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holybatgirlz · 3 months

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but only far from home | Accidents, 1836 (Part I)

read here on ao3

Words: 6.3

Note: it should be noted this is a part of my benophie babies one-shot collection fic I have on Ao3. This took forever to complete, and I kept going back and forth about putting this idea with this fic collection or putting it as a new work.

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“Charles, it’s going to be alright.”

“Miles, if you say that one more time I will strike you,” Charles grounded out at his cousin while the carriage they sat in jostled and jerked about on the uneven country road.

But Miles took no offense. He only sighed. “I’m just trying to help.”

The knot of guilt in Charles’ stomach only tightened.

“I know,” he replied, wincing at how his tone was harsher than he wanted. He tried to take a deep breath, to calm his nerves. Relax.

How could he relax? When the worst that could happen was about to befall him and his family. Could already have while he was traveling.

Gritting his teeth. “I just–”

I have to get home. Before it’s too late.

The words stuttered in his throat, clawing at his vocal cords in an effort to silence him. His breathing hitched, choking him. His throat was swelling up. His heart started racing as he began to panic over all that had been left unsaid. Every little mistake he’d made before leaving for Cambridge. It was all too much.

“Just breathe, alright?” Miles told him gently. “We’ll be there soon.”

Charles took another deep breath. They would. Thank God.

My Cottage. They were on route back to Wiltshire, as quickly as they could. Charles returned from morning classes to find Mr. Crabtree, the closest person he had to a grandfather, standing outside his lodgings. The older man had a concerned and serious look, which was not normal for the usually jovial groundskeeper, that had put Charles immediately on edge. Something was wrong. Something had happened.

There was an accident. Your father. They don’t know how bad it is–

He’d come to take him home, it was faster than sending another letter, like the ones sent to London and Scotland. To his Uncle Anthony, who could get Alexander and William from school, and to his grandmother who was visiting his aunt up north. But it would still take them a day or two before they arrived, his grandmother longer. Being at Cambridge, Charles had been the closest to home and Miles, who was in his second to last year at the university, had come with him when he’d found him panicking outside the dorms, Mr. Crabtree desperately trying to keep him from driving the carriage home himself.

His knee bounced up and down as the carriage continued its path into Wiltshire. A nervous habit he’d picked up from his father that he did whenever he was stressed. The ‘what ifs’ had taken over, controlling every thought he had. What if they were too late? What if he never got to apologize? What if he hadn’t been so stupid before he left? What if he’d just apologized? He couldn’t focus on anything except the guilt chewing on his insides.

You’re an arrogant ass who thinks he knows what's best for me. I hate you.

What the hell was wrong with him? The last conversation they’d had was an argument. The last thing he’d said to his father was to bugger off out of his life. That he was a grown man now and he didn’t need his father coming to his rescue. Didn’t need his father making decisions for him.

That he wished he would just die.

And over a girl. He had a vitriol fight with his father over a stupid girl the old man hadn’t approved of. A girl who Charles now knew didn’t even love him. Had never loved him. Had only been using him for her own selfish purposes. Something his father had warned him about, had been trying to warn him about when their fight had started.

Why had he been so stupid?

Passing by a field of apple trees, Charles recognized where they were. Realizing that they were close to home only increased his desperation to get there quicker.

He practically flew out of the carriage when it pulled up in front of the door. Miles hadn’t even had the chance to move from his seat. Mr. Crabtree was still climbing down from the driver’s box as Charles barreled into the foyer of his family home, running over the pebbled path and to the front door as fast as he could.

And straight into chaos.

He found the home filled with family members, the Cranes and Woodsons had already arrived due to proximity. His Uncle Hugh and Uncle Philip were down the hall in front of him, whispering to another man Charles recognized as the local physician, Dr. Wilkes. What they were saying, he couldn’t hear over the chatter going on around him. Too many voices were speaking at once.

Mrs. Crabtree was who he spotted next. He caught her moving around upstairs with one of the maids, carrying white sheet Charles saw had red stains on them as she ordered the servants about.

He quickly swallowed the bile he felt coming up his throat. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Glancing around the doorways of the rooms, he finally spotted someone from his immediate family.

Violet, his baby sister, was sitting quietly on the settee in the front parlor, clutching her old, stuffed, rabbit teddy on her lap and sniffling, eyes rimmed red and dried up streaks of tears on her cheeks. Their older cousin Amanda had an arm wrapped around her, rubbing her shoulder and whispering to her, while his fourteen-year-old cousin Sophia clutched her small wrist, trying to assist in comforting his sister even though he could see she was shaking. Georgiana and little Penelope were sitting on the opposite settee, watching in quiet discomfort what was transpiring in front of them, his usually chatty cousins suddenly at a loss for words. And Georgette and John were sitting on the floor, keeping the toddlers Fredrick and Minty distracted. His younger cousins seemed unaware of the chaos going on around them as they quietly played.

“Charles?” he looked over and saw his Aunt Eloise come towards him.

“Auntie El,” he replied, quickly being embraced by his aunt in a hug.

His aunt gave him a tight desperate squeeze. “How are you?”

“I-I’m alright,” Charles answered hastily. “I-Where’s father? What happened?”

“There was an accident,” Eloise explained, shakily, beginning to tell him more than what Mr. Crabtree had although she seemed to look conflicted. “Your father was tending to one of the oak trees out back when one of the branches collapsed. He must have hit his head on the way down. The physician says his leg was crushed. Violet was with him and–”

“Violet saw it? I…What the hell was he even doing up there?” Charles asked in disbelief.

His question only set something off in Violet, who immediately burst into tears behind him, leaning forward and covering her face with her hands as she began wailing again. Amanda gently shushed her, pulling her closer and rubbing her hand up and down Violet’s arm, whispering to her that she was alright. That everything was alright. And Sophia began rubbing her back, whispering similar words as she tried to help Amanda calm his sister down.

Eloise put her hand on his arm, gently leading him out of the room.

“One of the kittens got up there,” she whispered. “Lettie said it had gotten stuck and your father went up to rescue it.”

Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, understanding immediately what had happened. Why it had happened.

Their barn cat, that lived out in the stables and had been nicknamed Beezelbub or Bee by Charles and his brothers (due to the cat's petulance for violence) had gotten pregnant by a local stray and given birth to five little kittens before he’d left for Cambridge. Kittens his sister had immediately fallen in love with and had decided to assist Bee in raising, much to the cat’s begrudging acceptance. Charles knew his sister would have been distressed if something had happened to one of them.

But his father shouldn’t have gone up to handle it, and not without help. If he was right about the tree his aunt was speaking about, the old twisted oak that barely got any leaves during the spring, his father should have never even dared go near it.

“That tree was old. Uncle Philip said the damn thing was rotted inside,” Charles told her, his nails digging into his palms. “He was supposed to have it cut down-”

“I know. I know,” Eloise gently cut him off. “But there is nothing we can do about it now.”

“Where’s mother?” he asked, realizing he had yet to spot her in the crowd of relatives. He had to find her. Had to find out if she was alright.

“She’s upstairs with your father,” his aunt answered.

With that knowledge, Charles immediately moved towards the stairs but Eloise grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, stopping him.

“Before you go up there, Charles. I want you to know, your father told me what happened between you two. Before you left.”

He swallowed, tensing, preparing for the judgment. He knew his father and aunt had always had a close relationship, and he expected her to side with her brother, to scold him for arguing with him, disobeying him, for saying what he said.

“It’s not your fault. None of this is,” his aunt said instead, giving his arm a squeeze. “We all say stupid things when we’re upset. No matter how this ends – and I pray this does not end horribly – don’t let yourself be haunted by it, alright?”

Charles dug his nails deeper into his palms, with enough force he was certain he’d break skin, but it was the only thing stopping him from breakdown right then and there. The words got lost in his throat again. All he could do was nod shakily to his Aunt Eloise, before fleeing upstairs to find his mother.

But he slowed down the closer he got to his parents room. The door was opened, light shining out into the hallway as Charles crept closer and closer towards it. He needed to check on his mother, but part of him did not want to go into that room. His father was in there as well and Charles couldn’t deny the fear that came over him, of seeing his father, in whatever state he was in.

His mother was the first one he saw, as he stopped in the doorway. Her back was turned to him, and she was sitting next to the bed in a chair leaning forward, her hand clutching one of her father’s and a handkerchief held tightly in the other. She was rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

And his father was a sight. Paler than he remembered his mother being after she had Violet, when he snuck into his parents’ room one night to check on her while everyone slept. She’d looked like she was disappearing, fading away from sight. Her skin had taken a gray hue, beads of sweat rolling down as she’d fought off a fever that had almost taken her, while her honey golden curls were dull and flat. Her breaths coming out in short, pained puffs as if her lungs refused to take air. It had terrified Charles as a child, seeing his mother like that. Watching her groan in pain, with death itself hovering over her form.

But his father somehow looked worse.

The blankets weren’t covering one of his legs. He saw the exposed leg was wrapped tightly in bandages and pieces of cloth; wooden sticks placed around to keep the limb straight so it could heal properly. More bandages covered his head, a thick folded square of cloth against the area he assumed was where his father struck his head.

He looked halfway into a grave. Unmoving and eyes closed, he might as well have been laying in a coffin. Looking like his mother had all those years ago. The image of her had haunted him at times when he’d been growing and now he could only add this sight to it.

Charles suddenly felt like he was seven again. A terrified little boy who wanted his mother.

“Mama?” he asked quietly as he gripped the wood doorframe, trying to keep himself standing.

He didn’t think she’d hear him, his voice had barely been over a whisper, but his mother whipped around almost immediately, spotting him standing in the doorway. She blinked in surprise.

“Charles, hi,” she said softly, voice tired and horse. She got up quickly, moving slowly towards him.

He stepped towards her, seeking to give comfort but to also receive it, wrapping his arms around her as she did the same to him, smelling the lavender and vanilla soap his mother always used. The smell of home and comfort, of safety, as his mother clutched him tightly.

She was almost a foot shorter than him now, Charles had shot up like a beanstalk right before he finished at Westminster, as tall as his father now, and now he could rest his chin on her head, keeping her tucked against him protectively.

“Are you alright, darling?” she asked as she pulled away, giving him a once over.

“I’m fine,” he quickly assured her. “How’s father?”

His mother turned to look at their father, still laying on the bed, unconscious. “The doctor says we won’t know how bad it is until he wakes,” she told him with a disheartened sigh.

“How are you?” he asked next, noticing the blonde strands that had come loose from her pinned bun and the redness around her eyes.

“Oh, I’m alright,” she lied, forcing a smile as she patted his arm. “No need to worry about me.”

She stepped away from him, drifting slowly back to his father’s side and took her seat again, taking his father’s limp hand in hers once more, clutching it tightly. But his father remained undisturbed. His chest continued rising and falling. The only sign Charles had that the man was still alive.

“Alexander and William should be here soon,” he told her, not knowing what else to say. His mother hummed in understanding back to him, but her eyes never left his father. “Amanda and Sophia are keeping an eye on Lettie right now.”

She sighed. “Oh, Lettie,” she practically whispered as she moved to stand again. “I need to go speak with your sister. I need to check on her.”

Charles blocked her quickly, gently grasping her arms as he moved her back into the chair. “I’ll take care of that. Do you need anything? Food? Water? I can have Mrs. Crabtree prepare some tea? Do you want me to grab your shawl? You're knitting?”

His mother moved a hand to grasp his arms, giving it a squeeze. “You’re far too good to me,” she teased lovingly.

“Because you deserve only the best,” he told her.

She gave him another sad smile. Her eyes were shining with tears.

Then she sighed. “Charles, darling, we need to–”

Charles stepped away from her, before he could even tell himself not to. She looked like she wanted to have that conversation with him. The conversation he’d never thought he’d have, but he knew his mother well enough that even in her state she needed to talk about what would come next now. Needed to prepare him – prepare herself – for what might come.

For what she thought was coming.

But Charles didn’t want to have that conversation. He couldn’t.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her quickly.

“Charles, wait. We need to–” she started.

“Won’t be a minute,” he lied, before fleeing the room. His heart beating a panicked rhythm into his sternum.

He’d walked out of this house months ago, days after his blow up with his father, thinking he was a man. Believing himself ready for the world and all it had to offer, that he didn’t need to rely on his parents anymore. Didn’t need their guidance and aid. That he could take care of himself. But his father was right. He was still too green. Too arrogant. Cambridge had already told him that but now–

You think you can run a house? Take care of a family and manage income? You’re a boy. You’re not a man. Never had any hardship thrown at you the way your mother and I have. We both made sure you never would!

Benedict, please. Stop. Both of you, just stop!

What the fuck would you even know anyway!? You weren’t the heir father, just the second born with nothing to prove and nothing to do. Dropping out of the Royal Academy must have been so easy when you’ve got no expectations hanging over your head! No need to make a name for yourself when your family already did it for you.

Charles!

You think my life wasn’t impacted when my father died? You think things didn’t change for me because I wasn’t first in line like your uncle? That I didn’t have to grow up and cast aside my own dreams and desires for the sake of my family? You have no idea what that was like for me. No idea!

Gripping the banister, Charles took a deep breath, trying to shake the memory.

You’re an arrogant ass who thinks he knows what’s best for me. I hate you.

I hate you.

I hate–

“Charles? Is everything alright?” his Aunt Posy called up, snapping him out of his spiral. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him from where he was at the banister. Her hazel eyes wide with sympathy and concern.

No. No, he was not alright.

But he couldn’t break. Not now. Not ever.

It took him a moment to respond, swallowing down his fears before he could shakily answer back. “I’m fine, Aunt Posy. I…I’ll be down in a moment.”

—

It still took him a few minutes to compose himself before Charles forced himself back downstairs, taking each step one at a time. And the moment he was at the bottom, he was ushered into the kitchen by Mrs. Crabtree, forced to sit at the table and eat some of the stew she’d prepared. The old housekeeper fussed over him, talking about how he needed to keep his strength up and not be running around on an empty stomach. Wouldn’t do anyone any good if he got himself ill.

But Charles’ stomach was nothing but a tight knot of guilt. His appetite nonexistent as he sat at the table, pushing a spoon around the bowl. He’d been able to swallow a few spoonful’s before the nausea became too much for him to continue eating.

“Where’s Lettie?” he asked, as he rose from the table.

“She went outside to get some air,” his Aunt Posy told him gently as she helped Mrs. Crabtree with cleaning the dishes.

Without another word, Charles stepped out of the room and headed out towards the back door. It was open and he could see Violet a short distance away, sitting on one of the two swings their father had tied to the large oak trees close to the house. A matching set to the aged pair at the family home in London, of which one of the ropes had finally snapped and his uncle had yet to replace, leaving just the one hanging there now (much to his father’s and aunt’s annoyance).

Violet sat quietly, with the tips of her shoes pressing into the grass as she pushed herself sadly back and forth, head hanging forward as clutched the ropes and she stared quietly at the ground in front of her.

“Hey, cabbage,” he said gently as he stepped closer to the swing. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” Violet whispered, not looking up at him.

The rotted tree was ahead of them, right at the edge of the property, where it had always been, leading away from the small lake behind their house and to the wooded area that fenced the property. The tree had practically splintered apart from the collapse, as if it had been struck by lightning. The trunk brutally ripped open and exposed. The large branch his father must have been on when it collapsed was still ominously laying where it had landed on the ground. Mocking him.

And all he wanted to go was over and kick the damn thing until it was nothing but splinters, but he knew his sister was more important.

Even though he didn’t know what to say to her.

He slowly sat on the available swing. “Alexander and William should hopefully be here in the morning,” he said, absently. “I doubt Uncle Anthony and Aunt Kate will make any stops. They’ll probably try to come here straight away.”

Violet only hummed back her response, continuing her slow swings back and forth.

“Are you alright, Lettie?” he asked, hesitantly. “You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to but–”

“Why did you tell Papa you hated him?” Violet snapped at him suddenly.

Charles froze in surprise. “What?”

The arrow between his sister’s brows deepened as she glowered at him. She was furious at him, but her eyes were red rimmed and beginning to build with water once more.

“You said you hated him,” she repeated, voice cracking as she spoke. “Before you left. You said you hated him and wanted him dead. Why would you say that to him?”

You’re a fucking bastard of a father. I wish you would just die.

Charles was taken aback by his sister’s sudden anger, the furious accusatory tone she shot towards him. He’d thought it had only been him and his parents in the house that day. Violet had been an hour away at Romney Hall with William, since his parents had wanted to approach the subject with him privately.

But Alexander had been home that day, outside sketching where he’d stayed as the argument escalated. And given the row Charles had had with his father had turned into a shouting match, his brother had most likely heard all of it. Meaning his siblings had found in the aftermath, either directly from Alexander or from something as simple as overhearing their parents.

“I-I-” Charles stuttered, unsure what to say.

She was on him suddenly. Having left from the swing at his hesitation, Violet jumped up and gave him a harsh shove. She might have been half his size and only twelve, barely moving him, just enough for him to swing a few centimeters, but the force of the shove told him she was furious.

“Why would you say that?” she shouted in frustration, pushing at him again. Then again.

“Violet–” he started, reaching to stop her.

This time she whacked him, smacking her open palm against his shoulder. Charles was taken aback by her action, as was Violet, who had never gotten violent towards him before. She seemed surprised momentarily by what she’d done but had also realized it made her feel better.

So, she whacked him on the shoulder again.

“Why?” she was crying now. “Why would you be so cruel?”

He grabbed her wrists, and she grew even angrier, fighting against his grip as she yelled at him. But Charles held on, knowing he had to help his sister regardless of how painful her words were. Like little daggers into his already bleeding heart, but she was in just as much pain as he was, and he wouldn’t allow that to stop him from comforting her.

“Come here,” he told her, dragging her closer.

“No!” Violet shouted back, still struggling.

But Charles had no difficulty pulling her closer, wrapping his arms around her small frame and holding her close. Violet struggled against him, wriggling aggressively in his grasp, but slowly, very slowly, she began to relax and stop fighting him.

Keeping her tightly held in his grip, hugging her, Charles let her cry into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Lettie.”

“Why would you?” she cried, voice muffled and weak. “I don’t want him to die. I don’t want Papa to die.”

“I know, shh,” he told her, rubbing her back. “I’m sorry, Lettie. I'm sorry.”

She wasn’t fighting him anymore. Instead, clutching his jacket as she stood between his legs, leaning against while he held her tightly. Every cry, every weak, shaky breath, only sent a ripple of agony through him, that he only continued to suppress.

This was a nightmare. A nightmare he was praying he could just wake from.

—

There had been the briefest moment of hope that evening, after they’d all gone to sleep, that the nightmare would end. Without tragedy.

He’d woken, Charles’ father, for the briefest of moments. His uncle Phillip had been tending to him while the others slept, remaining by his vigil, when his father had suddenly jolted back to consciousness, confused and delirious, mumbling and moaning as he tried to move from the bed. He had no idea where he was or what had happened and while Phillip had tried to assist him, trying to get him to calm down so he could get Charles’ mother, his father had slipped back into unconsciousness in a matter of seconds.

There was nothing by the next morning. His father was still laying silently in the bed, eyes closed, body unmoving. They’d tried to rouse him but with no success.

And Dr. Wilkes had made it clear if he did not wake soon, to eat and drink, there would not be much any of them could do.

A dark cloud lingered over My Cottage, the mood somber and cold. No one knew what to say or do. No one spoke. And a literal dark cloud passed over outside too, as it had rained most of the day. Charles had spent most of the morning looking out over the fields behind their home as the rain pelted the windows. He confined himself to the library or his room, trying to stay away from his mother. Trying to avoid having that conversation.

And Lettie no longer seemed to be blaming him. She had yet to apologize for it though. Instead, she’d remained by his side, as if stuck to his hip. Her arms wrapped around him like she’d been glued to him, but Charles didn't mind. They kept each other company, even if they barely said anything.

His uncle Anthony and aunt Kate arrived with his younger cousins and brothers after lunch. And upon his arrival, his uncle immediately entered his mother’s study, with Philip, without saying a word of greeting to the rest of them. A severe expression on his face as he disappeared into the office. Both began pouring over the ledgers, rental agreements, and accounts, checking over the copy of the will kept in the house.

Preparing for the worst.

That evening, Anthony had taken him into the office. His mother was still upstairs, Eloise and Posy had been taking turns checking on her. With Kate now here helping as well, the three rotated from being by his mother’s side to watching the children and back again to his mother. But Hugh was taking his cousins back home, planning to return the next morning, and Amanda had taken her siblings back to Romney Hall, with Phillip planning to follow later that night.

“I know your mother has been keeping you up to date on all these matters,” Anthony told him as they sat in the office. Alexander was present as well, sitting in a chair next to Charles as their uncle stood before them in front of the desk, tense and terrified as he continued. “Frankly, she’s done a better job with handling all of these accounts than I ever had with my own.”

Charles couldn't help the slight smile that formed over the pride he felt towards his mother, but it dropped away quickly with what his uncle said next.

“There is nothing I can say that will make this easier, but if — and I say if — the worst befalls us in the next few days, I do not believe your mother will be in a position to handle these accounts for some time,” Anthony told him directly, swallowing down his own anxieties and fears as he spoke. “Your father and mother both stipulate in the will that if anything was to happen to them, I would handle My Cottage’s finances for the next few years. Something I’ve discussed with them before. And if something happens to your father I will handle these matters for the time being, with your mother, until you finish at Cambridge.”

Charles nodded.

Then, his uncle sighed. “Alexander, do you mind stepping out? I need to speak with your brother about something. Privately.”

Alexander nodded, looking rather unsure of it though, but saying nothing as he rose from his chair and left the room. Their uncle waited for him to close the door, taking a few additional seconds before he spoke.

“I’ve heard you and your father fought recently?” he finally remarked, a stern edge in his tone. His dark eyes bearing down on him.

Charles sighed. “Yes. We did.”

His uncle hummed. “About a woman?”

“Grace Beauchamp. She’s Baron Beauchamp’s daughter. She and I…” Charles took a deep breath. “We had a short courtship before I left. I…I planned to ask her to marry me, but my parents talked me out of it.”

“Alexander informed me your father did not approve of her,” Anthony commented, and Charles nodded. “He also said some curt words were exchanged between you two before you left.”

A muscle in his jaw tightened as Charles clenched his teeth together.

You don’t know a damn thing about the world, you immature, little git.

And you’re a fucking bastard of a father. I wish you would just die.

“Yes,” he replied, through gritted teeth.

“And this Miss Beauchamp? I take it she has since moved on? Quite quickly from what I’ve heard,” Anthony returned.

Married to a lord’s son. From what Lettie had told him in the letter she’d sent a month after he’d left for Cambridge. It was when Charles finally realized he’d been played. That she’d been stringing him along as a backup if her courtship with Gordon Hammershine didn’t work out. Not just as a backup, but to make Hammershine jealous too.

After he’d asked her to wait it out while he'd figure something out. While he got his parents to accept the match. He hadn’t even been gone long before the engagement was announced. The banns had been read and Grace was long gone now. Off on her honeymoon in Bath apparently before she and her new husband moved to London.

He should have known it would fail. If he’d asked her to marry him the last time he saw her, she would have said no.

And the signs had been there. The entire time.

Lettie had been the first to make her concerns known, telling him she thought Grace was cruel and insincere, that she did not like her. Her reasoning for her dislike being that she'd once seen Grace whack one of Farmer Joseph’s dogs after it had excitedly run into her path, but Charles dismissed it as his sister over exaggerating what she’d seen and heard.

While unsure at first about Charles’ relationship with Grace, Alexander hadn’t kept his feelings to himself after a local picnic they’d attended at the start of the summer, before Grace had left for the social season in London. He wouldn’t tell Charles what had been said, but he’d been upset about remarks Grace had apparently made about their mother to some of her friends. If he hadn’t been so lovestruck, Charles probably would have ended it there and then, but his brother could be a mummy’s boy at times. Fiercely protective of their mother, especially after both he and Charles had been made aware of the truth regarding their maternal grandparents, their true identities. Alexander disliked anyone who did not treat their mother with the respect he believed she deserved, and he could make assumptions too quickly about others because of it.

But when Charles looked back on it, Grace had made remarks about his mother to him as well. Pointed ones. Ones that had always irked him a way, made him feel like he was constantly defending his mother, no matter how many times Grace said she was only joking or that he’d taken her words out of turn.

She was once a maid? Well, she must have been incredibly lucky your father noticed her then.

Charles, I know your mother and father are happy. Your mother’s looks and charm play quite a role in that, I’m sure.

She’s quite the parvenu. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I meant it as a compliment. It’s quite impressive her jump up in society. Don’t you think?

Even William hadn’t liked her. And if the fourteen-year-old, laid back, devil-may-care William Bridgerton did not like someone, that was a sign something was wrong.

And Charles was certain Alexander had been the reason his father had gone against the match in the end. But his father had not liked the Beauchamps to begin with.

With four out of five of his relatives being against the match, his mother had done quite a good job at staying neutral for the majority of his courtship with Grace, trying to be supportive and telling him she would stand by him regardless of the decision he made. But after the fight with his father, she’d finally made her true opinion. The night before he left.

I know you love her, darling, but I do not believe she loves you the way you do her. Nor do I think you are your true self when you’re with her. A relationship built with love also needs honesty and trust, and while change always occurs with time, you should be changing for the better. Not because you have to appease someone.

She’d been the ones to sow the seeds of doubt in him. And Lettie’s letter had been the final nail in the coffin. Not that Grace had done anything to convince him to stay. She never wrote to him and had told him not to write to her lest they be caught. Said she’d wait for him as long as she could (which had been a week from what Lettie’s letter implied).

Charles had been heartbroken, but also ashamed. He felt like a fool and the realization that he had been wrong, that his father had been right, was tough to swallow.

“Yes. She did,” Charles admitted, tensely.

His uncle said nothing, only watched him with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the desk. While his face remained neutral and impassive, Charles knew his uncle was disappointed.

In him.

“There is no benefit in kicking a man when he’s already down,” his uncle told him. “I will assume you have since realized your errors.”

Charles nodded; jaw clenched tightly.

“I have,” he replied, keeping his eyes trained down.

Anthony looked as though he wanted to say something else, but no words came out. There was a sadness in his eyes now as he put his hand on Charles’ shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before telling them he had to go help Phillip with another matter, leaving Charles alone in the room.

It wasn’t for long though. Alexander slipped into the room after his uncle departed, taking a seat next to him.

“What do we do?” he hesitantly asked after a few moments. Charles looked towards him. “What are we supposed to do if father dies?”

“He’s not going to die,” Charles told him.

“It’s been two days now, Charlie,” Alexander retorted, his face serious but his eyes revealing his panic. “You just started at Cambridge. I still have two years left at Westminster and William’s got six more. Mother and Lettie shouldn’t be out here on their own if-”

“He’s not. Going. To die,” Charles repeated, harsher this time.

Alexander watched him, quietly, but Charles couldn’t look him in the eye right now, not without seeing their father’s eyes staring back at him.

“You don’t know that,” his brother whispered.

Charles stared up at the wedding portrait hanging behind the desk. The one his father’s friends had done for his parents after they married. Unknown to most, his mother had been pregnant with him at the time, his parents having convinced him quite quickly after their marriage, but the painter had hidden the growing bump. She sat with her hands on her lap in the portrait, wearing a pale sage green gown with daisies pinned in her hair, as their father stood directly behind her, his left hand rested on her shoulder, proudly showing off the wedding band on his ring finger. Both were smiling. Almost twenty years younger than they were now. Happy and content with no idea where their life would go after the painting was done.

No idea it might end this week.

God, she was so happy. His mother. After everything she’d endured in her life, she was finally happy. His father too.

And now she might become a widow.

And his father might lose his life.

And the rest of them, fatherless.

Why the fuck had he said all those things to his father?

He sighed, leaning back in his chair forlornly as he continued staring at the portrait. Defeated by this point.

“No,” he admitted softly with despair. “No, I don’t.”

#benophie #benophie babies #my fics.#bridgerton #taking the little benophie babies and hitting em with the angst fly swatter #benophie babies fic #Charles bridgerton #my fic.

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nathanrm · 2 years

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Alice returns to Wonderland

This idea has always been in my head ever since I started getting into the twst fandom and I just wanna talk about it, what if Alice returns to (twst) wonderland after being gone for many years?

For a bit of context though this Alice will be my own version, a mix of all types of Alice in wonderland content that I’ve seen over the years, my version will be male because 1.my blog is for male and enby readers 2. NRC is an all boys school 3. There are already a lot of female twst reader content to the point when I look up “twst x male reader” there still a shit ton of female reader content

(and yes I will keep Alices name the same despite making him a boy, I just prefer it that way, let’s just say Alice’s mom desperately wanted a girl but Alice was born a boy, so Alice’s dad let his wife let her name the baby boy Alice)

The basics of my idea for this fanfic is that Alice grew up in wonderland being able to visit it when ever he wants with the help of the white rabbit , he’s been visiting since he was young (maybe 3-4 years old) he grew up with the weirdness of wonderland and see the beloved characters as family, King and Queen of hearts are parental figures, mad hatter, the March hare and the teapot mouse as uncles and aunt, and the jabberwock as a giant house pet , and with the rest of the great seven as his other parental figures as well (yes I’m very well aware of great 7 yuu and great 7 yuu is one of my inspirations for this fanfic idea) Alice often stays in wonderland longer than he should but it doesn’t matter since time works differently in wonderland than Alice’s words, Alice can stay in wonderland for week, months or even years but in Alice’s world he’s only been gone for a couple of hours or a day (since we see in the live action, in wonderland Alice has been there for days but when she returns it’s only been a few minutes).

And Alice was somewhat involved with the making of NRC , yes i know this sounds far fetched but I saw a theory about NRC being the evil queens old castle, they even compared pictures of both NRC and pictures from the Snow White movie as proof, since that place is really really old it obviously had a lot of changes to it, and in my fanfic ramshackle was a dorm specifically for students that are from Alice’s world, normal magic less students who are more interested in things that are considered abnormal in their world, like Alice’s natural curiosity for things that aren’t the norm in the Victorian era, here’s a bit of the fanfic for context

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

“My dear do you like the idea of going to this school once it is finished?” The queen of hearts asked Alice as the boy was sitting next to her looking at a book with only pictures in it and little to no words.

-Alice looked up at his mother practically beaming with excitement ”of course mother! Night Raven College sounds like it would a wonderful school! I can’t wait for it to be finished! Meet all kinds of people from other lands, and learning new things from them just makes me excited!” The boy yelled with joy and excitement.

-The Queen couldn’t help but coo at how adorable her son was, his natural curiosity always getting the best of him “well there will be another dorm added for special students” the Queen said to grab her son’s attention

-The Queen had Alice’s full attention now, placing himself on her lap so he can listen to her with wide eyes filled with curiosity and smile on his face “this dorm will be for students like you my dear” she stated then bopping Alice’s nose making him giggle “this dorm will be for students from your worlds” she continued “students who don’t fit in with the norms of their society or government or whatever it is they have there. Magic-less students who have unique qualities of their own to make up for their lack of magic, like how your such a curious little boy, smart and a fast learner!”

-The Queen cheered and tickled Alice making the boy laugh and trying to keep his mother hands from tickling him more, the pair laughed and hugged each other in a loving embrace

-Once they’ve stopped the boy got off his mother’s lap and looked up at her to ask if he could go tell his father, the King of hearts about it, she gave a nod of approval then the boy ran off into the garden to find his father to tell him about the news

And this is the last time Alice sees his wonderland family after going back to his normal family which he regrets a lot because the white rabbit never came back to bring him back to wonderland and he’s been waiting ever since.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

I’m still very nervous to post the stuff I write and draw on here, and I’m still nervous about my writing since I’ve mainly only written stuff for myself for a long time but I wanna share the stuff I write and draw, I’m still new to writing for other people so for those who are way better writers then me feel free to point out any mistakes I make, I wanna learn so I can be a better writer

All of my writing will be male and enby readers so please don’t ever ask for a female reader I’m begging you please just don’t, I will never do female readers, I posted my rules about request before but deleted it because I haven’t posted any of my writing about twst, I will remake it once I’ve posted more of my stuff

I’ve rambled about my version of Alice for twst on @Twisted-wonderland-but-gayer blogs and a lot of their writing inspired me to make my own about twst

Here is some art work of my version of Alice for twst

#twst #twisted wonderland #writing #fanfic #my oc art #my oc character #oc rambles #male reader #enby reader #twst x male reader

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gifseafins · 1 year

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Chapter 1

I hope you like the first chapter of my first fic Bheem and Jenny. This baby is so young he doesn't even have a name yet. That's right, this fic still hasn't got a name, ideas? I got it @ronaldofandom hope you like it!

That day was certainly a day of extreme learning and discoveries for me. Through Lachu, I could learn the truth about Malli's life and the cruelty my uncles imposed on their tribe. Through Bheem's foster family and friends, learn the truth about her life. Through Sita, learning the truth about Ram and the deep pain he has carried since he was a child. . The hours that all of us stood on that hill, just waiting, hoping to see Bheem and Raju safe and alive again seemed endless. But that time served to show me how small and silent I was in the face of everything that happened around me. . I was wrong not to question my aunt about the child's origin in our house and why she was in a room with bars and being constantly watched. If I didn't believe that Indians were just "brown savages" as they said, why in god's name did I allow people in my house to think that about a child? . I was wrong not to have noticed the desperation in Bheem's eyes when he was in my house, mistakenly believing that all that emotion was just curiosity for a new world before him. When Malli's singing echoed through the halls, I was so used to it that I didn't even react, I was so frustrated at not being able to talk to Bheem properly that I didn't realize the desperation in his actions upon hearing the same chant. . I was wrong in not questioning myself more about Raju's presence and authority, nor the ease with which he could enter anywhere. The invitation to the Gymkhana Club party was just for Bheem, how did he also get past the guards at the gate? And how did the women at the party know his name? He shouldn't know anyone in the palace... . But I didn't care or question anything that happened around me. Always safe in my pink world, where everything was accessible and perfect. . And there, on that hill and among those flowers, as we all waited for Bheem and Raju to return, I made a decision. . I would no longer be the helpless and uninformed damsel! I would not allow children to be hurt in front of me! I would no longer allow myself to be used as a torture toy by others, because that was my uncles' intention when they dragged me onto the dais during Bheem's flogging. . -If he looks at us, even for a minute and sees you there, he will understand that he is nobody compared to you. -And never again will he dare to take with anyone the freedom he dared to take with you. -He will never dare to deceive another girl again. . And for sure, I would no longer hold back my urge to spit in the face of anyone who dared to say something like what my uncle had said to me that day. I wasn't a victim, I wasn't tricked. I wanted to be with Bheem! I wanted to get on his motorcycle! I wanted to walk with him that afternoon! I wanted him to come to the party! I wanted to dance with him! I wanted to take it to my house! And god knows, if it weren't for the exaggerated modesty I was raised with, I would really have had everything I wanted that day... . Everyone was alerted to the sound of a car approaching that place. And everyone was surprised by the presence of a truck coming towards us. But everyone exploded with joy when they saw that Bheem was driving that truck, and that he was not alone, Raju was there with him. That they were both alive and safe! . When Bheem came to thank me for all the help I'd given him in giving him the prison maps, and in the search for Lachu. Bheem reached his hand out to me. Always polite and kind, never crossing any type of barrier without proper authorization! . And the old Jenny would have accepted that gesture, and gratefully. But the new Jenny wanted a hug, and she was going to get one! With a certain abruptness I took her hand away and pulled him to me. And the moment he hugged me back, the joy in me was so great, that if God decided to kill me at that moment, I would die happy! . I loved this man from the beginning! Since before I knew who he was... Since before he knew what he really wanted... And before I even knew from Peddayya, why Bheem was always hanging around the palace. That in the beginning, it was to look for information about Malli, but later, it was for the hope of being able to see me again! . And despite all the banter this truth generated in our group, my favorite part was when after hearing this, Malli proceeded to call me Jenny akka. Malli started calling me sister! . My family had a small property in that region. The house was considered so small that my uncles simply ignored its existence. Believing that disuse will leave the house in ruins and uninhabitable. But again, and lucky for us, they were wrong. . And the house was certainly small by English standards, but it was perfect for us. Perfect for that moment! Perfect for giving everyone what they needed most. A good night's sleep, peaceful and safe. . The tall weeds that surrounded the house made the perfect camouflage available. But that didn't stop Bheem and the others from creating various sound traps to warn them if anyone came near the house. And not even establishing watch shifts to ensure everyone's safety. A small argument arose between the men when Mr. Ahmed suggested that Bheem and Raju be off the roster. . -My son didn't even have time to recover from his imprisonment and torture and had to use his last strength in this escape. -And the same for Raju, or do you think I didn't notice, that my son changed the medicine in his legs four times in the last twenty minutes? -Both need to rest, and more than any of us! . -Mister Ahmed is right! . Peddayya's voice and the authority contained in it, drawing everyone's attention. . -Bheem is strong, he always was, that's why he is our protector. -But he is also human and his body has already reached its limit several times in the last few days. -And the same for you Raju, it's no use changing the medicine all the time. -If you don't rest, and give yourself some down time, you run the risk of turning that pain into something continuous, and carrying it with you forever. . The silence that followed this truth, only broken by the voice of Mrs. Fátima. . -Everything settled here? -The food is ready ! . And while everyone was enjoying the meal made by Sita and Mrs. Fatima, a feeling of uselessness again hit me hard. I couldn't help with the traps like Sita. What did I understand about battles anyway? I couldn't help with meal prep as everyone else did in some way. Whether cooking, or searching among the trees for condiments and seasonings. What did I understand about cooking? . After all, what did I understand about serving others? The perfect English maiden, always asking and never thanking anyone for anything... I stared at my plate for a few minutes. Plunged into my own anguish. Trying somehow to really understand my role in this story full of heroes. . I was so distracted by my own misery that I didn't even notice Malli's approach until she sat down next to me and started talking to me. In her hands, the bracelet that Bheem made in the market for me to give her. Another proof of how ignorant I was about the world around me. Malli's emotion when looking at that bracelet was not something normal, and I didn't even question myself as to why... . జెన్నీ అక్క. మీరు నాకు ఆ బ్రాస్లెట్ ఇచ్చినప్పుడు మీకు గుర్తుందా? దానిపై చెక్కబడిన ఈ చిత్రాలన్నీ మీకు కనిపిస్తున్నాయా? అన్నయ్య తన చేయి మరియు కాలుపై ఇవే డిజైన్లను టాటూలుగా వేయించుకున్నాడు. ఇవి గోండు రక్షకుని గుర్తులు. ఇవన్నీ అన్నయ్య మచ్చిక చేసుకున్న అడవి జంతువులు. మరియు అన్నయ్య నిన్ను విశ్వసిస్తే అతను చుట్టూ ఉన్నాడని నాకు సందేశం పంపండి. ఎందుకంటే మీరు నమ్మకమైన వ్యక్తి, న్యాయమైన ఆత్మ మరియు మంచి హృదయంతో ఉన్నారు. అందుకే ఆ రోజు నిన్ను కౌగిలించుకున్నాను. అన్నయ్య నిన్ను నమ్మితే నేనూ! . Sita must have understood my expression of confusion at Malli's speech. Because she wasted no time approaching us and translating each of her words. . -Jenny akka. -Do you remember when you gave me that bracelet? -Do you see all these drawings that are engraved on it? -Annayya has these same designs tattooed on her arm and leg. -These are the marks of the Protector of Gond. -These are all the jungle animals annayya has ever tamed. -And if annayya trusted you to send me the message that he was around. -It was because you were a trustworthy person, with a fair soul and a good heart. -And that's why I hugged you that day. -If Annayya trusts you, I trust you too! . -And I have never erred in my judgments! . Bheem's voice and her perfect smile bring tears to my eyes. Making me fall in love with him even more. . -Yeah, sure, you've never been wrong before. . The irony in Lachu's voice as he nodded his head at Raju brought a smile to everyone's faces. Except Raju's! Any expression of happiness completely disappearing from his face, with the truth behind that irony shown by Lachu. But before Raju could say anything Lachu's voice was heard by everyone. . -Don't even think about it soldier. -Don't you dare apologize to me, not again! -I already told you, I heard your story and understand your actions. -But I'm not ready to forgive you. -Not yet ! -I promise not to kill you, but I won't forget what happened so easily. . -Sleep with one eye open for good measure. -Lachu is terrible at keeping promises. . Jangu's sentence broke the tension that that moment had created. . And little by little, everyone returned to their meals. Enjoying, not just the food on their plates, but the silence and peace they hadn't experienced in a long time. Not for an instant while eating did Bheem allow his attention to stray from Jenny. Having her there, with him, in that moment... Seeing how well she gets along with her friends, her family, with Malli... At that moment, Bheem had only one desire in his heart. That he could keep Jenny by his side forever! . The division over who would sleep where was resolved more easily than Jenny thought. The house had 3 bedrooms. One room would only be for the women, Jenny, Sita, Mistress Fatima, Mehreen and Malli Both Malli and Mehreen, who up to that point had become great friends, loved the idea. . One room would go to Raju and his uncle. And that same room ended up by accident, turning into a medical center. Raju's knees were not showing any signs of improvement. The English had been particularly vicious in their aggression. Making sure the nerves and tendons were stretched to near breaking point. If not for the poultice Bheem had administered to Raju after his escape. There was a high chance that he would have died from the pain or fever caused by the infection. . Because of this, all the herbs and medicinal preparations that were with Peddayya ended up being placed there. Mr. Venkateswarulu, Raju's uncle, was extremely interested in preparing the medicines. And he and Peddayya spent several hours talking and exchanging medicinal knowledge. . And the last room would belong to Bheem and Mr. Ahmed. But Mr. Ahmed, to everyone's surprise, said he didn't want a separate room. That he would be sleeping in the doorway of the women's room to give them even more protection. Which left the room just for Bheem... As for the rest, they would sleep in the living room. Which would also make it easier when changing shifts during surveillance. . -Then that's it ? -Does Bheem sleep alone in a closed room? -Can we escape the torture of your snoring? . Jangu's joke brought a smile to everyone's face. But even the joy of that moment didn't save him from receiving a pillow thrown by Bheem in his face. As night approached, everyone slowly started to go their separate ways. With the men taking their places on watch and the rest going to sleep. . But it didn't matter what Jenny did. She just couldn't sleep... Jenny didn't know how hard she had fought to be born from her mother's womb. But that night, in order to be reborn, she was fighting a lot! . Everything she knew, everything she learned about the world. Coming into direct conflict with the reality of the world around her. Each class, each step, each modesty and modesty... All falling to the ground, and being crushed under the feet of a new woman. A new Jenny! . And this new Jenny knew exactly what, and who, she wanted. As quietly as possible, so as not to wake the women, Jenny left the room. Taking care not to step on Mr. Ahmed, as he had long promised her, and he was sleeping next to the door of the women's room. Holding back the urge to laugh, discovering that the snoring she could hear, when she was still in the room, belonged to Jangu. . Jenny took a few minutes in front of the room where Raju was. Admiring in silence the scene she had seen inside. Raju was lying on his bed peacefully. And his uncle was beside him, sleeping sitting on a chair. One of his hands, resting protectively over his nephew's head. . And Jenny couldn't help but wonder how many times he must have done this. With Raju's childhood, or rather the lack of it. How many times has this man been the protective hand over his nephew? Taking you away from your fears, whether they were real or nocturnal? . Getting to Bheem's room only took a few minutes, but for Jenny it took forever. The door was ajar and Jenny could see Bheem sleeping peacefully in his bed. She quietly entered the room, locking the door behind her. . -Jenny ? . When Bheem's voice sounded behind her, Jenny knew there was no turning back. And even if one were heard, Jenny would ignore it. A new woman was born that night and she was desperate for life. Of being free to love, regardless of who she loved. Of being loved, regardless of who she herself was. And it was time to let this new Jenny live!!!!

#RRR #Eu Fiz

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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we need more James and lil Daisy moments.

Oh...I don't know if you're ready for this softness. I mean, Daisy has Steve/Marta, Ransom/Kitten, Frank/Sugarplum, but those are Posie's grandparents. As far as actual grandparents, Daisy just as James and Iris, and her loves her men. She is a HUGE daddy's girl, and gets the biggest squeal when she sees OR hears her daddy's bike. Needless to say, only Jax can ride a bike up to the estate because more than once, and it was just Chibs and Bobby, Daisy had to be taken to a build site to be consoled.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Toasty Cozy

Summary: Daisy needs her Grumpy

Pairings: James X Daisy James

Rating: 🥺🥺

Warnings: cuteness, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 550

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Daisy Teller Masterlist

James looks over at Daisy sitting in Jax’s lap for family dinner, and she gives her Grumpy a scrunchy faced cheesing smile. Her bright blue eyes almost nearly close giving him her smile. Someone slaps at the table at something funny, and her chubby little hand presses over her chest, tapping along her heart as she looks up at her mom.

Posie without even thinking takes her own hand, rubbing over Daisy’s chest, before the baby looks back over at James. Almost pouting at him, and making grabby hands. Stopping only to cover her ears at the loud laughing.

“I’m gonna take Daisy James away from the noise, Ris,” he tells his wife. Giving her a kiss to her temple before walking over to Jax.

James holds out his hands, and Daisy gives him some giggles. Wiggling her body, until Jax hands her off to him. He gives her quick little kisses all over her face as he walks to Poppy’s bunnies’ sun room.

He knows the possibility for his youngest daughter being in there are high, but the two girls definitely comfort each other. Both needing a bit more quiet time, and just time away from all the dramatic people in their family.

Sure enough Poppy lays in the floor on her belly, talking softly to her bunnies, when James sits in the chair. The little girl gives her dad a quick hey, but continues with whatever it is she was doing.

“You, Miss Daisy ma’am, you need to talk,” the baby squeezes her fist repeatedly and he shakes his head no.

“You just ate. You don’t need more milk,” Daisy gives him a quick grunt, before giggling at him.

“Nope. You don’t need any. You need to quit being so cute, and letting everyone carry you around. You’re gonna have to work off these milk thighs,” she shakes her head no at him, giggling even more.

“Oh yes, you’re Grumpy’s chunkers. Your aunt Poppy was always such a petite little thing. Uncle Thorne was not.”

This only makes Poppy chuckle, turning back around to double wink at her dad. “Daisy, I did not know that we would love you so much. You scared me before you were even born, and scared me even more after being born.”

James pushes her hair back, and her eyes chase his hand, already getting quiet with how cozy and warm it is in the bunny room. The bunnies spoiled even in the winter.

He starts humming a soft little rendition of ‘My Girl’, still petting around Daisy’s face, and giving her a big smile when her eyes start rolling in the back of her head.

“It’s okay to take a nap. Grumpy wants one, too.”

“Poppy wants one, too.”

James gives that sweet girl a gasp, and looks back at Daisy. “Daisy, Grumpy and Poppy are going to take you in the theater room, and get all toasty cozy and watch Poppy’s favorite movie.”

“Aristocats!”

“I always thought it was Winnie the Pooh?”

“I like Pooh, too. But you said favorite. This month it’s Aristocats.”

“Come on then,” James whispers, Daisy already fighting so hard not to fall asleep. “Let’s take us a nap, and I’ll snuggle with my girls. Just need mama and…your mama.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #dau #da au #da au request #daisy teller #james rogers #james rogers x daisy teller

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nicephere · 2 years

Text

chapter 3

day four

𓆩 Nyx 𓆪

It had been a day since I’d brought Eleni to the room under the mountain Ramiel. I’d discovered its existence four years ago when I was exploring the area near the mountain, and I’d stumbled upon the entrance accidentally. Of course, I hadn’t done anything with that knowledge as I didn’t really care too much. Yet now it was a perfect location to place my new obsession in for as long as I want.

A place no one really believes exists.

In fact, there was a whole network of rooms under Ramiel. I’d given Eleni the prettiest one I could find and spent the day after I saw her furnishing the room, filling it with faelights and regulating the temperature of the air and water.

I’d prepared three meals in a basket with fresh fruits and snacks for Eleni in case she got peckish. Along with several beverages in a spelled container to keep it cool. I hadn’t had long to fill the wardrobe with gowns that would fit her, but I had all the time in the world to do so.

Now that she was mine.

Night would fall soon, and I could go and visit her. I’d told her I’d spend a few hours of the day with her and then go back when it became night so she could sleep. However, I was doing the opposite as my absence during the actual daytime would cause my family to notice and question where I was going. I was going to do everything in my power to ensure Eleni stay hidden.

From everyone.

I sat at the dinner table alongside my parents, sister, aunts and uncles as they discussed their days. Would it be narcissistic for me to admit I didn’t care? Probably. My mind was occupied with thoughts of Eleni and I was counting down the minutes until I could see her again.

She was a little bit wary and wasn’t yet comfortable with my presence, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice. She’s going to fall in love with me whether she liked it or not. Because now I was in control. Her life was in the palm of my hand.

Every day she’d be there waiting for me to visit, and I admitted I could get off on that notion alone. I knew I was all she had beyond the walls of her rooms and the only window to the outside world. I knew how desperate she’d become and how the loneliness would push her to cling to me as time goes on.

And I’d be there to play the role of saviour, then destroy her in the process.

“Did you hear about Helion’s daughter?” My attention was sucked back into the conversation as soon as I heard that.

Their eyes were directed at me now. I donned a mask of slight surprise and confusion and shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”

My father, Rhysand, sighed, worry etching into his brows. “There was a fire where she was staying- destroyed the entire house. Her maid was badly injured, but Helion’s daughter was nowhere to be found.”

I tilted my head for added effect. “She’s missing?”

My mother, Feyre, answered this time, nodding. “Helion’s a mess. He thinks someone took her.” She fed a spoon of baby food into my younger sister, Selena’s mouth. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you or ‘Lena.”

Silence fell across the dinner table before Uncle Cass sensitively changed the topic of conversation. Soon dinner was over, and everyone retreated to their beds. By then it was just past midnight.

I went up to my room and locked my door before taking the basket of food and drinks I’d hid as well as some more clothes I’d acquired during the day.

If there’s anything I would thank my father for: it would be teaching me to winnow. Truly saves time when one has places to be or a beautiful girl waiting for them.

With one final check that no one would disturb my room during the night, I winnowed to Ramiel and made my way- albeit quickly- to the chamber that led to Eleni’s room.

Truly it was a sight worth waiting for when I entered her room and I saw her spring up from where she sat on the bed.

“You’re back.” I noted her attempt to hide the eagerness in her tone. Mother forbid she let me know how long she’d sat waiting for me.

But I knew. And it stirred something wonderful in me.

“Yes I am.” I said as I set the basket and clothes on her bed. “And I come bearing gifts.”

This time she didn’t bother slowing down as she tore open the basket and pulled out the various food items and the drinks I’d so tentatively prepared earlier.

“I hope it’s to your liking.” I remarked.

Eleni snorted. “With how hungry I am right now. Anything will be to my liking.”

I couldn’t help smiling as she scarfed down the first plate, a few fruits afterwards and chugged one entire bottle of water. Only when she sat back satisfied did I bring her attention to the clothes I’d brought with me.

Two day gowns, a nightdress and chemise. I had to become quite acquainted with female garments while I was hunting for these, and I hoped I’d gotten it right. “These are for you. Now I know it’s not much, but I’ll get you more soon. I’m sure you’ve seen there’s already some slippers in the wardrobe and underwear too.”

She bit her lip as she held up the dresses, rubbing the fabric under her thumb in contemplation. My attention was immediately drawn to her lip caught under her teeth. Prior to this moment, I had thought long and hard about how much I wanted to kiss those lips, but I knew that it would be a while before I could do that. Or could it?

“What do you think?” I asked.

Eleni tilted her head, “I much prefer gold. But for now, I suppose blue will have to do.”

I chuckled, running my fingers through my hair. “Well, if you have a special request, I’m going to need something in return.”

She frowned and dropped the dress. “What?”

“Nothing too big,” I shrugged. “Just a kiss.”

Without a second thought the word ‘no’ left her mouth. I may had been offended if I hadn’t caught her eyes as they dropped to my lips for a moment. Soon enough a smirk graced my own.

“Well, it looks like these are the only dresses you’re going to have for a while then.” I wasn’t above mild blackmail. Even in the form of dresses and kisses. I’d accepted I was going to do a lot of fucked up things when it came to Eleni.

She blinked in surprise before genuinely contemplating my proposal. It didn’t take long before her desire for more gowns overwhelmed her pride. “Fine.”

I didn’t move as she leaned closer to me. Only when her eyes fluttered shut did I crush my own lips to hers in a rather heated kiss. Despite her earlier temperament, she melted into my embrace and returned the kiss for what only felt like a moment before she pulled away.

“There.” She said, her voice slightly breathy. “Tomorrow, I want those dresses.”

#acotar #nyx acotar #smut #fanfic #acotarfanfic #ocfanfic #lemon #sin #toxic #abusive #stalker #spicy #romance #hot romance

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

Live In Nanny Pt 2

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny (Pt 2). The morning after and basically wayyyy to long so the smut is gonna have to be in pt 3. (word count: a little over 2k)

pt 1 here

TW: Yandere themes, day after dub con, reader is held against their will

You were sore. Your hips, wrists, back, pussy, everything ached. A silky sheet was the only thing covering your bare form. You could feel that you were alone in bed, Toshi's bulkiness was no longer weighing down the mattress. It must be mid morning because light was streaming through the curtains. Maybe if you remained still you could absorb into the mattress. Not only because of your tender body, but because you would prefer to never see your boss again. But speak of the devil. "Are we staying in bed all day?" You groaned. Hating how he worded his question. We. It was condescending, patronizing, and somehow filled you with butterflies. Something was placed on the bed, definitely not heavy enough to be Toshi. And then you realized, not something but a tiny someone. Baby Izuku crawled over to you, babbling, and tapped your sore shoulder. "Morning, Zuzu," You mumbled. Your joints crackled to life and you tightened the covers so you could face the little one. Behind him the clock read 11:00 am. "I need to get dressed." The villain cocked his head, "I tossed your clothes in the laundry do you want me to go get something from your closet?" No, you didn't want him running through your belongings. He would probably make a mess. "Just give me one of your shirts." That provided you enough modesty to get to your room and you were surprised the menace didn't follow. You scrubbed your body raw under the shower, subconsciously punishing yourself for taking pleasure from the night before. You were frustrated. Clean and covered in giant sweat pants and a hoodie you stormed into the living room where Toshi sat watching izuku entertain himself. "I quit." There was a pause. You tried not to look at the child. He would sway your resolve. This didn't have anything to do with him, it was between you and his father. "Alright." Oh. He wasn't going to challenge you? Figures, the man got what he wanted from you. You turned on your heels and rushed back to your room. You didn't own much so it wasn't hard to shove your belongings back into the suitcase. Opening your bedside drawer you froze. Your keys and phone were missing. This was their spot. The dedicated key-and-phone drawer. You check the room once, twice, then Izuku's room, the playroom, the kitchen. "Where are my keys?" You hissed, to hell with the phone you could buy a replacement. "Why would you need those," His voice was taunting. You felt your fists ball up and your nails dug into your palms. You stomped your foot like a frustrated child. "Because I'm leaving, I quit, now give me my keys." "I agreed you can quit, if that's what makes you feel better. I didn't say anything about leaving." The tension could be cut with a knife. He wasn't speaking or moving, he was eerily looming. In the other room Izuku was getting fussy. It knotted your stomach not going to check on him, but you kept your eyes on the villain. Toshinori was the first one to move, he went to check on his son. Clearly you weren't a threat. You could do without the keys, even sacrifice your suitcase. You made it all the way to the front door where you expected him to be, but he wasn't. He was with Izuku. With a twist at the knob the door didn't budge. You tried once more before angrily shaking the door. All Might called for you, "I told you that you aren't leaving. It's a two way security system but feel free to keep trying." When did he install this? You didn't see anything obvious like a box or camera indicating a security system. You could've thrown a fit or tried to break open the window but you had a feeling you wouldn't make it far. "What are you getting at?" You asked, rejoining the father-son duo. "Nothing aside from what we discussed last night in bed," he was making your cheeks burn red. "Making sure we stay a happy family." By the tone of his voice you knew there was no room for discussion. He didn't chastise you for slamming the door your room. He didn't pester you through out the day. He didn't even open your door to tell you he made dinner. He came by later to tell you (through the door) that he left you a plate in case you get hungry. By midnight you were. You tip toed down the hall, peeking into to the nursery to see Izuku fast asleep. You scarfed down the food before crawling back to bed. --- The next day you shuffled out of bed and into Izuku's room where you picked up the quiet but awake baby. You were gentle as you combed through his green curls with your fingers. He was still warm the way babies gets when they sleep. Holding him soothed you. Toshi melted when he saw you two curled up on the couch. He didn't want to ruin the mood so he stayed out of your line of sight for a few more minutes. Finally he entered the threshold of the room, "I'm heading out for the day but I won't be out late." You could've ignored him, but Izuku's grubbing hands were grabbing for his daddy. You had been defeated by the toddler. You weren't a monster. You moved toward your now ex-employer so he could tell his son goodbye. Goodbye before he goes off to commit atrocities. Toshi kissed the child’s chubby cheeks without removing him from your arms. He was too close for comfort. You took an awkward half step back before his huge hand caught your hair. With a tug, your chin jutted forward and he pressed his lips to yours. "Zuku, keep an eye on mommy," Chuckling as he stepped out the front door. Your mind was fuzzy for a moment before looked down at the boy on your hip who was giggling and clapping his hands together. --- The jovial villain was focused at work. He was on edge, quiet and irritable. Eager to return home and help you with his son. All Might wasn't delusional — well at least not entirely. He anticipated that this would be a rough time for you, but you were a good girl, you would adjust.

When he placed that ad to scout for someone to watch Izuku he didn't plan for this. But you were so perfect. He ached for you in a way he never hurt before. Had you been anyone else he would've killed you when you found out his villainous ways. But no, he could never bring himself to harm you. God, you even took the news in stride. Yeah, you weren't thrilled and may have walked out of their lives if he hadn't stopped you; but you weren't trashing his house or treating Izuku any differently.

And you were so pretty underneath him, whimpering while you took his length, your nails digging into the man's shoulders when he released into you. You slept like a rock afterwards, rolling unconsciously into him. Your body sought his comfort, knowing you were safe with him. He just needed to give you time to adjust.

--- It didn't take long for you to stop leaving the room any time he entered. And soon you were back to your normal routine of caring for the child and keeping up with the house. You resumed playing around with Izuku and began reading a ton of books to the boy. You told Toshi that Izuku could even pick which books he wanted you to read. It was nice that you were talking to him again, sometimes making jabs at his life choices and always kept a distance between yourself and him. Izuku was becoming quite the talker, well the babbler because he hasn't said his first word yet. He was figuring it out though. He knew he could say 'Ap-ap' for apple or to get picked up. You were sure he would say his first word any day. --- The three of you were in the living room when it happened. Izuku was watching some baby show, the first "lesson" was colors and the little one did his best to make nonsensical noises. The next subject was family members. Siblings, sister, brother. Parents. Mom, mommy, mama. Dad, daddy, papa. Grandma, grandpa. Aunt, auntie. Uncle. Over and over again until the show was done. Toshi looked at the izuku who was wearing the face of a thinker. He looked at his dad, the little one was trying to get something of importance out. You both cheered for him once he finally got out the word "papa." It was cute to see the man beam with pride, even though he was a villain. The butterflies were breaking out of their cocoons again. --- Toshi didn't get much alone time with his son and he liked it that way. That meant you were with them. But when he did get time with son he worked on teaching the boy that you were the mommy. Mama. And Izuku would try to repeat but hadn’t quite got it. --- You were struggling to maintain your composure in between watching the news and cooking dinner. All Might was robbing a bank. There were hostages. You recognized the location immediately as a bank you passed almost daily before working for Toshinori. Did you know anyone inside? A small part of you worried for the man, probably because you were thinking of him as Izuku's father rather than a villain. You shut the TV off when you heard Izuku start to wake from his nap.

That night you couldn't help but notice a slice on his arm; it was superficial, not even bleeding but enough to draw out the question: Why do you do it? It's easy, he shrugged. All Might never initiated an attack unprovoked nor directed his actions towards helpless civilians. He stole, dabbled in the black market, and made sure everyone knew not to mess with him or anyone in his circle.

You just couldn't understand. When Zuku gets older he will ask questions. All little boys idolize their dads. What if someone tried to hurt the boy?

The two of you were whisper yelling with each other. You more so than Toshi but he was still running low on patience; it had been a long day, after all. Izuku was picking up on the changing atmosphere, watching you both through furrowed brows, the quiver in his lip worsening. You stopped when you heard the whimpering begin. He was a sensitive child. Maybe you just needed to sleep. Toshi picked up the baby, bouncing Zuku in the way that always prevented tantrums and wails. He kept babbling and you could tell he was doing his best not to cry. You started to head towards your room when a cry broke out for 'mama.' This time it wasn't Toshi “putting you in your place”. This time it was Izuku.

"It's okay, Zuzu," Toshi soothed. "Mommy just needs a minute."

The crushing realization of just how trapped you were knocked the wind out of you. You couldn't leave the house. Toshi was always being too kind and patient. Somehow he managed to teach Izuku that you were his mommy. The most infamous villain had ensnared you and no matter what he wasn’t letting go. You would never be able to convince him to leave you alone and you'd never be able to leave Izuku.

You were tired of stubbornly holding out. Pathetic tears cascaded down your face, gentle and oddly relieving. Izuku practically leapt into your arms. The tot clung to you and his crying calmed down. you turned away, not able to look at the man.

"Are you going to think the worst of me forever?" Toshinori whispered. Maybe? Probably not. It was hard to tell. You didn't want to.

He continued, "I'm a good father, I would never let anyone hurt Izuku. Or you. Sure I don't have a lot of redeeming qualities but there are some."

You were tired of being stuck inside. It wasn't good for Izuku either. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't so sure you would abandon them even if given the chance. You were tired of trying to hate the man behind you. Tired of pretending you didn't fantasize about that night when you were alone in bed. Toshi moved right behind you and you relaxed against his huge chest. He was surprised and hesitant to move in case he frightened you to your senses. He couldn't just stand there though, that would be weird. Two thick arms wrapped around waist. "Tomorrow I wanna take Izuku to the park," You whispered. Toshi was equally defeated.

"Okay."

---

After putting Izuku to bed you made your way down the hall. The shower in Toshinori's bathroom was running. That was fine. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. If this was going to work without you feeling like a hostage he was going to have to be open to loosing the reigns.

He was surprised to see you in his room when he exited the bathroom in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.

"More fighting?" He cocked an eyebrow.

You shook your head, "I hate All Might, just as much as I hate every other villain. But when you come home I don't see All Might, I just see Toshinori, Izuku's dad. That's the man I care about and no matter how much I fight it I can't stop caring."

It was hard to keep eye contact with him but you continued, "I want to be with you and Izuku, not with All Might. And I want to be here on my own accord. I want to be able to go out with Izuku and with you. Can't we just try that?"

You didn't come in here to berate him again? Or to demand to leave? His heart softened as he realized that the person he wanted, wanted him back. You were willing to remain in their lives.

"I can try that."

Toshi trained his eyes on your body, fighting every instinct to close the space between. But you moved first, gingerly placing your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you straddled his lap.

"Can I sleep in here tonight? I want you to hold me," You whispered.

He nodded and rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. "Is that all you want from me tonight?"

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

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seroqueldreamer · 2 years

Text

Now onto Encanto, because I have... So many fucking thoughts and feelings. This is meant to be spoiler free, but I do apologize if shit kinda... Slips. I'm on mobile and idk how to do the *read more* thingy.

Let's start at the eldest and move our way down.

Alma - Alma has seen some shit. She's been traumatized, hurt, scarred, and she's grieved. But this... This doesn't excuse how terribly she's treated her son and her youngest granddaughter. She left a terrible situation but lost people she loved in the process. Alma worries and then her trauma affects the rest of her family.

Julieta - a Queen, a literal goddess, best mom. Julieta loves her daughters so unconditionally and wholly. Being the oldest of the triplets (presumably) and having a gift that can't go haywire, I'm assuming Julieta was forced to become a second parent when Alma was busy in the Encanto. Imagine being forced to look after a kid who can see the future and another who can control the weather with her emotions. Julieta is shown to be able to stand up to her mother though. Hell yeah.

Bruno - there's a lot to say about Bruno. I'll start, okay. Bruno in my mind is the unfavored child. He can see the future and then people blame him bc he makes "bad things" happen. When he saw Mirabel's future, he knew either he would be blamed or Mirabel would be blamed. He "left" for 10 years because of this vision and he blamed himself.

Pepa - being the one with the most unstable gift, I can only really imagine how many times she's been calmed down by Julieta or "calmed down" by Alma. I think Julieta is the one who taught her the "clear skies, clear skies" trick where as Alma tended to more... Shame her. "Pepa you have a cloud!" And honestly, because of this, Pepa is shown to be neurotic and anxious.

Isabela- the first of the grandkids to be born and the one who looks the most like Alma. Y'all saw it, right? I think Alma started trying to live vicariously through Isabela. Isabela is a troubled character at times and is... Like every older cousin I've met/had. But she was shown to be engaged for the sake of the family, per Alma's request.

Delores- The second oldest grand kid and the one who tends to get overlooked. She's shy and is shown covering her ears. It's also been confirmed, her room isn't sound proofed. She's soft spoken, but like her family, she's doing things for the benefit of the family.

Luisa - the third oldest grandchild who put out an absolute banger of a song. We learn through the song, Luisa is a people pleaser and has to be strong. The village and her family literally use her until she physically can't take any more pressure and loses her gift. I want to say that's Casita's way of forcing Luisa to take a break. Luisa tells Mirabel, "I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous. I'm as strong and as tough of the crust of the earth is." But its then revealed how fragile Luisa truly is.

Camilo- Gender fucking envy first of all. Secondly, does Camilo go through an identity crisis bc of the shape shifting? There's not a lot to say about Camilo because we don't see a lot of him except when he's shit talking Bruno.

Mirabel - baby. Sweet girl. Mirabel is the black sheep and Augustin, Julieta, and Luisa know it. Isabela treats Mirabel like shit. When Mirabel didn't get a gift, she essentially lost all usefulness for Alma. She doesn't have anything to exploit. Instead, Mirabel is left alone in that damn nursery for 5 years and didn't get to interact with anyone outside of most likely helping her mom pass out food or helping Delores sell fruit. Mirabel is shown, time and time again just looking for Alma's approval. It doesn't matter if she has her parents approval, her aunt and uncles, she wants her Abuelas approval so desperately but she comes to the realization, she'll never get it and it's heart breaking.

Antonio - the baby of the Madrigals. Sole cause of my baby fever returning. He's the sweetest and has shown Mirabel is his safe person. At his Ceremony, he doesn't ask his mom, dad, sister or brother. He asks for Mirabel. He gets his gift and its so cute. But with this, it's confirmed. Mirabel is the only one who didn't get a gift. Which... Is heartbreaking in it's own right.

#encanto #the family madrigal #thoughts.

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

The Return 2 {The Arrival, Part 2}

Summary: Back at the lake house, ten years later… Collaboration with @snelbz - part 2 to the sequel!

Word Count: 7136

The Arrival Series Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Even ten years later, Elain was still the first one awake whenever they took family vacations. She had woken up with the sun, tried — and failed, miserably — to rouse Azriel from sleep, read her devotions, gotten in some yoga, and started on breakfast, all before she heard the first footstep from anywhere in the house. But soon enough, she heard slow, sleepy steps on the stairs, though they headed towards the back of the house rather than towards the kitchen.

Ruling out Lannan and his voracious appetite, along with Thorn, Bennett, and John, Elain waited, mixing up the pancake batter after she put a large pan of bacon into the oven.

A few minutes later, Scarlett appeared, dragging a still half-asleep Cassian by the hand. He was yawning and had a hair brush, comb and two hair ties in his hand.

“Good morning, you two,” she laughed, pouring Cassian a cup of coffee, which he looked like he desperately needed.

He mumbled something that sounded like a typical morning greeting, while Scarlett gave her a sleepy smile after climbing up onto one of the barstools. “G’morning, Aunt Lainey. Are we having pancakes for breakfast?”

“And bacon,” she replied, smiling at her youngest niece. Layla and Scarlett had sleepovers all the time, being the two youngest and close in age.

Scarlett grinned and turned to Cassian. “Remember, I want two braids, daddy, not just one.”

He nodded, still drinking his coffee, but handed her the brush to start detangling her long, waist-length hair.

“Nesta not up yet?” Elain chuckled, pouring some of the batter into the hot pan.

“I like it better when daddy braids my hair. Mommy makes it too fancy,” Scarlett replied, scrunching up her nose.

“That’s right,” Cassian mumbled, running his fingers through his youngest’s hair. “Dad keeps the braids messy.”

Elain laughed quietly as she continued to make breakfast. “Well, if you have the magic touch, I may make you braid Layla’s hair. She always complains when I do it, and the art of braiding isn’t exactly one of Azriel’s many talents.”

“We don’t need to hear about Azriel’s many talents,” Cassian warned.

Elain jabbed him in the ribs, which only made Cassian laugh as he began to braid his daughter's hair.

“Is Thorn going back to jail today?” Scarlett asked.

Cassian sighed, Scarlett wincing as he made sure his braid was tight. “No, Thorn’s not going back to jail, ever.”

The ten-year-old rolled her eyes. “Never say never, daddy.”

Elain chuckled as she set a giant mountain of pancakes on the island. “Give your brother a break. He’s a good boy.”

“No, he’s not,” Scarlett said, earning a snap from Cassian for her to stay still while he worked. “He swears too much and he smells yucky.”

“All teenage boys swear too much and smell yucky,” Cassian promised. “Just wait until you’re a teenager and you like those yucky boys.”

“I’m not ever going to like boys,” Scarlett promised. “I’m going to stay single and awesome forever.”

Elain shook her head, humored, as she watched her niece.

“That would make daddy very happy and I’m holding you to it,” he replied, tying the elastic around the end of the braid and starting on the second.

“Aunt Lainey, does Luna like smelly teenage boys?” Scarlett asked, looking up at her.

Luna was Scarlett’s idol. Everything the girl did, the younger one was right behind, whether it was a trend, style or even just following her around. And Luna handled it well, for a sixteen-year-old girl. She never complained, even when her own baby sister was in tow. Cassian was sure that because she was a carbon-copy of Elain, right down to the soft, caramel colored eyes.

Elain smirked as she set a plate down in front of Scarlett, a small stack of pancakes on top of it. She pulled the bacon out of the oven before replying. “Oh, she does. And Uncle Az is not happy about it.”

“Isn’t happy about what?” The man in question asked as he rounded the corner, heading straight for the coffee pot. He paused to kiss Elain’s cheek. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Luna Bug’s boyfriend,” Cassian smirked, watching as Azriel’s good mood deflated.

“We don’t talk about him,” Azriel said, quietly, as he filled his mug. “And definitely not this early in the morning.”

“He has a name,” Elain said, simply. “And you should call him by it.”

“The name I have for him shouldn’t be said around Scar,” Azriel said, pausing as he passed her to kiss the top of his niece’s head.

“He’s a good kid,” Elain said, rolling her eyes. “And I think Luna and Lachlan are good for each other.”

“Lachlan,” Scarlett repeated. “I like that name.”

Cassian’s grin only widened as he looked up at Azriel, who sat at the table, sipping from his mug.

“Just wait until she thinks she’s old enough to date,” Azriel said, gesturing to Scarlett.

“Oh no,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “She’s already informed me that she’s staying single and awesome forever, so.”

Azriel snorted as the twins came into the room, followed by John, whose hair was sticking up in every which direction.

“Mom says she’s taking a shower then she’ll be out to help make breakfast,” John said, yawning as he flicked Olive on the back of the ear. She flipped him off, which earned a gasp from Scarlett and a laugh from Cassian.

“No need, your Aunt has been up since the crack of dawn,” Azriel said, nodding toward the food. “Eat up.”

John didn’t need to be told twice. At fourteen, he was eating more than nearly everyone else - followed closely by his older boy cousins, who were, no doubt, still sound asleep.

Lily was still mortified by her new haircut, but thanks to a French braid of some sort, it could barely be noticed. She and Olive got a couple of pancakes each and talked to each other quietly.

Once Scarlett’s hair was finished, Cassian got his own breakfast, splashing a bit of whiskey into Azriel’s coffee and his own when he thought no one was looking, and sat down at the table. Mid bite, his chewing slowed down as he looked at Olive. “Liv, I think you still have makeup from yesterday on. You’ll probably want to get that off before we go on the boat.”

She rolled her dark, lined eyes. “It’s Olive, Uncle Cass, and it’s waterproof eyeliner. I’ll be fine.”

Lily, fresh faced, shook her head. “She’s too cool to be seen without her makeup anymore.”

Elain was chuckling at the stove as the two girls quietly bickered and Cassian was immediately grateful he only had one daughter.

“What’re we doing today?” John asked, his mouth full.

“Ask when your mouth isn’t full and I’ll tell you,” Cassian said, sitting next to his middle child.

“Yeah, John, have some manners.” Thorn entered the room, grumpy as hell, the first thing out of his mouth directed at his younger brother.

“Says the asshole that spent yesterday in jail,” John muttered, mouth still full.

“Watch your mouth,” Cassian snapped, his mouth also full.

Azriel just shook his head, watching the three of them. He looked at Scarlett. “How do you and your mom handle those three?”

Scarlett shrugged as she hopped off her stool. With a piece of bacon in each hand, she said, “We stick together. Girl power.”

Elain laughed, winking at her niece as she fled from the room.

Layla appeared a minute later, on Rhysand’s back, wide-eyed and chipper. Bennett was soon behind, and Cassian snorted.

“How is it that the kids from your side are the ones still asleep when Elain is one of the first ones up?” he asked, looking at Azriel.

“Luna’s probably awake and talking to-.”

“If you say his name again, I’ll lose my appetite, then my mood will be destroyed for the rest of the day,” Azriel said, holding up his hand and looking at his wife.

“Lachlan is so sweet though,” Lily said, sighing, and Olive nodded, which earned them a look from both Rhys and Azriel.

“Teenage boys aren’t sweet,” Rhys told his daughters. “They’re crafty, lying, disgusting creatures.”

Lily and Olive looked at Thorn and Bennett, both shoveling food into their mouths. Their brother responded. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say he’s wrong?” Olive asked, looking between them.

“No, because then I’d be lying and proving him right,” Bennett replied.

“And we’re pretty disgusting,” Thorn added, shoving an entire piece of bacon into his mouth in two bites. Bennett nodded and was getting up for seconds when Rhys stopped him.

“Save some food for your mothers, please,” he said. “After mom and Aunt Nesta eat, you can get more.”

Layla quietly approached Cassian and tapped on his shoulder, asking if he could braid her hair, too. He gave Elain a knowing look, but picked Layla up and set her in Scarlett’s vacated seat. “Only cause you’re the cutest one here,” he whispered, so only she could hear. She giggled and nodded, sitting still as he went to work.

Nesta and Feyre made their way into the kitchen soon after, with Azriel going to retrieve Lannan, who was still sleeping like the dead. Luna was the last to arrive, claiming she’d slept in, too.

“Y’all wanna make some sandwiches for the boat while we get everything ready to go?”

Cassian asked Nesta and his sister-in-laws.

“You don’t want to come back for lunch?” Nesta asked. “You want to keep nine kids on a boat all day?”

He shrugged. “They'll be swimming and wakeboarding and tubing. They’ll be busy. Plus Thorn and Bennett are taking out the jet skis.”

Thorn raised his hand.

Bennett gave him a high-five.

John frowned. “Why can’t I take one of the jet skis?”

“Because we’re older,” Thorn said, simply.

“That’s not fair,” John argued. “What kind of argument is that?”

“Thorn and Bennett are taking the jet-skis,” Cassian said, his voice holding no room for argument. “You can take one tomorrow.”

“Ooooh, me too,” Luna said. “I call one for tomorrow.”

Thorn rolled his eyes, the only sign that he was annoyed.

The second that Nesta and Feyre sat down with their breakfasts, Thorn, Bennett, and John were on their feet, fighting for what was left.

“Animals,” Lily scoffed, taking Olive by the elbow and leading her down the hall to their room to get ready.

Thirty minutes and almost just as many sandwiches later, everyone was loading onto the boat, save for Thorn and Bennett who took off towards the jet-skis as soon as they were given the okay. After strict instructions to stay within sight of the parents, they were firing them up and taking off, Cassian starting the boat and following behind.

Elain fell into the seat at the front with her oldest daughter, wrapping an arm around her as the wind whipped back their hair. “What’s Lachlan doing this weekend?”

Her knees were tucked under her chin and she looked out over the passing water. “He and his parents went to Orynth. They’re touring a college there, but he doesn’t want to be that far from home.”

“Far from home or far from you?” Elain asked, nudging her slightly.

Luna blushed. “Both.”

Lachlan was a year older than Luna, so college was much more prevalent on his mind, as a senior. Or it should have been, had Luna not already had her five-year-plan made, starting with attending the University of Velaris and ending with a degree in business and communications, an internship under her belt and an entry-level position in a company she could grow at.

“Sounds serious,” Elain said.

“Too serious,” Azriel muttered, and both of them turned around, unaware that Azriel was just on the other side. Elain lifted a brow. “What? She’s sixteen.”

“Exactly,” Luna said, crossing her arms. “I’m not a child anymore, dad.”

Azriel didn’t respond. He simply walked to the cooler, opened a beer, and sat next to Rhysand.

“Ignore him,” Elain said, her arm around Luna. “He’ll come around.”

“Doubtful,” Luna muttered.

“You’re the oldest girl in the family,” Feyre said, as she took the seat on her other side. “You finding a boyfriend is uncharted territory.”

“It’s just not fair,” she said, simply. “Thorn and Ben have had tons of girlfriends, since middle school, and no one has ever batted an eye. I get my first serious boyfriend, and dad…” She shook her head as she glanced at Azriel, who was sipping his beer with a rigid jaw. “It’s like I’m a criminal or something.”

“And you weren’t even the one in jail,” John muttered, gazing out over the water.

Cassian hit him upside the back of the head.

“Dad will come around,” Elain promised again.

“Maybe we should keep the boyfriend talk to a minimum,” Luna muttered. “At least for this weekend.”

“Why?” Feyre asked, propping her feet up in the empty second chair and giving her niece a comforting smile. “He’s going to have to get used to you dating eventually. And Lachlan is very sweet. You could’ve ended up with someone like your Uncle Cassian. He’ll get used to you having a boyfriend. I promise.”

Cassian brought the boat to a stop, effectively ending the conversation and started unloading the wakeboarding equipment.

“Can we ride tubes first, Uncle Cass?” Lily asked. “Tubing always gets saved for last and we never have much time thanks to you guys wakeboarding for hours.”

He was about to protest, even though he knew she was right, even with the unnecessary eye rolling, but Nesta said, “I think starting with tubing is a good idea. Let those two expend some of their energy before they board and try to do tricks they can’t accomplish. No trips to the hospital this year.”

The year before, there had been two trips to the hospital. One for Bennett, who’d gotten a concussion, and one for Cassian…who had thrown out his back, thanks to thinking he was still youthful enough to complete some of the tricks he had attempted.

He wasn’t.

This year, they were having none of that.

“Fine,” Cassian sighed. “Get out the tubes.”

The kids let out a round of excited yells, and up ahead, Bennett and Thorn were riding circles around each other.

Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel took turns driving, seeing which of the kids they could throw off their tubes. Even Luna almost let out a curse - almost, but not quite.

Once they were done, everyone grabbed a sandwich as the wakeboarding began. Thorn was the first to go, which meant that John got his jetski, so everyone was happy.

At least until Thorn wiped out, then he was just pissed.

When everyone was worn out, Cassian brought the boat back to the dock, and one by one, everyone got off to slowly make their way back up to the house.

Rhysand was the last to get off, carrying a sleeping Layla up the hill. He laid his niece down in her bed before fighting everyone for one of the two showers.

“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” He asked as he stepped into the kitchen, fighting off a yawn.

Nesta was doing the same and Elain chuckled. “Seems like everyone could use some downtime. Why don’t we let the kids do their thing, take naps if they want, and we’ll start dinner around five-thirty?”

“A nap sounds awesome,” Nesta said, wrapping her arms around Cassian’s waist and laying her head on his chest. From the look on his face, he didn’t think she meant it literally. From the look on hers, she did.

And so everyone went their separate ways. Most of the kids ended up in the bonus room, either playing Xbox or entertaining themselves in someway. Ironically, only Luna and Lannan decided to lay down for naps, and Nesta, of course.

Elain’s alarm on her phone went off, letting her know it was five-thirty. She and Azriel had taken advantage of their alone time and were now just laying in bed together, although Azriel it seemed was half-asleep now that it was time to get up.

She looked up at him, eyes closed and lips parted and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He responded by rolling his head to the side, looking for her lips without opening his eyes. She kissed him again, but pulled away when his tongue brushed against her bottom lip.

Laughing softly, she got out of bed and started getting dressed. Azriel watched her with sleepy eyes. “I’m going to get Feyre so we can start making tacos. Will you get the kids up around six?”

He nodded, tucking an arm behind his head and closing his eyes again. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“That’s asking a lot,” he replied, catching her before she could stand up, twining his fingers into her hair. “You wore me out.”

“Hush,” she said, blushing, and kissed him again before slipping out the door.

He heard a knock on a door down the hall and then Feyre’s voice joined Elain’s. The word daddy was unmistakable as they walked away and he couldn’t help but chuckle even as he blushed and covered his face with Elain’s pillow.

Once the smell of delicious food cooking started wagging towards their room, he decided it was time to get up, get dressed, and wake up his kids, knowing it’d be time to eat soon.

He stopped off in the boy’s room first, knowing Lannan would be the easiest to rouse. All he had to say was tacos, and his son was up and hurrying downstairs to help in any way he could, if it meant he could eat quicker.

Layla was still fast asleep in the room she and Scarlett shared, her braid messy from sleep. Getting her up was easy enough. She didn’t require bribery or any tricks, she liked to do as she was told. He just had to tell her that mama needed help in the kitchen and she slipped off to do what she could.

Luna’s room was at the end of the hall. She shared a room with the twins, but they were upstairs and already being told to go to the kitchen, which meant she surely was sound asleep.

Azriel didn’t bother knocking before he opened the door. “Hey, dinner’s-.”

“Fuck, Luna-.”

Luna dropped her phone and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes went wide in horror. “Dad!”

Azriel quickly shut the door, his hand remaining on the knob for a moment before he dropped it, and slowly walked down the hall, toward the kitchen.

He had not seen much, considering Luna had been under the blankets, but he knew enough about technology and the teenage mind to know exactly what had been going on.

Azriel was going to be sick.

He hadn’t even noticed the chatter going on in the kitchen as he entered.

Rhysand was in the middle of a sentence, even though Azriel had no idea what he had been saying, when Azriel said, “Elain, a word.”

The tone of his voice must’ve created alarm, because the room went quiet. Without noticing if Elain was following, Azriel walked into the living room.

He sat back on the couch, nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach.

Elain timidly entered a moment later. “You okay, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse,” he said, without any hesitation. “So much worse.”

He quickly and concisely explained what he’d seen, which thankfully wasn’t much, but he knew. Oh, gods, he knew.

He heard the male voice on the other side of the video call, recognized it and hated it all the same, especially the way that voice had said his daughter’s name.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Elain asked, shaking her head as she rubbed at a spot between her eyes.

“I thought she’d be asleep!” He defended, throwing his hands up.

“She’s a teenage girl, Az,” she sighed. “Regardless, you should have knocked. She could have been changing.”

“I wish she would’ve been!” His cheeks were on fire. “That would’ve been better than…that.”

Elain stood. “I’ll go get her. Why don’t you and the boys go eat on the deck? Some fresh air might help.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Do not be mad at her,” she added before leaving the room. “It’s not her fault you didn’t knock.”

“She shouldn’t be having video sex with her boyfriend while we’re on a family vacation,” he whispered, shooting to his feet.

“At least she didn’t get arrested having sex in the back of a truck. So this isn’t the worst thing that could have happened on this vacation,” Elain replied.

“No,” he said, heading towards the kitchen to get a plate of food. “It’s the worst thing that could have happened to me, period.”

Elain rolled her eyes, watching as Azriel stormed into the kitchen and out of sight.

Calmly, she walked down to the end of the hall and knocked on the last door.

She could hear Luna sniffling. “Yeah?”

“It’s mom,” Elain said, leaning against the door. “Can I come in?”

A second passed. “Yes.”

Elain opened the door to find Luna sitting up on her bed, wearing a hoodie and wrapped in a blanket, as if she couldn’t get enough clothes onto her body. Her eyes were red and puffy.

Elain sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her daughter. “Care to tell me your side of the story?”

Luna shook her head, then looked at her hands as she said, “We were just facetime-ing. It got...slightly intimate, nothing was even really going on, and then dad walked in.” Her face fell into her hands. “Too much was going on for him to walk in on, though, I’ll tell you that. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I just hung up. Lachlan probably thinks that I just lost connection.”

Elain huffed through her nose. “Look, I don’t know exactly what your father saw, he couldn’t exactly get the words out-.”

“Me, topless, showing my boyfriend my boobs,” Luna supplied, her face still in her hands. “I mean, I was mostly under the blankets, but… I think he got the point.”

Elain had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Usually, she wouldn’t find things so funny, but this was Luna. Luna, who never did anything wrong. The fact that she was just like every other teenage girl, that she was just like Elain and her sisters at sixteen, was…almost refreshing.

She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Your dad is having a hard time processing that his little girl isn’t so little anymore.”

“That’s an understatement,” she scoffed. “This is worse than my first period, first bra and first date combined.”

Elain couldn’t stop her chuckle again. “I think we’re probably gonna spend the rest of the evening separated. We’re gonna do our thing and the boys will do theirs. Are you hungry?”

Luna shrugged, fiddling with her phone case.

“You sure? Aunt Feyre and I made tacos.”

Looking up at her, eyes still puffy and blush still on her cheeks, Luna said, “I guess I could eat.”

“Good,” Elain said, kissing her forehead and taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “I know you’re a smart girl, and I know you care about Lachlan. But if and when things move past just showing him your boobs on FaceTime, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Luna’s cheeks were blood red again and she shook her head. “I haven’t… we haven’t… I’m still a virgin, mom.”

Elain stifled her laughter again. “I know you are, sweetie. All I’m asking is that whenever the time comes, promise me you’ll use that beautiful brain of yours and don’t let hormones get in the way. And when we get home, we can talk about birth control if you want to.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. “You’d…let me get on the pill? What about dad? He’d lose it if he found out.”

“If it means you’re being smart and safe, yes.” Elain smiled, and took her daughter’s hand. “And don’t worry about your father. I can handle him.”

“He’s awfully dramatic,” Luna mumbled. “He’s just passionate,” Elain said, correcting her. “Which means he loves as fiercely as he loses it.”

Luna chuckled, and nodded. “Let me text Lachlan about why I hung up so suddenly, then I’ll be out.”

Elain kissed Luna’s forehead before hopping off of the bed. “I’ll make you a plate of tacos.”

“Thanks, mom,” Luna said, as Elain walked out, and Elain knew it was for much more than the food.

As she walked back into the kitchen, all of the boys were out on the back porch, leaving the girls inside.

“We’re thinking about having a girls night,” Feyre said, as Elain approached. “Chick flicks, painting our nails, and mud masks?”

“I’m here for it,” Elain said. “Luna will be, too.”

Quietly, Feyre asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Elain promised, and went to making Luna her plate of food. She came out a minute later, and cleared her entire plate in under five minutes.

When they were done, Legally Blonde was being set up in the living room, and Nesta was carrying out a basket of nail polish.

“Looks like the boys are going for a boat ride,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “Hopefully Cass isn’t driving. He can’t drive in the dark. I swear he needs glasses but he’s too stubborn to go get his eyes checked.”

“He’s in denial about getting old, Rhys was the same way,” Feyre sighed, searching through the basket for a color she liked. “But I finally convinced him to go a couple months back.

Now it’s like I have a sexy Clark Kent walking around my house in the evenings.”

“How’d you do that?” Elain asking, carrying wine glasses and a chilled bottle into the room.

The girls were all focused on the huge box of makeup Lily and Olive had brought down from the bonus room, sitting around it and begging Luna to do their makeup. Even Olive was willing to remove her thick eyeliner if it meant Luna would work her magic on her eyebrows.

“I can be very…persuasive,” she replied, filling her glass and taking a sip.

Nesta reached for the remote and turned the movie up to give their conversation a semblance of privacy, turning her attention to her sister. She whispered, “Spill.”

Feyre was blushing, clearly not expecting her sisters to jump on this particular topic. She settled back into the couch cushions and took a much larger drink of her wine. “I…let him go where no man has gone before.”

“What, like, Victoria’s Secret?” Elain asked, brow furrowed in confusion, but from the smirk on Nesta’s face, she knew exactly what Feyre meant.

“No, Lainey, not like Victoria’s Secret,” Nesta said, voice low enough that the kids couldn’t hear them over the movie. “She let him get in her ass.”

Elain blinked once and said, “Oh,” before going back to looking through the nail polish basket.

Feyre and Nesta looked at each other, before looking back at Elain.

Nesta whispered, “That was a very casual Oh.”

Shrugging, Elain glanced up at them, still looking through the basket. “That’s nothing new for us.”

Feyre’s brows shot up as Nesta leaned forward. “Okay, for the two quietest and most private in this family…you two have one hell of a sex life.”

Elain laughed, quietly, as she picked out a soft lavender nail polish. “What? We’ve always liked to keep each other…intrigued…in the bedroom.”

“And was daddy the one to introduce this…act?” Feyre asked, still dumbfounded.

Elain shrugged, falling back on the couch. “We thought we’d give it a try one day, and it was…nice.”

“Nice?” Nesta repeated.

“It’s not for everyone, but…yeah, it was nice,” Elain said. “Anyway, someone paint my right hand, please. My left is too shaky.”

Nesta did as her sister asked, even though Feyre was still staring at her, minutes later. It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when Luna excused herself to walk into the kitchen, that Nesta excused herself to follow after.

When she walked into the kitchen, Luna was staring out the back door to where the boys were tossing a football around the campfire.

“You okay, Lunabug?” Nesta asked, referring to that old nickname from her childhood that they all still used.

Luna nodded. “Yeah, just…tired, I guess. I think I may head to bed early tonight.”

“I get that, it was a big day,” Nesta smiled, and hugged her eldest niece. “Don’t worry about your dad. I’m sure Uncle Cass and Uncle Rhys have been calming him down all night.”

“I know, I know,” Luna sighed, burying her face in her aunt’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to ever look him in the eye again though? He didn’t see anything, but he knew what was happening. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“You’re almost an adult, sweet girl,” Nesta said, tipping her chin back so she kept her head high. “Sooner or later, your dad is going to have to accept that.”

Luna nodded and hugged her aunt again. Nesta hugged her tighter and said, “How do you think I feel right now? My adult son got caught having sex in public yesterday.” She felt Luna laugh and pulled back to rest her hand against her cheek. “It could be worse. I’m sure you’re embarrassed, but this will pass, okay? Your dad is overbearing because he loves you.”

Luna’s smile was small, but Nesta could tell it was genuine. “I know. Thank you, Aunt Nes.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

With a goodnight, Luna was off to the room, Layla and Scarlett only a few minutes behind her. The twins, stubborn as always, said they weren’t tired, yet were asleep on the floor within ten minutes.

“Another drink, ladies?” Feyre asked, bringing out a new wine glass as she fell on the couch between her sisters.

“Please,” Elain begged, holding out her glass.

Nesta didn’t protest either as the three sisters finished the movie, drinking the night away.

“Fuck, the twins are only two years younger.”

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel were lying in the grass, a beer in their hands, staring up at the stars as their boys swam in the water, the firelight the only thing allowing them any guidance.

“I just… I knew this day was coming,” Azriel said, his words slightly slurred. “I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t ready for it.”

“Can we ever be ready for it?” Cassian asked. “Boys…they’re easy. But, girls…” Cassian shook his head. “We’re never going to be ready for anything they put us through.”

“I want to find this kid… And-.”

“And what?” Rhysand asked, laughing as he cut off Azriel. “You act like you weren’t a teenager once.”

“I was,” Azriel confessed, then sighed. “But…that was me…this is…my daughter.”

“Have you met his parents yet?” Cassian asked, sitting up and bracing his elbows on his knees. “Once we met Marion’s parents, we felt way better. Mostly because we know Lorcan Salvaterre has the capability to kick Thorn’s ass, and Thorn does, too. But it also showed us Marion is a good girl. She comes from a good family, who loves and cares for her just as much as we do Thorn.”

“We’ve met his mom,” Azriel admitted, staring at stars still. “Or Lainey has, I haven’t. But she said she was sweet. Granted, she says Lachlan is sweet, too. She thinks everyone is sweet, cause she’s sweet.”

“You guys should try to all go to dinner when we get back to Velaris,” Cass suggested, finishing his beer. He tossed his empty can into the pile by the fire. “Meet his parents, get a vibe for them, shake the kid’s hand hard enough to leave an impression. I’m sure they love Luna, just like we love Marion.”

“Them loving Luna isn’t the point,” Azriel began, quietly. “Everyone loves Luna. The problem is…is that I was a teenage boy once, and I know exactly what this kid wants.”

“You also met Elain when you were a teenager,” Rhysand pointed out. “And, you started dating when you were teenagers. You’re telling me that the only reason you wanted to be with Elain was for sex?”

Azriel paused. Then answered, shortly, “No.”

“Then maybe this kid wants more than that, too,” Cassian said.

“But he wants the other thing, too,” Azriel protested, then groaned, flipping over until his face was buried in the grass.

“You can’t make her a nun,” Cassian said, Rhysand grinning on Azriel’s other side. “You can’t keep it from happening. Teach her to be safe, and she’ll be fine.”

Azriel’s voice was muffled by the ground. “Why are you being the reasonable one right now?”

“Because I’ve also been a teenage boy who loved a girl. Because I currently have a teenage boy who loves a girl, even if he makes stupid decisions with her sometimes,” he replied. “But I have to let him make those decisions on his own so he can learn. Luna is smart, Az. She’ll make good choices, you just have to let her make them.”

He grumbled something into the grass that his brothers couldn’t hear and Rhysand ruffled the back of his hair before standing.

“It’s getting late, the kids need to get to bed.”

They called the boys out of the water, handing out towels and dousing the fire as they headed up towards the house.

“Bennett and I can carry the beers out to the garage,” Thorn said, and Cassian’s eyes immediately met Rhysand’s amused state.

“Good try,” he chuckled.

Rhys added, “You can leave them on the kitchen counter.”

The boys mumbled something under their breath, but did as they were told and they all went off to get changed and get in bed.

They found their wives on the couch, wine drunk and giggly, with the twins asleep on the floor.

“Everyone else in bed?” Cassian asked, sitting on the arm of the couch by Nesta. She laid her head against his thigh and nodded.

Feyre inclined her head to her daughters on the floor in front of them. “These two insisted they weren’t tired.”

Rhysand snorted. “I see that.”

Azriel fell onto the couch by Elain while Rhys gently woke the twins and sent them to bed.

Elain looked up at him and chuckled, quietly, as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. “You’re drunk.”

“I am not,” he lied.

“Your eyes are glazed,” she whispered, “and I could barely make sense of the three words that just came out of your mouth.”

“He only had…” Cassian cocked his head to the side, counting on his fingers. “Yeah, I lost count. How many beers you have there, Az?”

Azriel mumbled something incomprehensible and sighed.

Cassian chuckled as he stood, and gathered Nesta in his arms before walking down the hall, toward their bedroom.

Feyre followed, carrying the empty wine glasses into the kitchen.

Elain shook her head as Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut, thanks to her fingertips gently rubbing at his head. A moment later, she thought he may have fallen asleep, but then he said, “I’m scared for her.”

Elain’s fingers slowed, but she nodded. “Luna’s smart-.”

“But teenage boys aren’t,” Azriel said, opening his eyes to meet his wife’s. “I know that Luna’s smart. And everyone can keep telling me how smart she is, but it doesn’t make me trust any guy that she’ll ever be with any more. Men are idiots. And the last thing I want is for my baby to be heartbroken, crying over some dick that didn’t deserve her in the first place.” Elain’s eyes softened, but Azriel went on, “And the fact that they’re getting more….intimate, only means that Luna’s starting to trust him and like him more. And that scares me.”

“I know,” Elain said, quietly, crawling onto his lap and straddling his waist. Her forehead fell against his as his eyes fell shut, once again. “She spent the entire night thinking she’d disappointed you.”

“She didn’t disappoint me,” Azriel said, quietly, and Elain knew that he meant it. And as she pulled back, she recognized the look that was creeping into his hazel eyes: guilt.

“She’s probably still awake if you want to go talk to her,” Elain said.

Azriel hesitated, then nodded. After Elain crawled off of him, he waited a moment before pushing himself up and began to amble his way down the hall, until he reached the last door on the left.

This time, he knocked.

He waited, and when there was no response, he knocked again, only to find no response. He cracked open the door and peeked inside. The lights were off, and Luna was sound asleep, the hood of her hoodie pulled over her dark hair, and the fan across the room on high, pointed right at her.

He laughed quietly at the sight.

Yeah, she was growing up, but sound asleep, she looked like she always had: mouth hanging open, one hand tossed behind her head. She used to fall asleep on him like that, and he’d have to carry her to bed and tuck her in. That’s how she would always be to him: that little girl whose only man in her life was her daddy.

Except that’s not how it was, not anymore.

Azriel walked to her bedside and leaned down to kiss her forehead before pulling her blanket up higher around her. “Night, Lunabug.”

As he headed back for her door, he heard, “Dad?”

He spun around, that alcohol catching up with him and nearly knocking himself over, thanks to the quick motion. He grabbed the doorframe to steady himself. “I…knocked this time.”

Luna rolled over and looked at him. Thanks to the light in the hallway streaming in, he could see the hurt in her light brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel’s shoulders sagged as he made his way back into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. He ran a hand through his hair before saying, “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry. You’re growing up, and that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do, but I’m still figuring out how to raise a young woman and not a little girl.”

Luna nodded, but said nothing.

“It’s hard, though,” he began, honestly. “When I was seventeen, Luna, I had no idea how to treat girls. I went on a lot of dates, and…did a lot of things on those dates…and, if I’m being honest with you, not a lot of those things meant anything to me other than what I got out of them at that moment.” He looked at Luna. “It wasn’t until I started dating your mom that I got some sense knocked into me.”

She chuckled at that.

“But, I also know that Lachlan is not me,” Azriel continued. “I also know that I don’t know a lot about him. So, maybe next week we can have him and his parents over for dinner, and I can start to get to know him, if he means that much to you.”

He didn’t need any light in the room to see the tears lining her eyes. “I would like that.”

“Then you talk to him, I’ll talk to mom, and we’ll make it happen, okay?” She nodded, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Lunabug. I love you.”

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he was glad for what little balance he still had, so he didn’t topple over on her. “I love you, too, daddy.”

Wrapping an arm around her, he held her close, not letting her go until he felt her arms getting heavier. Until he carefully settled her back into the bed, tucking the covers around her, but not too tight, because she hated feeling constricted, and pushed the hoodie back just a bit to see her sleeping face.

She looked so much like her mother while she was asleep.

Quietly, carefully, he slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

He could tell the television and lights had been shut off in the living room, so he aimed for their bedroom instead, and found Elain sleepily beneath the covers herself. He stripped off his shirt and shorts, wearing just a pair of boxer-briefs and slid into bed beside her, aware that he probably smelled like a bar. Elain didn’t complain though, she just laid her head on his chest and slung an arm and leg over his body.

“How’d it go?” She asked into the darkness.

“Good. She was asleep, and I accidentally woke her up, but it’s okay. We needed to talk,” he admitted. He paused for a second before asking,

“Do you have Lachlan’s parents numbers?”

Lifting her head, Elain looked at him in the moonlight. “We are not talking to them about this at midnight, Azriel.”

“No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing a calming hand up and down her arm. “I was thinking it might be nice to have them over for dinner one night next week, all of them. Lachlan, Aelin and Rowan.”

Elain lifted a brow. “You’re serious.”

Azriel blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“Because you’re drunk and you just spent the entire day throwing a hissy fit,” Elain mumbled, nuzzling into his neck.

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Damn, you’re mean.”

Elain huffed then propped herself up on an elbow. “I’m serious. If they come over, you need to be nice.”

Azriel scoffed, his hand sliding down her back then up her shirt. “I’m always nice.”

“No mean-mugging the kid,” Elain went on. “You will ask him about his likes and dislikes, and you will not scare him shitless.”

Azriel sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I promise.”

“And you will offer Rowan some of your good whiskey,” Elain said.

Azriel looked pointedly at his wife. “There’s no need to get carried away.”

Elain grinned as she leaned down and pressed her mouth softly against his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.

He was sound asleep before Elain could even lay back down, and snuggle up to him beneath the covers.

He was over-dramatic, and surely a pain in her ass, but by the gods, she loved that man. He had given her three beautiful, perfect children, and although, sixteen years after their first was born, they were still figuring this whole parenting ordeal out….Azriel was doing a pretty damn good job.

Which only made her love him even more.

#the return #the arrival #nessian #feysand #elriel #2nd gen #modern au #sequel #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Be yourself and that will be enough

(A/N): This is inspired by a) Atypical and b) by my sister who is so done with me and my facts.

Summary: Your Uncle Morgan tells you what true friends mean.

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: One swear word, angst, but it’s gonna end fluffy

✨Masterlist✨

____________________________

“Hey Wonder Baby, don’t you have school today?” Morgan wonders as he sees his best friend’s daughter sitting at his desk.

“I did, but my last period was cancelled. The teacher got the flu apparently. Also I need your help on one of the topics in my health class. Dad knows pretty much nothing about physical education except for the effects of it. But I need to create a whole work-out. Can you help me with this, Uncle Derek?” (Y/N) puts on her best puppy dog face.

“Of course, Wonder Baby. All those doors don’t kick themselves down, you need a lot of strength for it”, Morgan agrees and ruffles her hair.

“Hey!” After fixing her hair, the teenager works on getting her pen and paper out. For that she nearly has to dump her whole back pack out on her godfather’s desk.

“Why do you have so much stuff with you?” Derek snatches one of the knick knacks. Looking at what he has in his hands, (Y/N) seems like she remembers something.

“There it is! I thought I lost it! That’s a fidget cube, my friends got it for me, because I click my pens all the time and it makes them go crazy. I can play with that without making too much noise. Try it, it’s really calming.”

“And what are those?” He sees a little plastic bag with three cards inside. Before the girl can demonstrate he takes them out, reading the description on them out loud.

“Fun Fact/Stats card. You have to give one up, whenever you tell a fun fact/statistic. (Y/N) what is it?”

Ashamed she looks anywhere but his face. “Uh, you know how dad always goes around, pepping facts and useless knowledge in a conversation? I do the same and my friends are annoyed by this. To keep it at a minimum they made me these cards, which are pretty much self explanatory. I’m not allowed to tell more than three per day. Every time I tell them one, I have to give them a card. Maybe you can do the same for dad, it’s pretty effective.”

“Baby girl, this isn’t right. I know we make fun of your dad for his facts, but we do it in a loving way. We just mean to tease him, not hurt him. His facts helped us more often than not. You should be able to tell people your knowledge. You should be proud of it, not everybody does know as much as you do, especially at your age. When your friends are annoyed by something that is part of you and your personality, then they are not your real friends, as hard as this may sound.” This seems to break the dam. (Y/N) breaks down in tears.

Acting quickly, the agent pulls her in for a hug, trying to shush her. His heart hurts seeing his god daughter, a kid he watched growing up becoming a beautiful teenager, in tears hiccuping and struggling to get a proper breath in.

“You-you don’t know how d-difficult it is to find someone who is willing to put up with me. I have to t-take every chance I get of having a friend, even when it means to hold myself back with them. It is worse to be alone, Derek.” He didn’t know until now that words can hurt so much. But here he sits, with a crying girl in his arms, who just desperately tries to fit in.

“Sugar plum, nobody has to put up with anyone. A friend genuinely enjoys your presence, like you enjoy theirs. I don’t know how hard it is for you, but changing your good traits for somebody, who isn’t worth your time, hurts me. I love to hear your fun facts as much as I love you. It is what makes you you. It makes you different, a good different. Just because some people don’t know how to handle real smarts, you shouldn’t feel like a burden. It’s their loss, understood Baby?” While wiping the tears with her sleeve away, she nods.

“Good, now give me these cards, you won’t need them anymore. Either these people learn to love you for being you or they can piss off. You are wonderful just the way you are.”

After Morgan’s well needed pep talk, both of them start working on (Y/N)’s homework. They tease each other, sometimes poking the other ones side with a pen or jokes about something stupid. But also the laughs about little unimportant things are so much needed by the girl.

When Spencer enters the bullpen, the first thing he hears is his daughter’s loud laughing. For him it’s like Bethoven plays the most beautiful melody ever composed in history. A smile graces his features, because to the doctor it feels like an eternity when he last heard these sounds.

Then he spots (Y/N) with Derek, having a lightsaber fight with several into each other stacked pens. They look pretty fragile and it is clear to him that they will fall apart at any second.

“Hey you two, what are you doing here?” Reid asks as he puts his satchel down at his desk.

“Dad! I have to fight Uncle Derek! Else the dark side will win and rule over the universe”, the teenager explains in such a serious manner.

“Well, then I hope you are going to win, my little Skywalker” Spencer encourages her, breaking out the nickname he had for her when she was little.

After the fight has ended (with the good side restoring the universe’s balance), (Y/N) skips happily in her Aunt Penny’s office to get one of her baked goods. Or moreover eating a tin’s contents that is just reserved for her.

Wordlessly Morgan leans against Spencer’s desk, who finishes some paperwork. When he looks up questiongly, Derek throws the little plastic back on top of the papers.

“What is this?” The doctor wonders, but doesn’t get an answer. His friend just motiones to the object. Spencer opens it, takes a card and reads over it several times. Finally all the puzzle pieces in his head click together. (Y/N)’s absent enthusiasm for her and his facts, her bubbly personality missing and her getting shorter with her words every day.

Looking back up at his colleague, Reid thanks him with deep sincerity. Both of them know that the father will do anything to help his daughter.

Later the little family sits at the kitchen table in their small but cozy apartment, talking about their day over the together cooked dinner.

“Did you know that the command ‘Women and children first!’ were interpreted differently on the Titanic? On the one side the man in charge let at first women and children enter the lifeboats and men were allowed to fill in the remaining seats. On the other side were only women and children in them allowed, so over 200 seats were left open when they hit the water”, (Y/N) tells her father with a long missed sparkle in her eyes. Spencer can’t help but smile at it, just being happy to see his favorite girl happy again.

“Oh and Dad? I was thinking about switching schools. You once talked about this school for gifted children? Maybe we can look into this further? I feel like I need a change.”

Relief washes over Spencer. He wanted her for the longest of times to switch schools to have her use her full potential and meet kids who are more like her.

“Of course, Sweetheart. Anything you want.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert

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themountainsays · 2 years

Note

Bruno watching from the walls: THIS IS JUST LIKE MY TELENOVAS—

I think for Mirabel, the thing that consistently haunts her is she’s totally unique in this phenomanon of being able to see color from birth. She knows the stories of her parents and her aunt and uncle, and how they saw the world in color when they met each other. Alma, back in their better years, lovingly described how warm and bright the world looked when she saw Pedro. So Mirabel knows that seeing color usually happens older, and every description of it has just been ascribed to the relationships she sees as loving and stable and kind and she so badly wants that, but she doesn’t know who her soul mate even IS.

(For simplicity I’ll say Luisa, Camilo, and Antonio all still see in shades of gray. Dolores BRIEFLY considered telling a tiny white lie and saying she saw colors when Mirabel was born just to give her that sense of closure and support, but she couldn’t bear to take this last thing from Isabela too so she stuck to the full lie of still seeing in shades of gray.)

The irony that I love about this scenario is if things had been allowed to unfold naturally there’s still a good chance Isabela and Mirabel could have been platonic soul mates, but you know that old saw about how the harder you try to keep something from happening the more likely it is just to happen? Because now imagine: Alma can’t fully separate Isabela and Mirabel, that would clash with the family image, but she does make an effort to put some distance between them and Isabela plays along—but all it does is make Mirabel fight harder to get Isabela’s attention because they used to be so close, especially as kids before Mariano became an unintentional out to the problem, and Mirabel desperately misses that for reasons she can’t name.

And Isabela, well—she shouldn’t like it, she DEFINITELY shouldn’t encourage it, but if as a younger girl she slipped up a few times and indulged Mirabel when she tried so hard to get her attention, who could blame her? No one had ever FOUGHT for her before, and maybe she liked that selfishly, especially from her soul mate. Mirabel saw Alma trying to keep them apart and sees that as a challenge, and one she happily accepts, for a long time before they get older and their relationship sours some.

(THIS IS LONG I’M SORRY)

ANON NO DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS IS AMAZING AJDJDNDN

Ay i read this like 2 hours ago but I needed to do something so now i'm back here and i don't know where to start akskskn ok ok so Dolores. Dolores bless her soul she's too good for this world. She wanted Mira to feel better but also didn't want to take Isabela's soulmate away... because she knows how it feels... even thought it could be interpreted as Isabela taking Dolores' soulmate away Dolores still wouldn't wish the same upon her she's 😭😭💘💛💔💛🧡💛🧡🧡💚💚💘💌💌🧡🧡💞 baby. Also i love the implication that Dolores thinks Mirabel being Isabela's soulmate would be a good thing? Or that it's a positive thing that Isabela deserves? Anon that's adorable and heartbreaking 😭 she's such a positive influence even though she's going through so much pain pls give her her man she deserves her trophy husband Mariano 😭😭😭

Also also also Mirabel conceptualizes soulmate bonds as healthy and happy relationships but she can't have that with her soulmate 😭😭😭 her soulmate doesn't treat her gently, does she? She wouldn't if she's the way she is in the film ;-;

Anon you are breaking my heart. Abuela got what she feared - her granddaughters could have had a normal relationship, but like a curse or an act of poetic justice, they eventually fell in love. I ASSUME they fell in love, later 👀 and Gosh little Mirabel trying to get Isabela's attention ahhh. And Isabela not being able to say no because she loves her so much and wants her close. I wonder if she feels guilty over not being able to put enough distance. She probably does. She has to deny herself this love and happiness. She doesn't get to be happy. It is not right for her to be happy.

The implication that Mirabel eventually gave up on her tho, that kills me 😭😭😭😭😭

#madrigalcest #isamira #shipcest #i cry #isamira soulmate au

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mitsungo · 3 years

Text

　∧＿∧

（｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。

⊂　　ノ　　　・゜+.

しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨)

　　.· ´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)

(¸.·´ (¸.·’* ✫⌒*･ﾟ

　　I didn’t expect the second part to become more popular! It honestly shocked me! I kinda have an idea of where I’ll be going with the ending—kinda don’t. Idk. We’ll just wait and see how this progresses! Also just go with the flow on this please 😵‍💫

　　✧༺🔥༻∞　🌸　∞༺❄️༻✧

Kyojuro had never wished for nothing more than to live a peaceful life with Y/n after retiring from the demon slayer corps. She was a wonderful person, ever since he had met her, he had known that she would be the girl he would one day call his wife, and she would call him her husband. He and his fellow hashira, named Uzui, would talk about marriage and occasionally talk about children and retiring. Though Uzui would get carried away when it came to the children part, adding more to the conversation about making the children and not imagining how the children would be like. When Uzui talked about that topic, Kyojuro would get startled and start sweating, before he would change the topic as fast as he could. But heaven knows that Uzui would pick up the idea that Kyojuro was still, pure, as Uzui would put it. So what if he was? He and his fiancée agreed that they would consummate their marriage duties once they got married. But then again, Uzui would tell him about how wonderful it felt to, be intimate with a partner.

“Y/n, may I ask you something?” Kyojuro asked, his eyebrows furrowing a bit, to show off that he was going to be serious in the conversation. “Of course Kyo, what is it that you wish to know?” Y/n replied gently, her eyes now fixated on his own. “Have you ever thought of, being intimate…on another level?” Kyojuro felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the question he had just asked his fiancée. Y/n abruptly stopped sewing, she didn’t move for a good minute, before she put the needle and kimono down on her lap. “Well, if I am completely honest. I don’t really know what you mean by that dear. What do you mean, ‘on another level’? Are you trying to say…” she paused, her cheeks turning bright red as she realized what he meant. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by asking you that. But I just, wanted to know. You know? I mean, the farthest we’ve gone to is kissing and occasionally leaving small marks on one another.” Kyojuro said, he really hoped he hadn’t made y/n’s opinion change on him. What if she thought he was a pervert now. How embarrassing. As he was lost in thought, y/n burst into laughter, starling Kyojuro in the process. “You could have just asked me if you wanted to make love Kyo. No need to be shy with me! We’ve known each other since we were children darling!” She let another fit of giggles escape her mouth as she desperately tried to cover it with a hand over her mouth. How cute. “Guess you’re right! I’ll try to be more straightforward next time!” He shot her a bright smile, causing y/n to stop giggling and stare at him in awe. Kyojuro made his way over to y/n, kneeling down in front of her and taking out a small picture of her and him together in kimonos she had made for them. “Always and forever, my beautiful wife.” He felt y/n gently put the picture back into his pocket, her fingers entangling with his own. “Always and forever, my handsome husband.” Kyojuro looked into his future wife’s eyes, those beautiful shining orbs of life and color. She leaned in closer to his face, her lips touching his. “Let’s get married here now then. And we can consummate the marriage before you depart tomorrow for that mission of yours.” Kyojuro closed his eyes, placing his forehead onto her own, smiling gently at her, “Very well. I will marry you here. And you will marry me here. Together, we will bring our two families and more importantly our souls together.” She nodded, smiling back at him with a warm smile like the sun. They both leaned in, closing the gap between them. Just how lucky was he to have such an amazing woman in his life? He would never know.

Now looking at the situation he was in, with upper rank 3’s arm piercing through his stomach, he wished he had married y/n sooner. They had only spent two months secretly married together, he was hoping to be spending his entire lifetime with her. He couldn’t give up now, not without a fight, not until he cut this demon’s head off. Kyojuro knew y/n would want him to fulfill his mission, just as his mother would too. He had to do it now. “I WON’T LET YOU ESCAPE! NOT UNTIL I CUT THAT HEAD OF YOURS!” He yelled at the demon, who had began to panic due to the sun rising. “LET GO! I SAID LET GO!” Akaza screamed, but to no avail. Kyojuro could feel his body start to succumb to his wound, no, he had to continue fighting. His mind started to get a bit fuzzy his vision on his right eye following right behind. Kyojuro felt Akaza rip himself away from his grasp, so this was it. The fight was over. He could finally rest. He had also lost the picture he always kept near his heart of him and y/n, how much he wanted to cry from not being able to see her face one more time.

“You will, live on without me. I will see you again.”

The day after Kyojuro’s funeral, she locked herself up in her room, ignoring her aunt and uncle’s plea for her to come out and eat or be in the garden. How could she eat or do anything when the man she loved had just died? Y/n undid her hair, throwing the pin away in a corner of her room. The sound of it hitting the wall harshly, she didn’t pay no attention to it, nothing mattered anymore. Nor she, or anyone. Her eyes started to tear up again, she looked up and saw one of the unfinished kimono’s in her room. Y/n grit her teeth in anger, yanking the kimono from the rack, grabbing a pair of scissors and tearing it apart. The one beautiful piece of fabric was now a torn up piece of cloth. She fell to her knees, her head starting to hurt from the anger and grief.

“Kyojuro! Why did you leave me all alone? Now who will be my other half if not you? Gods, what have I done to anger you enough to take away my husband from me? Please, take care of him for me until I go with him and my parents. Who am I to judge you for your decisions? Even then, I can not live without Kyojuro!” She proclaimed to no one, her hands gripping tightly on the kimono she had just shred into pieces. Why was this world so cruel to her? To everybody? She knew others had gone through much worse, and only now did she understand those who have lost their entire families, friends, and even themselves. How tragic. Her uncle and aunt were shocked when she had come down later in the night to the garden. Y/n looked up at them, her hair a mess, eyes red and a shredded kimono in hand.

“I renounce my title as a seamstress.”

A whole month has passed since Akaza had met Y/n. The two have gotten closer to one another, almost as if they were best friends. He had just arrived for the night at her home, the scent of her perfume in the room.

“Oh, Akaza. You’re here. Please. Take a seat.” Y/n said, gesturing for him to sit down in his designated spot. As he walked over to the small tea table, his eyes caught a certain picture frame that was placed in between a small shrine. Akaza picked up the frame, glancing behind his back to make sure y/n was not there, he studied the picture, it was Y/n and Kyojuro. Both of them smiling softly with their hands intertwined. It made him a bit jealous seeing kyojuro there with her, he didn’t deserve a woman like y/n. “So, are you going to teach me how to sew details into a kimono today or are you just—.” He stopped mid sentence, his mouth covered by y/n’s hands. She leaned into his ear and said, “I know you were the one that murdered Kyojuro.” He felt his eyes widen. “But don’t worry, I do not hate you. Humans and demons are sworn enemies. One may say that you are evil, doing unspeakable things to mankind, but even so, you are still a living creature, as I know you do not age, and you can be killed. Any living thing can be killed, though your morals are different than ours, I understand. What you think you do is righteous , and what the demon slayers think they do is righteous, it will in the end be the same. Killing one another because of different perspectives.” Y/n pulled her hands off his mouth, and backing away slowly. Akaza turned to face her, his face written with confusion and thoughtfulness. “You truly are an odd woman.” Was all he said in response. “They say the best people are a bit odd.” She giggled, taking his hand into her own. “Come now, let me show you how I do these details.”

The wind had began to pick up more now. With the petals of fallen wisteria flowers being taken away by the air and into the unknown. Akaza had just had a hard night, first he was summoned to an upper moon meeting, it seemed that an upper moon had died and their master was not happy at all, then that idiot with the blood stained hair had to go and bother him. How irritating, if only he could beat that parasite. But at least he would be going to go visit y/n today, since he didn’t have much do to. Akaza arrived in a matter of time, he poked his head into her room, his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed y/n’s scent was different today, sickly almost. He began to panic.

“Y/n? Where are you?” He took another look around the room and ran towards the end of the hall. “I’m downstairs, in the study room.” Akaza heard her say, he quickly made his way down to the room she said she was in. He slid open the door and saw y/n sitting down with her hand over her stomach. “Akaza, I found out, today, that I am pregnant.” His jaw dropped at the news, what the actual fuck? “How are you pregnant? I mean, is that even possible? Who’s baby is it? Have you been seeing men behind my back?” He started asking her, though he knew that couldn’t be the answer, as he would have smelt the scent of another man sooner. “I’ve only ever slept with you and kyojuro. This is very hard for me to even understand.” Akaza frowned when he realized that the baby growing inside had to be Kyojuro’s, it irritated him, now this day has truly become the worst one. As he was lost in thought, he snapped back to reality when he felt y/n’s soft hand tightly grip his. “I do not know why, but I have a feeling that there are two babies in me. And you are the father of one of them. You don’t need to stay by my side anymore. I understand. I wouldn’t stay either.” She happily said. Akaza’s eyes widened at her words, could that be a possibility, and would he actually want to keep staying here with her? Perhaps it was, or not. Only time will tell. As for staying with her, he didn’t know how to feel anymore. Y/n looked at him, her gaze slowly breaking away from his own, as if she was getting the aura that he wasn’t so sure anymore about anything. Y/n felt a smile creep up on her face, she pulled her hand away from his and slowly got up. But Akaza quickly yanked her back and embraced her, not too tightly, as he was worried he would hurt her and the babies. Akaza closed his eyes as he felt her arms wrap around him. This was a familiar feeling. He opened his mouth to finally give a response,

“I will stay with you no matter what.”

#demon slayer #rengoku kyoujurou #akaza x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x you #fanfic #akaza kimetsu no yaiba

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Note

Will you write about a family dinner today?

Yes!! Last few weekends got away from me, and these aren't always the easiest with all the moving characters. But we have introduced a new set of characters, Jax and Opie, so let's fast forward just a bit to when those two met the dramatic Drysdale's, and all these people see their first baby with a boy...I did say that it's easiest for me to do like a round up of the week prior, and I've been LOVING Posie and Jax and there's still so much to do with them.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Pack of Wild Dogs

Summary: Jax and Opie meet the Drysdale’s!

Pairings: Posie X Jax, plus all the other Drysdale’s, there’s too many of them

Rating: threatening Drysdale’s

Warnings: mentions of jumping on the bed, threatening Jax, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

The Drysdale's Masterlist

Opie turns off his bike, staring up at the huge estate, ignoring Jax turning around to give Posie a not so sweet kiss. Twenty minutes of their lips not being connected, and they’re already missing each other. He’s already getting slightly annoyed at the times he walks in on them constantly kissing. He let’s out a long whistle before the two of them pull apart. “You grew up here?”

“No,” she giggles as Jax picks her up off the bike. His arm circling around waist. “This is my Mimi and Papa’s house.”

“What about that big one on the way up here?”

“The King and Queen of Boston,” Posie grabs Jax’s hand, and starts walking towards the backyard, only to have Opie clear his throat. “What?”

“You’re not going to elaborate on that? Like it literally looked like a castle. And they had a treehouse that’s bigger than our apartment. Who are they? Where did they come from? Why is that house so big?” Opie continues rattling off questions, and Posie holds up her hand.

“Well the house is so big because there’s five kids and counting. The Queen is always pregnant, in fact she’s pregnant right now. They’re not really royalty, that’s what they call each other. They do have a lot of money. Would you like to meet them?” Opie jumps off the bike and nods excitedly. About to ask how Posie knows them. “They’re my aunt and uncle. Also, my godparents.”

She begins the saunter to the back of the yard. Walking around to each of her family members to formerly introduce Jax and Opie. Stopping at Story, to press her hand up against her belly. “She’s not moving today,” Posie says, getting the biggest smile from Story and Carter.

“No, she’s not been very active, have you Iclynn Blade?” she looks over at her husband giving him a soft kiss.

“Blade still angry that you named a girl after him?” she asks. Story looks up at Jax giving him a soft smile, because he can’t quit looking at Posie.

“He got a kid named after him. I’d been saving his name just for her. Who’s the big guy?” Opie’s eyes wander all over the backyard, kids are everywhere. Various different water activities for them and Opie’s feet bounce him around. “Are you okay?”

“I’m glad to have met you, your highness, but there everywhere?” Opie starts laughing when an older boy starts shooting the people in front of them.

“Otto! You don’t shoot your mother, go shoot Papa,” the little boy gets the biggest smile and runs off.

“I want one.”

Story looks up at the large man confused, “One of my kids or a water gun?”

“Both. I want it all. They’re everywhere! They’ve got...it looks so fun,” everyone eyes each other, but Opie can only think about grabbing a water gun and playing. “I want one.”

“You can’t have one of the kids, but there’s more water guns by the pool house,” Opie runs off towards the pool house. Grabbing up a gun and starts chasing the kids. Otto and Ellie regroup for a moment before they’re running after him. Cornering Opie to soak him, but when they run out of water he starts chasing them. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Opie really likes kids. He’d have thirty if he could find the right woman.”

“Story, you and Ope have something in common,” Posie giggles. Her hand going up the back of shirt, settling low on his back, to give him those comforting back scratchies.

“Why does everyone think we have thirty kids?” she pats at her stomach, “She is only number six.”

“You got your girl. So are you finished?” Story looks up at Carter, and shrugs. “Yeah, you’re gonna try for a second girl huh?”

“Iclynn is not even born, Pose. Leave me alone. I can’t help it we like babies. They just get old so quick.”

“We like kids, too,” Carter adds in. His eyes watching Posie and Jax, unhappy about the man that his goddaughter has chosen to be with. He makes a mental note to get Blade to look into him a bit more.

“It’s because you like jumping on the bed,” Story swats at Chris’ arm when he comes over. “Hey, my tips worked for you. You gonna make it an even ten kids? Five boys, five girls?” Story shakes her head, but Carter shrugs. “I knew it! Good thing you two are fertile.”

“Why are we talking about how fertile that the King and Queen are again?” Blade whines overhearing the conversation. “It’s bad enough she’s always pregnant, so we know they’re always jumping on the bed.”

“What’s jumping on the bed?” Jax asks Posie.

“Something you better not be doing with Posie!” Ransom screams, leaving James to growl, and Iris to smack at his stomach. Jax takes a deep gulp, looking down at the ground.

Leaning over, to make sure that Jax sees her face, Story shakes her head no, “Don’t let them see you weak. You be good to her, and I’ve got your back,” swatting at Carter’s chest when he starts to protest. “Jumping on the bed is code for S.E.X.”

“That spells sex!” Zephyr screams, shooting water at Posie and Jax.

“Alright, that’s it. Let’s go Jaxy. Me, you, and Ope against the heathens!”

“I’m serious, princess,” Ransom gives his daughter a kiss to the cheek, resting his hand on her stomach. “I know that she trusts you with this relationship. You and the aunt hippy and uncle grump. You keep our girl safe. Make sure she’s smart.”

“She is,” she turns to look at her and Jax laughing and running around with the kids. “Look at them. You think if she wasn’t happy, she’d be doing that. He’s a bit rough around the edges. But the more you push, the further she pulls away. I want Posie in my life.”

Carter looks over to his best friend. His eyes glaring at the boy that’s stealing his daughter’s heart, and he rests his hand on her belly. “Could we rethink this daughter thing?”

“No. I want tutus, tiaras, ballet slippers, pink, dresses, bows, all of it Baizen.”

“It’s a little late for that now, Tweedle Dum. Just think, I had four of them. Still got stuck with a bunch of boneheads.”

“Dad!” Ellie jumps up onto Beck’s lap pointing over to Jax and Opie. “They’re tattoos are scarier than Blade’s and Kissy’s. Do you think they’ll let us color theirs and make them prettier?”

“Pumpkin, you’re going to have to talk to them about that,” Beck is usually a calm man. Seeing these two outsiders, one of which can’t quit touching his niece, he’s not a fan of. Only able to see his daughter like that in a few years. But seeing that big tall one, both arms outstretched while Atlas, Orion, Brooks, and Zephyr hang on him, spinning the boys around. Jax holding Thorne and Oakley in each arm while they chase after Posie, shooting her with a water gun, he can’t help but to soften with him.

It won’t take a genius to figure out most the family won’t like him, regardless of what he looks like. Especially the men. But until he proves otherwise, Beck decides he’ll be in Jax’s corner. “Wait, did you say color in tattoos? You guys do that?” Opie asks panting from running around with all the kids, and carrying multiple children.

“Yeah, Kissy and Lucy let us color theirs in with markers.”

“Well go get the markers,” Ellie gives him a smile, and runs off.

Beck holds up his hand and pulls Opie down to him, “You protect our girl. We’re like a pack of wild dogs. You hurt one of us, you get the rest.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #da au request #da au ask #dau #the drysdale's #posie rogers #jax teller #opie winston #posie rogers x jax teller

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

May I request some La Squadra childhood headcanons (upbringing/family/habits/demeanor) :)) Maybe Mista and Abbacchio too if it’s not too much trouble since we already saw a bit of baby Bruno and it made me so curious about the other two! I always imagined Abbacchio to be a bit of a teacher’s pet as a kid lol. Your writing brings me life tysm!!!!

warnings for abusive family, human experimentation, misogyny, illness, hospitals, death, etc!

Risotto’s family did not care much about him. He’s the middle child of five - they grew up in a rural part of Sicily, in a house that used to be a farmhouse but was merely a house by the time Risotto came along (aside from a flock of chickens constantly in the gardens). He had a traditional Italian family full of people - various aunts, uncles and cousins - but his cousin was his favourite, seeing in Risotto’s quiet nature something similar to his own. Risotto was uncomfortable with there being too many people around and found his home life cramped and uncomfortable and loud. At the local village school he was often hunted out for games of sport (his height and muscle growing in at an early age), but he shied away from making friends, not sure how to handle himself around people who shouted and laughed, envying his siblings for everything seeming so natural. He often stayed with the cousin, and it’s through them he discovered metal music and his now signature look. His parents didn’t have time for him, but his cousin always did, becoming a makeshift father figure where Risotto’s failed. He grew very attached, and as we know, his cousins death hit him hard.

Formaggio grew up with a single father; his mother simply disappeared in the middle of the night and he never heard from her again. He was always loud, brash and cocky - his father was much the same way. They moved around from place to place, his father taking odd jobs to sustain them and never really getting the hang of them. His father was fairly young and a perpetual teenager, and Formaggio was much the same way. Despite living in occasional poverty, he always had a smile and he and his father were close to one another. He did not really make friends - other children were aware of his unwashed clothes, the fact his lunch was not made as neatly as theirs, the fact that his address was a one-bedroom apartment on the bad side of town - so he turned to acting out and violence, gaining a reputation as a Badly Behaved Child. His father fell into Passione in the need to support his son, and like father like son, Formaggio followed in his footsteps at fourteen (finding a camaraderie and sense of responsibility he never had at school and subsequently just stopping going there).

Illuso got into Passione for the money and the power. He was an only child and he had a nice upbringing, honestly - he just found himself not special at anything, and he desperately wanted to be. He flitted from hobby to hobby and interest to interest; he was clever and he noticed things, and neither of his parents really knew how to deal with their sharp-tongued child. He was a bit of a bully at school, but not the kind that is ever found out - Illuso’s bullying was quieter than that, whispered words and rumours that never seemed to find their way back to him. He was well-acquainted with blackmail before he turned sixteen. He knew how to sniff out weaknesses in other people - he was always surrounded by people, but it was a lottery as to whether they liked Illuso or whether they just didn’t want to be on his wrong side. Always willing to volunteer for things, too confident for his own good - eventually, he stopped caring about being ‘special’ at something, and just worked on being the ‘best around him’.

Melone’s backstory can be found here. Both of his parents were academics and lecturers in genetic science, and he’s the eldest child by eight years. His family moved around rather a lot. He has two younger sets of twins as siblings; one set of boys, and one set of girls. Growing up, his parents considered him less interesting and a little slow - he turned to science and genetics as a way to get their attention and praise; despite the fact he showed a natural affinity for it, by this time, they were far more interested in experimenting on their younger children and Melone was ignored. His nature is curious and insistent - he learnt to insist or to be ignored. He had to look after his younger siblings a lot growing up; they were home-schooled where he was not, and the strange separation of them and him and all of the children at school (Melone not quite fitting into either group) meant that he always seemed just a little off.

Prosciutto is a mafia man through and through. His family are entrenched in old bloodlines and uninvestigated deaths - unfortunately, though, they are a family that had somewhat fallen from grace by Prosciutto’s birth. The definition of faded glamour and keeping up appearances; rooms in a big, drafty old house that have an old bed and a falling apart dressing table. His father always talked to him about how it was his and his brothers’ job to keep the bloodline going - a traditional chauvinist of a man. His mother was very quiet and pretty; she encouraged him to small interests like old music and fashion, but was always silent around her husband. He grew up knowing his life was expendable. Youngest son of two; his elder brother died within months of finally being given his assignment within Passione and honestly, Prosciutto knows his father would rather he have died. A quiet little boy who did not make friends (he had a tutor) and had too much of the weight of the world on his shoulders in the knowledge of how many of his mother’s jewels were pasteboard, where the guns were kept, and just how many people he saw regularly were murderers. At his assignment at sixteen, Prosciutto had to learn exactly how to blend in, because many of the mafiosos he was suddenly surrounded by did not appreciate what they saw as his superiority.

Pesci was an only child of a single mother; his father passed away when he was young. He was rather sickly growing up, and it made his mother indulgent - despite growing up fairly middle class, he never wanted for anything, and they lived well beyond their means. His mother fussed over him, always afraid that he was going to have a relapse into his childhood illness - very much a child wrapped in cotton wool. It gave him his own complex about taking risks; he didn’t want to get hurt. He didn’t want to be rejected by other children. He was slow at his schoolwork but devoted to his mother, and other children saw him as a prime target to bully. He was kicked around a lot at school and it eventually made him too easy to subdue when he suddenly filled out and shot up and became a threat; found himself, too often, a henchman to more articulate, meaner children. Grateful to be accepted, he went along with the flow, despite feeling in the very core of his gut that he was disgusted by them. He ended up in Passione because his mother needed medical treatment and in trying to sort it out realised just how much debt they were in.

Ghiaccio just had a normal run-of-the-mill described as ‘average’ by everyone upbringing - both of his parents, an only child, a mother with a professional job, middle-class. His father was partially deaf - in my experience, people with deaf parents either speak very loudly or very quietly, and Ghiaccio has gone for the former. He learnt LIS at a very early age, and it’s part of the reason he can be so anal about pronunciation and language as a whole - he’s utterly fascinated by it, and that fascination started in early childhood. His parents were also indulgent of him, but having a younger brother meant that he didn’t get the full brunt of that indulgence - his brother was a little more of a ‘rough and tumble’ boy. He liked football and weights, and when he took up a sport Ghiaccio’s parents decided Ghiaccio should learn to do something too and asked him what he thought - they were surprised when he said ice skating, but figured he would go into ice hockey or something. He didn’t. For a while, he was fairly well-known in the competitive figure skating under eighteens circuit. It gave him two things; one, a competitive need to win and be good at things (and a propensity to tantrum when he lost) and two, a taste for flashy, expensive things (have you seen this man’s car). His parents eventually didn’t know how to deal with his arrogance, and he fell into Passione based on a ‘sponsor’ he ended up embroiled with at nineteen when his parents didn’t want to fund his ‘hobby’ anymore (they kept pouring resources into his younger brother, of course - Ghiaccio always felt a bit like they didn’t take him seriously). He left ice skating competitively behind, but he couldn’t leave behind the nice things or the anger issues he accrued.

I’ve written about Sorbet and Gelato’s childhood/backstory here! But a brief, shorter version:

Gelato had a loving family and a privileged upbringing. Always enough money, always enough to eat - an only child, who perhaps was a little rowdy at school but whomst his parents were very proud of. Both of them were traditional types; thinks a man should be strong, should be the real driving force of all relationships - they were extremely proud of him going into the army. Cleverer than people tend to give him credit for, sharp-eyed, a constant humming need to be doing something with his hands.

Sorbet was orphaned at a young age in a house fire and taken in by a church orphanage. He’s quiet but equally clever; his cleverness tends to be a little less in your face. He was a comforting presence to other people and took care of the younger boys (even now, he feels a sense of duty to some of La Squadra) - being low-voiced, soothing and commanding. He spent a lot of time reading. The church orphanage was poor; Sorbet has learnt to appreciate luxury where Gelato takes it for granted and it’s part of the reason he’s so concerned with finances even in his forties.

Abbacchio grew up in a houseful of women. His father left when he was still young; he was . . . not a nice man, and Abbacchio has vague memories of his mother carefully applying concealer over black eyes. It’s part of the reason Abbacchio became a police officer - knowing that he was still out there, not paying for what he’d done . . . Abbacchio wanted to ensure other people did not go through it. He had a little sister (by six years) who adored him, and his grandmother (who had once been an opera singer and still had a touch of that old-time glamour). He was fairly well off; at least, after he and his mother went to live with her mother again. His grandmother was EXTREMELY indulgent of her serious pretty-eyed grandson (his affinity for opera comes from her) who wanted so hard to be a Good Man. He was made fun of as a child for being a teacher’s pet and a nerd, you’re right - he adopted being a goth and dressing like that fairly early in his life. Nobody was going to threaten to punch him in leather and black lipstick, he thought - and nobody, too, needed to know that his CD player was blasting Monteverdi and not heavy metal.

Mista was the only child of an unreliable mother and a father who left when he was four (he kept very vaguely in touch; Mista has three little sisters who he sees occasionally but keeps quiet about his employ to. After the events of VA, he’s established a fund for each of them, but he wasn’t really permitted to see them much growing up). Even after his parents leaving and his neighbour’s loss of an eye (and the subsequent setting in of his fear of the number four), he was an easy-going child who made friends easily and smiled at all and sundry; he was never particularly book-clever, but he was good-natured and had many friends. His mother’s lack of reliability meant that he became very fond of simple things other people took for granted - when she died, he was sad, but his life did not change much. He’d already learnt to fend for himself when it came to food and the like; often coming home to an empty house and simply making do. (The lack of food in the house is part of the reason he gained such an affinity for things he saw as luxuries like wines and cheeses). He learnt to use his dark eyes and charming smile and warm nature to win sleepovers with schoolfriends and evening meals with their parents. Always a little bit behind his peers in having cool gadgets or interesting stories, Mista was content just to have a simple life and good health.

#jjba #jojo headcanons #risotto nero #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #sorbet #gelato #leone abbacchio #guido mista #Anonymous

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