my downton lols

The first time I saw it I actually didn’t realise the Zegnautus Keep part of the alternate ending was supposed to be immediately after Ignis decides to ‘play along’ and not the same timeline until I saw people in the tags saying they were sad about how it means episode Prompto didn’t happen.

I will say, now I’ve watched it again and read theories I see it’s probably supposed to be right after and the ‘Ravus helped’ part is likely him getting the other bros to Gralea but come under the cut with me for a ramble about my first impressions.

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All Kinds of Perfect, a downton abbey fanfic | FanFiction

FINALLY! I am so, so, SO sorry for the delay @anyvelez but Merry Christmas! ( @batesessecretservice )

Seriously, could not be more sorry for how long it has taken me to do my Secret Santa bit. Life is…madness. And I’m so rusty writing-wise but I ended up quite enjoying myself with this one and it ran away with me.

Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and that 2018 brings you and the rest of you lovely Banna lot everything you hope for and more.


(PS thank you @me-and-mister-bates. You are a lifesaver and a wonderful human being).

Unbearable | Sarah O'Brien | 500 words

For many years at night, Sarah O'Brien slept soundly. Evening arrived a welcome ally, sealing her off from the jurisdictions of Her Ladyship and Mrs. Hughes. Sleep carried her further. A woman had room to breathe, and dreams to entertain. But there was a fateful event, years ago, that changed that. Sleep itself became an enemy on a long list of enemies. Night became well acquainted with the glowing eye of her cigarette.

Think of Scotland, she told herself, rolling onto cooler sheets. The trip was a bright spot in recent months, forgotten by everyone else but her due to the gloom cast by Matthew Crawley’s death and his child’s timely arrival. She imagined she could hear the baby’s cry in the distance, even now. He would be tucked away with Nanny, of course. Safe. She’d clapped eyes on him herself when she’d contrived to deliver Nanny’s lunch and have a look. She’d looked her fill. Looked until she could look no longer. Little male heir, swaddled in white. Breathing, crying, living.

She was not the only one unexpectedly volunteering to deliver trays.

“Has a meal been brought up to Mr. Barrow?” Jimmy asked earlier that day, breaking the solemn stillness of the Servants’ Hall. Mrs. Hughes shook her head.

“Thank you, James.” She sounded glad for the volunteer. Sarah was not so quick to let it rest.

“What’s it to you?” she demanded. “Last I recall you’d hardly care if he starved.” Jimmy was supposed to hate Thomas, but he didn’t look like a hating man when he was fixing Thomas’ tea the way he liked. Something had fundamentally shifted while she was in Scotland. Through the gloom, nobody else noticed this, but Sarah noticed everything.

“Only trying to be helpful,” he said, and fled with a tray.

She watched him go. 

“He might be chucking the food,” she suggested. “To spite Mr. Barrow. I wouldn’t trust him.”

It was a made-up accusation, but seeing this new worry arrive in Mrs. Hughes’ eyes at least allowed Sarah an inch of satisfaction, however short-lived. Satisfaction was always short-lived and on this night, like every other, she was denied the satisfaction of sleep and rose from bed, pushing beatings and births and funerals out of mind.

No use lying in bed, dwelling.

Draped over the chair was Her Ladyship’s unmended scarf, flower patterns wilting in slanted moonlight. Sarah tossed a blanket over it to protect it from cigarette smoke. Think of Scotland. Of India. Of Lady Flintshire’s interested looks. Yes, these were the thoughts that would let her rest. Imagine it: with Lady Flintshire, life could be different. She could leave this place behind, this place that had become so unbearable. This place where Thomas could have forgiveness and Sarah could have none.

She’d already dropped her hints to Lady Flintshire. It was only a matter of time before she had an answer.

Her cigarette stared back at her. The windows rattled. The winds blew south.