#melissa 'missy' astor

[endlessly-cursed]

fankids appreciation week 23: holy trinities

reyna, margrethe & wilhemine arcano, daughters of iolanthe ( @kathrynalicemc ) & atticus demiurgos-kennedy

syvanna, mikael & lennox arcano-thorne

robert, richard & melissa astor, children of blanche dubois & lyle astor ( @cursebreakerfarrier )

felicity, constance & meredith somerset, triplet daughters of diana somerset & tiberius dormer

[endlessly-cursed]

Papa’s Princess [Blyle one-shot]

Author’s Notes: 

Gasp! Not me writing instead of studying Latin... and the rest of my exams! Anyways, here’s Blyle fluff :D 

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes! 

Lyle Astor belongs to the bad influence lovely @cursebreakerfarrier​ ! 

Please let me know if you want to be tagged on any of my writing! 

Summary: Blanche gives birth to her third child, and Lyle couldn’t be more eager to meet her. 

Word Count: 1.1k 

Reading Time: 4 minutes 

Blanche Astor had been giving birth to her third child for nearly fourteen hours. Lionel Astor knew he should be used to it by now, but moments as tense as this one, the excruciatingly long wait was something that never failed to make him nervous. 

His two sons, Vincent and Richard, were in the music room, playing a soft tune with their uncle Philip. He had been a pillar to him and Blanche, and he was thankful that he had his support. 

An occasional cry of pain would startle Lyle, who wanted to be there, but the midwife and Mrs. Dubois had made clear that men were not allowed in the birthing room. He had been pacing through the door for the good part of the birth. His mother-in-law had insisted that he should sit down with his sons and have a glass of scotch, but as the man of the house and father of the child, he felt entitled to do as he pleased in his house. 

The door opened and his head whipped rapidly to where the assistant of the accoucheur went for probably more dry towels and a glass of water for the mother. He decided to check on his sons, who were laughing at something amusing Philip was telling them. His eldest, Vincent Robert, looked at him. He was now a boy of eight, but he was as savvy and perceptive as his mother “I fear for Mama too, but uncle Philip says we must have faith in her strength.” 

He sighed and nodded, patting affectionally his son’s head “You prove to be as wise as your mother, my boy.” 

He smiled at him, his blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother and coiled hair on him. His youngest, Richard Florian, who was six, was trying to play something on the piano, a gift courtesy of the Lady Gray for their nuptials. He patted his shoulder and kissed his head, earning a giggle from him. 

He sat and joined the riveting conversation, laughing and enjoying this time with his sons when Mrs. Dubois, Philip’s wife, Adrienne, smiled at Lyle and beckoned her to come with her. As they walked, he asked, “I trust my wife didn’t have an arduous childbirth?” 

The redheaded nodded “It was rough at first, but after some exercises and medicines of the midwife, she could overcome the pain. She asked for you the whole time.” 

He looked down with a small smile. He took a deep breath and entered the room, where Blanche, despite being all sweaty and tired, looked as beautiful as ever. She smiled at him “Come, Lyle. It’s a girl.” 

His eyes went wide and a wide smile formed “A daughter?” 

He sat beside her, the small baby fussing and her eyes closed, sucking on her thumb. She had her mother’s hair. In fact, she favored her mother enormously. Blanche passed the bundle to him and he caught her gingerly, feeling her warmth and how small she was “Hello, beautiful.” He kissed her little forehead, a thing that made her coo and kick gently her feet, a thing that earned a laugh from him, his eyes wet with emotion. His baby was safe, and she was a girl! The most beautiful baby girl from the most beautiful woman his eyes ever beheld “I love her already.” 

Blanche kissed his cheek “She loves you too.” 

She slept peacefully on his arms, and he settled her on the crib, with the blanket Blanche had been sewing from the moment she knew she was to have another child. Her Hufflepuff friends came to congratulate the couple and marvel at such a beautiful baby. They had decided to name her Melissa, with the nickname Missy, except Richard, who called her Melly, but he didn’t mind. 

Melissa proved to have her mother’s temper and attitude, but also her gentleness and sense of humor, as well as his love for the simple things. He’d often read her the classic poetry and sing with her at the piano. She had inherited one thing from him: his eyes. 

The boys already adored their sister, and Melissa had turned into Lionel’s favorite person in the world; he spoiled her like no other and she seemed to prefer his company than her mother’s, thing that Blanche teasingly complained about. She also seemed to like to tease him as well, and his sons had allied with their mother to prank him. 

When she said her first word, Lyle was overjoyed: she had said, Papa! Blanche couldn’t stop teasing him about being Papa’s little princess, a thing that made him proud. 

One night, while Blanche breastfed their daughter while their sons slept, he stood on the doorframe as he observed her sing a lullaby, her eyelids starting to close. He approached slowly and offered her some warm milk. She always had an unquenchable thirst after breastfeeding, and yet always forgot about it. But Lionel did not. 

“There’s your drink, darling.” 

The moment Melissa heard her father’s voice, her little head swiveled to look at him, and Blanche grimaced when she took her nipple with him. He made a face and kissed his wife’s head as an apology “Sorry. I did not know she’d do that.” 

As Missy cooed, demanding her father’s attention—which he gladly granted—she laughed “Papa’s girl.” 

He smiled proudly, his chest puffing as he cradled his princess, who got bigger and more beautiful by the day “She missed me as I missed her. Am I right, my beautiful princess?” He asked teasingly, a thing that made his daughter squeal. He kissed her cheek, earning a giggle as he started to rock her, her hand firmly gripping the lapels of his shirt, her energy dropping by the minute. 

After some minutes, he gently placed her on the crib with the lovey she already loved and he and Blanche quietly slipped the nursery, careful not to step on anything. They finally reached the master bedroom and Blanche kissed his cheek “Have I mentioned how much I love seeing you with our Missy?” 

He spun her around to face her and stared at her lovingly “Give yourself some credit, my love. You too are incredible with her.” 

She smiled at him, and his heart fluttered at such a beautiful sight and she tiptoed to have more leverage when kissing him “You know what it’d be incredible? Catch up with my husband. I haven’t seen you around since Missy was born.” 

He smiled mischievously and lifted her with ease “As you wish, Mrs. Astor.” She giggled before kissing him again, settling her down the bed, incredibly, utterly happy.