of my life but it HAS helped to have those stories of hope hammered into my head and heart #anyway it looks like i HAVE lost a friend or am very close to losing one because it has been 1.5 weeks and there has been zero response #and there's a ton of Decisions i have to sort through this week #along with other mental health assessments my GP wants me to do #but God is good and He has been very patient with all the bouts of despair and loneliness and frustration etc etc #i just need to keep holding on and keep clawing my way upwards #despite all my failures as a friend and student and probably as a daughter as well this year there has been a lot of grace #and i am trying not to dwell on the past #slings and arrows of outrageous fortune in year 21

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ignorancelive · 3 months

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landlords PLEASE die horrendous fiery deaths why are they literally doubling our rent and getting past rent control by only starting to document our rent prices after the first half of the increase 😐 kill yourself right now

#we've been here for 10 years and paid rent in cash and now theyre like oh you're paying a lot less rent than others in the area #first of all NO SHIT WHY ELSE WOULD BE STAY HERE but also 1.3k to 2k to 2.7k within 6-7 months is CRAZY YOURE INSANE DIE DIE DIE DIE #and i cant get a job bc my moms getting surgery next week so i have to stay home and take care of her and cook #AND my dads on unemployment :) so thanks #our food stamps are in the process of being approved so hopefully we'll have a semi stable income for food soon #idk. i needed to rant somewhere im so mad #we're considering moving out and getting a new place w the neighbors who theyre also increasing rent for #and who also have their main income source out of a job rn bc thats just how trucking is in january #but they have a daughter in elementary school how do you do that and not feel like a spineless asshole #this isnt even your HOUSE its your moms!!!!! and she was a million times less of an asshole #shes actually the one that kept our rent the same but she moved to latam like! do you think shes fucking proud of you! shes NOT #anyways if you see me post my v mo and p pal soon this is why

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sea-owl · 1 year

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So I’ve been reading a lot of villainess isekai novels and Portia came to mind. Imagine a modern day business woman, who after a car accident find herself in the world of Bridgerton, her favorite book series, a 12 years before the start of the first story as Baroness Featherington. Except the Featheringtons are the villains in this universe! Portia was a harsh woman who picked on her third youngest for her weight and would force her daughters to wear horrible colors! The two oldest would pick on Penelope constantly leading her to cling to the Bridgertons greedily while starting a infamous column that nearly ruined people and (I was inspired by all the posts hating on Penelope) with Penelope is later executed for her Whistledown exploits and Portia banished! Oh heck no! Isekai!Portia quickly takes charge of this family, leading them from ruin while also guiding her daughters along firm but more lovingly. As a result Prudence and Phillipa don’t bully Penelope and she’s more comfortable in her own skin. Portia also makes sure her daughter doesn’t meet the Bridgertons to avoid her death flag and Penelope instead befriends Phillip Crane (who Portia also takes under her wing as Phillip would commit suicide in the books down the road due to his trauma). If she hopes Penelope and Phillip will end up together given their closeness, that’s no one’s business now is it. Still, she breathes a sigh of relief when Daphnes season starts with no sign of Whistledown and as her family flourishes, Portia is content to watch her girls thrive and be a loving family. Until Penelope turns 21 and debuts and she watches flabbergasted as Colin bypasses the woman he is supposed end up with (the heroine of his book!) to sign her daughters dance card, TWICE!! Cue Portia trying to keep her daughter away from the Bridgertons to avoid her death, with a very uninterested Penelope who just wants to read in peace without this weird man attempting to gain her attention.

You know, villainess Isekai oddly fits Portia. I like this idea.

Um so this is a long post. I accidentally went a little overboard and I’m on mobile so no read more. Sorry.

So, here's what I'm thinking:

After the birth of her fourth daughter Lady Portia Featherington had woken up with memories of her life before she was Lady Portia Featherington.

In her life before she was a successful, but lonely businesswoman. She had wanted a family, children of her own, but life had not played those cards for her. At 30 years old Portia's past life had ended in an accident.

It was strange her new life and the world around her reminded her of her favorite book series, Bridgerton. Portia was a sucker for a good romance series and having all the leads being from a loving family certainly added to its charm. The other family though, the ones written to be the darker and used as the villains more often than not in the books. Portia thought it was a bit unfair how the author made them so static and one dimensional compared to their Bridgerton counterparts. Some parts of the fandom believed the author held a weird grudge against them. What were their names again?

"Lady Featherington, your daughters are here to see you and the baby," a maid announced.

Portia felt herself sit straighter, daughters. She had daughters in this world. How many? At least three, maybe more? The maid has used daughters as in plural, and she had just given birth to another. Portia could feel a smile growing on her face.

"Please bring them in," Portia said.

The maid looked slightly startled but did as asked. Three redheaded girls were shuffled into the room. If Portia remembered correctly the baby in her arms was Felicity, the oldest at 11 was Prudence, next was Phillipa at 10, and then at 7 was Penelope.

Portia focused in on her third daughter. The little girl folded in on herself, her baby fat cheeks flushing red. Penelope, this was her daughter Penelope. Why does she look so scared? No little girl should look like she has more insecurities than she does years-

The pieces fell together.

The reason this world reminded her of the Bridgerton series so much was because they are one and the same. And Portia Featherington was one of the villainesses.

For reasons unknown to the readers in the series the mother of the Featherington family was cruel to her daughters, especially to her thirdborn. There was some members of the fandom theorized it had to do with Lord Featherington leaving her spurned and possibly in massive debt. She had verbally broken each daughter, successfully turning them into villainesses themselves. The older two, Prudence and Phillipa, took majority of their frustrations and anger out on their younger sisters. Penelope and Felicity turned their cruelty on the ton. They worked as a team, befriending sisters from the most beloved family in the ton, the Bridgertons. Once they secured that Penelope put her gift for writing to work by creating a gossip column sheet that told everyone’s secrets, no matter how big or small, using full names, and was purposefully written to ruin lives. With one word they could turn the whole ton against each other. It went even so far as to expose the secrets of the royal family. No one suspected the darling friends of the Bridgertons though.

Well until book four where Colin Bridgerton had exposed Penelope as the gossip columnist Lady Whistledown. At the end of the book Penelope is executed, and Felicity had escaped until book seven where she goes head-to-head with her former Bridgerton bestie. Portia herself is sent to live in exile, while it is unknown what happened to the older two.

Portia looked over all her daughter once more. No, she will not let them become that.

As soon as she was able to Portia had moved her daughters out to their country home near the border of Gloucestershire and Somerset. Best to get her daughters away from the main setting and heroes of the series for as long as she could. She’s gonna fight tooth and nail to make sure her daughters are alive and happy.

From their country home Portia began to put her business skills to work by first righting the accounts and then taking a look at some new business deals. Portia winced at how little money her family actually had, apparently those fandom theories were not far off. The husband she left in London certainly had a gambling problem. She can fix this though.

Penelope, who was now eight and not as afraid to come near her mother, watched as she stood on her tippytoes. “Mama what are you doing?”

“Looking over the accounts sweetie. I’m thinking about investing in a new deal and I want to see how much money I can use. I am also making sure I am choosing the right business partner.” Portia picked Penelope up and sat her on her lap. “Do you wish to help Mama?”

Penelope nodded; eyes focused on the papers in front of her.

Portia picked up the list of names. “Remember darling, picking the right business partner is just as important as picking the right deal.”

About a week later Penelope came rushing into the house dragging behind her a boy about two years older than her. “Mama! I have a new business partner!” Penelope told her proudly.

“How wonderful darling, you must tell me. But first, who is that young man behind you?” Portia asked.

The boy, who could be no older than ten, blushed, and ducked his head. Honestly Portia was just surprised to Penelope dragging him around. She’s still so shy around new people.

“Hello, I’m Phillip Crane,” the boy said, barely above a whisper.

Of all the people her daughter could befriend in Gloucestershire she had chosen one of the Bridgerton villains. Sir Phillip Crane was the main villain of the fifth book. After the events of book four Eloise Bridgerton is sent out to the countryside to visit her cousin Marina to help her come to terms of her former best friend psychologically terrorizing the ton. Uknown to either of them, Marina’s husband had been driven insane years ago by his father’s abuse, and now uses poison to make sure no one ever gets as mad as the former Sir Crane ever did again.

The young boy in front of her now though, the shy thing that wouldn’t look her in the eyes was not that man yet. Maybe she could help him too.

“Would you like some tea Phillip?”

As it turns out the two met in the meadow that Penelope likes to collect flowers from. Phillip had ran there to escape his drunk father and just so happened to bump into Penelope. Both their shy natures took over at first, until Phillip couldn’t bare the silence anymore and picked up one of the flowers Penelope dropped, spouting off every fact he knew about it.

“Phillip knows a lot about flowers Mama!” Penelope said excited. “He can help me make good flower choices!”

Portia smiled at the blossoming friendship.

Later on the new friends were playing in the library, and Portia was feeding Felicity.

“Lady Featherington, a Sir Crane is here,” Mrs. Varley said, notes of disgust in her voice.

“I will see him in the drawing room,” Portia said. “Thank you, Mrs. Varley.”

Portia debated putting Felicity down, but then decided she rather see that man squirm. And squirm he did.

The current Sir Crane couldn’t look Portia in the eye, though she wonders if would have been able to at all with how drunk he was. “You wish to what?”

“Take Phillip in as my ward. If the rumors are true, you do not wish to raise him. You can focus on his older brother to become the next Sir Crane.”

“And why would you want the brat?” Sir Crane hiccupped.

Portia gave a lazy shrug. “I’m a businesswoman, I like to invest.”

Penelope is twelve when she drags another new villainous business partner into the house. This one helping with good choices when it comes to art. Her name is Sophie Beckett, she is currently sixteen and she is the villain of the third book. Born as an illegitimate daughter of a lord, her stepmother had forced her into a life of poverty. Sophie found she much rather live a life of thievery. This Sophie has currently only stolen one ring that she offers to Portia in exchange for a job.

Portia gains another ward.

A year after taking Sophie in Portia makes a new business partner of her own.

It was a lazy morning for the Featherington household. Phillip and Penelope were teaching six-year-old Felicity to read. Her youngest sat between the two as they go over the words in the book. Sophie sits across from them working on her needlework. Prudence and Phillipa were laughing as they practiced one of their dances.

Portia was going over her correspondences when a thought hit her. She clapped her hands. “Children!”

All of them looked up.

“Today during tea we will have some guests joining us.”

“Who is to join us, Aunt Portia?” Sophie asked.

“Lady Sheffield and her two daughters. She’s recently moved to Somerset and would like some help with possible business connections.”

To the family’s surprise a Lady Mary Sharma and her two daughters had arrived for tea. The family of three had recently moved to Somerset from India after the death of Lady Sharma’s husband. Mary had thought it would be the best move since while Kate was technically out in society the family needed to gather the necessary funds to have a chance at a London season or two for when both her and when Edwina is of age. “Sadly, not everything can be new at the moment,” Mary said. “The seal I currently use still has my maiden name on it.”

Portia nods in understanding. It had taken her years to finally get her finances in proper order after her deceased husband almost sent them into debt. “And I will gladly help you where I can.”

The two women spent going over some of the best choices for Mary to invest. Once in a while one of Portia’s brood would call out a suggestion. Kate had alternated from between the two groups. Portia glanced up at her as she came to back over.

Kate Sharma, the villain of the second book. Of all the villains Kate was deemed one of the most dangerous right next to Penelope. The main difference being that Penelope played the long game, while Kate caused as much destruction as she could in the shortest amount of time possible. Spurned by a father who could never see her more than an extension of his dead wife, and always compared lesser to her half-sister, Kate grew up into a cold woman with a temper.

The young lady that stood before her now though, was not cold, and appeared to having a loving relationship with her stepmother and sister. Portia wasn’t sure what started the changes already for her but keeping an eye one things couldn’t hurt right? After all she did like Mary and their children seemed to get along well.

“Are you sure you don’t mind us staying with you during the season?” Mary asked.

“It’s no problem at all,” Portia said. “Rent in London is expensive, and you’ll be able to bring the girls for more than one season this way.”

While she may have made trips on her own for business, this was the first time since she left that Portia was bringing her whole family to London. Prudence and Sophie are 18 now and it is time for them to make their debut.

Kate was also being brought to London earlier. Instead of 1814 where her sister debuted with her, Kate was taking this step by herself. Portia wonders how this change will affect things. She hopes it means the start to a few different endings than the ones in the books.

Currently Portia, Mary, and their debutante daughters were at Lady Danbury’s opening ball. The two mamas watched their daughters. Prudence looked to be the only one excited to be there. Sophie was hiding behind the two girls, and Kate was acting more like a chaperone than a debutante.

“Oh Kate,” Mary sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Portia chuckled. “Imagine how she’ll be once Edwina debuts.”

Mary glared at Portia. “Please do not put that thought into my head right now.”

Portia was about to laugh again when she felt a pair of eyes on her.

“Lady Featherington.”

Oh lovely, Portia was wondering how long it was going to be before she ran into her. Portia had to stop herself from rolling her eyes before turning around. She smiled her business smile. “Lady Bridgerton, how wonderful to see you again.”

The Dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton was more or less a rival to Portia, a sort of frenemy. Portia wasn’t quite sure how it started, though she feels like it was probably her fault, but there has been this tension between them for years. Even in her old life you could feel the tension through the pages, but that had been when Portia Featherington was Violet Bridgerton’s villainess foil. Portia isn’t sure what’s fueling it now, especially since Portia now had the habit of trying to avoid any interaction with the Bridgertons. If they’re never around one another then she and her family won’t be in danger from the book endings.

“I hear you are back in London with your whole family this time,” Violet said. Her tone was overly polite, as if she wanted to say something else but social rules demanded she not.

Portia responded in that same overly polite tone. “Just for the season, my two oldest have recently debuted this year, and I thought getting the others used to London before their own seasons would be wise. Your oldest daughter debuted this year as well, correct?”

Violet nodded. “Yes. Daphne is very excited.”

Before either could say more one of the younger lords walked by, and Violet’s eyes narrowed in on her prey. Making her excuses the dowager viscountess snatches her daughter away from her three brothers to go make an introduction.

Mary wrapped her arm in Portia’s. “I did not know if you two were to duel or kiss.”

“Mary!” Portia exclaimed.

Mary laughed. “Can you blame me for thinking so? I felt as if I had walked in on newlyweds whose foreplay was fighting.”

Portia swatted the arm that was connected to her’s. “That is probably my fault. I’ve told you before I was not the nicest lady before moving to the countryside.”

Mary nodded. “So, you have told me.”

Three years later Portia finds herself smiling as she watched the now 21 years old Phillip and 19 years old Penelope dancing. Ugh these children are growing up so fast. Prudence and Phillipa have already married in their 3rd and 2nd seasons respectively. Sophie still chooses to stick closer to the now on the shelf Kate than dance with any gentleman. Which was fine by Portia, she understood Sophie’s fear of being at the financial mercy of someone else. If that means Sophie chooses not to marry and focus on creating images for scientific books than she was more than welcome to. Phillip and Penelope had just recently returned. Phillip had wanted to study different plants on a Grand Tour for his last year at university and offered to take Penelope with him. It would put Penelope a year behind in debuting but honestly Portia did find it be a better opportunity for her daughter and allowed. She probably should have sent a chaperone with but they have known each other for over a decade. And if they came and have decided to marry Portia would not be against it.

That third daughter of her’s definitely gave her a heart attack though. Penelope was 17 when she was supposed to start writing Lady Whistledown. Portia had been on the lookout all season, but it seemed her daughter had not taken an interest. Well until about halfway through the season that is.

Portia had just come downstairs for breakfast where she already found Mary reading over a couple pamphlets.

“What are you reading Mary?” Portia asked as she sat down.

“There is a new author this year,” Mary said. “A Lady Whistledown-”

Portia chocked on her tea. “What!” She thought she had avoided this! Her Penelope was not like the Penelope from the books! She was loved, happy, and a confident young lady. She was not as alone as she was in the books. How could she turn to gossip writing? Portia scrambled to grab one of the pamphlets.

“Oh that is the second story,” Mary said. She reached for another pamphlet and then handed it to Portia. “This is the one you want to start with.”

Turns out the pamphlets all contain a short story with a larger story forming in the background of each pamphlet. All of them focusing on finding love, some of them adding a bit of scandal. Oh, there was still a little bit of Ton gossip snuck in here and there, but if one was not looking for it then they would miss it. Honestly it was such a creatve idea, and Portia felt so proud of her daughter.

“I say, what are those Bridgerton boys doing?” Mary questioned, pulling Portia out of her memories.

Portia narrowed her eyes. The three eldest Bridgertons, Anthony, Benedict, and Colin, were all making their way across the ballroom towards the corner she last saw Phillip and Penelope head towards after their dance, meaning the others are there as well.

Well, she had a guess what Anthony was about to do. Though she may be against it now Anthony did marry Edwina in the books. Portia is guessing that this event will still hold true, even if it was delayed by Edwina wanting to delay her debut a year so her family could gather more money for two daughters going to balls instead of one.

That does not explain the other two brothers though. They had actually just bypassed the women who would have been their wives in the books. Maybe they are backing up their older brother?

What. The. HELL?!

Someone must have spiked that punch because there is no way what Portia just saw was true. But glancing at Mary’s face did not give Portia any hope with that concept.

Did the Bridgertons ABC just ask the villainesses of their books to dance with them? Then they signed their cards twice?!

Portia locked eyes with Violet from across the ballroom, the later smirked and winked at her.

Alright then, game fucking on.

#nothing like the trauma of birth to awaken your memories from your past life #this got away from me #it's also a little jumpy but that means i can add scenes in different areas later #how did I go from portia redeeming herself and her daughters to helping redeem all the spouses?#portia is collecting all the 'villainous' children #i may have stumbled into portia x violet hole again #can anyone say portia x violet enemies to lovers?#still debating how i'll fit simon and michael into this #villianess isekai au #bridgerton #portia featherington #villian spouses #penelope featherington #phillip crane #sophie beckett #kate sheffield #kate sharma

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