#my granny raised me more than my dad did

[eevylynn]

If life could just take a break and chill for a second, that'd be great.

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (26) Manipulate

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 26)

Summary: Rosie finds an unmarked box in her wardrobe. When John scolds himself for lacking as a parent, Rosie sets things straight.

Twenty-Six Years Old

Six months after my return to London, I was moving out again. The internship at the ministry of justice paid surprisingly well. I couldn’t help but think that a certain uncle had been using his manipulation skills again… In addition to my wage, the generous inheritance from Nana and Timothy’s income from his published novel, were more than sufficient to buy a decent flat in Stockwell. 

Nana had clearly wanted that 221 Baker Street was well looked after, and gifted it to her two boys, and insisted in her will that if Deidre, or Dee, as she preferred to be called, needed a home, 221A should be hers. And for the last two years, 221A had been occupied by Dee. My parents got along with her like a house on fire.

“It’s like having a younger version of Hudders down there,” Papa stated.

“Agreed. The sassiness runs in the family, I presume. Dee’s skills in the kitchen are sadly things she did not inherit from her aunt, though,” Dad said.

“Definitely not! She almost sat the flat on fire when she was boiling eggs,” Papa filled in.

***

Moving out the first time, had been poles apart to this move. That time I was going on an adventure, and I knew it was for just a period. When I moved in with Timothy, it was forever, and that was more bittersweet than I’d anticipated.

Moving to Paris, I had only taken clothes, some books, my laptop and the like. Stripping my room bare, was something entirely different. There were so many memories, and I knew I had to get rid of some of them because the flat wasn’t exactly big, and there were Timothy’s things to consider as well.

Over the next weeks I felt that I lived inside a cardboard box. They were everywhere, even downstairs to let me have some room to move around upstairs and leave the bed free to sleep in.

On the floor inside my wardrobe, I found an old box that had remained hidden behind clothes, rucksacks, shoes and a bag with blankets. It wasn’t marked and I couldn’t remember having placed it there. I opened the flaps and gasped in surprise.

“How are you getting on?” Dad called from the stairs and seconds later he entered my room.

I looked up at him with a stunned expression. When he saw the box, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed heavily.

“Right. I’d forgotten all about that one,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve failed to keep her memory alive for you, haven’t I?”

“Dad,” I scolded him. “You had far more important things to cope with when she died. Raising me with Papa is the greatest gift you could’ve given me. Never be sorry for that. I don’t remember her at all. From what I’ve gathered she did some horrible things to you both. No, stop. She did. I may not know the full extent of it, but it doesn’t matter that she was my mother. Remember what Papa said about extended and chosen family. They can be way better than the biological one. Not that I would want to replace you, mind.”

We both looked down at the photo of my mother and Dad on their wedding day. I didn’t recall when it had been replaced with the wedding photo of Dad and Papa. It felt strange and a bit eerie to look at Dad embracing another person like that. I took it out and placed it in the box that was going to the bins.

“Rosie!” Dad exclaimed, more out of shock than anything else.

“It’s wrong, Dad. I don’t need that. To me she’s the one who gave me life, but she was never in it when it mattered, and I’ve never missed having a mother. I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world having you and Papa as parents. You’ve done a great job, and uncle Myc, Nana, Molly, Granny, Pops, and uncle Greg have been brilliant carers as well. Now, what else is in here?”

I found Ted, still stained with tomato sauce, a white baby blanket with a bee pattern, tiny boxes containing a curl of my hair, my first tooth, a book where my growth, my first real meal, my first words, my first steps, my first trip, (to Barts), my favourite toys and books were painstakingly written down in Papa’s handwriting. My eyes filled with tears when I realised how much love lay behind those notes.

“He didn’t let me near that book with my horrible handwriting,” Dad said in a choked voice, clearly as emotional as me.

Another book caught my eye. The one uncle Greg had mentioned. A book with children’s names. It was worn, and I didn’t know whether that was from Papa searching for male names starting with a G, or my mother’s search for names meant for me.

“Did you…”

“No,” Dad cut me off. “She’d already decided on a name once we got back together. After…”

He didn’t have to finish that sentence, and I’m glad he stopped himself. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. 

I hadn’t told Timothy about her yet, but I knew I needed to. He would eventually ask. The lack of photos of her would ensure that. I reminded myself to ask uncle Myc how much I could reveal. Not that I knew more than half of it myself.

After I’d put the box aside, I leant into Dad where he sat beside me and placed my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around me and pulled me in for a hug.

“I’m so glad you decided to move back here with me after she died,” I murmured. “We would’ve been miserable without him.”

“Yeah, two years was enough for a lifetime,” Dad said and drew me closer, kissing the top of my head.

“I bet Papa is relieved that he can walk around in just a sheet now that I’m moving out for good,” I quipped to brighten the mood.

Dad chuckled and he was unable to hide the glint in his eyes at this prospect.

Also available on AO3

All the love to the other magnificent participants <3 Thanks to everyone for the endless support and especially to those who normally don't read parent!lock, but despite that are walking the extra mile. I'm in awe!

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies

[its--fandom--darling]

little bean - em x fem!reader

This is my submission to @oneforthemunny​‘s summertime writing game. I chose to do a wildcard 🃏 submission for cowboy eddie and sweet girl. I hope I did them justice and that everyone enjoys this sweet little story about dad!cowboy!eddie as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Pairing: Dad!Cowboy!Eddie Munson x Sweet Girl!Reader

@oneforthemunny​ @munsonology

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, reader being called little mama, afab reader, brief mention of car accident. please let me know if I’ve missed anything and I’ll update my list. (This isn’t edited. hopefully it’s all good. Enjoy!)

A/N: this is heavily inspired by personal experience with one of those ride and spring ponies that my sister and i had growing up. all header pictures are from pinterest, credit to the og owners of the photos. graphics by @firefly-graphics​

“Can you please uncover my eyes now?” you plead with your fiance as he guides you outside to see his latest surprise. You and Eddie had never really talked about having kids, always considering the many farm animals that you’d convinced him to adopt over the years as your pseudo-children. So when you’d found out that you were pregnant after a fender-bender, you and Eddie had the realization that you both wanted this little bean to be a part of your life. 

This brings you to now, 6 months into your pregnancy. The morning sickness had wrecked you for a while and your cravings had been intense and random. Pickles and peanut butter, sardines and fiddleheads, copious amounts of cheese doodles. But Eddie had taken everything in stride, making the 20 plus minute drive into town to hit the only 24 hour mini mart in the area whenever the urge for a midnight milkshake struck you. He’d truly been a saint, he’d always been good to you, treated you like a princess, but seeing you round with his child had unleashed another side of him, one that was incredibly tender. Without hesitation the two of you had decided to be surprised when the baby came, knowing that no matter what you had, it wouldn’t change the fact that you two were going to spoil, cherish and raise your little bean to be a kind person.  

“Just be patient for a second more, little mama. I don’t wanna spoil the surprise just yet,” he murmured, a grin evident in his voice. 

You huffed in fake annoyance, crossing your arms after the screen door, thwapped shut behind the two of you. 

“Alright, ready?” 

“Yes, Eds! The suspense is killing me!” you squeak, bringing your hands up to grab at your man’s calloused hands where they rested over your eyes. 

He chuckles as he lets his hands be pulled from your eyes. You blink a few times to adjust your vision before taking in his latest surprise. In your silence, your feel him lace his fingers with yours as you feel the familiar burn of tears in your eyes. 

“I know little bean won’t be able to use it for a while after they’ve made their grand entrance, but it was the last one in the store and sweet girl, I just couldn’t resist.”

You turn and kiss him softly. “It’s perfect, I love it.”

Sitting on the front porch is a ride and spring horse, almost identical to the one that you’d described to Eddie. You’d been telling him how, despite being a city girl, had spent many of your earliest summers of childhood at your grandparents. They lived in the countryside in a big white farmhouse style house.  Your grandfather was always a fan of black and white westerns, so you’d watched more than your fair share while your granny took her afternoon nap. You’d expressed to Eddie that those were some of your favorite childhood memories, especially when you’d arrived one day to find a beautiful chestnut colored ride and spring pony on your grandparents front lawn. The image of his sweet girl as child with little pigtails and her grandfather’s cowboy hat slipping down over her eyes as she bounced away the afternoon on that horse had made his heart clench. 

“Really? It isn’t too much? I know that I’ve been spoiling little bean and they ain’t even arrived yet but…”

You cut him off with a sweet kiss, cupping the back of his neck with your free hand and pouring your love and appreciation into the kiss. “It’s perfect,” you repeat as your lips part and he breaks into a grin as you bump your nose against his affectionately. “Thank you, for the horse and for taking care of me and bean. Thank you for listening to me and remembering those little details I shared with you.”

He grins wider, eyes crinkling with it. “It’s my pleasure, sweet girl. You two are my whole world.”

You grin at him, “You forgot about Medusa, can’t have her feeling left out now.” 

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at you, “Well, you’re right about that, sweet girl.”

You kiss him again. “Always am, aren’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll give you most of the time, little mama.”

You smirk up at him, “I’ll take it. Now come on and show me what else you got.”

He furrows his brow at you, “What are you talking about?”

“I just know you didn’t leave the store with just that toy, lay it on me, what else did you get?” 

He sighs, “You know me far too well, sweet girl.”

“It’s because I love ya handsome, now show me the goods.”

He chuckles as you settle on the porch swing he’d installed for you when you’d first moved in with him. “I’ll get the bag.”

You giggle and kick your feet up resting your hands on your bump, stroking your thumb over it tenderly as Eddie ran to the pick up to grab the rest of his haul. As you watched him go through everything that he picked up for your future child, you knew that there was no way that you would wanna do this with anyone but your Eddie. 

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(Read more sacrifice)

[sigynsilica]

Conservatives be like "tHey'Re tRyiNg tO dEcOnStrUcT tHe fAmiLy uNiT"

Yes. Exactly. That is exactly my goal in life.

Then they be like "wElL yOu mUsT wAnT tHe wOrLd tO bE fUlL oF siNgLe pAreNtS"

No

You think it's LESS family I want? You have it backwards. It's MORE.

Let me explain.

One of the most integral parts of humanity is community. Humans are pack animals. We do better in groups, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Everything humans have accomplished, they did via teamwork.

This is a leading reason why I'm a socialist, because Capitalism is, by definition, the advancement of the individual over the collective. That's a concept that goes against human nature. Capitalism gives credit to one person for what a team of people did, and allows that one person to decide for themself what portions of the benefits of creating something goes to who. This despite the fact that the creation would not and could not be possible without the whole team of people. Even if one person creates one thing, they could not do it without materials harvested or tools invented or concepts thought of by someone else. Somewhere down the line, someone was pushing the buttons.

It's a very isolationist way of thinking, to claim that a CEO deserves more money for producing a product than the assembly line workers who actually made the thing.

This mindset has then been projected onto basically every single aspect of American life. (I can't speak for other countries because I've never been anywhere else)

People are their own human, and that means they can't ask for help. Collaboration is a myth, and the credit for anything really only goes to the head of the endeavor.

Enter the nuclear family.

One mom, one dad, and an assortment of children. The mom stays home and raises the kiddos and cleans the house and makes sure everyone has clean underwear and also finds time for sanity somewhere, while the dad works his butt off at a crappy corporate hellhole of a job. Add in some fundamental Christianity, because America Is A Christian Nation apparently, and you have pressure to homeschool. This only further enforces the isolation, the individual, the Doing Everything By Yourself as the only way to go.

This is why so many conservatives and fundamentalists like the Duggars so much. Think of it! Twenty homeschooled fundamentalist Baptist children, all raised to believe in God, while the dad does Politics and Mission Stuff at the church and the mom homeschools All of them.

And of course you have friends, right? But woe upon thee if your house isn't spick-and-span or the children are being disruptive when they come over. They can't see your mess. They can't see your imperfections. Nobody actually goes to their neighbors to ask for a cup of sugar. You should buy your own sugar. Jeez.

In this mindset and mentality, if your children are "unruly", that reflects badly on you as a parent. Your children are seen as an extension of yourself, and if you don't have everything in your life put together, you're getting judged by randos in the grocery store, now. If both parents need to work, just send your kid to the local daycare. What's that? You can't afford daycare? Hire a babysitter. What's that? You can't afford a babysitter? Hm. More judgement. Get the kid's granny to watch them or something.

So here's the facts. The more adults a child has in their life who show them support and are a safe environment for the child, the more the child will be likely to succeed in their adult life.

And by that definition, yes. I want to destroy the family unit. I want it gone.

The notion that if the two people who were directly responsible for the child's existence can't adequately provide for their child, that's it's a moral failing on their part? That's bullshit. I want it gone. If you need help raising a child, so does everyone else, and it should be socially okay to reach out to a trusted member of your community for help. It should also be socially okay for someone who you trust to want to care for a child with no financial compensation. Children are delightful.

Taking care of a child is hard work. Someone has to be on call 100% of the time for at least the first ten years of that kid's life.

Of course, in making the decision to have children, a parent should consider their capability of caring for the kid. But it shouldn't be their capability of caring for a kid ALONE. No one should have to raise a child alone.

Every parent should have a full support system to fall back on. Every person, let alone parent, should have a community of people who would be willing to help care for other people in their community, especially vulnerable people in that community, like children.

This is what I mean when I say I do want to destroy the family unit. I don't want any child to have to grow up in an environment where the only people who feel responsible for their safety are their parents.

Of course parents are responsible for a kid's safety, more than any other people on the planet, because the parents were the ones who chose to bring the kid into the world.

But they are not the only ones. They should not be alone. There should be no more talk of "well, your parents ought to teach you how to behave," because children learn from everything and everyone around them. You can't stop that. Not even if you try.

The thing is, parents should not, and cannot be the ultimate authority on life for their kids. My parents tried, while simultaneously insisting they weren't perfect, but if you grow up thinking only two people who are Biblically one person are the only ones who are right about things, you're going to have a lot of unlearning to do, no matter who those people are.

Humans, all of us, have a responsibility to look out for each other. Community is our greatest strength, and it's founded on the principle of all of us in a community having each other's backs.

So no more Two Heterosexual People being an island and a solitary beacon of what a family is supposed to be. A family is a community, and we all look out for each other. We all make sure we're safe and we have what we need to live. And we all teach each other things about how the world is.

[countrymusiclover]

16 - Meeting the Parents

Princess Red Thief

Part 17

Tag list - just ask to be added @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35

“Are you sure we should be doing this, Eve. I mean surely your parents would rather spend time together alone after being separated for 28 years. Maybe we should do this in say two months.” Rumple and I were getting out of the car outside my parents place.

Laying my arms on top of his old fashioned car I could sense that something was up with him. “Rumple, what is going on with you?”

“Nothing is going on. I just think it’s far too soon and we should give them some space to get reacquainted.” He waved his hands around yet I could hear the nervousness in his voice.

Raising a brow at him I challenged his words. “So you don’t think they could get reacquainted with one another and meet their grandchildren at the exact same time hmm?”

“They weren’t as lucky as us. They didn’t have a secret way to wake from the curse like we did.” He changed the subject bringing up our reunion months before Emma finally broke the evil queen's curse.

Hitting my hands on top of the car I snapped playfully. “Rumplestilskin I know you’re lying to me.”

“I am not. Are you hungry? We should go get burgers at Granny’s.” He did his best to distract me with food.

Stepping around the front of the car I got up in his face as best as I could since he was slightly taller than me. His gaze lowered down onto mine when I hit his chest gently. “You have exactly five minutes to tell me what is bothering you before I start ticking you.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Rumple clicked his tongue.

Glaring at the dark one I knew I’d get something out of him. He was definitely keeping something from me and I needed to know what it was he didn’t want to tell me. “Rumple, what won’t you tell me? And don’t lie, I know you are hiding something from me.”

“Eve-“

I cut him off, throwing my arms away from my sides. “Rumple!”

“I’m terrified your parents aren’t going to like me!”

Blinking my eyes a couple of times I raised my hands up to his shoulders squeezing them gently. “You have nothing to worry about. Yes, my parents know of you making deals and things. But they also know how you helped me with my powers. You'll be just fine, I promise.”

“Maybe your right - or wrong what if we just-”

Snapping my fingers, his hand froze on the car door handle. “Prohibere.”

“Everly.” He growled underneath his breath.

“Promise you won't try and run and then I'll release you.” His eyes looked into mine giving me the answer. He was more powerful than me of course but there were moments where I caught him off guard like now. Snapping my fingers a second time he was unfrozen, shaking his head at me where we finally walked up carrying one child in each of our arms.

Knocking on their front door it opened revealing my mother standing at the threshold. “Everly! Rumplestilskin, come in both of you.”

“Thank you for agreeing to this, mom. I know it must be difficult for you and - dad, where did you get that from?” Rounding the corner I halted in my steps seeing my father Fredrick standing in front of the fireplace with a loaded crossbow in his hands.

He bared his teeth moving one finger on the trigger. “I refuse to let the Dark One inside my house without some form of protection.”

“It would take much more than a pointy stick to kill me, dearie.” Rumple teased him, holding his son Robin in his arms.

Bouncing Valerie in my arms I slumped my shoulders knowing my father had good intentions. “Can we please not resort to violence. We all have to remember that he is the father of your grandchildren regardless of the history we have with him individually. Meaning father put down the crossbow please.”

“What is this about a crossbow?” My mother Abigail came from the kitchen gasping and scolding her lover with a hand on her hip. “Frederick, put the weapon down. We are peaceful people.”

Rumple cocked his head to the side. “He’d also never win against me in a fight.”

“Rumple.” I sent him a glare.

He cleared his throat knowing he’d pay for it later if he kept challenging my father. “Alright Everly, Fredrick I swear I won’t hurt anyone in your family so long as you give me the same courtesy. Do we have a deal?”

“I suppose we do.” He didn’t lower the weapon until I raised a brow at him.

“Father, the crossbow.”

“Fine, fine.” He finally lowered the weapon sitting down on the fireplace with it right beside his leg watching me and the Dark One.

Mom comes behind Rumple scooping Robin from his arms sitting down on the living room coach waiting for us to join her. “Now that that’s settled, come sit. I have cookies in the oven for later. Because right now we have some questions for you two.”

“Ask away. What do you want to know?”

Father didn’t waste a second before making the conversation tense again. “Does he plan on killing you to take whatever magical abilities you have inside of you?”

“Dad!”

“Frederick!” Mom scolded him at the same time as me.

Rumple rose to his feet baring his teeth at my father in defense of what he had just accused him of doing. “How dare you accuse me of hurting her. She likely would’ve accidentally killed all of you if I hadn’t taught her how to control it!”

“Rumple, don’t. Immobi - gah!” Raising my right hand I went to use a more powerful freeze spell on him until I felt pain from the little hand touching my other arm.

Valerie’s tiny hand was colored a bright red sitting on part of my arm that she was touching. “Everly!” Rumple gasped picking up our daughter from my arms while I felt my eyelids getting heavy and my head gently collapsed onto one of the couch pillows blacking out.

“Rumple, where’s your dagger?” I questioned him carrying a sword in my right hand pacing outside the circle that had four different colors of magical objects all combined together in the center.

Rumple was standing in one of the corners with his right hand raised towards me in defense. “In Zelena’s grasp. You know she’ll make me hurt our children if they fail.”

“Momma?” Glancing over at my children I saw a young girl who could only be Valerie standing beside her little brother at the entrance of the barn we were all in.

I muttered under my breath to the twins. “Zelena has the knife, invisique say it.”

“Invisique.” The pair joined hands touching the ground with their freehands drawing magic and completely disappearing.

I barely got the chance to smile at my children using magic before I felt a tightness around my throat. “Rum - Rumple.” I gasped focusing my gaze back on him with my freehand clawing at my neck for air.

“I’m sorry, Eve. I have no choice.” Rumple’s eyes were filled with tears before I saw my eyes rolling in the back of my head about everything starting to go black.

Shooting my eyes opened I raised my head up in defense when someone touched my shoulder. Raising my hand upward with a fireball burning from it the person winced lightly at the flames touching their hand. “Incendia! Rumple?”

“Ah, Eve.” He winced drawing his hand away from me seeing the burn marks fading away as quickly as they appeared.

Closing my palm the flames died out once I realized where I truly was. “I hurt you. I - I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, I know , I know you’d never hurt me without a valid reason. Now what happened to you, lass. You blacked out. Was it because of Valerie?” He asked me a few questions back to back, rubbing a hand down my forearm.

Hugging my knees up against my chest I sucked in a breath trying to recall whatever I had just seen. “We were in a barn fighting each other. Our children were - uh - a little older. Someone had your dagger. Wh - where’s our kids and my parents?”

“Your father went to call 911. Your mother is settling the kids down since Robin was being fussy after seeing you collapse.” He slowly rose to his feet with his cane about to leave. “I’ll go tell them you’re awake.”

Snagging his wrist I caught him before he could leave, meeting his deep gaze. “Rumple, wait. Do you um - do you know a woman named Zelena?”

“No, I don’t. Don’t worry about whatever you saw. I’ll be right back I promise.” He leaned down kissing my forehead leaving for a second while I was left to panic about whatever the hell I had just seen.

[freezingwhitefire]

No idea why but apparently the parents of the Links have been on my mind tonight so I wrote a little thing for my au... not including the newest Link I'm thinking about adding.

"So Legend, your mother died in a storm and your father died because of an illness, right?"

"That's right." The Skyloftian nodded. He turned a carving he was working on to see an angle of it better.

"What about you, Dysmas?" Fauna asked, his eyes bright with curiosity for something he himself was missing.

"Me? Well... my parents are still alive. I thought for a while that I killed them on accident by releasing some sort of deity that had been laid to rest, but they're fine and I saw them a few months back."

"Wow, that sounds much cooler than they vanished into the night at sea." Time commented, he saw the way the others turned to look at him and nodded. 'Yep! Granny says that they went out on the sea one night and just disappeared. There was a storm early the next morning so they probably sunk."

"That's horrible."

"It's life, but if it's so bad, what about you Sage?"

"Hmm, my mother died during my birth. My father... he was a knight, I wanted to be like him for a bit but I saw how that worried my uncle so I decided to grow an orchard instead."

"Ah, so that's why you have so many trees around!" Hope exclaimed delighted.

"It is." Sage nodded and gave Hope a small grin. "What about you?"

"No idea, I just know my mother was part fairy and my father was originally from Hyrule. They left it but I wanted to go back and see the land there so I did and well..."

"Ended up a hero?" Prism asked.

Hope nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he did so. "Honestly I don't even know if they're alive or not, it's been so long."

"You should visit when you get the chance." Prism suggested and Hope nodded, happy for the suggestion. "My father is a Captain, he thinks I'm reckless. My mother... she died within a couple of weeks of being thrown from a horse."

"Sounds like my dad." Horus commented, pausing in his sketching. The pencil he held hovered over the paper as he looked at them. He grinned then and shrugged. "Next time if we can we should visit my mom, she makes the best pies."

"That does sound good!" Fauna agreed readily.

Storm wanted to laugh at his enthusiasm, something the others shared too, he didn't because he felt the others look at him and knew he was next to be questioned. Sure enough Fauna turned a pleading look at him and he sighed, a rueful smile on his face.

"My parents are both dead. My mother died taking me to a Guardian Spirit so it could raise me, and my father was executed as a traitor during a civil war... they were jumping at shadows a bit at the time since they later discovered that he was not a traitor and was gathering information to keep others safe."

"I take it back, yours is not the worst story Time, Storm's is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you can go back to making up tales of giant octoroks and leave telling tragedies to Storm, he lived through more."

Storm did laugh at that because it was true, and yet they hadn't heard more than a small handful of those tragedies.

[colleenmurphy]

"You've got to be kidding me, Mary Colleen!"

The pointed look from the older brunette told her younger mirror image it was best to back peddle and apologize for calling her anything but Mom.

"It's Mom! You didn't birth her or procreate with her so don't go using her name like that."

A voice called from upstairs, Minnie Murphy was awake and one with the world and from the sounds of it Sarah's Granny was acting as her moral compass.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

Sarah had raised her head enough from examining her shoes to see that her mother had actually rolled her own eyes at Minnie's voice before throwing her hands up and sitting down at the kitchen island. Her head in her hands she sighed.

"Would it have been easier for me to tell you that your Dad was a sperm donor? Because I can't do that to myself or to him, it's not fair to him Sarah. He would have been with us if things had gone differently."

Sarah was itching to know just what her mother was talking about but Minnie had to make her grand entrance into the kitchen, all swinging pastel shawls and clicking beads and patchouli. There standing next to her mother her Gran they looked some sort of reverse cameo or something. Col kept her hair long and dark and usually pulled up in some sort of way since she worked at the bar. Minnie kept hers long but wore it piled atop her head like some sort of ash blonde cotton candy confection.

"You guys did live together. It was that massive place..."

A sharp look from Colleen and a "Ma." was all it took to quiet Gran.

"I have a right to know! I'm 18 years old I'm not a little kid anymore!"

It was all Col had to do to keep herself together. She had long known that this would be coming, she had lied to herself about how she would handle it. She had saved scrapbook and photo album after photo album. She was sure there was some video somewhere and when Sarah had been very small up until she'd just started kindergarten He had called and even stopped in but only after they were sure she was asleep. The memories of that night, just grabbing her bags and keys and Sarah and making a run for it because Frank Flannery had cost them dearly.

"It's my r-.."

If Col had to hear that it as her 'given right' one more time her head might explode. Her heart was racing and her mind felt muddy and slow. It was like that night all over again. Taking another drag she held it and exhaled along with her birth name.

"Sarah Marie Miller."

That and that look that her mother had was all it took to shut her up right quick, as her granddad Jimmy used to say. Sarah watched as Colleen puffed lightly on a hand rolled cigarette, the only kind she smoked, and shared a conspiring look with Minnie and gently nudged the stool next to her out so Sarah could sit down. Twin sphinx cats with hooded eyes the same shade of blue green and high cheek bones.

"But my...my last name's Murphy.."

"You, my dear darling daughter are most certainly a Miller. Sit down, you're going to want to."

Another drag before she held it out to Sarah, who had the good sense to look shocked and shake her head.

"You think I don't know when you've been hitting my stash? C'mon, it's a really long story. Ma....should I call Helene or Harvey about this?"

Minnie, who had busied herself in getting the required margarita ingredients thought for a moment before nodding.

"I've already got extra glasses down and there's cheesecake in the fridge."

Relenting Sarah took a tiny hit from the joint offered to her and was sucker punched when it hit her lungs. Mom's stuff had gotten stronger or this was entirely different herb. Come to think of it this did look much more dark than what was usually found in that nifty wooden box above Col's bookcase in her bedroom. Granny was treating this like some sort of party or something and Mom was steps away from having a full blown panic attack. Getting up Sarah made towards the hall before stopping to ask.

"Can I call her? Please?"

Col raised her eyebrows and nodded before hiccuping and looking up at the ceiling trying to avoid Sarah's gaze. Her mother never cried in front of her until this moment. Reaching out her arms she leaned towards her mother and enveloped her in a tight hug.

So this was what it was like to give safety?

All those times Sarah had needed her Colleen had been there through it all. She'd worked two jobs and then taken over the family tavern. She had put Sarah through school and helped her grow into her own person allowing her make choices and mistakes.

"I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you...I just wanted to keep you safe..."

Running a hand over her mother's long dark hair which had slipped from her claw clip and noticed the thick threads of silver that had managed to weave their way through Cols temples and down to the very ends.

'Just wanted to keep you safe.'

Echoed through Sarah's mind as she thought back to all the times that her mother had busted into her bedroom when the bad dreams came, or school had her worried or someone was picking on her. Colleen was only steps away and sometimes, like with that older guy from school, she threw a punch or two to put them in their place.

"Mom...You've done nothing but keep me safer than Fort Knox."

Hugging Colleen tighter Sarah made a vow to herself that she'd be the kind of parent she'd had. A thought struck her. Both of her parents had loved her so much they had completely changed their dynamic and communicated long-distance undercover for her. How many of her friends had that?

"What's his name?"

A snuffling smile as Col composed herself for a moment.

"Bruce."

Running off towards the phone Sarah smiled as she dialed the number she had remembered as easily as her home phone or the bar.

"Aunt Helene? Would you like to come over? Mom's going to tell me about Bruce and she thinks you should be here. I think so too."

A cackle from the kitchen startled her as Minnie laughed.

"Keylime cheesecake!"

"Do you like lime?"

[kronoose]

Info dumping about the residents of Luc's tower only one of which actually participates in the hunt regularly

Two of which had actual names I didn't write them down tho so they're still their nickname

Doc is getting his own post because he needs an bundle of extra tw and Milton is unimportant

Firstly we've got cooky friendly lesbian granny who can and will kick your ass for messing with her domain(the kitchen) she is a mom figure to Luc and the only one who can full name him they met shortly after he'd joined the Duke gang. She has a goth cottage core (look it up it's so pretty) girlfriend who's a florists she doesn't know cooky works for a serial killer but she does know the adults of the tower they car pool to the gay bar and kink club

Cooky was married to a gay man in her youth they couldn't conceive together due to fertility issues on both sides and very limited sex they split after he came out to her they're still friends in one au said husband is my teacher OC in that au they're besties like they're both incharge of a bunch of queer dumbass's and vent to eachother about their kids

She grows weed and makes adult treats on Fridays this has lead to many goofy lil bits in my fic she doesn't often join in the hunt but occasionally she will just to de stress

Next is Seth aroace sloth Boi they're non-binary

They wear lens less glasses like Connie in Steven universe

They killed their own father because he was a piece of shit this was very much hyped up by all the other named charecters.

They are the towers unofficial welcoming committee

They do not participate in the hunt they will participate in the pre and post hunt hype fest tho then he takes a nap

Seth can and will fall asleep in the most jump scare positions and places

Next the only OC I've never been able to pic crew

Ben the mom of the tower and everyones hype man. Ben is part bear and I believe he was once a bear in the 2sLGBTQ way but I couldn't find an answer conclusively enough if other people under the queer umbrella could use the term or if it was just gays so he's just the mama bear in the Physical sense

Ben is the second successful transformation Luc did they're child hood friends they briefly dated but realized they were just doing everything the same except with more kisses and we're like nah bro friends only

Ben is demibi ace

Ben is the only one I still use a face claim for

He was the one to bring Dani and Luc to the Duke gang

His dad 'vanished' the day after Ben came out to him it didn't go well Luc doesn't take well to his family being hurt his dad was doc's first live test for his skin

Ben is the only one who knows what happened to Luc's eye other than Dani

Next Jules the only named child in the tower

My brain was like what if the bigots got confronted with their child self as I was listening to Nightcore and I was like yes that anime person shall be them

Jules has a different name for each set of pronouns they use (he Julian/she Julia/they Jules)

They were born in the tower and home schooled there father was a werewolf mother was a shape Shifter

They were sent to normal school and promptly expelled for figthing and arson

The figthing was self defense the arson was for funsies

They can turn into child versions of people

They have not killed yet

Both of their parents fucking bounced so Jules was communally raised

Damian is Luc's demon who he summoned by accident the summoning was intentional he just got the wrong demon

Damian is kinda bassed off the black Butler demons

Damian is Demiace realizing both labels while listening to people gossip about their love lives and being like that's not me

[inthequicksand]

Beginning

My story begins in 1978, in the town of Johnstone, where my mother and father met. Their dalliance led to my conception—a seemingly simple beginning, but one layered with complexities from the families they came from.

My mother, a McGhee, came from a Catholic family. My father, a McIntyre, belonged to a Protestant family. At the time, this difference carried more weight than you might think, a subtle but significant undertone that influenced relationships and decisions.

My mother was the youngest of four siblings, with two brothers and a sister, all older than her. Their father passed away when my mother was just a little girl, leaving her as the last child at home with my grandmother, Margaret Mary McGhee—known to me as Granny McGhee. Her older siblings eventually moved down to London, leaving my mother and Granny McGhee to hold down the fort in Johnstone.

My father’s upbringing was different. An only child, he was raised by his mother, Betty, and his father, Jimmy. To me, they were simply Granny Betty and Grampa, pillars of the McIntyre side of my story.

My parents married in June 1978, just a few months before I was born that September. Their first home together was a council house that my father had been living in after his grandmother, Granny Nichols, passed away. It wasn’t an inheritance in the traditional sense, but he stayed on in the house, making it their starting point. Eventually, they moved to their own council house just up the road.

From the beginning, their relationship was anything but smooth. My father struggled with a drinking problem, and my mother faced significant mental health challenges. These difficulties took their toll, and by 1981, the year my sister was born, their marriage had ended in divorce.

At the time, divorce carried a heavy social stigma, particularly for a strict Catholic family like my mother’s. I imagine it must have been hard for Granny McGhee to reconcile her values with the reality of what was happening, but it was the path they had to take.

Watchful

What did I know about my own life then? Very little. As a young child, I was surrounded by my family, who were my whole world. Everything felt normal because it was all I knew. But there were moments when frightening things shattered that bubble of blissful ignorance.

My dad’s drinking and my mother’s mental health issues often led to very violent fights. These moments cut through my innocence, and I became what I believe is now called "a watchful child." I was always on alert, hyper-aware of the mood in the house, the tension in the air, and the dangers that came with it.

One memory stands out vividly. My mother, frustrated with me constantly getting out of bed, began tying me into my bed with reins. But one night, when I wasn’t restrained, I wandered downstairs during a fight. My father was holding my mother down on the floor, bashing her head with his working boots. In a panic, I ran across the carpet to save her, only to burn my foot on a cigarette left in an ashtray on the floor.

It’s strange how that small injury is probably the only reason I remember the incident so clearly. But it stuck with me, leaving an impact I still feel today. Moments like that took away my sense of safety and shaped the way I saw the world—one where I had to be alert, ready, and responsible in ways a child shouldn’t have to be.

[srhhrtmn21222]

Step Eight - Making Our List

List the people I've harmed and the specific ways I harmed each one.

(Names changed for confidentiality)

*Mom & Dad - I regularly lied about where I was and who I was with. I also borrowed money under false pretenses. When offered help, I denied that I needed any.

*My sister - I also lied about who I was with, where I was, and what the money I was borrowing was for.

*My husband - I brought dope into his house. Although he said he didn't mind, I shouldn't have brought it around. He also let me borrow money for it during the early stages of our relationship. He also was around while I was getting sober, dealing with the emotional backlash that shouldn't have been taken out on him.

*My daughter - Although she will (hopefully) never experience that part of me, there's other things she will endure as being a daughter of a former addict. Things such as an over-protective mother, questioning her friends' motives, irritability during my cravings, and so much more than I can currently think of.

*Cici - I broke her trust by using dope while taking care of her child. Although she knew about my using, she did not approve of my using while her daughter was in my care. I may not have used with B in the room, but I also wasn't sober when I was being her provider.

*Jagerbomb - While we were together I regularly lied about who I was with and what I was doing when I would be late for our plans. I also would spontaneously cancel plans with her to see a guy I was messing around with (that she knew about).

*Robert - When we were together, I cheated on him (with his best friend) after telling him I would wait for him to get out of jail. I also lied about what I was doing and who I was with during this time. During the short time that we were sober together, I constantly would bring up wanting to use and asking if we could.

*Daniel - I should have ended my relationship (earlier) with Robert. I was afraid of how Robert would react. Because of this, I inadvertently got Daniel hurt. I believed a lie and he got beaten up when we were going to give Robert a ride. He also asked me many times if we could get sober. He mentioned a few times that he would only use because he knew I wanted to.

*My granny - I would cause her to worry about me when I would stay out late at night (or even the few times I stayed out all night, and the one time I was gone for more than 24 hours). She would stay up late, waiting for me to come home. When she went to bed, she'd leave the light on and door unlocked for me (until I told her to start locking the doors and I'd use my key). She would even make sure I had leftovers to eat in the stove.

*Church & Extended family - I betrayed everyone's trust that was near to me. For the longest, I couldn't do anything without being high. So many of them raised me to make better choices. Some even begged me to. When confronted, I either denied the truth, or even played dumb about it.

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (21) Fire

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 21)

Summary: Rosie muses about her peculiar family, and gets invited/ordered to come to the pub.

Twenty-One Years Old

My family wasn’t exactly what you would call average or normal, but as Dad and Papa constantly pointed out: who wants normal. Certainly, none of us. Being an only child and without any cousins, I was mostly exposed to adults outside school. By now, I think you can agree that that wasn’t as boring as it sounded.

Uncle Myc made sure that our small family was extended when he and uncle Greg finally realised that what they had was too precious to ignore. 

Papa tried to warn the DI in his normally dramatic flair.

“You know this is playing with fire, Gavin? Falling for a Holmes, means there’s no escape. You’ll be trapped for life, and our love is fierce and protective. A bit like that dragon. John, which film was it?”

“The Hobbit,” Dad answered and reassured uncle Greg that he had nothing to fear. “Deep down, they’re as fluffy as new-born kittens.”

This got him glares that brave men would’ve flinched under, but Dad only laughed and gave Papa a kiss on the forehead and uncle Myc a pat on the shoulder. No one knew how to deal with the Holmes brothers like my Dad.

Of course, this didn’t stop Papa’s attempts to abuse uncle Greg’s name but probably increased it. From that day, every name in the book was put to good use. Dad told him he was being childish, but Dad’s poker face in such matters was laughable at best, so he fooled no one. My uncles just rolled their eyes, knowing that arguing with Papa would accomplish absolutely nothing.

The less said about my aunts, the better, but I’m not exactly one who’s able to keep my mouth shut, am I... 

Aunt Harry, the one who was still alive, just barely, by the state of her liver, according to Dad, another one playing with fire, had never been a part of my life. Just like Papa’s deranged and murderous sister, thank God. Dad gave Harry an ultimatum after we moved to Baker Street; get help to get sober or stay away. It sounds harsh, doesn’t it? I had started school when I learned of her existence. We got an assignment to make a family tree.

“Extended and chosen family can also be included,” our teacher told us.

I had no idea what she was talking about, and neither did my friends, so I turned to my main source of information, my parents.

When Dad told me he had a sister, dozens of questions were instantly on the tip of my tongue, but he cut me off before I could utter any of them.

“She’s only my sister by biology, not by heart. You can put her name on the family tree if you like, but she’s sadly not interested in switching the bottle for family.”

“What Dad means, is that the biological part doesn’t always matter. Chosen and extended family can be just as good, sometimes even better,” Papa explained.

***

I found it comforting when uncle Greg moved in with uncle Myc, because the older I got, the more I worried about uncle Myc’s solitary life. He deserved to be loved by others, not just his family. 

The pair were even more peculiar than Dad and Papa. Dad and uncle Greg were much more similar, coming from the same upbringing and social class, while uncle Myc and Papa were posh gits. (Dad and uncle Greg’s words.) But still, they fitted together, just like Dad and Papa.

And where did that leave me? Somewhere in the middle, I guess. I wasn’t really that exposed to the upper classes. That was uncle Myc’s area. At least in the connection with his job. I had the advantage of being raised by people of both societies, though, so I coped better at posh events than Dad for example. Granny and Pops were quite down-to-earth people, who obviously rose to the occasion if need be.

***

Uncle Myc was unable to deny the love of his life anything, but he drew the line when it came to pub quiz nights. He didn’t budge a millimetre when uncle Greg tried to flatter him into participating.

“Myc, love. You would ensure that my team won the whole shebang. At least when the questions are about politics, language, history, mathematics et cetera.”

“Gregory, mon cher,” uncle Myc said softly and arched an eyebrow.

Uncle Greg admitted defeat and turned to me. I was twenty-one, drank alcohol on occasion, and was above average intelligence. Three good reasons to join the team apparently.

***

“So, do I call you uncle, Greg, or Lestrade?” I inquired before we entered the pub.

“Just avoid Gaylord and Grimmwolf,” he deadpanned.

“Those are his latest then?” I giggled.

“John said he looked up obscure ones online when he’d used up all the names in the book he found among Mary’s things.”

“Sounds like Papa,” I replied.

I had seen the book now and again, but I never knew it once belonged to my mother.

Luckily for everyone involved, Philip Anderson was no longer a part of uncle’s team Division. Sally Donovan was, but she and Papa had long since buried the hatchet, and she welcomed me quite civilly.

Uncle Greg mocked me the entire evening for my choice of drink. 

“Sour beer has nothing to do with beer in my opinion,” he scolded looking disgusted at my pink brew.

“I don’t mind what you call it. Your Guinness looks more like tar than beer to me, so I guess we have to agree to disagree,” I retorted. “Now, do you know the answer to the fifth question or not?”

“You’re a good mix of Watson, Holmes, and yourself,” Sally told me after that.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I said. “Thank you. I take that as a compliment, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. That was the intention. They’re…um…good men and are evidently skilled at parenting. I’ll obviously deny it if I’m ever confronted with this,” she murmured.

Uncle Greg placed another glass of the “undrinkable” beer in front of me and gave Sally’s shoulder a pat.

“Getting sentimental on my, Sally?” he inquired with a smile.

“Hardly,” she scoffed and headed for the bar, but her soft expression gave her game away.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies

[kimlovestowrite]

Robyn Campbell

16

—

I sit in the backseat of my father's truck, just beside my older brother.

We're going to visit our grandparents in Inglewood and I'm not looking forward to it. I love my family—but sometimes they could be too much.

They think since I'm "young" I don't deserve privacy. And they're also old, strongly opinionated, and ignorant, having a conversation with them is like talking to a wall.

And my parents are no better, being the youngest is honestly the worst, it's like they don't care anymore. We never talk, all they worry about is how my brother is in college and he's an athlete.

To them, I'm just their daughter, they don't even acknowledge me unless I'm causing trouble which rarely happens.

Maybe if I didn't get talked over all the time I'd talk more. What I say doesn't even matter to anyone...

I look out the window and at the busy city, listening to music in my headphones.

"We're here!!" My annoying stepmother calls out, she was cool when we first met, but I guess that was just the first couple weeks.

I take one of my AirPods out, placing them back into the case and stuffing them into my tote bag before turning it down to where I can hear, and placing my phone in there too.

I look out of the window to see their huge, old money house. I guess we'll be staying here for the week.

They didn't even let me bring my cat.

I groan quietly as I open the truck door, hoping out after everyone else.

"Okay kids, I want yall to be the best yall can be to granny and grandpa, they need memories with you guys," my dad says.

"Doesn't she have dementia?" My brother asks joking, I'm way more respectful than him.

I drown them out as we approach the front door.

The front door opens and my grandparents stand there, smiling widely.

"Hey my babies!" My grandma says, pulling us both into a hug.

She smells like honeydew, as usual.

I flash a respectful smile, "hey grandma,"

"Wassup," my brother says.

I roll my eyes.

—

We all sit at the dinner table, I just know this is gonna go how it always does.

I take a few bites of my food, trying to avoid contact with anyone.

"Robyn baby?" My grandma says.

I smile, looking up. "Yes grandma?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?" She asks.

My eyebrows raise, "No,"

She hums, "I hope you don't have a little girlfriend, that's a sin baby. And I don't want anyone in this family going to hell for something so nasty. Liking girls is disgusting and sinful."

My eyebrows furrow, "Oh no, of course not," I laugh slightly.

Liking girls is definitely wrong, and I still feel guilty for kissing one...

But I can't help but think about her all the time, why'd she come to that beach? Why do I never see her there anymore?

How did she get so many tattoos?

Does she like girls? If she does I won't judge her. I would never judge someone like my family does.

"I heard the neighbors daughter likes girls," she says, shaking her head.

"That's a damn shame," my dad says, "I don't know what I'd do if my daughter decided to sin like that,"

"Robyn, I want you to stay away from that girl," my grandpa adds.

How can they be christians and be so ignorant and rude.

I place my fork onto my plate, tired of listening to them.

I smile, "I think I left my medicine in the car," I say, "can I go get it?"

My stepmother nods, "The car is unlocked,"

I excuse myself from the table and bring my tote bag, going outside for some fresh air. I love nature, and I'd stay out here all day if I could.

I have my medicine already, I just don't wanna be in there. Maybe I should sit down and clear my mind.

I lay on the hot concrete, looking up at the light blue sky.

My mind wanders, and I can't stop thinking about that girl. She was gorgeous, from her dark curly hair to her white air forces.

I can't stop thinking about the moment we shared, how passionate we got.

I feel someone touch my shoulder, causing me to jump out of my own world.

My mouth falls open as I stare into her chocolate eyes. She's smiling, flashing her same gold grill.

"Do you remember me?" She asks.

I nod, "yeah," I swallow awkwardly as I sit up.

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

My eyebrows furrow, "This is my grandparents house," I say.

"Oh," she smiles.

"What are you doing here?"

"My parents kinda forced me to move," she says, looking away.

My eyebrows raise, "really?"

She nods, "mhm, but they're gone for the week, wanna come over?"

My eyebrows shoot up, "Yeah, actually."

She smiles, gently taking my hand as I use my other one to grab my tote bag. "Boring grandparents huh?" She asks.

"Even worse," I roll my eyes as I follow her to her house.

"How?" She asks.

"You don't wanna know," I laugh.

She hums, opening the front door and letting me in before closing it.

"Follow me," she says, leading me into what I'm guessing is her bedroom.

Her bedroom is perfect for her, from the music posters to the low light and The Weeknd playing on her tv.

"I love it in here," I smile, looking around at the decorations.

"Thank you," she says.

I sit down on the bed beside her as we talk.

"I love your voice," she says, her usual raspy voice turning soft.

I smile, "Really? Why?" I ask, I used to get bullied a lot for my lisp despite how unnoticeable it is.

"It's sweet, like honey, and your lisp is adorable, I'd listen to a podcast that's hours long with just you on it," she says, staring into my eyes with her chocolate ones.

How poetic.

I smile, "thank you, that's the best compliment I've ever gotten," I say softly, subconsciously leaning in.

"What kinda music do you like?" She asks, grabbing her tv remote.

I smile, "I've been listening to a lot of Beyonce,"

She nods, shuffling on Beyoncé's self-titled album.

My brow raises, "You listen to her too?" I ask.

"Yes," she laughs, "this is definitely in my top 3," she motions to the song playing.

No Angel by Beyoncé is playing, making me feel things.

"Mine too," I say, my voice falling quiet as I notice the way she's looking at me.

Her eyes dart to my lips, then further down.

But I can't kiss her again, I asked god to forgive me too many times—he might not forgive me this time.

Her eyes meet mine again, and when she leans in, I hear a knock on the door.

I don't know whether to be glad or disappointed...I didn't not want to kiss her.

Without hesitation, I press my lips to hers, gently throwing my arms over her shoulders.

She hums with content as she kisses back, now that we each have more experience, the kiss is more passionate and intimate. I let her tatted hands roam my body if she touches me it'd be my first time.

The knocks happens again but we continue to kiss as she throws a leg over my body, getting on top of me.

she pulls away for a second, "don't worry about that okay baby?" She asks.

My stomach aches at the pet name as I nod, "Okay,"

Our lips connect again, and I can't help but feel like this is what I'm supposed to be doing. This isn't wrong.

[admirableadmiranda]

Possibly an unpopular opinion.. but wwx was not a father figure for A-Yuan during their time in the burial mounds. He was more like a cool, but crazy uncle imo 🤣

Everyone be like, wwx did a good job... It was lwj who raised him 🤔 I mean, don't get me wrong.. our boy Wei did saved him twice and is so happy to have him in his life again. But lwj deserve most of the credit ✌️

Anon, I'm afraid I will have to disagree here and say that I don't agree with this take. If you are ascribing parental figures to one of them, then they both should get the credit, it’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault he was killed after only a year. I’m sure if you ask any number of people who have lost a parent young but they remember their parent being a parent while they were alive, that’s still the feeling they have now.

Yeah, Wei Wuxian plays with him a lot and teases him. That's not necessarily behavior that's only relegated to uncles. Not only does that sound pretty similar to Lan-furen playing with little Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, but it also sounds like my dad, who definitely was a parent, just one that did his guidance through much more play related activities. There is more than one way to be a caring, good parent.

Also that being said, there are plenty of interactions and character moments that feel very parental in nature. Here he is scolding A-Yuan for eating corpse dirt:

Wei WuXian bent down and picked up the child, letting him sit on his arm, “What do you mean get him away? Can’t you talk properly? A-Yuan, why do you hug the leg of everyone you meet? Off you go! Don’t bite your nails right after you play with mud. Do you know what the mud is made of? Move your hand! Don’t touch my face either. Where’s Granny?”Wei WuXian bent down and picked up the child, letting him sit on his arm, “What do you mean get him away? Can’t you talk properly? A-Yuan, why do you hug the leg of everyone you meet? Off you go! Don’t bite your nails right after you play with mud. Do you know what the mud is made of? Move your hand! Don’t touch my face either. Where’s Granny?”

Here they are with some soup, and I double checked, Wei Wuxian is teasing A-Yuan and saying he's being a good son here. Filial piety is specifically the respect from a child to a parent or ancestor.

Wen Yuan couldn’t stop after just a few mouthfuls, yet he still knew to give the bowl to Wei WuXian, speaking as though he was presenting him with a treasure, “… Brother Xian… Xian eat.”

Wei WuXian seemed to like it a lot, “Yes, very good. So you do know what filial piety means.”

As well as A-Yuan seems to think of Wei Wuxian as a father secretly. A-Yuan gets lost in the market and while looking for Wei Wuxian, discovers and gets scared by Lan Wangji.

In the beginning, Wen Yuan was still holding onto his leg. Wei WuXian walked back and forth, picking out potatoes and bargaining. Hanging on his leg, Wen Yuan felt tired just a while later. His short arms were sore, so he let go to rest for a bit. Yet, in just a few moments, the rush of the people on the streets made him reel left and right, losing his sense of direction. His line of sight was quite low. He walked here and there, but couldn’t find Wei WuXian’s long legs and black boots. Everything in front of his eyes were pants so grimey that they were the color of dirt. He grew more and more petrified. As he spun around dizzily, he bumped into someone’s leg.

Hiding in the crowd as he heard the words ‘his dad’, Wei WuXian almost exploded with laughter. Lan WangJi immediately looked up, denying it, “I am not.”

Wen Yuan didn’t know what the people were talking about. When children were scared, they always called out to those they were close to. And so, sobbing, he called, “Dad! Dad…”

A-Yuan has not even officially met Lan Wangji yet. The narrative tells us he's scared and calling for those that they were close to. The only person who could hear him is Wei Wuxian. He calls him "A-die".

Wei Wuxian’s parenting is definitely a lot more unorthodox than most parenting we see, but let’s keep in mind that he is twenty-one at the most at the time. He is a very young man who is putting himself in the position of caring for a child in a hellistic time on earth. His main goal is to make sure that A-Yuan grows up feeling happy and cared for without ever worrying about their situation. He can’t erase all of it, but he can sure as hell make sure that A-Yuan never feels like everyone’s miserable. A-Yuan also seems to be the only child in the camps, who else does he have to play with?

The relationship between the three of them is interesting because there is no singular term that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji use for Sizhui, nor does Sizhui quite define them in one particular relationship. He calls Wei Wuxian “Xian-gege” most of the time, but also “A-Die” once when he’s scared. He describes Lan Wangji as being like a “father and brother” to him. The two men clearly both take pride and interest in his upbringing and even take him out on special trips alone with just the two of them.

If you conclude that Lan Wangji feels more like a parent to Lan Sizhui, keep in mind that they both give Sizhui the same sense of safety. He connects the two with the same emotion.

Wei WuXian turned to him, “SiZhui, you’re the most sensible one here. Guide them a bit, won’t you? Can you do that?”

Lan SiZhui nodded. Wei WuXian added, “Don’t be scared.”

Lan SiZhui, “I am not.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Lan SiZhui smiled, “Senior, you are so much like HanGuang-Jun.”

Wei WuXian was puzzled, “Us? How are we alike?” They were obviously like fire and ice. However, Lan SiZhui only grinned in reply, and led the rest of the group out.

He continued his thought silently, I do not know, either, but they just feel similar. It is as though if either one of the two seniors are present, I will not need to be scared or worry about anything.

And both of Wangxian conclude that they are both responsible for how he turned out, as well as the same soft look in their eyes.

At least, Lan SiZhui couldn’t hold it any longer. With a loud cry, he leaped up. One hand around Wei WuXian and the other around Lan WangJi, he pulled the two into a tight embrace. Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi bumped into each other from the hug. Both of them were surprised.

Lan SiZhui buried his head between their shoulders, “HanGuang-Jun, Senior Wei, I… I…”

Hearing his muffled voice, Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi exchanged a look, only inches apart. They both saw something soft within each other’s eyes.

Wei WuXian fixed his mood and put his hand on Lan SiZhui’s back, patting, “Enough, what are you crying for?”

Lan SiZhui, “Not crying… Just… I suddenly feel so frustrated, but so happy as well… I do not know how to describe it…”

After some silence, Lan WangJi laid his hand onto his back as well and patted. Lan WangJi, “There is no need to describe it then.”

Wei WuXian, “That’s right.”

Lan SiZhui didn’t say anything. He hugged them even tighter.

Soon, Wei WuXian exclaimed, “Hey, hey, hey, why are your arms so strong? Definitely deserving of HanGuang-Jun’s teachings…”

Lan WangJi glanced at him, “You taught him as well.”

Wei WuXian, “No wonder he grew up so nicely.”

There is no single defined relationship, but it is clearly close, affectionate and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji definitely have a mentor/parental interest in his life and take a close hand in guiding him on the road to adulthood. However the thing that is clear is that Wangxian both share the same feelings and give Sizhui the same emotions. If one is an uncle, both are. If one is a parent, both are. 

Also again, I think it’s super unfair to blame Wei Wuxian for not being involved in A-Yuan’s upbringing while he was dead, especially since every time Wei Wuxian thinks of Sizhui, Sizhui keeps making him proud and thinking of how good a child he is. Lan Wangji also clearly is raising Sizhui to be aware of Wei Wuxian as he was and to when he is ready, know the other family that he lost.

If Wangxian were together and Wei Wuxian still died young, would you say that Lan Wangji still deserves all the credit? It’s not like Wei Wuxian walked out or chose not to be involved. He died. Of course Lan Wangji has put in the more time, but that’s not something either of them ever wanted.

So yeah, it probably is kind of an unpopular opinion. And not one I particularly agree with either. Sorry!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello !,hello!,ive stumbled on your blog and gotta say absolutely love your writing and analysis!! And im curious to ask what character or characters homeland or family would you wanna see in another event?

I’m up for any new homeland lore or meeting any new family member (maybe in parent-teacher conference event to meet a lot of them at once???), really 👀 I don’t discriminate! If I had to pick some of my most anticipated locations and family members, then...

Rose Queendom! It seems like a whimsical, flower-filled place, and I like that kind of an aesthetic. It might be fun to also drop by the Clover Family Bakery. I think it’d be cozy and cute! As for family, I’d want to see Mama Spade and Chenya’s grandpa. They would make for some wholesome character moments! ... NOT GONNA LIE, I KIND OF ALSO WANT TO SEE MAMA ROSEHEARTS TOO 😅 JUST TO SEE IF THE HEART AHOGE LOOK WEIRD ON HER....................... It might be interesting to meet a character that doesn’t have a healthy dynamic with a main cast boy; it would really shake up the formula and give us some nuanced interactions.

Sunset Savanna! This would be a good excuse to bring Cheka back in, as well as introduce other characters twisted from those in The Lion King. Maybe we can even see Farena/Falena along with some tasty family drama between him and L*ona or him embarrassing L*ona, that works too 🤡 I’d also love to see Granny Bucchi. She sounds like such a tough and hardworking person to Ruggie and the neighborhood kids. OH, AND WE CAN’T FORGET ABOUT ROOK???????? IF YOU CAN’T SHOW US YOUR BICEPS THEN AT LEAST INTRODUCE US TO YOUR (totally not suspicious at all, I’m sure) MOM AND DAD AND 5 SIBLINGS.

Coral Sea! It would be such a different environment than what most of the TWST cast is used to, which I think opens up a lot of possibilities for unique and fun situations. I feel like a lot of fandom depictions of the Coral Sea make it out to be a romantic and shining utopia like Atlantica, but I’ve always seen it more as a place that’s more… rough around the edges? Like, with pirate ships and unseen danger lurking about in its depths. I’d want to see if the Coral Sea as a whole is more like Atlantica or more like the underwater caverns where Ursula lives. ALSO GIVE US MERFORM BOYS, TWST-- I’d also be interested in meeting both the Leech and the Ashengrotto parents! I wonder if Leech Mama and Leech Papa are as intimidating as a lot of fan art makes them out to be? I’m very curious about Azul’s parents (mom and stepdad) as well, because the fan interpretations and theories on them are more... mixed, I feel???? I’ve seen some people say that his parents aren’t loving because Azul made no mention of them helping him when he was going through his episode 3 flashback and detailing his bullying, and then others say his mom did care because she fed him well, but was maybe too preoccupied with her restaurant to realize something was happening to her son. I have an Azul stan friend that suggested that Azul might have lied about his happy family and childhood so as to preserve his own image, which he clearly values 🤔 dnbsvsuekxks Anyway, since the Octatrio can’t be trusted 💕 I think we need to witness their hometown and their families with our own eyes~

Briar Valley! There’s a lot that has yet to be explored about its history, culture, and politics. I want to delve more into that, as well as the human-fairy tensions that seem to exist here. Catch me ignoring Malleus’s grandma and rushing to the Zigvolt residence to hit up Sebek’s parents 🥺 I WANT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT BABYBEK... AND TO WITNESS A LOVE SO PURE THAT IT TRANSCENDS SOCIETAL PRESSURE WITH MY OWN EYES.

Jubilee Port! This is actually Sam’s hometown, and it doesn’t get much mention! Since we don’t know much about it and we don’t have many characters from it, it has a strong air of mystery (even moreso than the Briar Valley). Sam has such a chipper attitude, and I wonder if he got some of it from where he was raised (since the name of his hometown also sounds so cheery)?

[starlitangels]

Inside-Outside Perspective

I was having some Pups AU brain rot, to no one’s surprise, and a couple people who have left comments are quite supportive of Natalie/Danny so... yeah 2.5k words (Not entirely sure if this is 100% canon to my AU but... I wanted to write it, so I did)

—

“Hello?” Danny’s voice greeted as the call connected.

Natalie almost sagged with relief. “Hey Danny.”

“What’s wrong, Natty?”

“Who says anything’s wrong?”

“Natalie. You never call if you can text. Unless something’s wrong. So, what’s up?”

“Wanna swing by Granny’s with me? Grab a milkshake or something?”

“Sure. You gonna tell me what this is about?”

“When we get there.”

Danny sighed. “Okay. I’ll grab my jacket.”

“Great. I’ll come pick you up in five minutes.”

“See you then.”

—

Danny and Natalie plopped into either side of the corner booth at Granny’s that usually was barely big enough to fit them, their siblings, Evelyn, and Micah. The staff here knew the Shaw pack pups by name.

“Okay. Tell me what’s up,” Danny said.

Ever Milo’s son. No beating around the bush. Natalie smiled and took a drink of her milkshake through the long green straw. Remembering when Gabriel brought her here to tell her he was bisexual, and ask her how to tell their parents. She’d been in Danny’s position then—the one not in-the-know and confused, demanding to know what was going on.

Natalie sighed. “I need a non-shifter who knows about shifters to give me some advice.”

Danny raised a brow. “You? Need advice?”

“Yes, you little snot. Me. I need advice,” Natalie retorted playfully. “I don’t... you know I don’t do this lightly. I hate asking for help. Dad always taught me that the pack leans on each other and supports each other with the alpha and beta at the head to support them all and lead them. The alpha and beta... we’re the ones they lean on. We’re not supposed to do the leaning.”

“And you’re trusting me?”

“Yeah. Like I said, you’re not a shifter, but you know everything about shifters. We were raised in the same damn pack, for heaven’s sake. I need an inside-outside perspective, I think, here.”

“For what?”

Natalie set her milkshake to the side and rested her forehead on folded arms on the table with a sigh. Then she looked up at Danny. “Am I doing this right?”

“Doing what?”

“This.” She gestured vaguely to herself, sitting up properly again. “This whole beta thing. I mean, it’s only been a couple months and I know there are bound to be some... growing pains, I guess—but I feel like... I don’t know! Like I’m going to fail the pack and disappoint my dad and my friends.”

Danny reached across the table and put his hand on Natalie’s arm. “Natalie,” he interrupted. “You’re still new to the job. You have leeway. The pack doesn’t expect you to be perfect right off the bat. They all know your dad raised Gabriel to be the next alpha, not you. And, honestly? I think that makes you even more qualified for the job than your brother. Gabriel stepped down from being the beta because he didn’t want to be in the leadership position. You do. You’ve wanted to serve the pack since we were kids. I heard how much you meant it when you took that oath in the clearing a couple months ago. You want this.”

“But am I ready? I mean, I’m eighteen. Was I too young?”

“No. I mean, if something happened to your dad that left you the alpha at eighteen, then yeah, probably. Not gonna mince words there. But if that happened, Uncle Ash would probably serve as acting alpha for a while until you were old enough to properly take up the position. But you’re plenty old enough to be the beta. You’re learning to be alpha directly under your dad. And he already broke the record for longest-serving alpha in Dahlia, like, three years ago. So you’ll have the most experienced alpha in the city teaching you how to be a good leader.”

Natalie took a deep breath and sighed. “Thanks Danny,” she said softly. She dragged her styrofoam milkshake cup closer to her and took another long drink through the straw, staring into the middle distance at the table.

“Natalie, look at me,” Danny entreated gently, squeezing her arm. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve had a crush on you for four years. You’ve known that I have feelings for you since we were fourteen. I mean, that day when you protected me from the fireball from Jacob Keller—I was never going to be the same. 

“So I’m telling you what I’m telling you as someone who loves you. You’re my best friend. I want to see you do well. I’m not telling you that you’re doing fine just because I’m blindly supporting you or whatever. I’m telling you that you’re not failing the pack because I believe that.

“You’re a natural leader. You always have been. Micah doesn’t listen to anyone if it doesn’t suit her but she always listens to you.”

Natalie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Gabriel told me that same thing almost word-for-word when he told Dad he should make me beta in his stead.”

“It’s true. I mean, even my sister obeys you, and she’s the oldest. You’d think she’d be the least-likely to listen to someone so much younger than her. But we respect you and we trust you. We want to see you be the best damn beta this pack has ever seen. You’re our friend. I... I want to see you become the best damn alpha this city has ever seen. And... I know you’re... struggling—”

“I’m not struggling,” Natalie put in immediately.

Danny sighed. “Knew you were gonna say that,” he muttered.

“Daniel, if I was struggling, I would have called Micah and we would have hashed it out in the woods with claws and teeth. But I called you. Because I want advice.”

Danny visibly winced when she used his full first name. No one but David ever called him Daniel—and even then, David only called him that when he was being especially grumpy. “Don’t call me that, Natty, please,” he said around a gag. “Every time someone calls me Daniel I feel like I take three-D-six psychic damage.”

“I know. But I needed you to know that I’m serious when I say I’m not struggling. I’m just... adjusting. And I need some advice on how I can do that better. I need that advice from someone who’s not a shifter.” She took another long drink from her milkshake while Danny did the same.

He huffed out a sigh. “Well,” he said. “I think the best thing you can do is keep trying your best. And know that that doesn’t look the same every single day. Some days you’ll be able to walk through Hell and back for the pack, and other days your best is just getting out of bed in the morning.” He took another drink from his milkshake as he thought. “And, honestly? Listen to your dad. He’s been leading this pack for decades. He knows what he’s doing. And he wants to see you succeed. Your success is his success—and your dad doesn’t lose.”

Natalie nodded slighly, drinking slowly from her straw while staring back at the table again. “Thanks, Danny. I really appreciate that.”

He squeezed her arm again. “C’mon. Let’s go get back in the car. Drive to the trailhead. Maybe hike to the clearing. Some real fresh air, y’know? You and Micah always perk up when we’re outside.”

“Yeah, because we’ve got wolves lurking just beneath our skin.” She made a goofy face at him and got to her feet. “Sure. Let’s get out of here.”

—

“Wow. There are so many memories in this clearing,” Natalie said, leaning back against the fallen log covered in claw marks. “I shifted here for the first time. With my whole family here supporting me. Gabriel was sworn in as beta here. I was sworn in as beta here. I reamed that other alpha we invited to the ceremony right between those trees,” she pointed off to the side. “Micah and I come here all the time to roughhouse. Gabriel beat the hell outta me one time so bad we had to call Sam. Oh man, Dad was mad.”

Danny chuckled. “I remember you telling me about that. You still have the scar on your leg?”

Natalie pulled up her shorts’ leg just enough to reveal a two-inch scar on the top of her thigh. “Yep. Doubt it’ll ever go away.”

Danny resisted the urge to reach out and touch the scar. It was thin and not noticeable if someone didn’t know it was there, but in the summer sunlight it glistened. Instead, he threaded his fingers together. She was sitting so close to him. Even without being a shifter, when the breeze blew just right, he could smell her. The coconut scent of her shampoo was quite distracting.

She’d always sat close to him, long before he had a crush on her, and that hadn’t changed when she realized he had feelings for her. His entire shifter family seemed to have a different definition of personal space than other people he knew.

But Danny didn’t mind, if it meant Natalie was sitting so close that their legs were touching.

“So, you gonna take over the security business from your dad too, someday?” he asked.

Natalie snorted. “Probably. When he retires as alpha. For now, I’m fine running jobs with him and learning how the company works.”

Danny grunted and nodded. “The pack keeps getting bigger. You think you can handle all of us?”

“I will handle all of you,” Natalie declared, a fierce glint in her eye. “And when I’m alpha, whoever my beta is can help me.”

“You thought about who you want as beta? It can’t be me—I’m not a shifter. Micah?”

Natalie snorted again. “Nooo. Micah doesn’t want that kind of responsibility. I’d give it to Gabriel in a heartbeat but he already gave up the position once. He wouldn’t take it if I offered. Right now I’m thinking your sister or Evelyn.”

“Evelyn?”

“Yeah. Asher’s dad was beta before Grampa Gabe made Dad the beta. Then when Dad became alpha, he made Ash beta. Seems like a member of my family and a member of Evelyn’s is the dream team for the Shaw pack. But, honestly, Lily is older, and she’s pretty smart. I’d trust her to have my back too.” Natalie cleared her throat. “Not that it matters yet. I’m not gonna be alpha for, like, eight more years at least. If not more. Dad’s not gonna trust me to be the alpha when I’m twenty-six.”

“He was made alpha at twenty-five.”

“That was different,” Natalie said quickly.

The two lapsed into silence. Danny started twiddling his thumbs. Natalie bounced her foot back and forth, like she’d be tapping it if it was flat on the ground.

Danny turned to look at her. “Are we gonna be okay?” he asked.

Natalie’s eyebrows lowered. She met his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re the pack beta now, Natalie. You’re the first female beta in the city. I’ve known you my entire life and you’re my best friend. But now that you’re beta, first and foremost I am your subordinate. So is Micah—hell, so is Gabriel. We’re your friends second. Are we gonna be okay?”

“I’m not going to lose myself, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not going to just snap and one day start treating everyone like they’re inferior. This pack is my family. It’s my honor to serve the pack, not rule them. We’ll be fine, Danny. There might be times where I’ll have to step up and act in an official capacity as the beta, and later alpha, regarding my friends, but I’m still me. Does that make sen—Danny, you’re staring at me.”

Danny blinked, realizing he’d been watching her mouth move with her words, absolutely transfixed. He met her gaze. “You’re beautiful.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Natalie looked down and away from him, shoulders curling up toward her ears.

“I-I-I—I didn’t mean to offend you,” Danny stammered. “Honestly I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Just pretend I didn’t. I was just thinking how good you look out here in the soft shade lighting and the way your smile lights up the whole damn clearing and—”

“Can I kiss you?” Natalie interrupted.

Danny cloaked. It was a habit that his body developed more than his mind. Whenever he was surprised or scared, his magic reacted before he did, and he vanished from sight.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Natalie said, moving to get to her feet. “Forget I brought it—”

Danny forced himself to become visible again. “No, no!” he protested, putting a hand on her arm to stop her from leaving, but not grabbing. “Sorry. My magic did that before I could think about it. You took me by surprise, is all. I’ve always been jumpy.” He cleared his throat. “If you want to, I’m sure as hell not going to say no. I’ve been daydreaming about kissing you for years.”

Natalie met his gaze again. The smile that lifted her face was small, but her eyes shone bright.

Danny reached up and carefully brushed the baby hairs that escaped her ponytail out of her face. 

 She copied his movements, brushing his wavy, shaggy overlong bangs from his eyes where they usually hung. Her smile widened.

Danny’s heart was beating in his damn throat as she leaned closer.

He closed the gap between them and kissed her.

His daydreams hadn’t been anywhere close to doing it justice.

The kiss was chaste. It lasted only a few seconds.

But it left Danny wanting more. So much more. All it took was one simple, clean kiss—and he was addicted.

Natalie was smiling again. Danny wanted to see that smile every single day for the rest of his life.

“My dad said I’d get over you,” he said quietly. “When I first started crushing on you. He said it was probably just teenage hormones and I’d get over it in a couple months and we’d go back to being nothing more than best friends. I never did. I never hid it, but I never wanted it to get in the way of being your friend. I tried going on dates with other girls at school, and every single time, I told my parents afterward, ‘Well, she was no Natalie, but she was nice.’ I wanted you, but I didn’t want to ruin everything we already had.”

“Oh God, shut up and ruin it already,” Natalie said breathlessly.

“Gladly.” Danny took her face in both his hands and brought her close. Her hands wrapped around the back of his head and neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. Their faces crashed together. Danny’s heart was pounding so hard he wondered if he’d cloaked again.

Natalie could feel her wolf reeling. Why did it take you so long, Shaw? it seemed to ask. She ignored it. The taste of Danny was on her tongue and she wasn’t letting him go any time soon.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: not an ending, but a middle.

this chapter was ridiculously difficult to write and edit. it tops out at 7.5k words so… beware

***

Cassian and Nesta make full use of the summer house without his friends there, making love on every other surface just because they’re all alone and they can. Nesta shows a soft spot in particular for having sex in Cassian’s old bed, proving to him that she can be just as sentimental as he is.

Which is how they end up sprawled naked on the living room floor early the next morning, fast asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but a throw blanket to cover them.

Cassian is woken up by the sound of the front door being flung open, followed promptly by a feminine yelp as the intruder catches sight of the tangled couple in the living room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cassian whips his head up to find who interrupted his sleep, and his nostrils flare in shock when he sees Mor at the entryway. He carefully but swiftly moves his arm out from under Nesta’s head and replaces it with a nearby pillow before starting to stand up. “What the hell are you doing—”

“Fuck no, I can see your ass—No, now I can see your dick!” Mor squeals in disgust, promptly spinning around and clapping her hands over her eyes like she can burn the image out of her mind.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cassian whisper-hisses at her, throwing a worried glance at Nesta’s still sleeping form. She doesn’t shift an inch.

Scooping up his flannel sleep pants from the floor, Cassian pulls them on while Mor makes gagging noises with her back to him.

Spying a pair of underwear flung over the arm of a chair, she bends to pick them up with two pinched fingers and turns to face Cassian, who’s now appropriately covered. Heavy judgment wrinkles her nose as she casts a glance to the owner of the panties, then to Cassian. “Granny panties, Cass? Is this what your sex life has been reduced to?”

“Don’t touch Nesta’s underwear.” He stalks over to Mor and snatches them out of her hand, before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her off into the kitchen.

She shakes him off once they’re out of earshot from Nesta and takes a seat across from him at the wooden breakfast table. She brushes her golden hair over a shoulder and smirks. “Someone’s been having fun on their own while waiting for the rest of the party to arrive.”

“What are you doing here?” Cassian repeats.

Mor waves a languid hand dismissively. “I ended up taking a commercial flight. I wasn’t a fan of being stuck on the same private plane as Az and Elain.”

Cassian blows out a tight breath, wishing he’d at least gotten some warning before his plans for the day were ruined. Plans that included taking Nesta in the lake before breakfast.

“But seriously,” Mor glances over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, “what’s up with the prude panties? I thought you would’ve thawed that ice pussy by n…” She trails off at the look on Cassian’s face, and a glimpse of fear crosses her own face. She forces a nervous laugh and twists her fingers together. “I suddenly remember making a promise a while ago,” she murmurs while staring down at the table.

“It’s a good thing you remember,” Cassian says stoically, “because I was just about to bring it up.”

“I know, I know, no criticizing your girlfriend.” Mor rolls her eyes.

“It’s about a lot more than that,” he grits. “It’s about how you’re only wary of her because you don’t trust me to choose who I give my love to. It’s about how you don’t respect my decision enough to maintain boundaries when you talk about Nesta.”

For once, Mor looks put off her game. “I never meant it like that,” she tries to say.

“That’s what it looks like,” Cassian retorts. “It looks like you’re judging someone you have no right to judge, like you’re trying to protect me from an imaginary threat.”

Mor coughs aloud. “Do I really need a scolding for a girl I see maybe twice a year? I haven’t even thought about Nesta since the New Year’s party.”

“It’s not a scolding,” Cassian says firmly. “It’s an order to be on your best behavior for the duration of this vacation, because the sisters and I went through a lot to get Nesta to come here. There will be no catfights, or backtalk, or rude looks and snide tones until we’ve returned home. The same applies for everyone else once they get here.”

“Or, how about this? I’ll stop making ice pussy jokes if you stop being this…” Mor waves a hand up and down at Cassian’s shirtless figure with a grimace, “unrecognizable creature with the tension of a forty year old single dad.”

Is Cassian tense? Of course he’s fucking tense. The last time he convinced Nesta to go to a family event with him was Christmas Eve, and he’s never letting that mistake be repeated ever again. His glare confirms it.

“Morrigan,” he says lowly with a hint of warning.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But for the record, I’ve never said anything rude to your girlfriend’s face, and I never plan to.”

Cassian crosses his brown arms across his chest. “No, you’ve only done it to my face.”

Guilt crosses Mor’s features for the quickest second. “Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “In that case, I’ll pull back from now on.”

He releases a terse breath. “Good.” Now to hammer the message into anyone else who might threaten the quiet solitude he and Nesta have found here.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she adds somewhat apologetically. “You know I just want the best for you.”

“And you know I already know what’s best for me.”

Mor dips her head in reluctant acknowledgment. “Can we go back to normal, then? I don’t like feeling like your adversary.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief, and his crossed arms fall away. “Of course, Mor.”

Like flipping a switch, Mor claps her hands together. “Good. I left my luggage in the rental car and it’s super heavy; I brought enough clothes for three outfit changes a day. Why don’t you put those big strong muscles to work while I get settled into my room?”

Before Cassian can object, she’s out of her seat and flouncing out of the kitchen. From the entry hall, Cassian can hear Mor say perkily, “Good morning, Nesta! Love the undies.”

Cassian drops his head onto the table with a thud, lifts it, then drops it again. Mor is going to be a work in progress.

“You okay?” A voice makes Cassian look up from the wooden table. Nesta stands in the kitchen entryway wearing nothing but Cassian’s shirt, and her hair is a rumpled mess from sleep. Her hands twisting into the hem of his tee tells him she couldn’t be less excited about Mor’s early arrival, though the rest of her doesn’t show it.

Exhausted apprehensiveness drops in Cassian’s gut. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks warily.

“Not much. I just woke up a minute ago and heard your voices.” She comes over to him and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Why, were you guys arguing?”

Cassian slings his arm around Nesta’s waist, basking in her warmth. “Not exactly.”

She frowns. “Was it about me?”

“It was about Mor.”

She nudges him. “Will you tell me about it?”

“No,” he quips, yanking her down onto his lap. He pecks a kiss onto her lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Nesta hums to herself. “So our morning plans are out the window?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Yup.”

“Does Mor actually like my undies?”

“Nope.”

***

The rest of Cassian’s friends and Nesta’s family arrive by late afternoon, piling out of a dark SUV in a frenzy of noise and colors. Nesta forgot how… many of them there were.

She lets Cassian and Mor handle the greetings, choosing to observe everyone from her spot near the stairs.

Azriel is the first to catch her eyes. He looks the same as ever, dressed head to toe in black even in the middle of a heat wave. Elain is an overdressed peacock in comparison to him, not that anyone would be comparing them, because they carefully stand at opposite ends of the entry hall.

He sends a simple nod Nesta’s way, which makes her narrow her eyes. Does he think he can act too cool for her just because they haven’t talked in a while? Idiot.

Feyre notices Nesta next and waves her arms wildly. “Get over here!”

Nesta reluctantly pulls away from the banister and nears their group, offering only a half smile to everyone there before hiding behind her sisters. Cassian cuts a glance her way in solidarity, and it feels like a pillar of reinforcement against her wavering self. She scrambles around for a solid ten seconds for something to say, either to her sisters or to the whole group, and finally comes up with, “What are we having for dinner?”

“That’s still hours away,” Rhysand assures. “Everyone scram and put your shit up first.”

“The girl has a point,” Amren grumbles. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Rhys, can we have an early dinner?” Mor whines.

And just like that, Nesta has melted into the background again. Which might be for the best, considering how loud it is right now.

Feeling overwhelmed, Nesta checks on Feyre and Elain to make sure they’re not paying attention to her, and then meets Cassian’s gaze through all the luggage and bodies. Tilting her head toward the back door to let him know that she’s leaving, she silently slips down the hall and out of the house.

Outside in the gardens, the light breeze soothes her heightened senses. It’s hot as shit at this hour, but she’ll take it for the peace and quiet.

Only a few minutes into her getaway, however, Nesta hears the porch door open behind her. Her shoulders stiffen when she hears footsteps that don’t belong to Cassian. There goes her peace and quiet.

Nesta is surprised to find Amren slinking up to her side, her small head appearing at Nesta’s shoulder.

Discomfort crawls through Nesta’s bones at the woman’s unexpected presence. It’s a subtle sense of wrongness, like being in the proximity of a predator but not having enough information to guess how they’ll attack.

“Hiding out from Rhysie’s big bad inner circle?” Amren taunts.

Nesta stiffens. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown in her face.

“I suppose I can’t blame you,” she goes on. “We can be a scary group.”

“I’m not scared of anybody,” Nesta says, keeping her focus glued to the trees’ cherry blossoms. “I just wanted fresh air.”

“And I’ve wanted to find out what Cassian sees in you ever since he gave me that verbal lashing about being nice to his new girlfriend.” Amren turns to face Nesta fully, closing in. “What kind of pussy grip can a woman have to make Cassian of all men heel?” She hisses in a thoughtful breath through her teeth.

Nesta only shrugs, but her interest is piqued at the idea of Cassian warning Amren away from her. She definitely doesn’t need the protection, and once would have found it offensive, but… she likes the idea of someone standing up for her, being unapologetically on her side even if they have no good reason to do it. The only other times she can remember feeling defended were brief, subtle childhood instances with Feyre and Elain, and that was only because blood instinctively defends blood. It’s different to feel chosen. It makes her chest crack.

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Amren throws out, “Are you on the spectrum or what?”

Nesta again doesn’t reply.

“No one mentioned it, but I assumed as soon as I saw you.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions,” Nesta says, her voice cool as a running river.

Amren barks a laugh that sounds like a whip lashing. “I like you, girl.”

Nesta finally meets Amren’s silver gaze and states, “I don’t like you.” Her tone is blunt, to the point—but if she has to participate in this twisted version of small talk, then she should at least get to be honest.

Amren laughs aloud again, as if that genuinely amuses her. Nesta doesn’t know how amused Amren will be when she realizes that Nesta is serious.

She shrugs to herself, turning back to face the garden. It isn’t her problem, she decides.

***

“Even for you, this is overprotective.” Rhys’s voice comes from behind Cassian, who stands at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen that peers out onto the gardens. He’s been watching Amren converse with Nesta for the last seven minutes—or rather, he’s been watching Nesta, inspecting her body language to gauge her discomfort.

It was a struggle not to hold his arm across the back door and block Amren from following after Nesta earlier. Amren had the look of a cat going out to play with a new toy, and Cassian had nearly snarled at her for it until she gave him that expression: the raised brow and sneer that said Really, Cassian? Pathetic.

It made him think of how Nesta would feel if she knew he was trying to physically keep people away from her, and he managed to have enough shame to move aside and let Amren pass with only a warning look.

So far though, it looks like Nesta is handling herself just fine. He should’ve known better than to underestimate her.

When Rhys doesn’t get a response, he comes up to stand at Cassian’s side and get a look through the glass door. “I never thought you’d be applying your passion for security to your damn girlfriend.” Rhys lets out a low whistle.

Without taking his eyes off Nesta and Amren, Cassian tells Rhys, “Protecting her is protecting myself. When she gets hurt, I feel it twofold.” And he really doesn’t want to be hurt on this vacation. Nesta already thinks he’s a crybaby as it is.

Rhys is silent for a long minute, as if he can’t deny that he would feel the same way for his own girlfriend. Eventually he says, “I might finally understand what’s going on in your brain whenever you’re around her.”

Cassian only nods.

Rhysand claps his hand down suddenly on Cassian’s shoulder, breaking the somberness of his confession. “Call them in to help make dinner,” Rhys orders. “I want all hands on deck tonight.”

Cassian looks at his brother with narrowed eyes. “And what will you be doing to help?”

“I’ll be watching the game on the nice TV that I paid for, in the beautiful new living room I also paid for.”

“Bastard.”

***

Nesta and Azriel help prepare dinner in silence. Their quiet acknowledgment of each other is better than any words could be, but it’s all shattered when Mor dumps a serving platter on the counter right next to Azriel.

“Ooh, ricotta-stuffed mushrooms!” She grabs a handful and starts arranging them onto her platter. “Az, how was your mystery weekend away? I haven’t seen you since you got back.”

Azriel shares an unreadable glance with Nesta before sliding his chicken parmesan dish toward her and saying loudly, “Wow, is that football?” He promptly turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

Nesta glares after him in disbelief, but Azriel can’t hear her wordless cries for help because he’s already in the living room.

Left alone at the kitchen counter with Morrigan, Nesta keeps wiping at the wine glasses that have been gathering dust in the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Mor’s mouth is tightened into a displeased line.

Not that Nesta isn’t grateful for it, but Mor usually isn’t one to keep her mouth shut. She wonders if something is wrong that she doesn’t know about. “You look constipated,” Nesta tells Mor under her breath. “Anything you want to get out?”

Mor only scoffs in indignation. Then she shakes her head and mutters to herself, “I promised not to say anything.”

Now Nesta is really intrigued. “Promised who?” she prods. “Cassian?”

“Like you don’t know about it.” Mor rolls her dark eyes.

Nesta doesn’t know, though after Amren’s comment earlier she might have a hint. “I would prefer you be honest with me rather than follow Cassian’s orders.”

“That’s funny, so do I.” Mor plucks up a stuffed mushroom and shoves it into her mouth.

Nesta thinks back to how she woke up to Cassian and Mor’s voices lowered in seriousness. After what Nesta overheard on New Year’s Eve, it’s no secret that Morrigan doesn’t care for her, but she suddenly has the urge to have it said to her face. “Well, if you want to stop holding back with me, I won’t tell.”

Morrigan sets down her mushroom platter with a thump, turning to face Nesta like she’s done her a personal wrong. “You know what I know about you, Nesta?” Mor says. “I know that Cassian has changed since he’s gotten with you. I know that he’s more serious whenever he’s around you. I know that you don’t love him as much as he loves you. How can Cassian expect me to trust someone that doesn’t want to be around his own family? How can he expect me to trust you with his heart? Not that I’m allowed to be saying any of this, because I’m supposed to be hiding my feelings about you to stop my best friend from hating me.”

It’s crazy how a year ago those words would have been enough to make Nesta retreat to her room and never come out again. Each statement pricks like a shard of glass against her skin, though none of them are accurate or true.

And yet Nesta finds herself hurting more for Cassian than for herself. She feels her familiar old mask go up around her face and harden there.

“It sounds like your problem is more with Cassian than it is with me,” Nesta says stoically. “Because I won’t be going through any trials to prove myself. I have nothing to prove. I don’t care if you like me or not, if you’re nice to my face or cruel behind my back—but it’s rude to shit over your friend’s life choices like that. He’ll stop trusting you if you keep it up, and it won’t be my fault when it happens,” Nesta finishes. She wordlessly gathers the wine glasses in her hands and abandons a silent Morrigan to go set the table.

Nesta knows the dynamic at dinner is off with her presence there.

For once, Cassian’s priorities lie somewhere other than laughing with his friends. He keeps a protective hand on Nesta’s thigh from the moment they take their seats, and he only removes it when he’s filling her plate with food.

With memories of Christmas dinner hanging over all of them, Cassian looks like a bodyguard prepared for attack— except he’s contributing to a good half of the tension at the table.

“How was the drive here?” Feyre pokes at the two of them in an attempt to break the ice. Nesta glances to Cassian for his response, but his attention is taken by the platter of bread rolls.

Sighing internally, Nesta answers, “Better than yours, that’s for sure.”

Everyone laughs hesitantly. A steaming bread roll then appears on Nesta’s plate, golden and fluffy with a buttery aroma; one glance at the rest of the bread tells her it was the biggest roll in the pile.

Nesta drops her walls enough to give Cassian a small smile and an arm rub of appreciation, and then she reaches straight for the bottle of wine.

She loves Cassian and hates this dinner too much to allow this to go on.

After filling Cassian’s empty glass high with Merlot, Nesta presses it into his free hand with a subtle kiss on his cheek. “Relax a little,” she murmurs into his ear.

It takes ten minutes and two full glasses for her plan to take effect, but relax Cassian does. Like oil slipping through rusted gears, the tension in the room slowly unwinds and natural conversation starts to flow.

“You guys will not believe what I had to walk in on this morning,” Mor announces at one point during the meal.

“Yeah, yeah, Cassian’s ass and dick, we’ve already heard,” Amren says.

Cassian’s glare at Mor is more lighthearted than life-threatening. “This is why I can’t talk to you anymore,” he states, pointing a finger at her. Nesta is so glad for the lack of tension in his shoulders that she doesn’t even care if everyone basically knows about her having sex in the living room.

With Cassian acting more like his normal self, the pressure to make useless small talk is no longer on her. Nesta is content to watch everybody share stories and laughter, but for once she doesn’t feel like an audience member on the outside looking in. Maybe it’s because no matter how much Cassian drinks, his hand stays steady on her leg the whole night, keeping her rooted there with everybody else. He doesn’t let her fade into the background for a second.

“What’s that on your wrist, Az?” Mor’s voice rings from one head of the table. Azriel snatches his hand back in a flash before Mor can reach for it. From his other side, Nesta grabs it smoothly out of the air to take a look at the cause of Mor’s question.

She raises her brow at the sight of three colorful bracelets lining Azriel’s right wrist.

Az tries to pull his hand away, but Nesta’s hold is tight. Even if the signature of the maker wasn’t stamped onto one of the childish bracelets, she would know who had made them with one glance.

“What does it say?” Mor asks her.

“Nothing. Just some beads.” Nesta pulls Azriel’s dark sleeve over the beads that spell out GWYN’S BITCH and gives his arm a little pat. She sincerely hopes Elain is thoroughly over Azriel by now.

“Was that Rainbow Loom I saw? Since when did you wear kiddy bracelets?” Mor snorts at Az.

Nesta’s attention is pulled away from their conversation by a heavy head falling onto her shoulder. “Nestaaa,” Cassian slurs, slumping against her side.

Blushing at the attention he’s drawing to her, Nesta tries to shove a drunk Cassian back upright. “I think we need to get you to bed.”

“Oh really? Promise you’ll tuck me in?” He tries to wink at her, but it comes off as a strained blink.

He looks ridiculous. It isn’t helping the blush on her cheeks, though.

“I promise.” Nesta shoves her finished plate aside and grabs Cassian by the bicep, standing up and attempting to drag him with her. “Come on, I’ll take you right now.”

Mor is quick to get to her feet. “We can take him,” she offers eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Azriel mutters. Nesta hears a hard stomp, and then Az is coughing, jumping out of his seat after Mor. “Yeah, we’ll take him,” he says.

Nesta reluctantly lets Cassian slip out of her grasp as Morrigan and Azriel take one of his arms from either side.

“Wait, but I want Nesta to tuck me in!” Cassian twists around as he’s dragged away, drunkenly finding Nesta’s gaze. He’s pouting.

Affection battles with secondhand embarrassment and wins. “I’ll be right there,” she promises with a wave. As soon as Mor and Azriel accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish. Her voice flattens into a cold warning when she adds after them, “Be careful with him.”

Daring a quick glance back at the table, Nesta wants to cringe when she meets everyone else’s eyes. Rhysand looks highly amused. Feyre looks disturbed, and Elain looks glum with envy, the love-obsessed bitch. Amren is Amren.

After dinner is over, dishes duty is handed over to Rhysand and Amren goes off to bed complaining about beauty sleep, which leaves Nesta alone with her sisters in the foyer.

She doesn’t quite know how, but she ends up forgetting her promise to Cassian and following the girls out to the front porch for some fresh air instead. The sun has long since set, taking some of the summer heat with it, but the air is still stuffy as the three of them settle down onto hand-painted wooden chairs. Lanterns on the porch are lit up to keep the darkness away, and the lake before them gleams with the reflection of the rising moon.

Feyre is the first to speak, her voice hesitant. “It’s hot out tonight, isn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this,” Elain announces. She stands abruptly from her chair and goes back inside.

Nesta and Feyre stare wide-eyed after the swinging front door, but a minute later Elain returns holding a decanter and three crystal glasses. She sets the glasses down on a side table and starts pouring. “It’s not really Tennessee without a strong whiskey,” she says to no one. “And I’m way too sober right now to handle this vacation.” The third glass gets an extra finger of liquor, and it ends up in Elain’s hand. She passes the other two to Nesta and Feyre before settling back into her seat.

Nesta grimaces at the drink in her hand without even tasting it. She hates most alcohol, but strong alcohol especially. For the sake of her sisters, however, she throws back half the glass without thinking.

Liquid fire scalds her tongue and throat, and she groans aloud. Instant regret.

Elain has no such issues downing her liquor. “Did you know,” she says after swallowing a gulp of whiskey like it’s apple juice, “that our old place is just a mile and a half that way?” She waves with her glass toward the back gardens.

“Is it really that close?” A frown wrinkles Feyre’s brow, like the memory of their old home might taint the perfect life she has now.

“Yes,” Nesta confirms. She doesn’t offer anything else.

Feyre shudders despite the temperature. “I hate even thinking about it. It’s so depressing. Reminds me of Papa.”

Which is also depressing, Nesta thinks to herself.

“It wasn’t depressing for me,” Elain says, chin tilted up in defiance.

That doesn’t surprise Nesta. Even in the depths of their father’s patheticness, he was Elain’s favorite man on earth.

Nesta used to wonder how her papa would have reacted if Elain was the one with crippling endometriosis pain every month instead of her. Would he have ignored her cries like he ignored Nesta’s, or would he have come running to her aid?

It’s not a question that’s worth Nesta’s time and energy, though. Not when the man himself has long been six feet under. Instead she pokes at Elain, “Then why did you hide your background from every guy you met like you were ashamed of it?”

“I was ashamed,” Elain says primly, “but that doesn’t mean I hated all of it. We didn’t all grow up with a ten foot stick up our ass; at least I could appreciate what we had without taking my attitude out on everybody else.”

The whiskey must be working quickly, because Nesta can’t hold back an unseemly snort. “There you go again,” she drawls in a cutting tone, pointing an accusing finger with the hand that holds her glass at Elain. “Dishing out shit when you can’t take it back. At least not without crying.”

Feyre, who was trying to hide her cringe with the rim of her drink, now perks up with eagerness. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” she exclaims. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Elain’s lips twist into an indignant sneer. “What’s this dynamic now, why’s everyone ganging up on me?”

Nesta mutters, “Because you need to hear it every now and then.” Turning to Feyre, she adds, “God, she can be fucking annoying.”

“Oh, like you’re everyone’s favorite person to be around?” Elain scoffs.

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. That’s called a con artist, Elain. You’re a con artist.”

There’s stunned silence for a tense moment—and it’s broken by full laughter. Elain is chuckling sweetly as she says, “Well, I suppose it’s okay if only you two are the ones who notice it. It can be our little secret.” She presses a finger to her pink lips.

Feyre giggles along at that too, but Nesta remains quiet. Too sober for the current mood, perhaps. “Do you think someone will notice at one point?” she asks Elain. “That the smiles and Southern charm and—the kindness...” She doesn’t know how to feel about that word in relation to Elain. “Do you think someone will notice that that’s not all there is to you?”

Elain’s grinning face freezes quicker than an actress’s. “No one will know,” she answers smoothly, “because I’m not going to be with anyone else for a while.”

At the confused silence filled only by the chirp of cicadas, Elain supplements, “I’m trying out the single life.”

Nesta meets Feyre’s eyes, and it only catalyzes the sound quelling up in her throat. At the same moment, the two sisters burst into cackling laughter. Well, Feyre cackles. Nesta makes a noise that imitates a dying whale.

“I’m serious,” Elain insists, glaring at them. “If Nesta could spend all those years living like a widowed hag, why can’t I? I don’t need men to live.”

Nesta’s laughter sours at the insult, and she turns to Elain with seriousness in her tone. “No one needs anyone else, Elain—but you treat loneliness like a leper from the Middle Ages. Are you even happy for me and Cassian beneath all that jealousy?”

Elain shifts uncomfortably in her chair and mutters, “Of course I’m happy for you two.” And then she adds in a much quieter voice, “Deep, deep down.”

“Is that what was wrong with you on New Year’s?” Feyre asks gently. “You were jealous?”

Nesta raises a brow; she didn’t know this.

“I wasn’t exactly having fun watching you two suck face right after getting dumped by Azriel,” Elain tells Nesta. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I just…I’m not used to being the lonely one.” She huffs out a sigh and reaches for the decanter again. “If anyone should be in a happy and healthy relationship right now, it should be me.”

Feyre turns to Nesta and whispers too loudly, “You’re right, she is fucking annoying.”

“Don’t get too friendly; so are you.”

Feyre leans away from Nesta in affront. “I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You don’t need to do anything for Nesta to think she’s better than us,” Elain chimes in.

The three of them break out into bickering, which soon devolves into hysterical laughter, which then morphs into a comfortable silence—which doesn’t last long until they’re bickering again. They spend the rest of the night going in small circles like that over their whiskey, occasionally taking breaks to talk of more serious things: Elain’s flower shop is finally starting to pick up business, but expenses are still too high. Nesta is worried about Cassian being all alone in Italy by himself, but she’ll never show it to him. Feyre’s work at the children’s art studio is making her seriously consider having kids (“Don’t you dare, you’re way too young,” Nesta threatens).

Each of them reveals that they miss at least one of their shitty parents these days.

Maybe it’s because they’re under the same night sky that they spent their childhoods under, but if Nesta closes her eyes, it’s like she’s seventeen again, letting her sisters stay up and talk her ear off even though it’s a weeknight.

***

The lack of Nesta in Cassian’s bed must stop him from succumbing to deep sleep, because his nap is hazy and doesn’t last more than a half hour. When he blinks awake, the fog of wine from earlier has mostly cleared away and the lamps in his room are lit. Mor sits on the bay window seat and Azriel lounges on a chair nearby, both of them murmuring quietly to each other.

Noticing Cassian’s movement, Az turns away from Mor and drawls, “That was quick.”

Groaning, Cassian rubs at his eyes and sits up straight. His shirt and jeans are flung on the floor, and he can only assume he took them off himself before collapsing into bed.

Holding the thin blanket to his chest, he demands, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, now he has modesty,” Mor grumbles.

Cassian grabs his wrinkled shirt from the floor and shrugs it on before repeating his question. “What are you doing here, and where’s Nesta?”

“Don’t know,” Az shrugs from his chair. “But Mor wanted us to talk alone, so Nesta probably doesn’t need to be here.”

Growing wary, Cassian straightens up against the headboard. “Talk about what?”

Mor’s words take him by surprise. “I wanted to apologize.” She straightens up in her seat and throws a cautious glance at Azriel. “And I wanted Az with me for moral support.”

Az rolls his eyes to himself, likely considering the task beneath him.

“I didn’t take your words that seriously this morning,” Mor goes on, “but I’m taking them seriously now. Someone made me realize that I’ve been blaming your—girlfriend... for our relationship changing when I’m the one who’s been pushing you away the whole time. While you were falling in love, I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t trust you to find love without my input, and I didn’t respect you when you did.” Tears line her dark eyes, taking Cassian aback. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly. “Please don’t hate me.”

A headache takes root in Cassian’s temples, and he has to shut his eyes against the dull thudding. “I could never hate you, Mor,” he says past the lump in his throat. That was never the problem, though her words have eased some of the pent up frustration in his chest.

Cassian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not just you. It’s every single one of us. We’ve known each other so long, we’re so fucking entangled in each other, that even when I’m living by myself up in my cabin I feel like I can’t get away from it.” He stares out the window like he might find some relief there. “That’s why I’m going overseas. To get some space from all of this.” He waves between the three of them and laughs bitterly. “We created this incestuous little circle and now we don’t know how to care about anyone outside of it.”

He catches Az frowning, fingers toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist that Cassian spied earlier.

Mor sniffs away a lingering tear. “What about Nesta, then? Where does she factor in?”

Cassian’s mouth turns down in a distasteful frown. He still doesn’t like that he has to leave without her, but the fact that he doesn’t like it is only more proof that he needs to do it. “I can’t let Nesta be a part of me,” he answers. “I need to be all of me.”

Only once he learns how to do that can he be the friend and lover that the people in his life deserve.

***

Nesta wakes up the next dawn not on a hard chair, but in a soft bed. The smell of Cassian lingers on the sheets wrapped around her, and she blinks blearily as she tries to remember the events of last night.

Feyre fell asleep first. Elain and Nesta were just going to close their eyes for a moment and take a brief rest as well, but the next thing Nesta knew Cassian was helping her take out her contacts and laying her head against a pillow. Now the sun is dawning and she has a pounding headache. She needs at least another ten hours of sleep before she’ll be fit to face the world again.

She looks around for her phone to check the time and spots it plugged into the charger on the bedside table. Despite feeling like she’s been rammed with the flu, the tiniest smile lifts Nesta’s lips at the thought of Cassian carrying her to bed and making sure to charge her phone.

She finds her lockscreen blown up with notifications, all from her shared groupchat with Gwyn and Emerie.

Clicking into her texts, Nesta scrolls back through the hundreds of messages to see what she missed.

Emerie: i can’t believe nesta isn’t here for this.

Emerie: what the hell is she doing

Gwyn: probably hanging out with her best friends the inner circle

Gwyn: or getting railed

Emerie: >:(

A tired laugh escapes Nesta as she reads the texts, and she’s grateful for the reminder that these are her chosen friends. This is her found family, and she’ll be back with them soon.

Scrolling a little further back, Nesta finds the cause of all the commotion.

Emerie: A RACCOON JUST FELL THROUGH MY CEILING IM GONMA DUE &%!@

Emerie: DIE

Followed by multiple pictures of a scarily large raccoon chewing up Emerie’s bed.

Nesta shudders at the images. Reminding herself to message the girls back as soon as she has her head on straight, she puts away the phone and drags herself out of bed.

Her knees wobble a little as she stands upright and slips her glasses on, but her body keeps moving automatically toward the door. It’s not until she’s halfway downstairs that she realizes she’s looking for Cassian.

In the main hall that cuts through the house, Nesta glances between the back door and the front door. Instinct tugs her toward the front door, and as she passes the living room she spies Elain knocked out on the couch.

One of her legs dangle off the edge of the cushion and she still has her shoes on, like she dragged herself up onto the loveseat in the middle of the night and fell straight asleep.

Cassian brought Nesta up to their room sometime during the night, and Rhysand would have done the same for Feyre, but Elain… Elain has no one to carry her to her room, Nesta realizes.

Hating the unusual feeling of pity that blooms inside of her, Nesta goes over and grabs a throw blanket from nearby. She flings it haphazardly over Elain’s body. There, that should do it.

She might take a few seconds to tuck the blanket in a little better, but then she’s out the front door and jogging down the porch steps. Early morning dew beads the grass, and the sun isn’t high enough in the sky yet for the heat to be unbearable.

Like perfect timing, Cassian’s form appears from the lightly wooded running trail that circles the lake. He has his hair tied up and is wearing nothing but workout shorts, and even from this distance Nesta can see the sweat gleaming off his hardened chest.

She forgets about her headache and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol coating her tongue. Her feet speed up on the grass, and then Cassian takes sight of her too. He grins wide and breaks into a run toward her.

When they’re mere feet away from each other, Nesta is the one to halt first and hold out a hand, blocking Cassian’s incoming bear hug. “Don’t you dare.” She eyes his body with a warning look. Nesta will do a lot of things for her boyfriend, but sticking her face into his sweaty pits is not one of them.

Cassian looks her up and down with scrutiny, trying to decide if going in for the hug anyway is worth it. “Fine,” he gives in. He spins on his heel and walks down to the head of the pier, where a standing shower is set up for washing off after swims in the lake.

Twisting the faucet, Cassian stands under the cold burst of water and gives Nesta a look that says, Happy now?

Nesta cautiously goes over to where Cassian stands, but she gets too close—

In a blink, she’s being tugged under the shower stream, held tight to Cassian’s chest.

“Cassian!” Nesta splutters, trying to pull away. Droplets hit her glasses and blur her vision, and she has to shove the glasses up into her hair so she can properly glare at Cassian’s face.

He only laughs deeply and tugs her closer. “Like you don’t smell either. You’ve been in that dress since yesterday.”

Nesta catches her breath under the pouring water, glancing down at her soaked sundress. Right; she probably needs this more than he does.

The water isn’t freezing like she expected, she realizes as she relaxes in Cassian’s arms. It’s actually the perfect temperature, almost soothing after the initial shock to her senses.

Broad hands stroke long lines across her arms, like Cassian is making sure that she isn’t uncomfortable. The action triggers an old memory inside Nesta—or rather, an old familiar feeling. The feeling of Cassian in Nesta’s early days of knowing him, always pushing her out of her comfort zone but never tossing her in the deep end to drown.

“I handled my sisters and your friends pretty well the other night, don’t you think?” she murmurs into his chest.

Cassian looks down at her with pure reverence in his eyes. “I can’t be surprised. You’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Brave as hell. From the minute you stepped outside of the little circle you’d drawn around your life, you became the bravest person I know.”

“Not true,” Nesta states matter-of-factly. “I can name at least three braver people.”

Cassian pokes her in the ribs, but his smile is good natured. “It’s just an expression, Nes. Take the compliment.”

The shower keeps spraying around them, refracting the sunlight to scatter rainbows across Nesta’s vision. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she tells Cassian earnestly. “I did the bulk of the hard work, but you…you gave me that first push. You taught me I could find safety in others, because you were my first real friend.”

Her words clearly take Cassian by surprise. Maybe it’s because Nesta is so rarely open about her true feelings, so her words have more value when she is. Maybe Cassian just wasn’t expecting to get so much credit, which is why he blinks rapidly now. “And what now?” he tries to tease, emotion tangled in his throat. “You have better friends?”

“Much better,” Nesta plays along, but her gaze carries all her sincerity. She suddenly laughs to herself, remembering: “I was terrible at socializing.”

It’s something she brushes off easily now, but few people will ever know that part of her inability to get close to others stemmed from a debilitating fear of rejection.

“Not to me.” Cassian reaches out to twist the faucet off, leaving the two of them standing soaked in the morning air. “I loved talking to you. I couldn’t stop wanting to talk to you, even if you didn’t feel like talking back.” That was how insistent he’d been on becoming her friend, that he would open up to her even when she was closed off to him.

Nesta watches Cassian tug his hair tie off, a little dazed by how much she feels for him in this moment. She isn’t ready for when he scrubs a hand vigorously through his loose hair, shaking the dripping strands out like a dog.

“Cassian!” Nesta scolds for the second time this morning. She flinches back at the water droplets hitting her eyes, making Cassian laugh when he looks back up at her. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. To make up for the assault, he delicately plucks her glasses off the top of her head and uses the hem of her wet dress to wipe off the lenses as best he can.

He slides the glasses back onto her face and nods, inspecting her. “That’s better.” Then he swoops down to kiss the mole beside her mouth.

Nesta wrinkles her nose in surprise. “What’s that for?”

“It’s a thank you,” he says. “Thank you for your car breaking down in the middle of the woods, and for agreeing to spend the night at my place last September.”

Nesta’s brows raise high in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Feyre? For calling in that favor with you?”

“One day, I’ll do that too,” he promises.

Nesta bites down on a smile and shakes her head, muttering, “Ridiculous.” Yet she can’t help but wonder: who would she thank?

The universe, probably. Whatever forces made it possible for her to wake up every day in the same bed as Cassian, eating the food he cooks and accepting the unconditional love he offers.

She suddenly shivers under the rising sun, becoming aware of how just uncomfortably her sundress clings to her body. Without Cassian’s words distracting her, everything is damp and cold.

Cassian notices and slips his hand into Nesta’s, already starting to pull her away from the pier and toward the house. “Let’s get you dry,” he says. “I’ll make us pancakes before everyone else wakes up.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“With chocolate chips.”

So hand in hand, the two of them walk back up to Cherrywood House.

***

a/n: IM FREE OF THIS BEAST. that ending was absolutely horrible to write, but i hope it satisfied you anyway. and if didnt, well, that’s what the epilogue is for

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