#ch: faye honeysett-seed

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NOLAN & FAYE HONEYSETT-SEED ✤ children of the new world

the honeysett-seed kids are thicker than thieves—which is unfortunate for just about everyone that isn't in their little circle. sharp wits and a desire to make the most of a clean slate serve more than one purpose in the a world that's inclined toward quiet cruelty.

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FAYE HONEYSETT-SEED ✤ first daughter of the new world [x]

Since we’re bound to be something, why not be bound together?

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“I am not babying you, I’m showing you I care!” with Elliot and John?

bb!!! thank u thank u thank u <3 it was so nice to write some domestic fluff with these two since they’re always like angst-town nonstop skdjfhskdf. i hope you enjoy!

john/elliot + “i am not babying you, i’m showing you i care!”

words: ??? bruh idk it’s just like. a blurb!!!

warnings: none! just some good, old-fashioned fluff

Elliot was always the one that got sick. She was always coughing, sneezing, fighting off a cold or a headache or muscling through the word of a 24-hour-flu; her immune system was in tatters. This was a universal truth which could not ever be denied by anyone who had spent even five minutes in her presence; yet, no matter how many times John found her popping a tylenol into her mouth or brewing a particularly strong cup of coffee to clear her sinuses, Elliot never got so sick that she had to be trapped in bed.

Which is why, at first, John thought for certain something was really wrong when she wasn’t out of bed before him. She always got out of bed first. The dogs would be a mess all day if she didn’t take them on a run, and she would be a mess all day if she didn’t go on a run. So when eight-thirty rolled around and John shifted to a more comfortable position in bed—pulling Elliot against his chest and burying his face into her neck—he thought very little of it.

Until he did. And then he thought about it a lot. And then a feverish heat seeped through Elliot’s sleep clothes, and she coughed, the sound rattling in her chest like someone had just dropped a bunch of marbles in her rib cage, and then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

At first, he was concerned. Anyone would be. Elliot was the kind of woman who went, and went and went and went until she absolutely couldn’t anymore (and then went again); she’d never, ever missed a day of work for being sick, and she’d certainly never spent an entire morning bedridden, let alone a whole day. That first day was spent with John frantically going around the house, trying to keep the dogs (and the kids, quite frankly) from sprinting around like maniacs while still making sure that Elliot had everything that she needed.

“You’re hovering,” Elliot said through bleary eyes when he swapped out one cup of tea, half-drank, for a hot one.

“Am not,” John replied. “What’s the point of the tea if it’s not hot?”

“I can get my own tea, John.”

“Well,” he said, and then didn’t elaborate, because she said she could get her own tea, but her hands shook weakly when she lifted the mug to her mouth. “Then I’m going to run downstairs. Jacob is picking up the kids and—”

“Why?” Elliot groaned. “It’s a cold, that’s all.”

“Mommy,” Faye said from the doorway, “why do you sound yucky? Are you going to die?”

“Mommy wouldn’t die from a cold,” Wesley told his sister as he hovered behind her. “People don’t die from colds.”

“That’s not true,” John said. “Plenty of people have died from colds.”

Faye blinked big eyes at him. “So mommy is going to die?”

“That’s—not necessarily what I’m—”  

“John,” Elliot said, her voice bridging on a warning, “please.”

“Mommy isn’t dying, but she’s going to kill all of us if we don’t leave her alone,” he told his children, ushering them out of the door and back down the stairs. “Your uncle is coming to pick you up—”

“Yay!”

“Yes, Uncle Jake is your favorite, I know. Take the dogs and be good.”

True to his word, Jacob rolled around, packed Faye and Wesley and the hounds into his truck, and hauled them back off to the mountains; it left the house in blissful, peaceful silence, and by the time John made his way back up the stairs, Elliot had fallen back asleep.

That was the first day of being sick. The second day of being sick—Jacob being more than happy to keep the kids out of their mother’s contagious sphere—Elliot stubbornly stuck to her guns about getting things done herself. Getting her to call out of work was like pulling teeth, but John did it for her and she slept through the majority of the day again.

“John,” she mumbled tiredly, having only just broken her fever as the late afternoon started to turn golden, “can you get me something?”

John glanced up from the book he’d been reading. “Sure, baby,” he said cautiously, as she’d refused to ask him for anything and shrugged off his doting up until now. “What do you need?”

“The drawer on the bedside.”

“Uh-huh.” He stood, opening it. “The only thing in here is your gun.”

“Yeah,” Elliot said. “End me. Put me out of my misery.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, the dramatics,” he sighed, closing the drawer. “Just let me take care of you.”

“No,” she snapped, face flushed and body shivering. “Don’t fucking baby me.”

“I am not babying you,” John insisted, “I’m showing you I care! Now stop being a baby and let me help.”

She stared at him with her brows pulled together, teeth chattering as she pulled the blankets up to her chin again. Elliot looked like she wanted to kick up a bigger fuss, but something had softened her expression, and she looked more sulky than anything.

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine,” John agreed, straightening up. “Now that you’re done agonizing, I’m going to heat up some soup and you’re going to go sit out in the sun, get out of this stuffy room.”

Elliot sighed, closing her eyes in a show of relenting. The next few hours were something close to painless—aside from her rattling cough and her occasional complaint, she quieted her moaning about having to rely on him and let him coddle. Not a lot, just enough that it felt like there was a difference, even a little one; getting her to eat, and drink something other than just water, and be outside for a little while he swapped the sheets on the bed and aired the room out seemed to do wonders for her mood.

When night came, Elliot crawled back into bed laboriously. She rolled over and buried her face into his shoulder and stifled a little sigh.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she murmured, her voice slurring a little as the Nyquil kicked in. “And sorry for being a baby.”

“I can’t believe I got a thank you and a sorry out of you in one go,” John remarked, brushing the hair from her face.

“You’re the sexiest, most handsome, most intelligent, never-does-anything-wrong-and-never-could husband,” Elliot droned, her voice so dry John thought it might catch fire, “and I am but a humble—”

“Okay, fuck!” he laughed. “I was just trying to enjoy my victory.” Pausing, he added, “No thanks required, but you will have to take care of me when I’m sick, you know.”

“I’m used to you being a baby,” Elliot replied slyly, “so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great.” John turned back to his book. “So glad we’re on the same page.”

It was her turn to laugh, and she draped her arm over his midsection and nuzzled the side of his neck, already in a mood legions better than what she had been in.

After a moment, she murmured, “I will, you know.”

John quirked a brow. “Hm?”

“Take care of you. Even when you’re old and sick and the most fucking annoying.” She paused. “And try to be better about letting you take care of me.”

Leaning over, he planted a kiss on her forehead. “I know,” he said. And then: “But that is nice to hear, since you’ve been sweating germs all over me, I’m probably next.”

“How long does Jacob have the herd?”

“He said to call,” John replied. Jacob would keep the kids as long as he could, even if he liked to act like it was a hassle whenever Elliot or John asked him; he never, ever wanted to bring them back.

“Good,” Elliot said, nosing his jaw affectionately. “Then you’ve got plenty of time to get sick.”

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Bonus A-E for Elliot and John please!!

ksjhdfkasdhf; ANGEL!!! thank you!!! i think we could all use a palette cleanser after chapter 20  (❁´◡`❁) HAVE SOME SOFTNESS UNDER THE CUT

a. who do they think their child takes after? in what ways do they remind them of each other?

john likes to say both kids take after him, but arguably both kids predominantly take after elliot in looks--blonde hair, blue eyes, the same nose, the freckles. wesley is most like elliot in temperament (driven, funny, outgoing, a natural leader while insisting he isn’t), while faye is definitely all john, all the way through (so, like, fucking sneaky as shit, a button-pusher, likes to unravel people and figure out what makes them tick). both kids take after their parents in their flair for the dramatics.

b. what was their first night as new parents like?

oh god, fucking awful. wesley was a colicky baby from like the exact fucking start, and elliot held a grudge against john for like a week about having had to birth their child (which poses the question why she let it happen a second time???) so they were already bickering. also, elliot was terrified of being a mother, so the first night she basically just stayed up the whole night watching wesley sleep and making sure he was still breathing.

c. did their relationship change once they became parents? how?

yes and no; they are literally incapable of shutting the fuck up around each other and parenthood does not weed that out of them. but having children, especially smart children (smart for their own benefit and not for ell and john’s) meant that they had to like, be on the same team most of the time. there were PLENTY of furiously whispered pep talks to each other before telling faye that no, she cannot have a lighter for christmas and even if she could, she CERTAINLY cannot take it to school to light a boy’s homework on fire.

d. what new traditions do they start as a family?

with the arrival of the babies meant scarlet immediately tolerated john a little more than before, so they are required to go all-out for holidays or they are robbing the kids of their childhood. elliot also drags them out on an annual camping trip, which john complains about every year, and every year he loses the argument. just marriage and parenthood things <3

e. are they honest with their children? are there certain things they try to shield from them?

this one is DEF a toughie. following the timeline of ancient names there are a lot of things that elliot would not want her children to have to shoulder the burden of. but she’s also vehemently against lying (lol), so it would probably end up being one of those things where she avoided telling them until they were MUCH older and could understand the situation better. but you bet your ass elliot told them john tricked her into marrying him every chance she gets. john, i think, would be even more tight-lipped than elliot, because he’s a little control freak goblin and also can’t stand the idea of his kids having a poor opinion of him, he just wants to be a good dad