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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2022 18:57:30 GMT
eloise & edmund.
 Pain is weakness.[attr="class","mizocredit"] [newclass=.mizocredit a]font:bold 6pt calibri;letter-spacing:1px;color:#b5d1f1;[/newclass] |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2022 18:55:36 GMT
9. with (a) broken rib(s)
This was all his fault. It had to be. He was her father, head of the house, and most importantly to outsiders, the viscount. How could he go anywhere and hear 'right and honorable' when his very daughter had just been torn to shreds in the latest Lady Whistledown sheet? How could he even come home and look her in the eye, eyes that looked so much like his own, and tell her he loved her and that everything was going to be all right? He stormed out of the estate in a flurry. His eyes were reddened with the start of tears. His hands balled into fists. He wasn't even sure he knew what he was going to do. All he knew was that every time he closed his eyes he saw a disappointed Violet, wondering how he could have let this happen. He thought of everything that had happened with Daphne last season, every sheet written about her, every lady's gossip. Violet would have known how to navigate that and it was becoming clearer all the time that Edmund did not, ever protected by his gender and race. A small part of him even wondered if his family would better off without him, too. He stumbled into a bar. He wasn't even drunk yet. He just couldn't focus. He tried to have a couple drinks to calm his nerves, but all it did was put him more on edge. He started picking fights, asking anyone if they knew anything about Lady Whistledown before threatening them. He knew he shouldn't. He'd come to regret it in the morning. He certainly regret it as fists hit his jaw and ribs, cracking him open. It was a miracle he made it back to the house on his own, but he'd made enemies that night and no one was going to help him home. He shuffled through the door, leaning against it for support. He took a breath, closed his and nearly jumped when he saw his daughter. "El- Eloise, my dear. I am so sorry" was all he could muster. TAGS: @eloisebridgerton
NOTES: here we go aklsjakls
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2022 19:20:34 GMT
eloise & edmund.
No part of her blamed her papa, not even for a second. Everything that happened had been her own fault, there was no denying that – she was the one to go across town, the one trying to find Whistledown's true identity, the one who had gotten involved with political radicals, and perhaps most foolishly of all, the one who had trusted Penelope Featherington. Eloise's first season out in society had been full of mistakes, though she doubted if it had anything to do with her not having a female role model in her life. Plenty of the pushy mamas of the ton would blame exactly that, but Daphne had been the perfect diamond – and Eloise had always known she wouldn't be. It wasn't because her mother was gone, it was simply because being a wife and mother wasn't her dream. She wanted more – she wanted choices.After everything, it concerned her greatly when she heard her father had gone out that evening. Eloise's name had been published in Whistledown, scandal had surrounded her family, and it terrified her that he was out because of all that. He'd heavily implied he wanted to find the author, after all, and while she'd never tell him the truth...she was only an eighteen year old girl, she couldn't stop him from going where he wished, trying to find answers. That was why she was still awake, still hanging around, waiting for him to come home. Mrs Wilson had insisted she go to bed hours ago, as her siblings had done, but she'd refused. There was already enough scandal surrounding her, she'd already pissed the housekeeper off the previous season rifling through her things, did anything matter anymore? Not letting her family down any further was about the only thing she cared about. As Edmund came through the door, Eloise automatically rushed to him. The way he staggered suggested he'd been hurt, and that panicked her. Was she to blame? Had she caused this? A hand rested on his arm, as she studied him, grey eyes looking for whatever was amiss. "Whatever for, papa? I hardly think you're the one with anything to be sorry for. I'm the disappointment..." she paused, shaking that off. This wasn't the time to unpack that. "Where have you been? What happened?" [attr="class","mizocredit"] [newclass=.mizocredit a]font:bold 6pt calibri;letter-spacing:1px;color:#b5d1f1;[/newclass] |
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