#i've also got a slight bone to pick

[chromotps]

Hello! Been in the OP fandom for more than a decade (i miss the days where ace/luffy were a normal ship) and finding fics have been difficult.

Do you have any luffy/ace fic recommendations? Wishing you a good night!

hello! I wish I had been around for early acelu days... I was reading OP fic back then, but it was mostly zo/san 😅. I get what you mean, it's tough to find stuff for them these days that's not just luffy-harem stuff (which is fine! just not what I'm looking for) or ooc

I prefer fics that are mostly sweet and not too angsty, so my list won't include some of the ones that are really bittersweet/dark/endgame-tragic, even though they're beautifully written. I'm sure if you ask another acelu fan, you'd get a completely different list... I'm just a big weenie! 😭😂

I'm also really disorganized, so I'm probably forgetting a bunch!!! I need to keep better bookmarks omg

SFW Fics:

spinning on that dizzy edge by to-a-merrier-world (wayward_wolves) fav fav fav (helps that this was sort of a gift? based on some art I drew;;? hhh i love it so much) A sweet!!! and playful, relaxed scene between Luffy and Ace—who's joined the Stawhats!

this short fic by 002yb a really lovely, atmospheric piece of writing about the boys just being cute and speaking through touch

forget me not by 002yb a touch more bittersweet, but I loved how insightful this little look at Ace's last night with Luffy in Goa was

to be deserving by 002yb (after acelu week I need to have a separate section for 002yb!! tbh consider this a blanket rec for all their fics) adorable!! very nuanced, quick look at some courtship (or lack thereof) (but hope for some in the future?) between ace and luffy in an omegaverse AU

Bridesmaid Blues by Anonymous so much fun!! a rom-com style take on Luffy and Ace eloping in canon. Hilarious, and just makes me adore all the characters even more

In Your Heart Shall Burn by kayura_sanada oh my god. so it's a fix-it fic that involves a mysterious mirror and wishes. the tone feels just like canon with maybe a hint more bittersweet hopefulness, and the heartfelt moments between ace and luffy in this MELTED ME INTO PIECES. this will be one of my forever favorites.

oxytocin by ruche Gen fic but the author has other great shippy acelu work; this one is, post-marineford-ace-lives scene with Ace being worried and grateful for Luffy... the characterization is amazing

Near Death Experiences by monch_monch (WIP) This is a reincarnation AU, and it's got one of my absolute favorite acelu scenes in one of its flashbacks... I love everything about this fic—the way the other characters are brought in, and how cute and heartfelt Ace and Luffy are... I can't compliment it enough

The Same As You by PeachyStud (WIP) (jksgfhd oops i put this is sfw when the latest chapters have some messing around in it, but... i'll just leave it here) This one's a very sweet and fun modern AU—I reread it when I just need some feel good acelu fluff.

Next Stop, Everywhere by NewWonder This fic is the 2nd part of an "Ace lives and sails with Luffy" series, but it's my favorite of the 3 parts because it focuses a lot on Ace getting to work through his heartache 😭

Together Again by Swinky Swanks (SpobSpucci) A sweet, short piece about when Ace visits Luffy in canon

I'll Always Want You by PeachyStud This is part 1 of another "Ace lives in canon" series—this fic focuses on Luffy asking Ace to join his crew during their 2 years training and is SO cute and lovely. Part 2 is also a treat (and rated M 👀)

Arrangements by Sully-van I feel a little crazy for including an FF.net story on here, but this little royalty/arranged marriage AU just made me smile.

Find the Hat by authenticaussie  funny, slightly bittersweet AU where luffy's a ghost in ace's university library. i know, unusual concept, but a quick, fun read

(Ir)Responsible by oumriel (WIP!!!!! probably permanently from the looks of things) okay I have to recommend this one—it's a modern AU with drama/slow burn, and some incredibly heart-warming moments and really interesting characterizations. it does end on a heart-breaking cliffhanger, but... acelu seems to be a little bit cursed with WIPs, in the end, haha

Sleeping Habits by RainyCatharsis surprisingly fluffy soulmate AU where a soulmate who's died stays in their partner's dreams until they're both ready to move on. short and sweet!

on brotherhood by LadyCrimsonAndBlack another gen fic; age-swap! older Luffy runs into Whitebeard and makes sure Ace is happy on his crew

Lock; Key by Anonymous (SFW.... for now. since there's only 1 chapter up) very interesting modern, omegaverse AU with cool worldbuilding

NSFW Fics:

Hatchling by Anonymous good old-fashioned "not too loud or dad will hear us" modern AU incest. haha. really, this one is a nice mix of cute and dirtyhot, with a looooot of teasing smug ace

and what do they say about dreams by ruche uhh. a smut fic that... focuses on Ace's narcolepsy? it's surprisingly cute and funny—mind the tags, but I really enjoyed it!

Tearjerker by necroesthe OKAY so I love a lot of Necro's acelu fics... They do tend to skew darker, so that's a good thing to remember if you go browsing. This fic, though, is an adorable and fun and hot modern AU, with Ace thinking Luffy looks cute when he cries.

for the asking by irrelevant  another modern AU, I love the relaxed dialogue and vibe of this one. There's something about Ace and Luffy acting like dumb brothers while also being devoted to each other that gets me every time.

You're Built from Motorcycle Exhaust, Cigarette Smoke, and Starlight by Novicecomics Modern AU, really atmospheric story about biker!Ace and Luffy going on a little adventure and being in love

born hungry by ruche hard to summarize... i guess, modern AU, drunk/troubled ace has surprisingly sweet sex with luffy. this author always captures such a like, darkly funny, wry attitude with ace, and their luffy is a treat. still good to check the tags!

the blood of my brother by fizzyren another maybe odd one. uh. short summary is, acelu period sex with trans luffy. i'm not usually into those kinds of fics but this one got me down, what can i say

I'd also like to recommend my own Once Piece fics... I think they're all pretty sweet, and not too bad if I do say so myself. :3c

Anyway!! Hope this helps! And pls feel free to tell me your thoughts on any of em............. 👀

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Alastor + apprentice!child!reader

A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)

Reader is kinda scary but means well overall

Not proofread

Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.

Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.

When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"

"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"

As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."

"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.

"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.

"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.

Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"

After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."

Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.

Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.

"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.

"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.

"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."

"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.

Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.

"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.

Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.

As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.

You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.

A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-

[meowordeath]

Howdy! Is it alright if I ask for you to make a continuation of the “Characters reacting to reader’s clothing ripping”? And possibly with Edgar Valden, Mike Morton and whatever others you’d like?

Identity V characters reacting to their s/o clothes getting ripped! part 2 :3

w/ Edgar Valden & Mike Morton !

A/N : I really hope I didn’t write them too ooc, also sorry this took forever.

content warnings - sfw, mentions of blood, Bane, Violetta, fluff

Edgar Valden

You had been kiting for most of the match trying your best to keep the hunter, who is bane, away from Helena. You were provoke emoting at him which was just angering him.

If Bane could talk you don’t even want to guess what he’d say. “Surprised even with all those traps you still can’t catch me!” You provoke, he grunts angrily at you swiping his hook.

Using your sprint you duck behind a pallet. right behind that Edgar was there pallet stunning him, getting his face in the process.

“How unsightly, a rouge animal.” Edgar says to Bane as he begins painting his face. You and Edgar kite side by side a moment.

“Shouldn’t you be decoding?” You ask pulling him out of the way of Banes hook. “You came to my cipher.” He says bluntly as he finishes his painting.

He quickly placed it down. “Since you don’t want my assistance i’ll go decode.” He feins a somber tone as he rushes off.

Finally after letting 4 ciphers pop and putting trap quite literally everywhere, Bane downed you. He picked you up angrily and slamming you down into the chair.

When he slammed down the harness carelessly, not listening as you curse at him in pain.

“Cipher Machine Primed!” Helena’s voice could heard shouting out. Edgar was sprinting towards you, narrowly missing Bane’s hook.

And when he went to pulled up on the harness it didn’t lift up as usual. “It’s stuck..!” He says struggling against with the harness.

Your top had gotten enclosed when Bane carelessly chaired you, with one final tug Edgar got it up. It tore your shirt, nothing inappropriate was exposed thankfully.

Before Edgar could apologize Banes hook, which usually latched onto your clothes bit into you ripping your skin.

He downed you again. The cipher quickly popped, you get back up running away. Edgar put down his final painting escaping from Bane’s view with you.

You could hear banes angry growl. crouched down beside a wall Edgar look at your bleeding wound. “I’m sorry.. if only I had been more careful, his hook wouldn’t have taken a chunk of your skin like that.” He sounded so remorseful.

“It’s not your fault, the costumes they give out aren’t great quality anyways..!” You comfort him patting his hand.

“Hey on the bright side at least you didn’t expose me in any type of way.” You joke, he laughed lightly. “If I had don’t worry, I wouldn’t have let that animal see you.” And you believed that, especially with his loving gaze.

Mike Morton

Mike begged you to watch him practice some tricks outside, you really didn't want to since the last time you had watch him practice you had been hit in the face with one of his muddy bombs.

“Please, please, please, please” He says following you around hands clasped. He’d been saying it nonstop it was starting to not sound like a real word.

You turn around hands slamming down on his shoulders. “Mike, my dear Mike.” You say with a slight twitch in your eye.

He did bother listening to your refusal. “My dearest s/o, please come see this cool trick I've been practicing!” He said with a grin.

Mike was tugging you toward an empty room, which he had the help of Marg to turn into a practice room. “Now the thing about this cool and totally awesome trick is I need a partner” He gave you a smile.

“No way, your gonna have to find someone else to do it. I don't have a flexible bone in my body” You say trying to escape.

He quickly wrapped himself around you, quite literally koala attaching himself to you. “No wait, please! I tried practicing with Marg but I thought my performance would be better if it was with my sweet, handsome, beautiful, stunning-”

“Buttering me up isn’t gonna be enough to convince me, to allow you, to throw me around.” You push against him but it was like he was glued to you.

He just whined like a child, begging you. “Fine, one trick!” Too tired to argue against him you give in. Mike lets out a cheer, untangling his limbs from you.

“You have to get into some different clothes though” He turns to grab something, before holding out a similar acrobatic spandex outfit to his own. “Look we’ll have matching costumes!”

You sigh, taking the outfit going to change into it. “I have no Idea how you wear your acrobat costume in matches, it is tight in all the wrong places”

“Well I’ve been doing acrobatics for years now so I'm used to it. Now come on I’ll walk you through it, step by step, don’t worry!” He grins hands on your waist.

He did keep to his word walking you slowly through each move. It was easy to understand, still didn’t make your body any more flexible.

When it came to do the trick in real time you had messed up and Mike's hand placement in the wrong place.

In attempt to stop you from falling on your head Mike gripped tightly onto the tight spandex material. A tear sound echoed around the room as well as the sound of you also hitting the floor.

Mike quickly covered his eyes standing frozen holding like half the costume. "I swear I didn't see anything!" He still has his hand over his eyes, and a bright red blush on his face.

You give a weak glare up at him. "I am never doing acrobatics with you again Mike." He just nods still covering his red face.

I honestly am not very happy with Mikes but I tired. This isn't proofread

[redhead-batgal]

Type: One-Shot (First part- Drabble) {If you want things to make sense you probably should read it, the first part, 😁😁😁}

Pairing: Fem! Student! and Soulmate! Reader x Damian Wayne/Robin

AU: Soulmate! Reader

Content: Swearing, angst, teenage stupidity, aged up kiddos 16/17, technical talk about soulmates, lowkey frustrations, some much angst yall, some fluff, mythology, toxic parents, and soul crushing

Word Count: 7,233

(P.S: Okay so this is going to be continuing from the I Feel a Sin Coming On drabble, I've been getting a few comments on it asking for a part two and someone sent in a request for a Shy and Smart Student! Reader with Damian and let's just say the gears in my head started turning. Anyways this could go on if you guys want it to, but it could also end like this! It will break you. I hope you all enjoy! :D)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While, unfortunately, it's true the somewhat cruel existence of soul mates was around and kicking, love- true love was still there. Or at least it was believed to be there. It supposedly thrived even more for some reason. Some speculated that it was because there was a standing of everyone deserving love. Whether they were good or bad or in-between, they got someone who would love them for the rest of their life regardless of all the mistakes they made or continue to make. Others said it was because the universe deemed people good enough to have someone for the rest of their lives. Which seems a little close minded for a society in which everyone has a soulmate. But maybe that was because of the belief that if things didn’t work out with your soulmate- if you didn’t love them as you should or didn’t get the love you thought you deserved- it was because you weren’t good enough. Weren’t good enough to get the right kind of love. But in the end soulmates do exist. They exist and are for everyone. For each person you pass on the road, there is someone out there for them. Just as there's someone out there for you.

But the daunting notion that you have to be the right kind of good to get your perfect love chilled you to the bone. After all, if it wasn’t perfect what did that say about you? Because in the end weren’t they made for you? Maybe that’s why some still believed in true love, that it was real. Both because of and not because of soulmates. Rather because of the concept. Someone made just for you. Even if that person was flawed-if you are flawed, just as they were made for you, you were made for them. But sometimes, what is made for you can harm you a lot more than what’s not. 

It was why you believed that the reason true love might still exist was actually because some people fell for their soulmate before they realized they were fated to be. Before that dreaded bond-that agonizing pull kicked, of their own free will they fell in love. Because they didn't have to suffer through the pull of a bond they never wanted, these people were blissfully ignorant of what forced love was like. They did not know the horrors of those forced to stay with someone their heart loved but mind did not. And despite all your animosity towards soulmates, despite your fear and hatred, what made this all the worse-all the more ironic-was that you were technically one of those people. 

Before you even knew what a soulmate was to you-before you were old enough to recognize the pull, to feel, it’s dark and fervent demand for attention-you fell for him. For his laugh: in the way he tilted his chin back as if trying to suppress its joyous sound and his smile: in the way the corners of his would curve showing a slight dimple in his left cheek and revealing the softness his eyes could have. For his kindness: in the way he disregarded what others said and lived his life freely as himself despite the demand of society for him to be like the rest-to be normal. For his mortality: in the way he would never allow bullies to pick on others around him, even if he thought they needed to toughen up. But most importantly for the way he tried each and every single day to learn more and be better even if you’re the only one who noticed. For the way he seemed to be all what you dreamed, something that should have caused you suspicion but instead drew you in. 

That is until your 13th birthday and, much like many before you, you felt the tug of that dreaded bond.

You were six when you decided to loathe soulmates. Six when you swore on your very soul- your existence that you would never love your soulmate. You swore to live in misery of your own making rather than fates. No matter who they were, you would hate them.

But fate... well fate hated to be tested. So, fate did the worst thing it could. It made you fall for the one person you swore never to.

Your soulmate.

Your very own soulmate who seemed like the only light in the dark and suddenly you began questioning whether or not these feelings- these emotions you had thought were your own and genuine- were actually yours. Or if they were just fate pulling its strings and making you dance and dance and dance.

To say you were upset was an understatement and... well let's just say fate might be prideful, but you were twice as petty.

At age thirteen you shoved the emotions you had so dearly cherished so deep in your chest they seemed like nothing more than echoes of naive mind. You distanced yourself from him and only let yourself feel in your loneliest of moments.

Four years, it had nearly been four years since you had begun your battle against fate. And- and and fate was getting stronger... as you have been told. The older you get- the closer you are to your soulmate, the stronger the bond is.

Those moments... those lonely moments happened more often, and those stupid annoying emotions rose up with the beating of your traitorous heart.

Which is exactly how you ended up in the last place you ever wanted to be. Face to face with your soulmate... with them recognizing you and what you were to them.

"I'm your soulmate." Damian Fucking Wayne said his eyes locked on you as you felt your heart jump to your throat and all the color drain from your face.

"Fucking shit, " You whispered, unable to break his gaze.

Shaking-hand shaking and heart pounding at your rib cage demanding you acknowledge him-that you give in and tell him he’s right. That you are soulmates and let fate drive you. But there was something fate and your treasonous heart seemed to forget. You were one petty bitch. 

Weakly smiling you let out a nervous laugh and turned, avoiding eye contact. Eyes darting around they finally settled on your bare wrist as your other hand scrambled to gather your things against your trembling chest.  

"Oh- my,” Your voice cracked as you shoved your things into your bag, “would you look at the time! I need to get going." 

Fingers racing over the items in your bag you went to zip it close and make your escape when your eyes rested on your final item. The book you were reading earlier. Which just so happened (damn you fate) to be right in front of Damian. Eyes raising to him, gazes latching for just a moment you did the one thing you should not. You looked down, down and back at your book before making the stupidly impulsive decision to lunge for it. Your fingers brushed the cover, nails barely scraping lines into it when a hand-warm and firm clasped around your wrist. Pulling you back towards the table in a quick tug that caused your stomach to slam against the tables side. Wincing you stabbed your nails into your palm, not daring to look up. You had fallen for his trap, the oh so obvious trap you could have avoided had you just not looked at him. 

"I'm your soulmate," He said again, his voice clear and stanch as he gently pulled on your arm, clearly trying to get you to meet his eyes, "and you are mine."

Soulmate- God why did you have to care about him. Why- why-did it have to be him? Why-

why couldn’t fate just leave you alone?

Something about the tone of his voice made your heart shatter. It was almost desperate, but you couldn’t-you couldn’t allow yourself to be weak. After all, you would not let fate win. Petty- you were so violently petty and prideful- oh even fate knew this yet- it still tried... this- you wouldn't let this stand. You could-no would not allow fate to get away with even attempting this. Taking a breath in-a deep breath- you raised your chin. Steadying your mind with the thoughts of your parents, of how you needed to be around them. Calm, poised, emotionless. Ignoring the well of tears in your throat and the pressure behind your eyes you finally met his gaze. 

Green. All you could see was those beautiful green eyes, wide and desperate. Yearning-yearning for you to give a reply. But the one you were about to give would only hurt those eyes, regardless, it needed to be done. One pain- one moment or time of pain and sorrow was far better than a life of them.��

Slowly letting out the breaths you previously let in you tilted your head, feeling his grip on your wrist lightening. 

“I do not have a soulmate," You began instantly seeing the surprise on his face-the confusion, so you continued, “I won’t have one. Not you. Not anyone. You see, I don't believe in soulmates. So, I do believe you are mistaken.” 

His grip dropped but seeing the broken look on his face made your facade crumble in an instant as your heart screamed to stop. To comfort him. To take back your words and press yourself into his arms. But you were smarter than that, even if you weren’t strong enough to hide the tears anymore. Throat bobbing, you felt your mouth tremble as your eyes stung and something warm began spilling down your cheeks. 

Pulling yourself away from him, you smiled a bitter smile, not even daring to acknowledge the tears you were shedding. Head high, you turned. 

Voice cracking, you bid farewell, “Now, if you excuse me, I have to get going.”

Feet scrambling you nearly dashed out the door, leaving the book that got you into this mess behind. After all, it was now only going to hold harish and painful memories. 

As soon as your feet touched the gravel, you ran. Tears freely spilled down your cheeks and you sobbed and panted. Mind trying it’s best to soothe the heart that had just torn itself into pieces. But there was nothing it could do. There was nothing you could do but cry and run. Run away from him. From all the pain you had and were going to feel. It was hell, yes. But at least it was yours. At least you knew how and why it had happened, at least you knew what was to come. At least you were still you right?

By the time you had finally calmed your tears-though your heart was still howling, you had made it home. Wiping your tears you took a deep breath in and held it, hoping it would steady your mind and breathing enough to face what was about to come. You hesitated for a moment, then let the breath out wiped your face again and walked up to the door. It was then you heard the shouting. The rage filled voices cursing at each other, dishes and shoes flying, shattering and knocking things about. 

Hand trembling you pushed down the doorknob and walked in. The barrage of insults and dissonance of things being thrown slammed into you. Your feet shuffled across the floor as you saw the shadows in the kitchen, too caught up in their most recent argument to even acknowledge your existence-that is until they came into view. 

“God you never listen!” Your father roared

“Better than sitting on my ass doing nothing all day!” Your mother countered

Quivering you slowly moved towards the staircase as their fight pushed into the living room. Your father’s hands waved as your mother rolled her eyes at him, arms crossed. 

“Really that’s how you’re gonna be?”

“Yeah it is.”

“Fine then, I’ll just take this lazy ass of mine and leave!”

“GOOD!”

With that your father turned and stormed past you straight out the door, slamming it behind him. You flinched and turned to see your mother staring at you. 

“Ugh! I can’t believe him,” She hissed before she shook her head, scowling, “absentee father, sitting on his ass all day while I make the money and take care of the needless kid. God, pregnant at 18- now married to that loser! My life went down the drain. If only it weren't for you...”

Those words stabbed at your heart, sinking in their little daggers in the spots they knew best. You knew she didn’t mean for you to hear them, but you always did.  It wasn’t the first time you had heard things like this, but it did seem to hurt all the more due to what happened earlier this afternoon. Sniffing slightly, you lowered your head and your voice cracking as you had to fight off more tears whimpered,

“I’m sorry mom.”

As if a flip switched your mom’s brown furrowed and scowl dropped. She looked you over, concern in her eyes and she took a step forward. 

“Are you okay honey? You don’t sound too good.”

Raising your head you tightly smiled and nodded, “Of course, just stressed cuz of school. I’ve got some exams coming up and it’s causing my emotions to be all over the place.”

She nodded eyes raving over you, resentment heavy in them as she plopped onto the couch with sigh, “Okay, you better be doing good in school alright? Don't want you to end up like that louse of man your father is.”

You nodded again, “Of course! Actually I was about to go and study.”

“Good, you do that.” She replied as she picked up the remote and flipped on the T.V.

You paused, for just a moment watching her as the resentment began to slide from her eyes, her face softening. She was so pretty, yet harsh lines from constant scowls and frowns bore their way onto her cheeks. Line surrounded her eyes from the tears and sleepless nights. And it was all because of you. Turning, your hands tight on your bag, you raced up the stairs, dashing towards your room where you collapsed onto the ground the second the door was closed. Hand against your face you pressed your head against the door and bit your lip. You did not have the luxury of more tears.  

Turning you found yourself looking at your own reflection. The combination of your mother and father. The perfect combination. It made you wonder what they saw when they looked at you. Did they see a reflection of themselves? Or just an echo of the person they loathed to love. You knew for a fact they never saw you, just you. It was always tied with one or the other. You could tell because today your mother avoided your eyes, that was because you had your father’s eyes. So today, she must have seen him in you. At least until your hair covered your face-her hair- and she saw herself. Maybe that’s why she softened; you didn’t truly know. They loved you, yes. But only because they saw themselves in you. Because on the good days, they saw each other. Because in a way you were them. What hurt the most though, was not when they saw each other or themselves in you. But the fact that they would never see you. And if your parents, the people who were supposed to love you the most, the people who brought you into this world could never see you, who could? 

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It had nearly been a week since you last saw and denied being soulmates with Damian Wayne. In said period you spent your free time dodging Damian and all his friends as well as digging your nose into every soulmate lore, history or origin you could find. While you didn’t want a soulmate, that didn’t mean Da- you soulmate should suffer because of it. So, you had made it your mission to discover if there was any way you could break the bond now. Research had told you that if one party ignored the bond for long enough it would fade for the other. But you didn’t know how long that would take and merely telling Damian you weren’t soulmates tore you up so badly that the mere sight of him sends you into tears. Therefore, you needed to find a way to break the bond. Both for yourself and for Damian. 

But as far as you could tell it was impossible. Every single myth, origin and lore of soulmates explained them as the other half of each other, inseparable even incomplete without the other. Part of you hated that thought. That you were incomplete without your soulmate. Because weren’t you a person, able to function live, laugh and love all on your own? Without a soulmate? Only Greek mythology even considers you as whole without your soulmate. Though it does say that they are meant to be together and once they meet they will not want to part. Which did not read well for your plans. In Chinese mythology there was the Red String or Red Thread of Fate 

A tangible string, perhaps it was something that could be broken. But from what you read it could not, at least you could not cut it or tear it with your hands. It cannot be broken. It cannot be broken. It can-

Taking a deep breath in, you rubbed your brow. It didn’t really make sense to you that the string or thread or whatever it was couldn’t be broken. It also didn’t make sense that a soulmate was to be bound to you for life. Logically speaking there had to be a loophole. Afterall no one feels their bond until they are thirteen. If you were truly bound for life, you would always feel it. Therefore, there must be a workaround. A way to break the bond or someone- or someone to break it- to remove it. 

Since it is not there from the beginning it cannot be like in the Greek, Jewish or Hindu myths. But it might be connected to that string of fate theory. And there was one person who you could think of that might be able to remove or break the bond. The very person who put it there. And if the Chinese myth is right it’s Yuè Xià Lăorén or Yuè Lăo. But as far as you could tell no one was meeting old men at night right before their thirteenth birthday. 

It felt like a lost cause. You doubted anyone actually ever seriously tried to break their soulmate bond. No one ever seemed to have your determination or rather stubbornness. Most people would have surely given up by now, but you desperately needed a way. Because despite how much you hated it, how much it made you hate yourself. You couldn’t help but love him. And it terrified you. 

Your parents started out in love and now they were-... it’d be difficult to say what they had was anything other than torture. Day in day out fighting. Yelling and screaming. Shouting. Such anger at someone they were supposed to love. It made you wonder, were they really in love? Were they really supposed to be each other's happy ever after? Each other's eternity? If so, what did that mean for you? Did that mean you were doomed to be stuck in the same cycle of love turning to hate? Did that mean that you were going to lose a love you always told you had? Did that mean that you were going to die unloved? It was a fear- your biggest if you were being honest. That the person who was supposed to love you forever, doesn’t really love you. And you could take the chance. Not with what you knew- what you’d seen. There was no way in hell you were ever going to let that happen.

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It was truly unfortunate that you just so happened to have a mother deeply involved in her job. One that resulted in her dragging you to a gala because she needed to show she had the perfect little family. What a joke. A cosmic joke as said gala was happening at none other than Wayne manor. And its host? You guessed it,  Bruce Wayne himself with his gaggle of children all in attendance. How did you know this? Well, your eye caught one of the many children. The one you were trying your hardest to avoid. 

Damian Mother Fucking Waye.

And it seems you caught his eye as well, because the second he looked in your direction his face lit up. That is until you turned away from him, the next you saw the color drained from his face and he practically stormed out of the room. Though any random bystander would have thought he calmly exited, you knew better. Which was valid considering you had basically spit in his face and said he wasn’t good enough. But it still hurts. Nowadays it seems that everything hurts. Though it was all probably due to the bond you were so determined to reject. 

So, to dull the pain you clung to the walls of the ballroom. Heavily nursing the glass of champagne you snagged from an unassuming waiter. It had been probably close to two hours since you arrived and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through it, however you most definitely did not want your parents to see. You were underaged and they wanted to keep their ‘perfect’ image intact. Which is partially the reason why when the people began to make their rounds around the ballroom, you decided to slip out. Though you abandon your drink, you thought wandering around the manor’s halls might help you relax even if it was only a little bit. 

Wandering down the darkened corridors you listened to the faint music that trailed after you as you got further and further away from the ballroom. Night encompassing each hallway you turned down it wasn’t long till the sounds of the strings playing was nothing more than a faint humming like the buzz of a fly. Darkness and silence swallowed the area-well near silence. The creaking and settling of the manor seemed to be the only sound. That is until you hear a clattering and an all too familiar voice cursing in another language. 

Maybe, it was due to the slight buzz those sips of champagne gave you-maybe it was the exhaustion from the days of fighting off your feelings-or maybe it was because the pull was just too strong; you walked towards the sound and pushed a door open to find a disheveled Damian Wayne sitting in on a couch, a bottle of whisky clutched in his hands, a crystal glass at his feet with half melted ice cubes surrounding it. 

He did not seem to notice your presence, so you slowly began to venture closer. Noticing his messy hair, unbuttoned shirt and missing tie. Why did he have to look so damn beautiful? Better hearing his mutterings which were half in English, you pause to listen. 

“Seems like Todd was correct,” He mumbled as a hiccup stalled his sentence, “this does improve everything… or perhaps not.” 

His body shifted as he hiccuped again, and had you not seen it yourself you would not have believed that the high pitched sound came from him. It almost made you laugh, but you were able to restrain yourself and move closer. This time, it seems Damian heard you as his head snapped in your direction. He blinked a few times almost as if he was trying to get water from his eyes. Head tilting he narrowed his gaze, voice slurring as he asked, “Y/N?”

Sighing you nodded and walked even closer until you stood in front of him. Smiling slightly you waved and took a deep breath in before replying, “Hi Damian.”

He blinked more, brow furrowing as he muttered something you could not catch. Sinking deeper into the couch he gave you a blank look. 

“So have you come to inform me of our ‘non-existent bond’? Because I assure you if you do not wish to discuss it with me I will leave it alone.”

You raised an eyebrow and crouched so you could be eye level with him. Meeting his eyes you found yourself once again admiring their beauty.

“Really? Then thank you. I appreciate that.” You paused concern stirring so strongly in your chest you couldn’t help but let the worry take hold, “ But I’m not here for that.” 

Damian sat up glaring at you and you did not move, swallowing as he got a bit closer. 

“Then what are you here for?”

“I’m worried about you.”

As if it was instinctual, he replied, “And who's fault is that.”

Though he winced afterwards despite you merely sighing at his comment. Resting your chin on your knees you gave him a sad smile and nodded. 

“You’re right… I owe you an explanation.”

Heart in your throat you met his eyes again and asked, “Would you let me give you one?”

Silence thrummed between the two of you for a lot longer than you would have liked. His gaze not leaving your face as you took a deep breath in and let it out. You should have done this from the start and at the very least if things go awry he probably won't remember any of this. 

His hand gesturing to the place next to him he said, “Sit.”

You snorted and rose to your feet. Then the seat next to him shifted a bit awkwardly before you turned to him. He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes as he took another swig from the bottle. It stung far more than you would ever admit seeing him like this. But- but it would fade. It will fade. He won’t be like this forever. He won’t. 

“So… I should probably tell you why I don’t believe in soulmates.”

He grunted in reply, and you weakly laughed, “I-hmm… this is rather hard to explain. You see my parents are soulmates and they-”

You stopped yourself, watching as he stared across the room. Realizing that telling him about this was letting him in. And you could not let him in. Biting your lip you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut as you once again fought off tears. 

“I really don’t like their relationship. I hate it. And and to me it seems everyone with a soulmate is miserable. They aren’t happy. Shouting, arguing, fighting. I will not risk the chance of being like my parents. I refuse.”

He was looking at you now. Brow furrowed and the bottle slipped between his fingers. Your voice cracked and you winced, swallowing as you shrugged. 

“I- i am a coward. I refuse to take any chances because I don’t want to get hurt.”

The unspoken ever again hung on your lips as your parents' rage flashed through your mind. Fingers picking at one another you looked down. Unable to keep eye contact without crying. 

“I’m scared and- and worried and and I- I’m so sorry. You deserve better and i-”

His hand was over your mouth and you blinked in confusion looking up to see him pinching his nose, bottle still in hand. 

“Please silence your excuses.” Damian snapped, “I will not hear anyone talk about you that way.”

Something jolted in you and you froze, tears springing to your eyes, you nodded and he removed his hand. Fingers darting to wipe away tears you began to turn from him. His hand batted your fingers away and cupped one of your cheeks. The other still clutching the whiskey bottle half cupped the other. Damian pressed his forehead against yours and looked you in the eyes. 

“I care not that you are a coward. I care not that you are running away. I understand your unease, I understand your logic. But I disagree. I can do no better than you, my soulmate. My other half. I will be here for you and will ease your fears, I will drive your worries away and treat your scars. Emotional or otherwise. I am here for you. I do not know what I have to do for you to understand I am yours. Whole and solely yours. As you are mine. Please- I beg you. Tell me what I must do for you to allow me to love you to my fullest capacity.” 

Unable to look away, your heart taking control as that bitter bond turned soft and sweet you began to cry. Tears spilling down your face, you pressed your forehead more against his, words slipping from you before you could even think. 

“Be forever mine and let me be forever yours,” You whispered. 

Something softened in his eyes, a warmth in them you desperately wanted to see but hoped you never did. He began to lean in a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his hands shifted, the bottle falling from his grasps as he muttered,

“Was that ever in doubt?”

You tilted your head and his lips pressed against yours. He tasted of bitterness, a darkness that burned so sharply it had you clinging to him. Hands bunched in the cloth of his shirt you found yourself leaning in. His arm wrapped around your waist and as he pulled you in tighter, body shifting as he couldn’t get you close enough. As if there wasn’t a way to hold you where he was near enough. It was as if he wanted to shift-sinking-melting completely and totally into you. 

Air, you had no air left, but who needed air? He was here. His touch gentle and constant, reassuring as he pressed against you, gripping you as if he was terrified the second he let you go, you would disappear. And he was right. 

You broke apart both gasping for air and his grip loosened. Foreheads pressed against each other he smiled, a smile that sent your already raging heart racing. His hand rested against your cheek, fingers playing with your hair. Squeezing his eyes shut he muttered,

“I love you.” 

Your heart skittered and-

Tug, there was a tug a mother fucking tug that made your whole-body ache. One that stole the air you had just barely regained. One that sent shivers up your spine and knocked some sense into you. 

You couldn’t breathe. Standing up suddenly, your head spun. Blinking a few times as tears sprang into your eyes you shook your head. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry.” 

And with that, you bolted from the room. Faintly hearing Damian calling after you, you rush down the hall brushing past a butler whose name you think is Alfred. He gives you a soft smile and you nod, quickly wiping away the tears. He paused but you kept moving. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of here now. No matter what it took. 

Feet nearly tripping over the other you stumbled back into the ballroom. There would be hell to pay later, you knew it. But if you stayed any longer you could get hurt beyond repair. Allowing the feeling of everything that had just occurred loose, you promptly burst into tears as you stumbled towards your stunned parents. Your mother frantically moved to you as your father’s eyes widened and he began speaking to the people before them. 

“Y/N, Y/N honey we’re in front of a lot of people. Can this wait?” Your mother whispered as she got closer.

Sniffling you collapsed into your mother’s arms, feeling her embrace again for the first time in nearly a decade. Trembling as sobs escaped you, you were able to get out. 

“I want to go home. Please. Please. Let me go home.” 

At first, she didn’t reply, then she began moving you towards the door. 

“Alright. Alright. Let’s get you home.”

She did not even turn in your father’s direction. After all, they had done what they always do, taken separate cars. Unable to quell the tears, you let your mother guide you out the door before he came to pull you back into fate’s vicious plot.

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Two days, you hadn’t left your room in two days. Not that your parents had noticed, not that anyone really did. You doubted anyone noticed your absences from class. You hoped no one would notice truthfully. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his face again. It was driving you crazy. So you locked yourself in your room and hoped-prayed-that these growing feelings would just die. Or maybe you could just die. That sounded like a solid solution as well. It was part of the reason why despite the late hour, despite living in Gotham you had unlocked and opened your window. 

There was a sound that awoke you, yanking you from the nightmares that never seemed to cease. And as you opened your eyes to the familiar shapes and silhouettes in your room you found one that did not belong there. 

"Who are you?" You whispered to the woman hiding in the shadows, not really caring if acknowledging her would lead her to strike. 

After all, who would lurk in the shadows of someone's room while they were sleeping unless you planned to kill them. It was a relief of sorts, that you were more than likely going to die soon. It would help you feel less guilt about Damian, about the situation that occurred a few nights before and the feelings that refused to listen to reason. 

Stepping into the moonlight the woman towered before you. Half her face tilted towards the light and you blinked twice almost recognizing it- but- but that couldn't be possible. There was no way you knew this woman. You hardly knew anyone, let alone an murder or assassin who would sneak into sleeping peoples rooms. 

"You don't have to worry about that.” She replied in a soft voice, her accent reminding you of something-something…something! 

You just couldn’t quite place your finger on what though. It nagged and nipped at your mind, tugging and swirling in faint recognition you could not connect. 

The woman took a step forward, her black hair swaying as she crossed her arms, her tone sharp and barbed, “I think who you are is a more important question.”

Her gaze did not leave you and you adjusted your blanket before glancing towards the open window almost blankly saying, 

"Nobody special I can assure you."

This caused the woman’s posture to relax a little. She hummed slightly as you crossed your legs and set your elbows on your knees. 

"Hmm, really?"

Nodding you rested your face in your hands as you looked at her shadowy figure. She seemed kind, in a way. She was at least talking to you before killing you. That was something was it not? 

"Just the byproduct of fate's meddling and destructive hands."

"Ah, your parents are soulmates?' Her stance relaxed even more and you noted how from what you could see her outfit was nothing like the things the Gotham vigilantes wore. 

"Unwilling but yes, soulmates." 

It was more of a snort than a reply, but it didn’t seem to phase the woman as she rested herself on your desk the moon light allowing you to see the curve of her jaw and shape of her nose. Familiar features that made your gut churn. 

"Oh, oh. I see. They did not choose-"

"To have me?” You interrupted with a sigh, shrugging you nodded, “I guess you could say that."

Silence followed and you saw the woman’s eyes narrow. She crossed her arms again, stance tightening. 

"... you do not seem the type to share your innermost troubles with a stranger, why are you talking to me?"

Pulling your face from your hands you gave her a shrug as a yawn slipped from your lips, "Well, for one I think you're here to kill me and two... I've needed to tell someone for a while. Why not a perfect stranger?"

"Your parent's fate troubles you that much?" Her voice seemed to begin carrying concern, which only troubled you because it made you think there would be a possibility she wouldn’t kill you. 

"They are living proof- hell I am living proof that soulmates shouldn't be forced together…” You paused crossing your arms with a scowl, “and because fate is cruel, I have a soulmate too. Despite how awful they are."

"Your soulmate is awful?"

Something in her tone said she did not believe what she was asking in the slightest. Which was true, yet it still caused that buzzing familiarity to ring just a bit louder. 

"n-no, he's not.”

Squeezing your eyes shut you sighed deeply, running your hands along your face, “ He's kind and- and all I could ask for but- but... how do I know he's all I want? How do I know any of this- any of my feelings are mine? How do I know that it isn't fate pulling my strings and wanting me to dance? How do I know he won’t leave? That the bond will only become apparent when we fight and won’t exist otherwise? When the love is gone and only the bond remains? How will I know that I won’t be abandoned again? That I won't be hurt again? That I will gain a love that will last? I won’t.  Not to mention even if I didn't like him... I would have to be with him."

"No,” The woman scoffed, “you wouldn't, dear."

"Yes, I would. My parents- they tried and now- now I live in the shambles of a home. They are together because of that damned bond even though they hate each other." You were crying now, of course you were, "fate does not like to be ignored and I don't like to be told what to do."

Angrily grabbing a tissue you blew your nose, faintly hearing the woman laugh. From what you could see, she had a look in her eyes that seemed soft- understanding. One you most certainly did not expect your killer to have. 

"Oh my, really?" She mumbled head turned towards the window. 

"Yes! I'd rather live in a hell I have control of, a hell I made rather than one fate forced upon me. If- if I ignore it enough... I heard it will fade for him, I- I will still feel it but- but because he tried, he will be spared. He'll have a chance- one I never had. And though- though I can't truly tell if these feelings are mine, it's all I want. I love him. I love him”

You stopped yourself trembling as you said it yet again, “I love him.”

Nodding you continued on, “and… I want him to be happy without me. Because- because I won't give way to fate, not even for him."

"Hmmm. I have a question for you.” 

“Yes?” You pulled the tissue box closer to you sure more tears would come. 

“Do you really want to die?”

“Excuse me?”

The woman shrugged, waving a hand, “It’s just, it hardly seems to me that you want to die. Rather it seems like you want to live.”

"What- I, I’m sorry I-." You were at a loss for words. 

She was smiling as she replied with a shrug, “You have told me of a cause you wish to live for, no? To fight against the soulmate bond. While I personally disagree with your choice, I hardly think dying will do anything other than let the bond win.”

“Wha-... I-,” You sputtered, mainly because what she said made sense. 

It made an insane amount of sense. So much so that it had your head spinning. Why exactly did you think dying was the best option? You may not have the best life, but it was yours right? 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” The whisper escaped not entirely directed at the woman but rather just as a declaration in general. 

The tears on your face felt silly and you blew your nose again as the woman sighed. Causing silence to spin about the room until she remarked,

"I believe I should be the one apologizing."

You laughed, wiping the tears from your face, "Why?"

"Because I'm not here to kill you."

Something in you skipped a beat and you shook your head. Of course she isn’t. Who would want you dead after all. You hadn’t done anything that would cause a reason to be killed.

"Oh darn." You snorted, rubbing the back of your hand across your face, "Here I am looking like a fool asking for something I don’t even want from someone who can’t even give it to me. Fate is cruel… Though life does seem crueler."

"Yes," She muttered looking over her shoulder at the window, "indeed it is."

A figure loomed where she looked, a familiar figure in green, yellow and red. The woman smiled at you again and she moved towards him patting him on the shoulder before climbing out the window. 

“It was nice to meet you Y/N.” 

Blinking in confusion you latched onto the vigilante who was now looming in between your room and the outside, "Robin? What are you doing here?"

He sighed, the woman disappearing as he rested on the window frame, "I am afraid it is quite difficult for me to explain at the moment."

"Wha-.... wait-wait."

In the silence of the night, with the slight breeze trailing in from the window where Robin was perched, you felt a tug. A heart wrenching tug you had felt just the other night. A tug that sent aches all over and made your throat tighten.

"...you're-oh."

Biting, you lip you fought off tears as he slowly entered your room. Breathing deeply, you began picking at your fingers before you finally found the courage to look him in the eyes.

He was right in front of you as tears spilled down your cheeks and through sharp stabs of pain you tightly smiled remarking,

"...hi Damian."

He was silent and you bit down harder, weakly you took in a breath. His voice was soft in reply,

"Y/N... are you- are you alright?"

You didn't know what to say. After all, he must have heard something... then again, he might not have but-

"How-" Your voice cracked as you avoided looking at him despite him being so close, but it was hard as you could feel the heat from his body, "how much... How much did you hear?"

His was quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut, heart dropping as you tasted blood. Pain dancing across your lips and air fighting to leave you. A tiny sob escaped you and you took a ragged breath in as you opened your eyes facing him. Rob-no Damian raised a hand and brushed it against your face before he leaned in. His lips almost pressed against your ear he said,

"I heard everything."

Tag List: @andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @neon-scenery @ssak-i @achromaticerebus @1lellykins @hyperfixiation-station @legendarylearner18

[mrs-kodzuken]

Fated Beginnings ♡

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

WC: 4.1k

Genre: fluff

CW: fem!reader, teeth rotting fluff, date set up by Kuroo, slight introverted!reader, slight cursing

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"Kuroo, I don't feel comfortable doing this," I mumbled looking back down at the current book I was reading.

"Come on, (Y/n). It'll be fun!"

I sighed placed my bookmark on page 146, and closed it. I didn't have the time or guts to do this.

"Kuroo, you said that last time and last time I got clumsy and fell, multiple times if I may add." I coldly told him, looking up.

We were in the library at school, he knows this is how I spend my lunch. And yet still continues to bother me endlessly.

"I promise this one will be different, I know Kenma better than the other dude." He pleaded at me. He has been trying to set me up with people for God knows what reason.

I sighed once again and lightly put a lock of my hair behind my ear knowing I've picked the habit up from reading too much.

"Fine Kuroo, but if this one goes wrong, I will not speak to you for a week and you cannot set me up with another person," I spoke firmly at him, making my point known.

His eyes lit up at me and squashed me into a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He shouted, very loudly, after letting me go.

"Calm down or else you're going to get us kicked out of here."

Kuroo and I have been friends since day one, literally. Well, not literally maybe about a year apart. However, I didn't exactly like how much of an extrovert he can be.

We grew up together and in most situations I'd stay inside, much to his dismay. So, I've never been a fan of being outdoors especially when it's a sunny day. I'd even go to the length and say I hate sunny days.

"Why are you like this.." I grumble quietly and pick my bag up from the library's carpet floor.

"Alright, so I've been planning this for a while. Hence, why I chose Saturday for the date because it's going to rain. You and Kenma are going to be staying at your place. I've been waiting for my best friends to meet for so long." The excitement but mischief in his voice concerns me just a bit.

I rolled my eyes and headed out of the library, seeing as I had to get back to class.

Even if Kuroo is a 3rd year, we still hang out together. Correction, he still pesters me to hang out with him.

I could have used all that time for catching up on books and sometimes on special occasions, diving into some fanfiction.

"I'll see you later (Y/n)." He sent me a sly wink and headed the other way.

Heading to class I took my seat, which was far from the front. I was glad about the seating arrangement, it could allow me to read while the teacher couldn't see me.

My desk mate, whose name I'm not even sure about, came and did his routine.

He also took advantage of being in the back but he used it on video games. I'm not sure why, but I guess we have different hobbies.

To be honest, I didn't even know his name. He was so quiet, two toned hair covering his eyes and gave about half of the time.

However, then again so am I.

Occasionally, I'd look up at the board to see if there was anything I needed to write down or listen to. As always, it was pure nothingness.

When the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. As I walked through the halls I continued my book because no bell is going to keep me from figuring out the murder mystery in this book.

I haven't ever stayed after school to watch Kuroo practice volleyball. I didn't see a point in it, I mean, I know he's good at it. He leads his team to nationals.

I passed and heard the squeaking sounds of their shoes and some harsh noises of balls being spiked.

"Kenma! Set me another one!" I heard a familiar voice speak up loud.

However, it wasn't the voice that attracted my attention, it was the name.

Kenma?

"No, that's your fifth one." I heard an annoyed voice speak from the gym.

I had the urge to go take a peek but then stopped myself.

Why should I? I have better things to be doing, like tidying up my room a bit and catching up on my weekend book.

Switching books occasionally wasn't a problem because my parents would always buy me more. I could even use my library card to go get more if needed be.

This meant that I had a huge bookcase filled with my favorite books in my room.

After securing my book mark, I glared up at the sunny sky. It pissed me off. I don't understand how someone could like sunny days over rainy ones.

After getting my house key from my pocket I unlocked my door. My parents did business work at the same office but would always get off late at night.

With that being said, I set my school bag down and grabbed my pink cleaning apron to start the process. I did a bit more than what I usually do, mopping the floors and dusting high places isn't a good match with someone like me.

When I got finished, I headed downstairs after tying my (h/c) hair up into a low bun and tied my cooking apron on me.

Just because my parents are gone doesn't mean that I can order pizza every night. And quite frankly, it gets boring.

I got started on an easy dinner, seeing as I wanted to get it over with. I felt like baked spaghetti was the easiest it was going to get considering I wanted a fulfilling meal.

After eating, a thought snuck into my head. I have to waste a perfectly rainy day on someone who probably wants to go out or something.

Why not just stay in the comfort of your bed and slob around in snacks and books? This is exactly why if there was a male version of me, I'd marry him immediately.

After cleaning the dishes I headed upstairs and started on my night routine. I grabbed an oversized grey shirt which said 'Do I care?' and some black shorts.

Knowing myself, that'd also be the outfit I'd wear when this 'Kenma' comes over tomorrow. I wasn't actively looking for a boyfriend so there's no reason to impress him.

Now that I thought about it, there wasn't anything weird I heard about Kenma from anyone.

I mean, I guess he got some love confessions from girls but he didn't waste his time on it.

I couldn't blame him, why waste your time on falling in love, which only ends in heartbreak by the way, when you can fall in love with fictional characters who'd never break your heart?

With those thoughts running through my mind, I set my book on my nightstand and turned off my lamp.

Now it's time for fanfiction, a small but devilish smile made its way onto my face as I opened Wattpad.

I'd always loved reading these, especially when they were about my favorite fictional character. I die inside a bit every day when I remember they aren't real.

Little did I know, I had stayed up a tad bit too late and before I knew it, it was 7:03 am.

I mentally cursed myself for doing this yet again. My eye lids were heavy and needed sleep however it was like some kind of drug to read fanfics.

I furrowed my brows and sat up hastily, shouldn't my parents have come in?

Pushing back my white covers with small pink roses on them, I grabbed a large red hoodie to go over my sweatshirt and some fuzzy socks. I headed to their room, surprisingly, it was empty.

I started getting worried and wondered if they had gotten in a crash or decided not to deal with me anymore. My parents weren't neglectful or anything but the anxiety didn't stop.

Those thoughts were the usual ones I'd always get whenever they did not come home.

I rushed to my phone and checked my messages, I didn't like getting notifications so I always turned on my reading focus mode.

Messages from my mom and dad came up on my notification screen. They stated that they had an emergency business trip to take.

I texted them back and sighed, they always do this.

I'm never mad or anything, I just wish we could have quality family time. But at the same time, I'm glad all the 'what-if's' were gone from my head.

I headed downstairs to put the kettle on, I wanted to make a cup of vanilla tea, my favorite. I smiled and peeked outside to see the rain coming down a bit harshly.

One of the reasons I love having a tin roof is that you can hear the sounds clearer. It was the most beautiful sound I loved hearing.

Just when I was just about to sip my tea, the doorbell rang.

Confusion rang across my face. I don't think I was expecting anyone this early.

Racking my brain for an answer, I opened it expecting Kuroo because he's just always there.

Running a hand through my hair, "Kuroo, it's Saturday, go home." I looked up to see not Kuroo, but my deskmate.

I stiffened, embarrassed. I immediately looked at my fuzzy socks and quietly spoke, "Oh, uh, you must be K-Kenma." I stumbled, my eyes widened a bit. I never stumble over my words.

He nodded and looked all over my flushed cheeks and lazy outfit.

Like the dumbass I am, I finally realized that it was still raining and he was bound to get soaked by the gutters if I didn't let him in.

I motioned for him to come and he mumbled a quiet, "Thank you."

I watched him like a hawk as he took off his shoes, setting them neatly beside one another. I awkwardly headed back to the kitchen for my tea then went up the stairs with him following me. I mean where else is he gonna go?

Wait, would he think I'd want something from him by immediately inviting him into my room? I shoved the weird thought from my mind and focused on where he was.

I sat on my unmade bed and grabbed my book from my nightstand. I clicked on the lamp, which was a beautiful, white flower lily.

"Uh, make yourself a home?" I questionably said, I never have been in a situation like this before.

I crossed my legs and opened my book as he sat on the edge of my bed which was weird. I had a white Ikea desk with a swirly chair, a reading nook in the corner, and a window seat. And yet, he sat on the edge of my bed.

After reading for a few minutes, I couldn't focus into my book. I mean, there's a strange sitting across from me. I looked up and he was playing on a switch.

That went on for hours.

Kenma had moved onto my bed more, sitting against the wall. His legs were crisscrossed and he was still playing his game.

I had leaned off the edge of my bed where half of my body was dangling off of it. I was hanging upside down and reading my book.

Kenma and I had settled into a comfortable silence and acknowledgment of each other. We hadn't touched but occasionally our eyes would meet when he lost a round or I discovered something juicy from my book.

The rain hadn't stopped which I was grateful for. I could feel the hunger rumbling in my stomach and I telling by his facial expression, Kenma was getting hungry too.

I sat up, earning the look of Kenma's curious eyes on me. I walked out of my room with the feeling of something that can only be described as nervousness in my belly.

I grabbed snacks from the kitchen, I wasn't sure how he felt about 'healthier' type snacks but it was all I had due to my distaste for 'junk' food. I returned  with the snacks and two bottles of water and two bottles of sugar free snapple.

Setting it all down on my bed, I took a few swings of my water while eating alongside him.

We resumed what we were doing after about fifteen minutes of silent eating

I guess Kenma had gotten comfortable with me because after eating he had set my legs in his lap. Well of course, asked me with his eyes, which honestly surprised me. He still had his eyes glued to the screen of his Nintendo switch.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang which made me jump. I had just gotten over the feeling of surprise from my legs in his lap and got to a good reading spot.

I sluggishly got up irritated at who would be at my door for the second time today. When opening it, I was faced with a bed-headed cat and his usual cheeky smirk. 

"What do you want Kuroo?" I asked quietly, afraid he would disturb my peace and quiet like he usually does. He waltzed right in, ignoring my question.

"Oya, so how are you two love birds doing? Hitting it off well?" He loudly spoke, which made me wince.

Kuroo headed up to my room with me, of course, trailing along. We found Kenma sitting how I left him, he was there snacking on my veggie chips.

"We're not lovebirds Kuroo." Kenma spoke up as my ears perked up from hearing his voice.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated my question and got myself comfortable with Kenma again.

He stared at us, his eyes following back and forth before trailing at my legs on Kenma's lap.

"Definitely lovebirds. Friends don't just lay the way you two are." His mischievous grin was irritating.

I gave him a 'you're a dumbass' look and glanced at Kenma.

"No kuroo, we aren't dating. Even if we were, I don't think we'd tell you," I said calmly picking my book up. I wasn't going to waste my precious time on a dumbass like him.

I saw Kenma nod, out the corner of my eye, he agreed with me.

"And what exactly have you and Kenma been doing?" One eye brown perched up on his ridiculous face, funny enough, the only eye brow we could see from his haircut.

"We've been lying here," Kenma answered for me and this time it was my turn to nod.

"So you're telling me, I set you two up and all you've been doing is playing games and reading.." Kuroo stood there dumbfounded.

"No, not exactly, we did eat some." I gestured over to the pile of half eaten snacks set in the middle of my bed.

"You two are hopeless...and made for each other." His voice trailed off as he left my room.

I perked an ear, trying to listen and see if he was gonna leave my house, and he did.

I snickered, returning to my book, I admit that my eyes needed new attention and that Kenma with his two toned hair was thinking the same thing.

"What do you want to do?" I hesitantly asked Kenma as he set his game down and me with my book.

"Can we make something?"

"Uh sure, I think my mom bought some ingredients for cupcakes last week. Is that alright?" I asked getting up and marking my book while setting it on my nightstand.

He nodded and we headed downstairs with Kenma in front of me now. I never really noticed it since we've mostly been sitting down but he's taller than me.

A strange thought came to mind as I was thinking of our conversation.

'A child.'

My eyes widened and my heart rate sped up. I cursed at myself for ever thinking that. What the hell? I've just known the guy for a couple of hours and I'm already thinking of a child? I've been reading too much lately.

I breathed out a sigh and tied my apron back once we were in the kitchen. I held out an extra apron for Kenma and he gladly took it.

"Three eggs please," I said reading the instructions from the cupcake box I grabbed from the cabinet. I decided to reach up and grab the flour from there while I was at it.

Once he found the eggs in the fridge, he broke the eggs into a glass bowl, making sure not to get any eggshells in the mixture.

'He can break my back.'

What the fuck (y/n)? Where are all these thoughts coming from?

Probably from the lack of sleep your dumbass got.

That's great. Now I'm talking to myself and responding.

I suddenly got nervous while pouring some flour in and accidentally got it on Kenma's chest. I fucking need sleep, how in the hell?

"Oh god, I'm so sorry." I nervously spoke trying to get it off. He raised a brow, took some flower and plopped it on my head.

I paused, just staring at him with my jaw dropped.

Holding eye contact, I grabbed up a handful of flour and threw it on his hair too. I cracked a smile as he shook his head and the flour flew out like snow.

Soon, we were throwing tons of flour on each other, the kitchen had become a war zone. Mind and his laughs were bouncing off the walls in the kitchen.

I squealed as he shoved some down the back of my hoodie.

"Kenma!" I threw my head back in laughter as I chased him around my kitchen, I wanted to put some down his pants.

"You're never going to get me!" He smiled at me. I felt my heart almost stop, he looked.. cute. Which was completely new for me.

I could feel my cheeks start to flush until an idea sparked in my head. I grabbed an egg from the carton and threw it at him.

This time it was his turn to stare at me with his jaw dropped. Just like the flour war, next came the eggs, then cocoa, and cupcake mixture.

At this point, we were the cupcakes just unbaked.

"Payback, (y/n)." Kenma whispered in my ear, making me shiver, or maybe it was the cold water that was just dumped on my head.

I gasped loudly, flailing my arms every which way. Kenma stood by me laughing, with his arms holding his stomach. What a lovely sound, it was pure happiness.

I smirked and shook my long hair next to him, the ingredients getting on him. Finally, it came to an end when we got tired of throwing ingredients at each other.

I went to the pantry to grab two hand towels that I didn't care to use to clean us up.

"What in the hell.." I looked up after cleaning my face with a towel. I saw Kuroo standing in the doorway, confusion drawn on his face like no other.

"What the hell did you two do?" He asked astonished at us and the messed up kitchen. I mean, it was a sight to see. I haven't had this much engaging fun in forever.

I started giggling at the mess and Kenma looked at me and started laughing alongside me.

"I leave and you two are sitting on your bed, all quiet and calm. But when I come back you two are making the biggest mess in all of history," He exclaims his eyes bolting around the room and his movements a little frantic.

"Kenma, can you help me clean up please?" I asked nicely and headed over to get the dishwater started.

"Yes ma'am," he said and smirked, bringing his hand up and sprinkling sugar above my head.

I sniffed by accident then sneezed when there was a molecule of sugar in my nose. I looked up at him afterwards and what looked like blush was coating his cheeks.

Smiling innocently, I took the dish hose and sprayed him lightly.

I earned a gasp and high-pitched but slightly drawn out, "(Y/n)." from him.

Before he could say anything else Kuroo's loud voice came over us.

"So you two are dating? Hitting it off well, oya?" He asked with a smirk that only seemed to hint at other things.

I glanced up at Kenma and he looked down at me.

It seemed as if they both silently agreed to ignore him. In our midst of cleaning, a grumbling Kuroo finally decided to help. The only things in the kitchen un cleaned were Kenma and I.

"Do you want to stay over and shower or..?" I waited for an answer while taking off my large hoodie, revealing my larger shirt underneath.

My hair was filled with gross food, well, technically cupcake ingredients.

"I guess I could stay over. I'll text my mo-"

"I'm staying over too." Kuroo announced without even asking.

I looked back at Kuroo to see if he has lost his damn mind.

"The hell? Just do whatever you want I guess." I rolled my eyes at him.

I was honestly surprised by my acts today, I'm not usually an outgoing person and yet I liked how today went. But I can also tell that Kenma isn't either.

"I'll go to my parents' shower, you two take a shower together or separately, I don't care." I smiled and gathered my things after giving Kenma my brother's clothes. He was in college so I doubt that he'd mind.

After I was done, I seriously thought that they had taken a shower together but it turns out they just took short ones. Who knows? I was in the shower trying to get egg out of my hair. I couldn't have had hot water either, it would've cooked them.

Instead of making an actual dinner meal like yesterday, I decided to order pizza just so Kuroo could shut up about it.

"You know Kuroo, I'm picking up actions that Bokuto would use. Not a good sign," I said and turned on a movie in my room.

"Hey! That's mean- oh." He realized, I guess he must've been spending much more time with him. Not a problem in my book though.

I was eager to sleep since I hadn't got any last night. Kenma and Kuroo slept on the air mattress we had blown up in the middle of my floor.

I dived underneath my covers, not even having time to adjust before I fell into a deep slumber.

I woke up from a gentle poke to my shoulder. I peeked up one eye and saw Kenma hovering over me. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes for better sight.

"Kenma? What's wrong?" I eyed my clock, it was one in the morning.

"Kuroo took over the air mattress. I'm gonna sleep with you." He softly spoke and lightly scooted me over to the wall.

"Uh, okay I guess?" I whispered, not sounding so sure but was too full of sleep to really think about it.

I closed my eyes and waited for Kenma to stop moving so I could sleep.

"(Y/n)? About what Kuroo said, if we were to date we wouldn't tell him right?" His voice talked into the darkness.

This meant that I couldn't really see his face, I could only guess what he was hinting at.

"Oh..yeah.." I answered, sobering up from sleep.

"Well, can we do the-uh, dating e-eachother." He stumbled over his words which made me smile a bit.

My face was burning underneath the covers that he could easily steal away from me.

"I think I'd like that very much, Kenma." I smiled, not stumbling over my words.

I felt an arm pull me closer to his chest and kiss my cheek. My heart beat like a drum inside my chest as I tried to find my slumber again. The weight of his arm around my waist. The kiss on my cheek. The warmth of-

"Goodnight, (Y/n)." Kenma's voice rang out, soothing my thoughts.

I smiled softly and closed my eyes. I guess this kind of love wasn't a waste of time after all.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my “Haikyuu x Reader Oneshots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you want more!

the header is from lena!! on Pinterest

[chemzee]

3, 4, 12 & 20 for morgy perhaps 👁👁?

Ooh, thanks for the questions!! I'm ngl I'm not surprised to see you ask about Morgan hehe 🤭/lh

It's always I pleasure to talk about him tho! <3

3.What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

The role in the story was the first thing I decided on! Morgan was written first and foremost as a "non antagonistic NOTME member" in mind. Since he was meant to be an oddball in the group, I decided to go all the way into making him an oddball in general, so I quickly decided on his personality as well.

4.And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

Design 💀 It took me a while to get his give right. I've drawn A LOT of different variations of his design back in August-September 2023 (I believe), he's arguably most different to his first ever design. Thankfully, I managed to nail it by October and he only had slight changes in design (adjustments in skintone + his hair having a more crescent moon siluette) ever since.

His last name was also a lil hard to pick but eventually I decided on Grimmes. His name's kinda on the nose ik, but it's Harry Potter so ig it's fitting xd

12.Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?

Oh, I actually did make one a long time ago! I do wanna give it a revamp some day but here's a couple of songs from it:

Morgan's a lil tricky because I don't find many songs which fit his vibe or lyrics that fit his whole deal but I always think of him when listening to Dead Man's Bones and Fish in Birdcage, mostly melody and vibe wise.

20.Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favourite scenes, anything you've been waiting for a chance to ramble about

OOOH MANY, I got so much I wanna talk about him but never got a chance to

I'm currently trying to make a small lore change to the origin of his disease. Ik I've been changing it a lot already, but I wanna polish it bc I always felt unsatisfied with my writing of his backstory. But basic premise is: it's an autoimmune disease only occurring in wizards because the magic in them messes up with immune system's functionality.

Aside from that he's the mc of Y4 and I feel like I haven't really gone into much detail about it despite already having a basic plot for it figured out. Again, I feel like I need to polish it first.

And then there's his relationship with the gang! By the middle-end of Y4, he integrates himself into the gang (kinda how Abigail did), so he's got a few interactions with everyone in it here and there! Aside from Daniel, he's good friends with Lottie and Kevin. Lottie's essentially his second best friend, they often find themselves rambling about art or astronomy, plus complimentary aesthetics deal going on. With Kevin, both enjoy engaging in intellectual debates, discuss books and Morgan likes to prank/tease Kevin a lot xd but aside from these two, Morgan's on good terms with Ivy, although they sometimes clash because of the differences in beliefs (well, Ivy usually gets frustrated by him, Morgan is always very calm in any interaction with her even if he's feeling the urge to say "you're wrong + didn't ask + ratio" to her sometimes/j)

[simmeons]

Another! :⁠^⁠)

"Please."

@juneofdoom

Blindfold | Fall | Touch Starved

TW; slight body horror, yearning and longing (?)

Characters; MFP!Montgomery Scott, MFP!Leonard McCoy and Jim Kirk

AU; this is for the Mystery Flesh Pit scones AU! though, it's the sub Recovery AU where they get help with their condition. they aren't suffering too bad in this

“This is your new room!”

Jim made a dramatic gesture at the room, a big box with some big windows that sectioned off from the main visitor center. It was sticking out so people could walk past and see them, and they could see the visitors.

“It's big.” Montgomery momentarily thought, their body easing forward and back smoothly with the help of their new wheelchair-esc addition, clipped and fastened around their waist.

“Very open.” Leonard replied.

“They can watch us sleep.”

“Charming.”

“Do you two like it?” Jim asked, looking nervous.

“Do we?”

“Uh…” Montgomery hesitated for a moment. Eventually he just nodded carefully.

“Oh, that's a relief.” The blonde worker sighed. He started to walk around the room, looking tiny in it. “Your bed,” He started, giving them a tour. “Windows to look out, you'll be given your food at the proper times and here we've already prepared you an activity.”

Using their arms to drag their form, Montgomery inched closer, looking down at the ridiculously large puzzle laid out on the floor.

“Geez, I forget how big our hands are.” The Scotsman thought.

“What? What's happening?”

“Here, Bones.” Jim, somehow perfectly knowing what Leonard may be thinking. He walked over to a a panel on a wall, pressing a button. Soon a TV in the corner of their room lit up, and it was practically at the perfect height for Leonard to get a great view.

Jim then walked back to the puzzle and extended something from the floor. It folded up like a lamp, but there was a camera at the end that protruded. He bent the rod, positioning the camera to record the puzzle.

“I can see it! I can see!”

Montgomery felt the sheer excitement his boyfriend was feeling, felt how his heart beat increased with excitement.

“Is that better?” Jim asked. Montgomery gave a more eager nod. He was happy to have his lover being accommodated to. “Amazing. I'll leave you two alone. Would you like to be disconnected?”

“It would be comfortable to lay down for a while.” Leonard hummed, his eyes still trained on the TV, looking at the puzzle pieces.

With that in mind, Montgomery nodded again. Jim smiled and happily got to work.

It was still a bit of a hassle but eventually their large amalgamation body was laid down on their body. Jim brought the puzzle closer to them, said lunch would be on the way soon, and gave them some privacy. Well, as much privacy as one could get having their room being open for the park comers to look at them.

“We're like an attraction.” Leonard thought. “Oh, corner piece next to the white flower.”

“Good eye, love.” With some effort, Montgomery picked up the engaged puzzle piece and connected it to a border piece.

The guests were enjoying the sight of the large creature. A few were fascinated, one or two just plain scared, the children were in absolute awe, and two guys who were walking past were talking.

“That's gotta be the ugliest thing I've ever seen.” One of them said loudly, nudging his friend's shoulder, pointing up at the creature in the room.

Montgomery felt his, err… Chest area tighten.

“Ignore them.”

“It's hard to.”

“Right is the other part of the bee.” Leonard tried distracting his boyfriend. Montgomery huffed and connected the pieces together.

The group of people left, and more came. Thankfully no pictures, they could read the sign there. It was double sided, Montgomery could read what the guests were.

“Amalgamated lovers. Two of our own park workers pushed through the troubles, their power and perseverance a true testament of what love can do for someone. It also goes to show how far Anodyne has come with its work.”

“Yeah, toot your horn some more why don't you.”

Montgomery chuckled weakly at that. He stopped when he looked out towards the guests, seeing the people. He saw couples holding hands.

It hurt to see.

He missed touching Leonard. He missed holding his hand, kissing him, just general physical touch. Of course they were always touching now. They were never not touching.

“I miss it too, sugar. I miss you so much.” Leonard’s inner thought came much softer than his last one.

The Scotsman looked back down at their puzzle. “It's odd, feeling so touch starved like this. We're stuck together. We are touching.”

“That's different and you know it. Don't try to downplay the longing. You know I yearn for you too.”

“Och, Len…”

“I know,” Leonard’s movable hand gently patted their back. “This is all I can give you.”

Montgomery very carefully lifted his copepod arm, boney fingers gracing the southern man’s hair. “It's still soft.”

“Good, I'm glad! I can't really care for it on my own anymore.” Leonard felt his eye flutter closed at the touch. “It's… Boney than what I remember your hands feeling like.”

“Will it be enough for now?”

“Anything from you is enough.”

Montgomery smiled as best as he could. “Would ye like me to continue the puzzle?”

“Oh, yes. Please. Enough hair touching, let's get this done. Maybe Jim will give us a reward.”

[viesanterieures]

𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

Robert Fischer [Inception] x fem. Reader

note: Welcome to my first Robert Fischer (Inception) fanfic :) This is a short story & it's published in one chapter

Hope you enjoy it :) (you don‘t have to watch the movie to understand the story)

! English is not my first language, but I try my best :))

summary: The reader meets a mysterious man in a café who starts to visit her in her dreams and eventually saves her life.

warnings: mention of death, fire, injuries

supernatural themes based on Inception, like invading someone else's dreams.

+ it also has a sort of open ending and leaves room for interpretation.

word count: 2.000 +

Masterlist

It was warm and the air smelled of coffee. Exhausted, I reached for the cup and placed it under the coffee machine. I glanced at my golden watch. It was five minutes after seven. In less than an hour, my shift would finally be over and I could go home.

I had been up since six in the morning and by now every bone in my body was aching. Working at the Sydney Opera Café was far more exhausting than I had imagined. But I had no choice. I had to somehow finance my life and as a self-employed, somewhat unsuccessful author, I had to make compromises. More than anything, I hoped that one day the times would change and I would be successful. After all, writing was my passion, something I really cared about, unlike serving coffee to sometimes grumpy and and unfriendly customers.

"Look who's back. Mr 007." I heard a familiar voice next to me. Startled, I turned round, almost scalding myself with the coffee. Somewhat annoyed, I looked at my colleague Patricia. "Oh my god, do you have to scare me like that?"

"Sorry, dear," she replied, but I wasn't really listening, my eyes wandering around the cafe until they settled on a familiar face. There he was again. He came to the cafe almost every evening and Patricia and I would often see him sitting at one of the tables, enjoying his coffee and reading a book. He was a very handsome and elegant man. His hair was dark and neatly combed, his eyes were strikingly blue, and he always wore a stylish dark suit and a tie. Patricia had secretly given him the nickname 007, as he bore a slight resemblance to James Bond. My colleague used to joke that he must be some kind of spy or secret agent. To me, he looked more like a successful businessman taking a break at the cafe after a long day at work. I could have sworn I had seen him in the newspaper before.

I watched him as he slowly stirred his espresso. "Did you serve him?" I asked Patricia. She looked at me and grinned. "Oh, I did. Should I have left him to you? Maybe he would’ve finally proposed to you."

Annoyed, but slightly embarrassed, I looked at my colleague. "What are you talking about? We're not in kindergarten anymore. And I've never even spoken to the guy." Sometimes I just couldn't stand her comments. But she was one of the best colleagues you could ever have, and we got on well from day one. Dry humour was part of who she was.

“Do you think I don't see you staring at him all the time? Admit it, you like him," she replied, now a little more serious. I pretended not to hear her and lowered my head as I poured another cup of coffee.

The café began to empty and I saw Patricia finally approach the unknown gentleman's table. He paid and she wished him a pleasant evening.

"I know you'll be leaving soon, but would you be so kind as to clean this table quickly?" she called to me.

I nodded and grabbed a cloth. Sighing, I leaned over the table. I suddenly noticed something small and black on the chair. A wallet. Curious, I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. It looked incredibly expensive and high quality. It must belong to him. With trembling hands I opened it and took out an ID. Indeed, the person in the photo was unmistakably the unknown man. With bated breath I read the name next to the photo.

Robert Michael Fischer.

Without another thought, I turned on my heel and left the café. My legs carried me through the evening streets of Sydney. Straining my eyes, I scanned every pedestrian, but none of them looked like him. I hurried along with quick steps, almost bumping into an elderly lady who complained loudly about me. But I ignored her, for at that moment I had spotted a black suit and dark hair in the crowd. Fischer. I gathered all my remaining strength and ran across the zebra crossing. "Sir!" I shouted, "Please wait a moment!"

Fischer finally turned around, looking confused. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"Yes," I gasped, completely out of breath. My heart was beating so hard against my chest that I thought it would jump out at any moment. "Your... wallet... you forgot it…in the café…" I held the wallet out to him.

His questioning look turned into a grateful smile. I could see his strikingly bright blue eyes light up as he looked at me curiously. "Thank you, Ma’am, that's very kind of you."

I felt my cheeks flush. Why was he making me so nervous? "No problem," I murmured softly, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"No, Ma’am, I'm really grateful. The wallet alone costs $500," he said, chuckling softly. I took a deep breath and chuckled too. "I'm glad there are still honest people like you around. I owe you one," he said. Then he turned on the heel of his expensive looking shoes and disappeared into the crowd. I stood there paralysed, watching him go.

Late that night I fell into bed, completely exhausted, and replayed the day's events in my mind. The crowded café, Patricia's comments, the wallet, Fischer, and especially the phrase "I owe you one". What did he mean by that? It was strange how connected I felt to this man, even though I hardly knew him.

He was just a stranger I had a brief conversation with on the busy streets of Sydney.

Suddenly I saw the scenario before me again. The sounds of cars and voices filled the air. People crowded around me. As the images became clearer, I recognised Fischer in front of me. Dressed in his dark suit, his briefcase tucked under his arm, his bright blue eyes fixed on me. I was about to open my mouth to say something, but he grabbed my arm gently with his free hand and pulled me behind him. I followed him through the familiar streets of Sydney, past the famous Opera House and towards the small park where I had spent much of my childhood. Fischer led me to a small bench under a weeping willow. I sat down beside him. For a while we sat there in silence, gazing at the trees before us, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. "Who are you? Why are you here?" I finally broke the silence.

But Fischer avoided my gaze. "I come here often. It's one of my favourite places. Right after your café," he said quietly.

I bit my lip. Why wasn't he answering my questions? "I used to feed ducks here when I was little," I said finally. "With my grandmother. Unfortunately, she passed away twelve years ago."

Why did I tell him all this?

Fischer nodded slowly. "We often learn to appreciate things only when we've lost them."

I held my breath for a moment and looked back at Fischer. He was right.

"Why are we here?" I asked again.

He remained silent.

I gave up. He wouldn't answer anyway. But suddenly I felt Fischer grab my hand again, and the contours of our surroundings blurred and changed. It was suddenly darker around us. Unconsciously I moved closer to him.

I held my breath, trying to make out anything around me. I blinked frantically, turning around but all I could see was a dark void surrounding me.

The only thing I felt was Fischer's warm hand in mine.

Suddenly I could feel the air around us getting warmer and warmer until it became unbearable hot.

Terrified, I gasped for air and tried to shout Robert's name, but the words got stuck in my throat as towering flames suddenly erupted around us, bathing everything in an eerie orange light.

Despair filled my eyes as I looked into Fischer's, eyes where the flames were reflected.

"Help me! Why are you showing this to me!", I cried in a hoarse voice, tears streaming down my face.

But he remained silent again, just watching the flames right in front of us.

Suddenly the ground began to shake and I clung to the man who held me in his arms. Then it went dark and I fell.

I fell into a deep, black abyss that seemed to never end. I reached out anxiously to grasp something, opened my eyes to see, but all I could see was emptiness. But then I saw a small, bright streak in front of me. I reached out for it as it came closer. Slowly I could vaguely make out things around me. A wardrobe. A table. A window.

My bedroom.

Trembling, I sat up. I was in my bed. The clock ticked quietly beside me, and a narrow band of light shone through my curtains, brightening the room.

What a strange dream.

I reached for my alarm clock and my heart almost stopped when I saw it. It was just after half past eight! My shift at the café had started half an hour ago. I must have slept so deeply that I didn't hear the alarm go off. Abruptly, I threw back the blanked and turned on my phone. Five missed calls from Patricia. Just then the phone started ringing again. I answered it.

"Oh my God, are you okay? Has something happened to you?" her worried voice echoed from the other end of the line.

"I’m fine. I just overslept. What's going on?" I asked, confused.

"Thank God! You really did have a guardian angel! I saw on the news this morning that the train you usually take has caught fire. The news mentioned dozens of injuries and several deaths.“

I jumped in shock and my knees gave way and I fell back on the bed. How could this have happened?

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah... I'll call you back later, okay?“ I hung up and buried my face in my trembling hands.

He had saved my life. Fischer.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude and confusion washed over me. Who was this man who had mysteriously come into my life to protect me?

How could he know? And how could he invade my dreams?

Slowly I got up and made my way to the bathroom. I had felt a connection with this man from the beginning. And he seemed to have sensed that something bad was about to happen.

Was there such a thing? Two souls destined to be together?

Days went by and I couldn't stop thinking about that encounter with the mysterious man. But he never returned to the café and seemed to have vanished without a trace.

The mystery of the man remained unsolved and I returned to my daily life. I didn't say a word to Patricia about what had happened. She wouldn't believe me anyway. But I still felt that Robert Fischer had mysteriously entered my life to protect me.

Every time I passed the table where he had sat, I still felt his presence in the air. I had learned that life sometimes holds secrets that we can never fully understand.

Eventually I returned to my writing. The inspiration from that strange encounter drove me to continue it. My book "Man In My Dreams" was finally completed and published. It was surprisingly successful. Of course, I had changed all the names, but the core of the story remained the same.

I ran my fingers carefully over the pages of my book and sighed. I could still see him in my mind's eye. I missed him, even though I hardly knew him.

We often learn to appreciate things only when we've lost them.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/N (edit): thank you for the likes and rebloggs, that means so much to me 🩵

[smallerplaces]

Bass Pro Shops articulated fashion doll: unboxing and body comparison

A couple months ago, I was once again looking at the Bass Pro Shops fashion dolls, mulling whether to buy the ambiguously brown gal with straight hair when I already have rebodied Kylie and the second articulated-knee Dollar Tree Beauty in that role... when I saw there was a gal with freckles and a young horse and chickens.

Well. Done deal. I set her aside for Christmas and then was so happy with finally unboxing Kid Kore Piper that I set her further aside for New Year's, which is... today. So here we are.

Meet Anne. Don't call her hair red.

Here she is in the box. The $29.99 price tag that felt off-putting a couple years ago now seems in line with what a doll with a similar level of accessories would cost at Target.

Also, Dad bought her for me because we were at Bass Pro Shops so he could buy flannel shirts for an expensive trip I (voluntarily) wasn't going on, so $30 for toys presumably seemed pretty trivial compared to the $1200 in tickets it would have cost to bring me along.

The back of the box tells us to collect them all, but honestly, I think I picked the one with the most expressive face.

It turns out that the doll and all her accessories are between two layers of molded plastic that slide out, leaving the backdrop pristine to use for display.

It's not bad! I don't usually use display backgrounds, but since I'm rearranging the doll community today, I might try it out.

I love the hen. I really do.

I've already managed to lose one chick.

The foal is heavy. This is a solid little creature. As you can see, she stands easily on her own. She shall be named Mocha. Mocha comes with a velour blanket that I've removed for photos.

Here's Anne! She balances well on her own in shoes. Her head tends to tip upward, an issue made worse by the weight of her loose pony tail. She's kind of awkward, but not as much so as Lammily.

I definitely chose the one with the most expressive face. The slight upward glance on her eyes is going to trip me up a lot with taking photos, but look at those freckles!

Anne also has the most collarbone I've seen in a playline doll.

Body comparisons start after the jump.

Since Anne is articulated and has a slightly large head, the handy comparison is my Simply Fresh Kylie head that's been rebodied onto a Made to Move. We know going in that Kylie will have better articulation, but how much better?

Anne and Kylie have pretty similar body shapes: everyone's the same belly button shape these days. Anne is about half an inch shorter, though!

Obviously, Anne lacks bust, mid-thigh, upper arm, and ankle articulation. Her knees and elbows are simpler than MTM. However, she has the same kind of hip joints, so she can do great splits and also sit with her knees mostly together. She also kneels as well as Kylie does.

Arm articulation isn't as great as MTM. Kylie can touch her own head, but Anne can't.

At this point, I was wondering if Anne is simply a standard Chinese articulated body. Her plastic is lighter-weight than Kylie's, which would be consistent with that theory. I was girding my loins to drag out and undress Cinderelsa for comparison when I remembered that, of course, I have a body farm. I bought extras when I bought Cinderelsa's body.

It's close. My Chinese body has more visible seams, no collar bone, thinner legs, a slightly smaller waist, and no creases on the thighs. It also has fashion feet. The hand mold is really similar, though. Anne looks healthier and a bit more detailed.

Her back marking of Tree House Kids just leads us in a circle: here's the brand site, showing the same Bass Pro Shops dolls, labeled as such.

At this point, I got annoyed enough with the stiffness of her ponytail to take it down and comb it out. There is so much product in a simple ponytail! I'm going to have to boilwash her when I do a batch.

With her hair combed out, Anne can be Lady Godiva for Halloween.

Since her body is in the standard range, she should be able to wear some of my stash of approximately Barbie-sized clothes. My first thought was the blue jumpsuit that Mariposa (Hobbit Teresa) likes.

The jumpsuit was not a win. It's loose through the bust on Anne. However, the sunflower dress that's a genuine Barbie dress (from Big Lots) looks great, especially with the plastic straw hat! (Kylie has changed into something glitzy from one of my dollar-store fashion packs.) Anne can also wear the strappy flat sandals that I use for Skipper-sized dolls.

On the whole, the Bass Prop Shops doll is pretty nice. Her articulation is fine, though not earth-shaking. Her animal accessories are fun! And I really like the expressiveness of this particular face-up.

Here she is with Emma Dreams and Varsity Captain Zoe. I feel like she and Emma are a natural match as sisters, with poor big-headed Zoe once again as the outlier.

[sexually-confused-goblin]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you so much for tagging me @that-disabled-princess ✨️ I've luckily had some time again to continue my tdp fics, so have a bit from those two. And my iwtv Devil's Minion (Rashidmand) fic is finally taking some shape, so I thought I'd add some of it under the cut as well :D

"If I Break the Glass, Then I'll Have to Fly"

Viren and Aaravos left for the living room together, giving their daughters some room to hopefully get to know each other a bit, now that the men were officially dating.  “Well, like Dad already said, I’m Leola, hi!” the girl with the white and purple hair broke the silence after a few moments of her and Claudia just awkwardly standing in the middle of Claudia’s room. She idly kept spinning her circular barbell helix piercing, which ensured her ear would pass between the glittering pink balls at both ends of the small accessory every few moments while her bright eyes darted around the room. “I really love your decorations.”  The other girl took a deep breath and tried her damnedest to not let her probably-soon-to-be step-sister see how overwhelmed she was with the whole situation. Leola seemed nice enough but Claudia just wasn’t in the mood for socialising right now after Viren had dropped such a bomb on her without any warning.

"Walking a Travelled Path"

"Are you also an assassin like Rayla?" Ellis asked the elf whose arm was being assessed by the veterinarian. Runaan nodded, smiling gently at the spark of wonder in the girl's big eyes. "Ellis, dear, let the man rest for now, please" the doctor sighed fondly, knowing the child’s curiosity.  "It's not a problem, I'm used to someone as energetic as her from raising my own little whirlwind," Runaan assured the human who had started gently massaging a healing salve onto the bruises circling the assassin’s upper arms. The elf playfully ruffled the girl’s hair with his currently free hand.  Harrow, who had remained silent but closely at Runaan’s side after helping him dismount the wolf, chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief, “Someone pinch me, the stone faced Moonshadow assassin gets all soft and gentle when there are kids arou- ow! What was that for?!”  “You said to pinch you,” Runaan answered, matter of factly.

"Let’s Live Tonight Like Fireflies" (title is from “Beautiful Now” by Zedd)

Rashid’s mop of black curls and sinfully deep-cut v-neck shirt were nowhere to be seen, so Daniel took his chance before the young servant with the equally parts intense and soft bambi eyes could sneak up on him, “I have a question.” He was lounging on the sofa, his phone, the calendar app opened, in one hand and a cold soda in the other. Daniel quite enjoyed the sweet drink, although the slight aftertaste of pineapple after his first sip almost had him chuck the can at Louis’ shit-eating grin. No, the vampire’s goal had been to provoke a reaction from Daniel, so he definitely wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting angry. Louis had flown him out to Dubai to do his job and ask questions. It wasn’t Daniel’s problem the vampire wasn’t always comfortable when facing the harsh truth instead of sugarcoated stories he had probably told himself over the years so he could sleep during the day without the guilt picking his bones completely clean - until now it had only eaten away the bits that would regrow again and again like the parts Prometheus lost to the eagle day after day. Although, the more Louis tried to antagonise Daniel by messing with his Parkinson’s or reading his thoughts, the more curious the reporter got whether or not a small UV-lamp, like the ones people use to cure small art projects or certain types of nail polish, would feel like getting zapped with an electric fly swatter to a vampire.

tagging @no-cinnamon-for-synonym @yurayuramiharin @hoothalcyon @strawgremlin and whoever wants to participate: feel tagged✨️

[darling-heffron]

A/N: Hello and Welcome! Here is the second instalment of Momento Mori! The next chapter will come next week, so stay tuned!

This chapter introduces my oc; Mars (I hope you guys like her as much I do). Also included is one of the Band of Brothers guys, someone who deserves way more attention than he gets, I only hope I've done him justice!

Who are you readers waiting to see in future chapters?

Until next time, -Sol ☀️

Chapter two: Outbreak

Mars’ POV:

Pressing snooze had to be the most satisfying feeling, knowing the day is void of commitments with the ability to roll over and go back to sleep; that alone is worth more than all the money in the world. 

Marleen Finch smacked that snooze button with vigour; today was a rare gem. No morning classes and a day off from her under-paid part time job as a waitress.

The people she served were some of the rudest, uppity customers she had ever met, working in New York City meant she had to interact with real live New Yorkers. Mars was appalled by the audacity these city dwellers had, but had no choice to suck up to them in the hopes they would leave good tips.

Besides, Mars didn’t want to jeopardise her job, so if it meant smiling while customers berated her or running into the walk-in fridge to cry twice a shift, she did it.

She swallowed her pride daily by cleaning up after purposefully messy patrons and pretending she didn't mind. Mars picked up shifts that none of her coworkers wanted to do with no additional pay because at the end of the day; she didn't want to get fired or have someone mad at her, she’d rather just suck it up and get on with whatever menial hours she was assigned. 

Today, however, Mars was able to do what she pleased, at least until her afternoon class started. With that in mind, Marleen snuggled further into her cosy sheets and screwed her eyes shut. 

The next time her alarm went off the blonde easied out of bed, stretching her arms above her head as she made her way to the bathroom. Her apartment wasn't anything fancy; in fact, it was in a pretty shady area of The Bronx and that was saying something. 

The dull wallpaper peeled in certain places revealing a sickly yellow underneath, parts of the worn down carpet were stained by who knows what and the faucets either leaked or were coated in lime scale, in most cases; both. But it was hers and hers alone. Sure, her parents chipped in with rent and utilities so she wouldn't have to share with some skeevie stranger from the internet, but the rundown, compact apartment was her first place away from home and no matter how broken it was, Mars loved it.

Marleen showered quickly, skipping a hair wash but decided to take her time planning an outfit; she had errands to run and looking cute while still being comfy was essential for the day. Mars decided on a pair of grey shorts, a baggy sage green sweatshirt and simple white lace-up sneakers. The weather was warming up but there was still a slight chill in the air. She tried to flick on the T.V for background noise but the screen remained black. 

‘Must be another power cut.’ She thought to herself, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence but it was still just as inconvenient every time. 

Instead, she began making breakfast in silence, humming to herself to make up for the lack of ambient sounds. 

A high pitched scream broke the young woman from her current task. It wasn’t abnormal to hear distress from the street below, the area she lived in was a low income neighbourhood, filled with struggling students and wanting vagrants. 

However, this scream sounded different. Unearthly, haunting, it chilled her to her bones. 

Mars stood frozen in the kitchen, gazing at the dusty curtains that engulfed her window. Her feet took her towards said window without thinking. She got closer and closer to the curtain, arm reached out to draw the fabric back. 

~ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK ~

Mars gasped, her outstretched hand curled back towards her body and rested on her chest as she huffed and puffed, getting her breath back after the jumpscare caused by obnoxiously loud banging on her apartment door. 

She almost wanted to laugh at herself, getting frightened because of an everyday occurrence. One measly scream and a few rough knocks shouldn’t have her so worried…. So why was she shaking? Why was she so nervous to step towards the door and answer it? 

Luckily, her place had a peephole. She utilised it, sneaking a look through to the other side of her door. 

A large figure she recognised immediately stood outside, his back facing the entryway as if he was checking behind him. Mars flicked the lock and swung open the door. 

“Denver?” Marleen called out to him tentatively, her voice paired with the opening squeak of her apartment door alerted him, “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” Her words fell of deaf ears, Denver Randleman, her upstairs neighbour was visibly shaken. 

A tough feat as Denver was a well built, muscular man with little to no fears. He and Mars had spoken quite a bit, living in the same building with similar schedules meant they bumped into each other frequently. She knew that he was a kindhearted gentleman who was often mistaken as a boorish brute.

He was sweaty and panting as he stepped past her and into her home. This only concerned her more, he had never behaved like this in the year she had known him. Mars stepped aside and allowed him to close the door behind him, he immediately locked the door and slid the chain on. 

“Marleen.” His serious tone made her eyebrows furrow, she knew him as a happy-go-lucky man who was always smiling ear to ear. 

“Denver?” She responded gingerly.  

“I need you to listen very closely.” The blonde haired man gently placed his hands on her shoulders and lowered himself so he could look directly into her eyes. 

“Denver, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.” She knew she could trust him but this situation was a little peculiar to say the least. 

“Something is happening. I don’t know what but it’s serious and we need to leave.” It wasn’t much of an explanation but it was all she was going to get. Marleen knew this man, if he was so shaken by whatever was going on, it was probably best to listen to him and go along for the ride. 

“What, now?” Mars attempted to let the words sink in but her surprise at the situation was ever growing. He didn’t answer with words, instead rushing into her kitchen and opened the pantry. 

“We’ll need canned food, bottled water, you got anything like that?” Denver shuffled through some tinned items, checking labels. 

“Oh, I think I have some-“ The young woman began to explain, but cut herself off when she noticed the bulky man curl his arm the contents of an entire shelf and sweep it into the awaiting duffel bag she had only just noticed. 

“Help yourself, I guess.” Mars watched her neighbour scuttle around, opening every cupboard and checking inside before darting to another. She saw him reaching for food items she had bought long ago with the good intention of making home cooked meals but never got round to and tried to stop him, 

“I’m not sure if that’s in-date?” Her attempt to ease the tension was ignored and he tossed it in regardless, “I suppose we’re taking it anyway.” Her comment was quiet, more of a joke to herself as he didn’t seem to be in a listening mood right now. 

“Denver, you need to tell me what’s going on? Why do we have to leave?” That seemed to grab his attention. 

“Just trust me. We have to get out of the city. We’ll go North.” Denver was answering her question yet it seemed like he was talking to himself rather than her, he mumbled his words and continued searching her house for things to pack.

“Out of the city? Um okay? Should I pack clothes or something? How long will we be gone?” Marleen rubbed circles on her temples, she was making mental notes to call into work at some point as well as check in with her family.

If things were really that serious, she’d better get in touch with her folks, see how they were doing. And maybe her boss would understand? She supposed it depended on what kind of emergency this was, but Denver wasn't exactly explaining much to her.  

“Mars, I don’t think you understand…” His actions finally halted all together and he turned fully to take her appearance in; Mars was a short, petite blonde girl who wouldn't survive a day out there, Denver promised himself that he would keep the young lady safe. They were friends after all, which is why his next words felt like he was breaking her heart, a gut punch: 

“We won’t be coming back.” 

———————

Marleen packed practical clothes, a small journal she was yet to start writing in and her personal items: toothpaste and toothbrush, moisturisers, deodorant, hair clips, ties and brush along with a bandanna. 

Unfortunately, Mars never had a knack for camping, so there were things they needed she did not have in her apartment. However, Denver did. Swiss Army knives, ropes, maps of the area, sleeping bags and tents. He had told Mars that they would need to go up a few flights of stairs to his apartment to gather some more things. More useful things. 

Mars hated the idea of lugging her backpack around but she kept that thought to herself, Denver seemed tightly wound today and she was currently occupying herself by trying to get in touch with her family. 

Sounds easy on a typical day, but today, nothing was typical. 

She had been in Denver's apartment before, only once when she had agreed to get his mail and water his plants while he was out of town. It hadn’t changed much. Marleen hardly looked around as she became more engrossed in her phone. Her notifications had gone crazy that morning, almost two hundred…then nothing. She had tried texting, calling, hell she even messaged her sister-in-law on insta, but nothing was working. 

Scrolling through the endless messages got her more and more concerned. The first few were fairly normal, things like - “Have you seen the news this morning?” and “Did you go into work today?” 

After her family realise she's not going to reply, it switched to doom and gloom -  “We are praying for your safety.” and “We love you so much, don’t ever forget that.” 

The woman's eyes began filling with tears, whatever was going on must be pretty serious. Reading her family's texts had made the outlandish situation a reality. Yet somehow, Marleen was still unbelieving. What was even happening? 

Surely it had to be more serious than a flood or tornado but her mind couldn't think of what and Denver wasn't explaining.

No, he was darting around the room, collecting things and mumbling to himself. Not exactly a comforting sight for the distressed girl, so she went back to her phone, absorbing in the last messages she’d ever get to check.

“Marleen? I need you to do something for me, okay?” The country twang evident in his voice, gaining her attention, Mars put down her phone. 

Denver didn't stop his task, he merely directed her to a certain drawer, telling her whatever was inside was important. Marleen did as he asked, the tears dispersed and her mind focused on the new task instead of the possibility of her family's demise. 

It was a long wooden box. Curiosity got the best of her and Mars opened it, peeking inside. 

Cigars.

The all important item Denver desperately needed was a box of cigars? She deadpanned, giving her neighbour a questioning look. He only grinned at her and stepped towards her, taking the box from her hands, whispering a quick ‘thanks’. 

The distraction had been nice (and surely that’s what Denver had been trying to do) but Mars almost instantly went back to doom and gloom.

“Okay. We should head down now.” His voice broke her from her worst case scenario thoughts.

Marleen didn't want to fight it, she didn't want to put up a fuss or make a scene. She just wanted to know if her family was okay. Had whatever was happening here in New York, happened in Illinois? Were her family safe or were they also running around packing for the end of the world? The questions were endless in her head with no answers. 

Her sacred day off to relax and unwind had become so chaotic and overwhelming. She should have been sipping overpriced iced coffee and staring into shop windows, not trying to flee the city while wondering if her family was dead. 

“Marleen!” Her trance was once again broken by Denver, yelling this time like he had been trying to get her attention for awhile. She turned to face him where he stood at the door, bags in hand. 

“We have to go. Now!” His tone was urgent, pushing her to move her feet and follow him out into the hallway. Out of pure instinct, Mars walked to the shiny silver elevator doors and leaned down to press the button before freezing. Her mind was on autopilot, numb and senseless. 

“Powers out.” Denver watched his neighbour, as she stood there, dazed. He pitied her, she had no idea what was going on out there and he didn't have the heart to tell her.

The things he saw had freaked him out and he had seen some things in his years. Mars wasn't like him. She was sweet and innocent and yet to experience the bad parts of life.

At 20 years old she still saw the good in people, in everyone she came across. Her big doe eyes took in the world with naivety and only saw hope and love and everything positive. 

“I know.” She spoke in a small voice, her eyes still focused on the doors like she was waiting to hear the ding. 

Denver moved to take a step towards her, to reach out and tap her shoulder. They needed to get out of the heavily populated city and standing here was wasting time but he knew he would have to be gentle with her, she was still processing and she hadn't even seen the worst of it. 

“We need to go, Mars.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Carrying backpacks and duffle bags down nine flights of stairs worn Marleen out. She huffed and puffed as Denver led her down the aisles of the parking garage. She didn't typically come down here, her work commute included the subway and the occasional bus. Not to mention, it creeped her out, the ceiling to floor concrete, no windows and flickering fluorescent lights did not give off a welcoming vibe.

“This one.” Denver told her, dropping the bags in his possession next to what Mars assumed was his vehicle.

A white delivery box-truck. 

He jingled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked it. Marleen took that as her cue to put her bags down next to his and watch as he loaded them into the now open trunk.  

With her neighbour occupied, Mars took a second to really look around the carpark. Not another soul in sight, completely empty except for her, Denver and about thirty beat up cars. 

A throaty noise broke her from her scan of the room and her attention was brought to a van a few spots ahead of her. The shadows of another person, now visible to her from the gap underneath. Mars took a tentative step closer, intrigued.

“Hello?” Her voice was so quiet she wasn't sure if the newcomer had heard her, so she took another step, slowly inching nearer. 

A woman stepped out and into Marleen’s view. She immediately noticed the blood running down her face like a stream of red tears, the spatter across the woman’s clothes concerned her deeply. Taking yet another stride towards the injured woman, Mars spoke out.

“Ma’am? Are you okay? Do you need help?” This time she spoke louder than she had previously. The lady in front of her hobbled in her direction, her neck bending at a ninety degree angle giving her an inhuman stance.

“Marleen?” Denver had heard her speaking and come to investigate, Mars turned to face him. He looked past the young blonde, directly at the bloodied lady. Her hands reached up and out, attempting to claw at Marleen while her back was turned. 

“Get in the truck. Now.” He didn’t want to panic Mars but he knew what this strange woman would do if she got to any living person, the tearing, biting, ripping into flesh. Denver’s body involuntarily shivered at the thought. 

“She’s hurt, she needs help.” Marleen looked at her neighbour with pity in her eyes, begging him to allow her to aid the stranger. If only she knew. 

“Marleen,” Denver started out gently, his thought cut short when the rabid woman growled. He watched as Mars tensed and slowly began to turn, curious to what was happening behind her. 

The pair watched in pure horror as the woman contorted her body, bones cracking as she twisted in every direction. 

“Inside. Now.” This time Marleen listened. Scrambling toward the vehicle, right behind Denver. 

The rabid let out a screech the second they started rushing back to the truck and raced after them. Hearing the urgent footsteps and eerie noises from the woman caused Marleen to panic and let out a yelp of her own. The pair split up at the rear of the truck, running down either side and flinging open the doors. 

Marleen slammed her door shut just in time as the sick woman kept running to her. 

It was like she didn’t know that the glass would prevent her from reaching her prey. She acted as if she was possessed, continually smashing her face and body up against the glass, smearing blood and other unidentifiable bodily fluids across the window, all the while letting out ear piercing screams, her voice creaking and crackling.  

Mars’ breath was uneven, her chest heaving, partially from the running and partially the shock of the encounter. 

What is wrong with her? 

The box truck rumbled to life, reversing out of the car park, tires screeching as Denver took off. The ill woman let out a furious roar and took off after them, to no avail as the truck is much faster than a human, if she even was human? 

Sunlight bleared into the vehicle, temporarily blinding Mars. She shaded her eyes, giving them a moment to adjust from the dark garage to the bright street. 

Once she could see again, she wished she couldn’t. 

Marleen’s mouth dropped open in shock. It was pure chaos, people ran through the streets; some human and some not. 

There was blood everywhere she looked, crashed cars strewn across the sidewalks, smashed glass littered the road. 

And the people - They were attacking each other, actually ripping fellow humans apart with their bare hands. 

Marleen couldn’t stop herself from watching and the closer she looked the more she saw. People biting into one another, tearing away at flesh and consuming what they could; as if starved. 

Each possessed person presented aggressive, filled with uncontrollable rage and hunger. Screaming, growling and strange gurgled sounds filled the city the pair of neighbours were now trying to flee. 

Denver knew the backroads of this city well, driving a delivery truck daily had its perks, so he led them through the maze of streets with ease. The closer they got to the outskirts, the quieter it got; less people, less screaming. 

“What is all this?” Marleen finally spoke after strained moments of stunned silence. Her voice was scratchy thanks to the muted crying she was unable to control. Denver sighed loudly, he couldn’t really give her a proper answer, all he knew was whatever this was; it was bad and they needed to get away as quickly as possible. 

“Not a clue, sweetheart.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I appreciate it so much! (And i know Esra ✨ does too) Feel free to leave a comment to let me know what you thought

-Sol ☀️

[sayosdreams]

Picture Us (Together Forever)

Word Count: 26,115

ACOTAR masterlist

__________

TW: mentioned past homelessness, mentioned past abuse, referenced death & suicide

__________

A/N: For @simpingfornestaarcheron, one year late. A huge thank you to @bookstantrash for all your help with everything from brainstorming to beta reading and editing! You're the reason I actually managed to complete this fic. Credit @vidalinav for the 'Cassian's love is loud' concept, which is so ingrained in his character for me that I always end up including it.

I know I haven't posted anything for over a year and a half — I've been busy with college and have gotten into other fandoms — but I hope this long, fluffy fic makes up for my absence. Honestly, it's probably the fluffiest thing I'll ever write of this length. Also, the number of blocks in this post exceeded the Tumblr post limit, so I edited the paragraph layout to fit. The original version is posted on ao3. Please enjoy!

Present day

“Hey, sorry I got a little late,” Nesta announced as she stepped into the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Cassian. “I got held up at work because some people apparently think my job is to do everything,” she explained as she took off her coat and undid her scarf. “Eris now seems to believe that I’m a secretary and that it’s my job to deal with all the parents who want to sign their kids up for lessons or have questions about our hours. Can you believe that Vassa expects me to cover Eris’ class next Tuesday during my lunch break because he ‘has to be out of town to go apple picking’? And then, to top it off, Briallyn came to talk to me about how some people want the rehearsals for The Firebird to be at a different time. Just because I’m one of the principal dancers doesn’t mean I coordinate the rehearsal times! I don’t know why she doesn’t just talk to the director or choreographer, honestly. It’s so-”

Nesta turned around and fell silent, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her. The living room was decorated with candles and flowers. Rose petals were lined up on the floor, creating a walkway that led to the coffee table, which was covered in a white tablecloth. Behind the table stood Cassian, wearing a wine-red colored button-down shirt, black pants, and a soft smile. 

“Cassian?” she asked, her confusion evident in her tone. Had she forgotten some important occasion? Nesta quickly ran through the list in her head. But, no, it wasn’t either of their birthdays, or their anniversary, or Valentine’s Day… So why had Cassian done all this? Sure, he had given her flowers ‘just because’ or organized impromptu date nights before, but this was on a whole different level. “What’s going on?”

Cassian’s grin split into an open-toothed smile, even as intensity and slight nervousness swam in his eyes. “Nesta, we met five years ago in the line for tickets to the Bone Carver concert, when you yelled at me for letting my friends cut the line. I turned around to yell right back, and the moment I did, my life changed. You’ve made my life so much better, in so many ways I can’t even find the words to describe. Every day with you is like a dream come true. We’ve made so many fantastic memories together over the years.”

He pulled the tablecloth off the coffee table in a sweeping motion. Nesta inhaled sharply as she took in the collection of polaroid pictures, recalling different special moments in their relationship. The collection was decorated with small doodles that Cassian had clearly drawn himself. 

She sank down to her knees in front of the table. 

“Cassian…” Nesta whispered, “This is beautiful.” 

Her eyes drifted across the paper, until they came to rest on a single photo. Her hand reached out as if she wanted to caress the image, but floated just a hair’s breadth away from it like it was too precious to bear her touch. 

Cassian kneeled down too, and glanced down at the photo she was looking at. He laughed, “Oh, yes. The bookstore date, where you used me as a human bookshelf.”

The corners of Nesta’s lips turned up. “Listen, I just wanted you to know what you were really signing up for.”

Cassian chuckled.

__________

Five years ago

“Where are you taking me?” Nesta asked for the sixth time. 

Cassian once again responded by shushing her, his eyes fixed on the road. 

Nesta sighed. Cassian had somehow managed to drive without using a GPS (a novel feat for him) so she couldn’t even peek at it to figure out their destination. Cassian clearly hadn’t considered how impatient Nesta was when he’d decided to plan a surprise for her. 

Nesta knew she should just sit back in her seat, relax, and enjoy whatever Cassian wanted to surprise her with, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited — of course she was, and she was touched that Cassian had gone through all this effort just to plan a surprise for her. But Nesta couldn’t help but be filled with anxiety. She didn’t always react well to situations she was thrust into unexpectedly, and she wished she at least had a hint about where they were going so that she could prepare accordingly. She didn’t want to start freaking out and push Cassian away, destroying the tentative relationship they had just started to build. 

She trusted Cassian and knew he’d never intentionally put her in a situation that made her uncomfortable. They had met about three months ago and he’d asked her out soon after. Although they hadn’t made anything official yet, Cassian was always so caring and kind to her, more than any of her exes. He always made her laugh and brought her Earl Grey tea with just the right amount of 2% milk. He’d given her his scarf when he’d noticed that she was cold and had never asked for it back. He loved to play with her hair, creating intricate braids as his hands tenderly massaged her head. His body was honed from ice hockey training and he towered over her, and yet he had never once made her nervous or uncomfortable, even when they had been two strangers arguing in line. 

Still, there were many things that Nesta had yet to tell Cassian about. While his gentle sweetness was making her walls come down, bit by bit, she was struggling to open up fully. She didn’t want to risk scaring him away and ruining everything they’d created. 

All in all, she knew Cassian would never try to make her uncomfortable, but there were many things that could set her off that he didn’t know about. If she started freaking out, and she lost him… It was stupid of her to get so attached to someone so quickly. He wasn’t even her boyfriend, for gods’ sake! Only her closest friends knew they were together. They weren’t keeping their relationship a secret, exactly, but telling everyone would put pressure on their relationship that they weren’t ready for. 

Cassian’s best friend, Rhysand, was dating Nesta’s youngest sister, Feyre. The two of them had met on a dating app called Bond a couple weeks after Nesta and Cassian’s encounter. They’d fallen head over heels in love with each other, and had moved in together after just one month. Feyre kept texting the Archeron sisters’ group chat about how much she loved Rhys and how she wanted to marry him. 

Nesta and Cassian needed to take their relationship at their own pace — meaning much, much slower than Feyre and Rhys. If Nesta and Cassian made it official and then broke up later… well, Nesta didn’t want to have to deal with gossip and pitying glances whenever they were at the same place together on top of everything else. Plus, she knew her sisters were nosy romantics who would start asking about going on double dates, planning Nesta and Cassian’s wedding, and making lists of their future babies’ names. 

She couldn’t deal with all of that right now. When her last serious relationship had ended, she’d been left with bruises, a mountain of trust issues, and not much else. It had taken her a long time to put herself back out there again — to trust others with her body, much less her heart. Cassian had proved himself a worthy candidate, willing to be patient with her and put her at ease to help her let her guard down.

What it boiled down to was that she cared about him, far more than she probably should, and it scared the crap out of her. But she was even more afraid of losing him.

“Alright, we’re here!” Cassian’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Close your eyes.”

Nesta took off her seatbelt and did as he asked. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. She listened to the click of Cassian unbuckling his seatbelt and the boom of his car door shutting. A cold breeze hit her as her door opened. She felt Cassian’s large, calloused hand slide into hers, guiding her as she stepped out of the car. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” she replied vaguely. 

A boom sounded, followed by a quick beep beep, indicating Cassian had locked the car.

“We’re almost there, I promise.”

He stood behind her and his hands came to rest on her shoulders, gently turning her to the right and then guiding her path. They walked in silence. Nesta was glad she’d thought to put on a sweater and a jacket as the chilly autumn wind swept past them again. 

Cassian suddenly stopped her and turned her body to the left. 

“Okay,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. His breath was hot against her neck. She shivered. “We’re here.” 

She opened her eyes, and gasped. 

A blue sign with the words “Pegasus Book Company” hung above a blue-framed door. A bell chimed as she entered the shop. Pegasus Book Company was one of the hidden gems of Prythian. Despite being an independent bookstore, it was quite large and well-stocked in many different genres. They also displayed artwork from local artists, which they changed every season. Most of all, the owner, Helion Spell-Cleaver, was said to be amazing at giving book recommendations. Nesta had always wanted to visit Pegasus, but she’d never found the time to drive all the way to Hemera District just to visit one store. She had only mentioned it to Cassian once in the passing. She couldn’t believe that he’d remembered and done this for her. 

“Cassian…” She whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. She turned to find him with an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face. 

“Surprise,” he said softly. “Sorry that I made you wait to know where we were going. I wanted to surprise you, but I know I made you kind of nervous when I didn’t tell you where I was driving to. Is it ok? I’m sorry if it felt like I was abducting you. I just wanted to, uh, not ruin the surprise.”

Nesta couldn’t find the words to explain how happy his surprise had made her. Instead, she pressed her lips to his and let the kiss express her feelings. 

When they finally pulled apart, her lips formed a smile that she couldn’t suppress if she tried and she added a quiet and genuine “Thank you.” 

She hoped he could read the emotions in her voice and her eyes to understand how much the thoughtful gesture meant to her. His nervous ramble, while unnecessary given how fantastic the surprise was, just showed how much he cared about her. She didn’t know how to handle such affection and kindness. She felt as though she’d cry or melt or burst with everything he made her feel. He treated her as though she were precious and beautiful, worthy of compassion and care, like her company was a gift. As though she mattered.

Later, as he carried the numerous books she selected and listened attentively to her rants about different characters, books, and authors, she was overwhelmed by the pure joy she felt and some other emotion that it was far too soon for her to name. 

Cassian was special — she’d known it since the moment they’d met, when her sharpness had intrigued him rather than pushed him away. He was so perfect and amazing, and yet cared about her so much that she was still in disbelief. The dread that he would wake up one day and realize that she wasn’t worth the trouble was constantly present, and made her hesitant to give him her all for fear of him shattering her completely. 

But it was already too late. 

She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself, by not putting a label on things. It didn’t change how much she cared about him or how she didn’t want to think about him ever leaving her life. It was only hurting her, and more importantly, him. Nesta knew that her fears and her trauma often made her struggle to express her emotions. She never wanted Cassian to doubt how much he meant to her. Yet, it always felt like Cassian was the one doing things for her: he was the one who had asked for her number, the one who usually texted first and planned their dates, and the one who gave her meaningful gifts and surprises. He never hesitated to show or tell her how much he cared. 

What if he didn’t know? She wondered suddenly. What if he genuinely thought that Nesta didn’t care as much — that their relationship didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him? The despair that the thought brought her was shocking in its intensity. 

So as Cassian sat down in the driver’s seat, ready to turn on the car, Nesta blurted out, “Wait!” 

He turned towards her, his face showing his surprise and concern. She acted instinctively, reaching over to pull his hands towards hers and then interlacing their fingers. She took a deep breath as she steeled her resolve. Cassian’s thumb slowly moved back and forth over her hand in a soothing gesture. He’d evidently noticed her nerves. His soft, silent support served to strengthen her determination that she had to do this. 

“Cassian, thank you so much for today,” she began. “It was such an amazing, thoughtful surprise. I really, really enjoyed it.” 

She paused, considering her next words.

“The past few months have been incredible. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. And I-”

“Wait! Nesta, please don’t,” Cassian interrupted. His body had gone tense and his eyes were dull in a way she’d never seen before. His hands had grown sweaty in hers. 

Nesta felt her heart drop. It was too soon, wasn’t it? Oh, gods, what had she been thinking? She’d misread the whole situation. If Cassian had wanted to put a label on their relationship, he would have asked. It was incredibly selfish of her to assume that she was the only one who’d had hangups about it. He would also be put in an awkward situation with Rhys and Feyre. And really, she and Cassian had only known each other for three months. Why had she thought that she should do this? As usual, she was ruining everything by moving too fast and being too intense. 

Cassian continued, his voice choking up slightly, “I know I can be- it can be too much, but I promise, I’ll- we can- this can be whatever you want. We can talk about it and I’ll- I can reel it in. I mean, I’ll respect your boundaries and, uh, wishes and, just. Please, we don’t need to end this completely, just- I-”

He cut himself off as Nesta untangled one of her hands from his. 

“No, wait,” he rushed, his eyes widening in alarm, “if that’s what you really want, then of course I’ll respect it, I just wanted- but- I mean, can we at least stay fr-”

He was cut off again, this time by Nesta’s pointer finger pressing into his lips. 

“Cassian,” she said, in a strong, confident, and reassuring voice, “will you be my boyfriend?” 

His expression morphed instantly, shock and joy flitting over his face.

Nesta waited patiently, sitting in silence, awaiting his answer. She watched as Cassian’s free hand moved to his thigh, which he pinched more than once. Finally, he met her eyes. His mouth was barely curved upwards, as if he was too astonished and emotional to form a smile. 

“Yes,” he replied. 

Cassian’s hand came up to rest ever-so-gently on her cheek as their lips met for a kiss. As they continued to get lost in each other, kissing in the middle of the day in a car parked on the side of a street, Nesta knew that this was what all those fairytales and romance novels were made of.

__________

Present day

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was going to break up with you,” Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “Right after I complimented you, too.”

Cassian shrugged. “It’s a foster kid thing,” he said lightly. “If someone’s being too nice, it just feels like they’re trying to let you down gently.” 

Nesta leaned across the table to press a kiss to his cheek in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. 

“I’m never going to leave you, stupid,” she said. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

Cassian smirked. “I sure hope so.” 

His eyes moved left to the next polaroid and his hand followed suit, coming to rest right above the image. 

“Do you remember that day?” he asked, tapping his pointer finger on the table. “I was so nervous.”

“What? Why were you nervous? I was the one performing!”

__________

Five years ago

“Do you think the tie is too tight?” Cassian asked, pacing in front of the bathroom mirror. “Did I do it wrong? Fuck, do you think it’s too colorful for a formal event? Maybe I should change it to black?”

“Breath, Cassian, breath,” Azriel replied, half-serious. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Az,” he pleaded.

“You look fine, Cassian. It’s going to go great. Don’t worry.”

Cassian was still fiddling with his tie. “And you don’t think the color is too much?” 

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “It’s burgundy.” 

Cassian continued to questioningly stare at Azriel.

Az sighed. “The color is fine. The tie is perfect.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Let’s get going.” 

“Oh, shit, are we late?” Cassian scrambled to grab his suit jacket, his keys, and his wallet. Where were those flowers he’d bought? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spent so much time worrying about my fucking tie.” He could have sworn he’d left them on the dining table, but that was empty save for the collection of books, papers, and notebooks that Azriel had organized into neat piles. Cassian checked the kitchen counters, only to find them empty, too. Had he put them in his room? He really needed to get more organized. They were already getting late, and he was going to further delay them. “You know what, just let me- You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later, once I find the bouquet.” 

“Cassian. Cassian!” Azriel snapped his fingers. Cassian paused his frantic search to look at Azriel, who was carrying Cassian’s bouquet in his arms along with two others. “I’ve got it, see? Now, let’s go.” 

Before Cassian could open his mouth, Az added, “We’re not late, don’t worry.” 

As they entered Bryaxis Hall, where the performance was being held, Cassian expected to feel the last of his nerves disappear. 

As soon as he stepped inside, he realized how wrong he was. 

The hall was decadent. The ceiling was higher than a three-story house, the floor was marble with a simple yet elegant carpet running down the center, and Greco-roman pillars with intricate designs lined the hall. A chandelier hung above the grand staircase. The walls were decorated with high relief panels, each portraying a distinct myth or story. 

He followed Azriel up the stairs in silence. He was too consumed by the message every piece of architecture and decoration seemed to be yelling at him: he didn’t belong here. 

It wasn’t like he’d never been to a fancy party before: the NHL had plenty of galas, but even when he was surrounded by his teammates and friends, he always felt like a fraud in a suit. 

Cassian wasn’t meant for luxuries and refinement. He’d grown up dirt poor, even when his mother had still been around. After her death, he’d essentially lived out of a backpack. He’d even spent a few nights out on the streets when he’d been placed in particularly bad foster homes. Until he’d met Shirina, Rhysand’s mother, he had never even eaten chocolate — at least that he could remember. 

He’d only been to watch ballet once before. Shirina had insisted that they see the Nutcracker for Yule, as that had been a tradition in her family. Rhys, being the eleven-year-old that he was, had complained the whole way about being dragged there against his will. Ayla, Rhys’ younger sister, had grumbled about having to watch the Nutcracker again, instead of seeing something different like Swan Lake. Cassian had remained silent. At twelve, he didn’t want to admit that he was interested and excited, for fear of appearing uncool. Still, he was curious and was glad that Shirina had remained insistent despite her children’s protests. 

The ballet had enraptured him. He sat there, amazed by the graceful movements, the silent jumps, the whip-fast pirouettes, and the perfectly synchronized motions. 

Now, as he glanced down at the playbill, he felt completely unqualified to be here. He had no idea what La Bayadère was about — quite frankly, he wouldn’t even know how to pronounce it if Nesta hadn’t told him. He didn’t know any of the ballet terminology, either. How was he going to tell Nesta what he thought of the performance if he didn’t even know how to verbalize it? 

He glanced over at Azriel, hoping to gain some insight. Azriel was close friends with Nesta and two of Nesta’s ballerina friends, Gwyn and Emerie, who were also in tonight’s ballet. Right as Cassian was about to ask, the lights dimmed and the audience fell silent. 

Cassian worried whether he would be able to focus on the performance with all of his anxieties swirling around his head. Nesta deserved his full attention — she had been practicing for this for so long, and had poured her heart and soul into her ballet. There were so many times when she’d been late to dates, staying back in her studio to practice a move that she wanted to perfect. 

But Cassian needn’t have worried. The moment the ballet began, he was completely in its thrall. All his thoughts fled. He sat there, mesmerized, as the ballerinas danced. When Nesta entered, his breath caught in his throat. She was radiant on stage, looking like a goddess, a queen, and a warrior-princess all wrapped up in one. 

After the show, when he handed her the bouquet and told her how incredible she’d been on stage, her expression made it all worth it. Her cheeks, flushed with exhaustion, were rounded as her mouth split into a jubilant smile. Her eyes were awed, as if she was so grateful for his words and presence but couldn’t quite believe he was here. Despite all of his anxieties, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. 

And as Cassian drove home, he realized he couldn’t wait to see Nesta’s next ballet performance. 

__________

Present day

“It really did mean the world to me that you came, you know,” Nesta admitted. “And I was so nervous about what you’d think.”

“Of course I was impressed! Anyone in their right mind would be.” His comment was light. There was no need to mention that Nesta’s ex, Tomas, had considered her job to be a ‘useless passion’ that ‘should only be a hobby’. Both of them knew Tomas was a hateful piece of shit who had done his best to drag Nesta down, and were infinitely grateful that she’d gotten away from him. 

Nesta shot Cassian a small smile before turning back to the pictures.

“Oh! The snowball fight!” She snorted. “Don’t show this to Rhys and Az, we don’t want to remind them.” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, grinning. “They’re big babies.”

__________

Five years ago

Nesta turned around, startled, as someone tapped her shoulder. 

She had been shoveling snow for the last thirty minutes in the dim light of the rising sun. Normally, she loved lying around in bed on snowy days. She was content to sit inside, drinking hot chocolate, watching the world through the window and feeling as though she had been transported inside a snow globe. One of the few perks of living in an apartment was that she didn’t need to shovel snow. 

Last night, however, she had stayed over at Cassian’s townhouse. Cassian’s roommate, Azriel, had gone out, presumably to spend the night with someone. Nesta considered Az to be a friend, but he was extremely private; she had no idea if he was seeing someone, let alone who that someone might be.

Nesta turned around. 

Cassian was standing there, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised. “Nesta, why didn’t you wake me up?” 

Nesta rolled her eyes and turned back around to keep shoveling. “You’re sore.”

She hadn’t expected to wake up to snow piled up almost five centimeters on the ground. It was the first snow of the winter, and she wanted nothing more than to watch the snow fall from the warmth of Cassian’s bed, curled up against her boyfriend. 

Then, she recalled the numerous bruises and cuts on Cassian’s body that she’d tended to yesterday. He had gotten thoroughly roughed up at his game, though when she’d remarked on it, he’d just laughed and replied that this didn’t even count as getting injured in ice hockey. Still, she’d seen him wincing as he reached to the left when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

So when she’d seen the snow this morning, she’d decided that, instead of going back to sleep, she would shovel the entire walkway and driveway before Cassian woke up. 

Clearly, she’d failed. 

“I’m fine!” Cassian replied, just as Nesta had anticipated. “I’m not-”

Nesta cut him off by shushing him. 

She had a little less than half the driveway left to shovel. She was adept at the art of ignoring someone trying to talk to you: after all, she’d grown up with two little sisters. So as Cassian continued to complain that he was not actually hurt and tried to convince her to hand over the shovel, she just tuned him out and focused on her task. She was making pretty good progress, in her opinion. Sure, her fingers were a little cold even in her gloves, but the desire to keep going and not let Cassian help at all motivated her. The spite kept her warm. 

She was almost a third way done when she heard coughing. She stopped abruptly and turned to Cassian, who was wiping snow off of his face.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my gods! I’m so sorry!” 

Cassian just laughed. “What, you didn’t mean to cover me in snow?”

He leaned down and grabbed a fist full of snow. “Let me show you a faster way to get rid of all this snow, sweetheart.” Nesta barely had time to duck before the snowball flew in her direction.

Abandoning the shovel, she ran away from him. Then, she made her own snowball, which she hid in her hand as she smiled at Cassian innocently. He smiled back and walked towards her until- Wham! Her snowball hit him square in the chest.

Nesta cheered. 

He gasped “Betrayal!” 

As she dodged his next snowball by a hair’s breadth, she stuck her tongue out at him. 

Her cold dissipated as their snowball fight continued. The progress she’d made on the driveway and walkway had definitely been ruined, but she found that she couldn’t care less. Twenty minutes later, when they went back inside, covered in snow, both of them were grinning ear to ear. 

It wasn’t until after they’d showered, changed, and were sipping hot chocolate that Cassian exclaimed, “Shit!” 

His drink sloshed, spilling out of his mug. Nesta took a large sip of her hot chocolate — it really did taste divine with marshmallows — and looked at him questioningly over the rim of her mug.

“You can’t tell Rhys,” Cassian pleaded. “He wouldn’t understand. We need to keep this a secret.”

“What, that I had a snowball fight with my boyfriend?” Nesta answered incredulously. 

Cassian’s face, however, was completely serious. “Yes.” 

“I wasn’t planning on telling him,” Nesta said, struggling not to laugh, “but now I’m curious to see what’ll happen, so…”

“No!” Cassian’s eyes went wide. “You see, every year, when it first snows, Rhys, Az, and I have a snowball fight. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years. If they find out that I had a snowball fight with you first…” Cassian shook his head, as if the possibilities were too horrific to even consider.

“So basically, you cheated on them with me?” A drop of hot chocolate spilled over and ran down the side of Nesta’s mug. She caught it with her finger, which she then brought to her lips.

Cassian’s eyes followed her finger. His Adam's apple bobbed as her finger left her mouth with a pop.

“I, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat. 

She smirked. “Well, I haven’t told them, but I did tell Gwyn and Emerie in our group chat when they asked what I was up to, so Az is definitely going to find out.”

Cassian groaned, putting his face in his hands. Nesta just continued sipping her hot chocolate, laughing quietly.

__________

Present day

“They’re definitely going to hold that against us forever,” Cassian sighed. “They were so mad. That whole winter, I had to watch my back. They just kept pelting me with snowballs whenever they got the chance.” 

“It was hilarious,” Nesta grinned. Then, catching Cassian’s look, she corrected herself. “I mean, it was very terrifying.” She tried for a serious expression but failed, erupting into laughter.

Cassian rolled his eyes, but she could see the smile he was trying to suppress.

“You know what else they’re going to hold against me forever?” Nesta pointed at the polaroid right under the one they’d been looking at. “This. I think I almost gave them heart attacks.”

“Oh, yes. Now, that was hilarious,” Cassian agreed.

__________

Four years ago

Vroom.

Nesta pulled up to the front of the lane, right as the light turned red. Sighing, she raised her face shield. 

She turned to the right, glancing absently at the car in the lane next to her. It was a black Mercedes-Benz, the same car Rhysand owned. As she looked through the rolled-down driver’s seat window, she realized that it was literally the same car, because Rhys was the one driving.

She called out to him, and he turned towards her — then did a double take.

“You- wha- how are you driving Cassian’s motorcycle?” Rhys spluttered. 

Azriel’s head peeked out behind Rhys’. They sported matching shocked expressions, complete with comically wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and parted lips. 

Nesta smirked. “It’s quite easy, actually. I wasn’t sure how I’d do, since I’d never driven a motorcycle before but,” Nesta patted the handles, “she’s a smooth ride.”

That was not what they’d meant by their question. 

Cassian had always dreamed of owning a motorcycle. After going through his finances and realizing that he could afford one now without stretching himself out too thin, he’d finally bought one last week. 

The motorcycle was his prized possession and he was fiercely protective of it. He took the time to polish it after each ride, checking to make sure there wasn’t a single scratch on his treasure. Rhys and Az had been begging to ride it ever since he’d gotten it, but he’d starkly refused, claiming they were both too irresponsible. It was laughable, because Azriel was easily the most responsible member of their trio, but even he wasn’t allowed to do more than look at it. When Az had run a single finger across the paint, Cassian had pulled him away, declaring that Azriel was being too rough and that he clearly hadn’t thought about how the oils from his fingers would interact with the materials on the bike to shorten its lifespan. Azriel had pointed out that the motorcycle was meant to be ridden, but Cassian had ignored him. 

Of course it made sense that Cassian would be so overprotective of his motorcycle. He had never had many possessions. He hadn’t ever owned more than one pair of shoes until he was thirteen, when Shirina insisted on getting him snow boots and dress shoes. He’d replied, “But my sneakers still fit,” confused, and grew even more confused when Shirina wrapped him in a hug in response. 

A motorcycle was something he’d never realistically imagined being able to afford. He’d look at magazines and at the seniors who’d pull up to high school in the Harvey-Davidsons that their fathers had bought them, thinking about what kind of motorcycle he would have wanted if he’d been born to rich parents who were still alive. Now that his wildest dream had become reality, he would guard it to the best of his ability.

He knew that Rhys and Azriel would treasure it as well. They knew that he loved the bike and would never do anything to intentionally harm it. Yet, they had both grown up with money. They didn’t understand the instinct Cassian had to protect the little that was his, because they had grown up with so much to claim as their own. To them, possessions were replaceable. Despite the wealth Cassian had gained, he could never shake off the memory of being a child curled around a backpack as he slept on the street instead of covering himself with it for warmth because he was afraid it would get stolen. 

So when Cassian had casually offered to let Nesta try riding it, she was shocked to say the least. 

“Are you sure?” she’d asked about a hundred times, but his answer never changed. When she’d admitted that she had never ridden a motorcycle before, he had just replied, “I’m honored to be your first,” with a wink. He then took Nesta, who was blushing and rolling her eyes, outside to teach her the basics. 

“Alright,” he said with a clap, twenty minutes later. 

Nesta got off the bike, assuming he wanted to return it to its position in the garage. 

“Want to take it for a whirl?” he said instead.

She spun around to face him. “Really? But I… I wouldn’t want to damage your motorcycle. I know how important it is to you and, well, are you sure you want me to ride it?”

Cassian just shrugged, smiling. “No pressure, of course, if you’d rather not ride a motorcycle, but I’d love for you to try.” Something shifted in his eyes as he said, “I’d love to share it with you.”

Nesta blinked. She had grown up very differently from Cassian. She’d been born into a wealthy, upper-class family that later lost its wealth when her father got laid off and her mother fell ill. The medical bills piled up as her father searched in vain for work during a recession, and once her mother passed away, her father fell into the arms of alcoholic depression. Luckily, Nesta had enough training and experience by that point to gain a scholarship to her ballet school. 

So while Nesta had experienced poverty, it was never in the way that Cassian had. She could only understand Cassian’s desperation to hold on to his possession on an intellectual level. 

She didn’t know why he would trust her with something so precious.

“Of course I trust you,” Cassian added, as though he’d read her mind. He kissed her on the forehead, as if to say ‘you’re precious to me’. Nesta closed her eyes. 

“Um,” she whispered, then cleared her throat to continue in a stronger voice, “I’d be honored.” Then, she glanced down at the dress she was wearing. “Maybe tomorrow?” she added.

Cassian laughed that hearty, deep laugh that always made her heart clench. “Can’t wait, sweetheart.”

So here she was, the next day, riding Cassian’s motorcycle. She’d been sure to dress more appropriately in her leather pants, jacket, and boots. She asked Cassian to confirm that her outfit was ok, just to make sure. He hummed approvingly as she spun around.

He then sat her down, and put on her elbow pads and knee pads on her. If it had been anyone else, she would have complained incessantly about being treated like a child; because it was Cassian, who touched her so tenderly as he adjusted the straps, she couldn’t feel anything except gratitude and joy. 

“Ready?” He asked as she sat down on the bike. She gave him a thumbs up as he took a step back, gazing as though he was an artist who was looking at the tableau he’d painted. Dressed all in black, atop a black motorcycle, Nesta felt like she cut quite the figure. She felt powerful, as though she could do anything. 

She turned on the engine and was about to get going when Cassian shouted, “Wait!” and ran over to her. She paused, looking up at Cassian as he ran over to her and lifted her face shield. 

He kissed her, hard, and she melted into it. When he pulled away, she sat there for a moment, dazed. She brought a hand to her lips and continued to stare at Cassian. His parted lips were dark red, stained with her lipstick. 

She took a deep breath, blinking a few times to regain her focus and dispel all the images of a naked Cassian from her mind. She pulled down her face shield, revved the motorcycle, and set off. 

“But- how did you get Cass to agree to let you ride his bike?” Azriel asked, astounded.

Nesta shrugged, grinning. “What, like it’s hard?”

She zoomed off as the light turned green, leaving Rhys and Az in the dust with their mouths hanging wide open. 

__________

Present day

“I’ll cherish that moment forever,” Nesta laughed. 

Cassian grinned back at her, then pointed to a picture in the bottom row. 

“You know what I’ll cherish forever? This one.”

Nesta looked at it and sighed. “Great, now mine seems shallow. Why do you have to be so kind and thoughtful?”

“I’ll try to stop.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

__________

Four years ago

Cheers filled the rink.

“GO DRAKON!” yelled the girl sitting right next to Nesta.

Emerie, who was sitting on her other side, held back a hissing Nesta by grabbing both her shoulders. 

“That was ridiculous,” Nesta said through clenched teeth. “Why isn’t the ref saying anything? That was definitely a foul!” 

“It was a beautiful goal,” Rhysand corrected.

Nesta’s fiery glare turned to him and he withered as she snapped, “Whose side are you on?”

It was Nesta’s first time being at Cassian’s game. Of course, she’d seen his games on TV before, but both of them had agreed that she should wait before attending a game and being in the presence of all his fans and the media. Now that they had been officially dating for over a year, they’d both felt it was time. Nesta’s best friends, Gwyn and Emerie, had decided to accompany her. They had both claimed that they just wanted to watch the game, but she knew that they really were there to provide her with moral support.

Sadly, Cassian’s team — the Velaris Ghost Leopards — was currently losing 4-2 to the Adriata Sirens. Nesta, who never followed ice hockey closely until meeting Cassian, had been yelling up a storm as passionately as any long-time die-hard Ghost Leopards fan. They were about halfway through the third period and any hope that the Ghost Leopards could win was slowly disappearing. Especially as Jurian Zbirak, the Sirens’ center, passed discreetly to Varian Ulwandle, the left winger who was famously good at scoring. 

“I can’t watch,” Gwyn grimaced as Varian got past the Ghost Leopards’ defenceman, Andras Lupo. The crowd held their breath as Varian took the shot and- 

“Saved!” Emerie yelled as Rhysand let out a whoop. 

Thesan Vu, the Ghost Leopards’ goalie, had managed to save it beautifully.

Nesta gasped loudly as Kallias Neve, the Ghost Leopards’ center, took the puck and skated forward. Unfortunately, the other team’s defense was extremely strong, and caught sight of him almost immediately. Kallias cut sharply to the left, but the defenseman Eris Vanserra quickly shifted positions to block him. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nesta chanted. Emerie was biting her nails anxiously next to her and Azriel was covering his mouth with his hands.

Kallias tried to deke Eris by feigning left and then cutting right, but Eris had seen through his tricks and was about to steal the puck when- 

Nesta jumped out of her seat. “Look!”

Kallias had managed to trick Eris after all. He’d drop passed the puck to Cassian, who was now zooming towards the goal. By the time Eris and Devlon Lyons, the other Sirens defenseman, realized and headed for Cassian, it was already too late. 

Nesta held her breath as Cassian got into position, took the shot and- 

“He scored!” Nesta cheered at the top of her lungs. 

Her throat was definitely going to be sore tomorrow but she didn’t even care. 

She watched as Cassian lit up with glee and his teammates congratulated him. This was why she cheered so hard, why she cared so much about the sport. It wasn’t as though she’d magically become obsessed with ice hockey when she’d met Cassian. No, it was the joy that the sport brought him and the way he put his heart and soul into it — giving it his all at every game, every training, every play — that made her passionate about it. Cassian worked so incredibly hard at hockey and it was such a big part of his life. How could something so important to him not be important to her, too? 

Cassian’s eyes locked on hers. Nesta froze. 

He brought his left hand to his lips and blew her a kiss. 

The crowd went wild as Cassian’s fans assumed he’d blown it to them. But Nesta could only sit down, dazed. She didn’t know why she felt so shocked that her boyfriend had blown her a kiss. They’d done far more than kiss, for gods’ sake. Perhaps it was because it had been in front of everyone, like Cassian was declaring his affection for her publicly and showing that he wasn’t ashamed of being with her. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d thought of her in the middle of a game, as though he never stopped thinking about her, even when he was singularly focused on ice hockey.

Emerie elbowed Nesta in the ribs and stage-whispered, “Your face is red, you know.” 

“Shut up,” was Nesta’s dignified response.

With five minutes left in the period, the Sirens held control of the puck.

“Are they just wasting time, trying to run out the clock?” Nesta huffed. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

Drakon Aliyev — the Sirens’ right winger — kept passing back and forth with the Jurian and Varian, barely moving forward. 

“C’mon!” Rhysand jeered. 

Suddenly, with thirty seconds left on the clock, Jurian sped forward. He weaved between Ghost Leopards’ players, dodging and deking them. 

Twenty seconds. 

Andras closed in on Jurian, but Jurian back passed to Drakon right before Andras caught up to him. Drakon skated past them, zigzagging to avoid the other players who attempted to catch up to him. 

Ten seconds.

As Lucien — the Ghost Leopards’ other defenseman — moved in to body-check him, Drakon made eye contact with Varian, who had skated forward and was completely open. Drakon turned towards Varian, leaning his left shoulder down to pass to him.

Five seconds. 

Lucien shifted to guard Drakon’s right side, blocking him from passing to Varian. 

Four.

Drakon turned his hockey stick, which was on the left of the puck, to position it behind the puck, and aimed at the goal. Lucien scrambled to move back to his previous position in front of Drakon. 

Three. 

Drakon’s stick hit the puck, taking a strong shot. It flew through the middle of Lucien’s legs, headed straight towards the goal.

Two. 

Thesan shifted his stick and crouched down, moving into position to block the puck. 

One.

The puck landed on the ice a hair’s breadth in front of Thesan and slid through the small gap between his stick and his foot, straight into the goal.

Zero.

The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts. 

Nesta was chief among them. “What? That’s crazy! The puck was not completely over the line before the buzzer! Why the fuck are they counting it?” 

“It actually was,” Rhysand replied. “Wasn’t it an amazing buzzer beater, Az?”

Nesta was fuming. “What? Were you even watching the game? About a third of the puck hadn’t crossed the line! Don’t you agree, Az?” 

Az looked between them with wide eyes and then wisely chose to say, “Hey, why don’t we try to go catch Cassian before he has to go to the changing room?” 

Nesta was still grumbling as they walked up to where Cassian was talking to his teammates.

Azriel tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around, his disappointed frown turning into a friendly smile. Then, his eyes landed on Nesta and his expression softened. 

Nesta peered up at him and sent him a small smile. But a second later, she resumed her muttering, hissing under her breath, “I can’t fucking believe the refs don’t give a shit about the Sirens’ blatant cheating.”

Rhysand, who was standing right next to Nesta, groaned loudly. Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. “This one,” Rhys began, tilting his head towards Nesta, “hasn’t stopped complaining about the Sirens and the refs.” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “They didn’t fucking cheat, Nesta. They won. Just accept it and move on.” He turned to Cassian with a glance that said ‘urg, can you believe her?’ 

Unfortunately for Rhysand, he was not met with the sympathetic backup he’d anticipated from Cassian. Instead, Cassian’s face split into a huge grin that only widened when Nesta retorted, “Well, it’s true! I swear the puck wasn’t fully over the line when I heard the buzzer. The refs were definitely biased, because they called the Ghost Leopards’ offsides in period 1 but not any of the Sirens’ fouls!” 

He let out a breathy laugh as wonder and joy lit up his eyes. He enveloped Nesta with his arms, burying his smile in her hair. 

Time froze.

Their eyes closed like camera shutters as they stood still, taking in the moment and committing it to memory. They were both silent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions.

An eternity later, Cassian broke the silence, whispering “Thank you” into Nesta’s neck. He let her go, but not before pressing a kiss against her cheek.

__________

Present day

“You know, it meant the world to me to see that you defended me so fiercely.” Cassian’s tone was sincere but still light, as one could only be with those whom they’d been vulnerable with many times before. “To know that you cared so much about me… well. It’s not like no one cared about me before, you know, obviously I had Rhys and Az and stuff, but I still struggled with really believing that people could care about me — that I could matter to people. That moment… Of course it didn’t completely ‘fix’ me,” Cassian made air quotes with his fingers, “but I think that’s when it really clicked and I realized that you felt the same way about me that I felt about you — that I mattered to you, too.”

Nesta swallowed, realizing that she was choking up, which was extremely uncharacteristic of her. The closest she usually got to crying was when she read about fictional characters, and even then she almost never felt tears welling up as they were now. 

“I love you,” Nesta answered quietly. It was the truth, plain and simple. “You matter to me, and you always have.”

“I love you too,” Cassian answered. His hand reached out to cover hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

A moment later, he pointed to another polaroid in the bottom row. 

“This one was next, right?”

“Yeah,” Nesta said, her eyes twinkling as she reminisced. “Those views were so worth it, but damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired and sore.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh really? Not even-”

“Nope,” Nesta interrupted with a smirk of her own.

Cassian blinked, as though her reply had genuinely shocked him. Once he recovered, he answered, “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?” 

He winked. 

Nesta rolled her eyes, but brought a hand to cheek to cover what she assumed was her rather obvious blush. 

__________

Four years ago

“Are you sure you don’t need to drink more water?” Cassian asked again.

“Yes, Cassian, I’m just as sure as I was when you asked me two seconds ago,” Nesta replied, a small smile on her lips despite her slight irritation at his repetitive questioning. Nesta would never in a million years admit that she liked Cassian’s coddling, but in truth she did enjoy knowing how much he cared. 

They’d decided to get away from the city for a week to go on the backpacking trip they’d been talking about for months now. Miraculously, Cassian’s off-season had aligned perfectly with Nesta’s and they intended to make full use of it. 

Initially, they had considered inviting some of their friends and family to join them on a hike to a different location, but after Nesta’s argument with Rhysand over reproductive freedoms dissolved into an intense shouting match with personal attacks, Cassian had decided to limit the trip to just the two of them. He’d hoped to give them some space from each other to help them cool off. 

There was also an additional reason he had decided not to invite anyone else — most notably Rhysand — that he hadn’t told Nesta. The day after the row, Cassian had gone to see Rhysand, hoping to help clear the air. Instead of being regretful and guilty, Rhysand had been stubborn, claiming that Nesta was the only one who needed to apologize. He called Nesta a “vicious bitch”, saying that he didn’t know why Cassian would want to be with such a “fucked up person who clearly had way too many issues” and “only wanted Cassian for the money and fame”. When he laughed, “The sex must be really good for you to put up with her,” spitting out the last word as though Nesta was the scum of the Earth who wasn’t even worthy of being named by Rhysand, Cassian had exploded. 

He’d completely lost it, snarling and hurling insults at Rhys. He’d yelled that Rhys was clearly so insecure that he couldn’t accept when he was wrong and had to tear others down to try to fix his fragile ego. 

“Maybe you want to pretend you’re perfect because you don’t know how to love people, flaws and all,” Cassian had hissed. “So yeah, Nesta might have some ‘issues’ but so do I. And guess what? That’s fine. We still care about each other, for real. Unlike you, we don’t feel the need to lie about who we are. At least our relationship is real and is based on honesty and truth.” 

It had been a low blow, to allude to his previous relationships. Rhys had dated Amarantha, a wealthy actress and politician’s daughter, at his parents’ request back when Rhys’ dad, Hadrian, was still running the conglomerate called Night Court Corporations which was later passed down to Rhys. This had been both a PR stunt, which showed rivals just how strong and influential their family was and distracted the media from Ayla’s underage drunk driving, and a way to gain Amarantha’s father’s support in giving Night Court Corporations a tax break. Their relationship had been faker than Amarantha’s tan. 

His only real relationship before Feyre had been with Carmella, a girl who worked at a coffee shop he used to frequent, although calling it ‘real’ was a stretch, as Rhysand had lied to her about his family and his past. They had dated for almost a year, and Az and Cassian had met the poor girl numerous times, but Rhysand had insisted that he would keep being ‘Reese, son of an office worker’ when he was with her in order to avoid ‘getting used’. 

So yes, the comment had been mean and Cassian had felt slightly guilty about it, despite it being true. 

But then, Rhys had retorted, “Real? Please, Cassian, I can’t believe that you can’t see through her! She doesn’t ‘care about you’ or whatever, she only cares about the money, just like everybody else like her!”

Cassian’s eyes had narrowed and he’d slowly bit out, ��Like her? What do you mean by that?”

His eyes had flashed with rage and pain, because he’d known exactly what Rhysand meant. 

His suspicions were confirmed when Rhys’ expression had twitched. He’d meant people who weren’t as famous, as well-to-do, as wealthy. People who didn’t have a trust fund or a summer house or extra cars. People who couldn’t take vacations or make big purchases without saving up first. People who couldn’t say ‘money isn’t a problem’. People like Nesta who had to have side jobs in addition to their main one just to be able to afford rent in a city like Velaris. And people like Cassian, for whom even food and housing and safety had never been a guarantee, let alone new clothing or vacations. 

Rhysand had just implied that Cassian had never cared about Rhysand or Shirina or Ayla or Hadrian. That Cassian had only been with them for the money and that all the love he had for them was fake. 

Rhysand stayed silent.

Cassian repeated, “What do you mean, Rhys?”

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. It wasn’t about- I’m just trying to help you! She doesn’t actually care.” At Cassian’s murderous glare, he amended, “And even if she does, she doesn’t deserve you! I’m just trying to rescue you, man.”

“Rescue me?” Cassian laughed, coldly. “I’m not some semi-homeless kid anymore. I don’t need a fucking hero to save me. Maybe you want to think I’m some helpless victim because you can’t stand the fact that I’m finally happy and I don’t need you anymore. How are you going to feed your savior complex now?”

Rhysand scoffed, glaring down at him as though Cassian were a peasant and he were a god. It only served to fuel the cold flames of Cassian’s anger.

“Or maybe you don’t like that I’m succeeding,” Cassian said, his voice quiet and dangerous. “You don’t like that I’m rich and famous and I did it all on my own. I worked hard and got here and I’m only gonna keep rising. Who are you gonna look down at now to remind yourself just what a special little boy you are?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Rich? Please, Cassian, you’re doing okay, but you could never be as rich as me. And all on your own? Need I remind you that I gave you a house and food and clothes? I paid for your hockey gear and for chauffeurs to drive you to games. You worked hard, sure, but so did I. We’re the same, so stop trying to act like you’re any better than me.”

“Aww, did I hurt your fragile little ego?” Cassian pouted mockingly. “You know that you didn’t do any of that, right? Shirina and Hadrian paid for all those things. And yes, they helped me, but at least I got my job because of skill and hard work. You got yours because you were born a boy. We’re not the same and we’ll never be.”

“You’re right,” Rhysand replied coolly. “We’re not the same. I don’t know why I ever bothered to pretend otherwise.”

Cassian had stormed out, tossing a “By the way, it’s called a taxi, not a chauffeur!” over his shoulder as he exited.

Admittedly, it had not been his best comeback.

After that incident, Cassian had decided not to speak to Rhys for a while, let alone invite him on any trips.

As they hiked up the hilly landscape, Cassian was grateful he’d decided to spend this time alone with Nesta instead. Somehow, the whole trip felt so much more meaningful with her by his side, like this was a glimpse at the life they were building together. 

“Gods, my legs are definitely going to hurt after today,” Nesta mumbled as they hiked up an especially steep section.

“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break- or should I carry you?” Cassian hurriedly replied. 

Nesta just laughed, staring pointedly at his backpack. “Literally how?”

Cassian gestured to his front. “You doubt my strength?”

“Yes,” Nesta teased, sticking her tongue out at him before speed walking ahead. 

“Wait up!”

Each night, they shared a tent. Despite starting out in sleeping bags on separate mattress pads, they always ended up cuddling together, supposedly for warmth. A couple nights in, Nesta figured out how to zip their sleeping bags together to create a single larger sleeping bag, whispering “Oh no, there’s only one bed!” as she did so. 

Every morning, Cassian would wake Nesta up with a kiss to her cheek. She’d always scrunch her face and groggily mutter, “No, don’t do that, I’m disgusting.”

“You could never be disgusting, sweetheart,” Cassian would reply, prompting Nesta to open her eyes only to roll them at him. 

When they finally arrived at Windhaven Overlook, their destination, they spent a day admiring the views and having a small picnic. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Nesta said, resting her head on Cassian’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you’d want to share this with me.”

Cassian kissed her forehead in response. 

He had been to this spot only twice before, but it was still one of the most important locations for him. 

The first time, Enalius had brought him here. Enalius was a man close to Cassian’s heart. They’d first met when Enalius approached Cassian, whose face was glued to a window, watching an ice hockey team practice. Cassian had snuck into the skating rink for warmth and to use the vending machines and the water fountains, but had let his guard down, enthralled by the skaters. 

“Are you spying on them?” were the first words out of Enalius’ mouth. 

“What? NO!” Cassian had tried to run, but Enalius clasped his shoulder with a strong arm. 

“Really? What team do you play for?”

“I don’t play hockey!” 

At that, Enalius had frowned. “Really? That’s a shame. I think you might be good at it. Why don’t you ask your parents to sign you up for a class sometime?” 

Cassian’s eyes had dropped to the floor. “No, that’s okay.”

“C’mon, now,” Enalius had tried again. “I’m sure you could be better than those boys in no time.”

“I’ve never even skated before.”

Enalius raised an eyebrow as Cassian furiously backtracked, realizing that he’d basically admitted he’d snuck in. 

“Uh, I mean, I’ve never skated in, uh, hockey rinks with, uh-”

Enalius smiled. “Don’t worry, kid.” He looked Cassian up and down once more and sighed, “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try? You’ll never know what it’s like until you give it a go.”

Cassian shrugged.

“Well, if you ever think you want to, just tell the lady at the counter over there that Enalius Ramiel told you to sign up for a lesson with him, okay? And get your parents to sign all the release forms and stuff.”

“Oh, they, uh, can’t do that.”

Enalius cocked his head. “Should I talk to them? Don’t worry, lessons aren’t actually that expensive, and I’ll give you a little discount.”

“No, um, you can’t talk to them,” Cassian mumbled uncomfortably.

Enalius took a step back. “Sorry kid, didn’t mean to pressure you. Lemme know if you ever want me to talk to your parents or anything.”

As Enalius started to turn around, Cassian was suddenly caught by a panic and blurted, “You can’t talk to them ’cause they’re dead.” 

Enalius froze. 

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I see.” 

He studied Cassian’s face for a moment and then grabbed his hand, power-walking towards the check-in counter. They cut to the front of a long line of people as Enalius flashed a badge.

“Hey, Val, can we book rink 3 for a private lesson?” Enalius asked the lady at the counter with a grin. 

“Sure, when do you want to schedule it for?” 

“Now.” 

Val raised her eyebrows. “Now? Are you joking?” 

Enalius shook his head. 

Val just sighed. “Fine, but I don’t think the ice has been refreshed in a while. Also, it’s booked after 5:30, so you’ve got a little less than an hour.”

“Thanks, Val, you’re the best.” Then, he turned to Cassian. “What size are your feet?” 

“Um… 6?” Cassian guessed, rounding up a size from his current too-small sneakers. 

“A pair of size 6 hockey skate rentals, too,” Enalius added. “Put it all on my tab.”

Then, he leaned in to whisper something Cassian couldn’t hear, which made Val sigh, “Oh, Ali, I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

The next hour had changed Cassian's life. He’d started out wobbling, barely staying vertical and walking instead of skating on the ice. By the end, he was gliding effortlessly, skating around and in between the cones Enalius set up. He fell in love with ice skating. 

So Cassian returned, day after day, getting free private lessons from Enalius, and he soon became enamored by ice hockey, too.

Enalius became Cassian’s mentor, not only teaching him hockey but also buying Cassian snacks or dinner and making sure he got back safely. It was Enalius who later introduced Shirina, his childhood friend, to Cassian, further changing his life.

It wasn’t until much later that Cassian learned what a famous and successful hockey player Enalius was. Enalius remained Cassian’s coach right until he joined the NHL himself.

There were few people who were as important to Cassian as Enalius. And that was why this place that Enalius had brought him to years ago was so special to Cassian. 

Shirina, Hadrian, Rhysand, and Ayla had decided to go abroad and travel alongside some cousins during fall break. Enalius had overheard Shirina hesitating about leaving Cassian home alone for the week and had offered to take him on a trip of their own. Cassian, who had never been on a trip as far as he was aware of, was ecstatic and it did not disappoint. It became one of Cassian’s best memories.

The second time he came to this spot was after Shirina’s death. Rhysand and Ayla had been inconsolable, each grieving in their own way: Rhysand never spent a moment alone, as though he could bury his feelings in the high of socializing and parties, while Ayla barely spoke or even left her room. Hadrian was trying his best to keep it together, but was clearly in way over his head — managing the children and their emotions had always been Shirina’s department, not his. Luckily, their extended family had flown into town to help them all. Friends and acquaintances had reached out, trying to find ways to support them through all the grief. 

Cassian, who couldn’t really be classified as a friend or family to Shirina, had been overlooked. It wasn’t like he expected anything different, but watching everyone comforting each other and ignoring him hurt. It was as though he had no right to grieve — to be this hurt by her death — and maybe he didn’t, but she had been the closest thing he’d had to a parent since he’d been 5 years old. He’d loved her, too. No, he wasn’t her child, but he was something to her, even if it couldn’t be labeled so easily. 

Now she was gone and whatever they had been was erased. It didn’t matter that he’d used his first paycheck to buy her a birthday present, or that she had attended all his home NHL games, or that they’d often go on walks together. It didn’t matter that she always knew when he needed a hug or that she’d taught him how to cook. 

Cassian had decided to hike to Windhaven Overpass to get out of his own head. 

The journey had helped him to process his emotions. The sunsets and the plant life around him had seemed far more beautiful that time, reminding him of how much Shirina had loved nature. At night, the stars seemed brighter than normal, and he recalled Shirina explaining to him that in her culture, stars were considered to be ancestral and guardian spirits looking down at you and guiding you. 

Cassian felt like Shirina had been there, watching him from the sky and reaching out with a comforting hand as he struggled. That trip, he had gotten angry and laughed joylessly and sobbed. He’d felt empty and about to explode at the same time. He had gotten to be something different from the strong, smiling version of himself that he usually presented to the public. In the end, the trip had helped him find some sort of closure and peace with Shirina’s death.

Now, Cassian had brought Nesta here.

He had told her about his prior trips with Windhaven and what the location meant to him, but actually bringing her here was a sign that Cassian was willing to be vulnerable with her. 

He had always feared people would leave him and that he was replaceable, and worried about tainting such a special place with memories of someone who would later leave his life. 

And yet, Cassian had brought her here.

“This spot is important to me, Nes, and so are you,” Cassian said. “Thank you for coming. It’s my honor to be here, with you.”

He didn’t say: ‘I’m not worried about bringing you here because what we have is different — it’s meant to last.’

He didn’t say: ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about enough to let myself be vulnerable like this with — you could destroy me, but I’m willing to take that chance.’

He didn’t say: ‘I love you.’

And yet, that was what they both heard.

__________

Present day

“I knew you were in love with me the second you invited me on that trip,” Nesta smirked. 

“Sweetheart, I was gone for you way before then,” Cassian laughed. 

“That’s true,” she grinned. “You had an embarrassingly massive crush on me for the longest time. And you must’ve loved me a whole lot to let me get away with making Rhys grovel like that.”

“First of all, get your facts straight: I still have an embarrassingly massive crush on you,” he replied. “And secondly, well, Rhys deserved it and also it was really entertaining to watch.”

The day after they’d gotten back, Rhysand had sent Cassian and Nesta a long message, asking them to meet up so that he could apologize in person. Nesta decided that they should talk to Rhys separately. 

Cassian went first. Rhys apologized profusely for all the names he’d called Nesta, for all the things he’d implied about Cassian, and for all the insults. Cassian in turn apologized for his part, and the two of them had a chat in which Rhys admitted that he’d acted like an entitled prick and that he was genuinely sorry. They made up and quickly forgave each other, like the pseudo-brothers they were.

Nesta and Rhysand were an altogether different story. Rhysand apologized to her as well, but she answered that while she accepted his apology, she could not forgive him so easily. 

She understood that he didn’t like her, and that was his right, but she also felt that he couldn’t try to make claims about her character when he barely knew her. She told him that she was perfectly fine with having a tepid relationship with him where they would only speak when strictly necessary or that they could try to get to know each other better. Rhysand went with the second option. From there, they went on to have many long discussions. Once they’d gotten a bit closer, Nesta returned to their original point of contention: reproductive freedoms. She made Rhys listen to podcasts and read articles and watch videos about what reproductive freedom really was and why it was so important. “You don’t have to change your opinion,” she’d said, over and over. “You just need to be informed before you try to make claims about what others should or shouldn’t do with their bodies and their lives.”

It was only months later that Nesta finally stopped putting him through the wringer and told him that she’d forgiven him. 

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Cass. It definitely was all for your entertainment, no other reason at all for us to argue,” Nesta replied dryly.

Her eyes drifted to the polaroid in the bottom right corner. “Now that,” she pointed, “that was entertainment. What a show!” She licked her lips and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly. 

“It was completely staged, of course,” Cassian joked. “The whole thing was just for your pleasure.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “My ‘pleasure’?” 

“My, my, what a dirty mind you have, Nesta!” Cassian fake-gasped. “A proper gentleman would never imply something so improper to a lady like yourself.”

“A proper gentleman? Where?” she retorted without missing a beat. 

He clutched his chest. “You wound me, m’lady.” He shook his head. “And to think, I was your knight in shining armor that day…”

“More like knight in very little armor.”

__________

Three years ago

Plunk.

They watched, immobilized by shock, as the necklace drifted below the water’s surface. 

It fell slowly, until it became only a vague shadow in the water.

“Nesta?” “Nesta, are you ok?” 

Voices faded in and out of Nesta’s awareness. She tried to force herself to smile, to nod that she was completely, totally fine. Unfortunately, she seemed to have lost the ability to control her body. 

It was so, so stupid. She’d been having such a wonderful day. And now, she’d ruined it.

Cassian and Azriel had prepared a group trip to Ravennia Park, complete with a lovely picnic lunch in the field of blooming daffodils. Cassian had even made sure to include all her favorite foods in the lunch. Afterward, they walked around the park, stopping occasionally to take pictures or listen to birds. 

They had stopped on this small bridge so that Feyre could take pictures of the glistening lake and the paddling of ducks that had just entered the water. Nesta had leaned over the railing, chatting with Cassian as she watched the colorful koi fish swim.

Her necklace had snapped suddenly, tumbling into the water before anyone could react. 

Her silver necklace, which her father had given her for her eighth birthday, disappeared under the surface of the lake. Gone, just like her middle school best friend, Clare Beddor, who had drowned herself in a pool. Gone, just like her father.

Until her mother got sick, Nesta had had an amazing relationship with her father. She would sit next to him, listening intently as he explained how trading and shipbuilding worked. She was always the one to run and open the door when he came home from work, enveloping him in a hug. She loved it when he read her bedtime stories and watched her dance around the living room.

Then, everything changed. Her illusion that he could do no wrong broke when her mother told her that the reason she wasn’t getting better from her illness was that they couldn’t afford good doctors and medicine since her father had lost his job. After that, Nesta’s resentment only grew as the misfortunes piled up. Her mother died and they couldn’t afford the funeral that she’d wanted. Her sisters had to change schools. They moved into a smaller house, with a bedroom that all three sisters shared. They struggled to put food on the table. 

When her father decided to sell art instead of looking for another job, saying he couldn’t rely on others to give him work, Nesta fumed. How could he sit there, carving wood and drinking beer, while Feyre worked overtime at her job in addition to school and she and Elain did all the cooking and cleaning? Nesta had vowed to leave as soon as she could, and, it turned out, that ballet allowed her to leave the nest sooner than expected. 

Still, she’d felt guilty leaving her sisters to fend for themselves in that house, and then felt even angrier at her father for not taking care of them and putting Nesta in a position where she felt guilty for following her dreams. 

Suffice to say, Nesta had a difficult relationship with him — one that was made all the more complex when he died of a sudden heart attack. 

It had taken Nesta a long time to process and make peace with his death. 

She’d decided to wear the necklace her father had given her today, in honor of his birthday. Once upon a time, she had worn this necklace all the time, showing off the token of her father’s affection. By putting it back on, she felt like she was healing a teenage Nesta, who had violently taken off her necklace at her mother’s funeral and shoved it into the drawer of her bedside table. 

And now, it was lost forever. 

“Nesta?” 

Cassian’s voice cut through her haze and she lifted her eyes to see his worried expression. He brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it softly. It grounded her, bringing her back to the present, but she didn’t react — couldn’t react — more than just blinking at him dazedly. 

Cassian took a deep breath. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and removed it in one smooth motion, his pants quickly following suit. Before Nesta could process what was happening, he climbed over the railing and plunged into the lake. 

Nesta could only cling to the railing, shocked silent for a new reason as she waited, praying to all the gods she barely believed in that his head would emerge from the water. 

She tried to dispel all the fears that swam around in her mind, taunting her about the dangers of the lake. The water plants that could ensnare even experienced swimmers’ feet and drown them, the animals that could bite and eat him, the sharp rocks that could injure him, the current that could pull him under — the possibilities were endless.

Cassian’s head emerged from the water and she felt her heart unclench, just for a second, until he disappeared once more. 

This jerked Nesta out of her stupor. 

“Cassian,” she called out. “Cass! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here! ” Her voice grew increasingly panicked as there was no response. 

“It’s dangerous, are you insane? Cassian? Cassian!”

Her shouts only stopped when Cassian surfaced. His broad shoulders and defined abs glistened in the sunlight as drops of water rolled down his chest. The bun his hair had been in had come upon, and now his dark, wavy-curly mane was streaming down his back. His brown skin was slick with water and drops clung to his long eyelashes. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing that he looked exactly how she’d imagined a merman to be. 

Her lips parted as he stepped out of the water. She forced her eyes away from his soaking wet underwear that clung to his body, defining every inch of it. Her gaze fixed on his chest instead. She knew she should be focusing on Cassian’s face or the necklace in his hand but he was so fucking distracting. Soaked Cassian was criminally delectable. 

“Nesta?” 

Cassian’s voice was worried, probably since Nesta still wasn’t speaking.

“Nes,” he whispered, gently tilting her head upwards with a finger under her chin. 

Their eyes met. Cassian’s concern was wiped off his face and was instantly replaced by a smirk.

“Lost your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased.

Though she had indeed lost the ability to speak, she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. No, she would play his game and beat him at it. 

She licked her lips slowly. She tilted her head back to expose the column of her throat while she swallowed sharply, knowing how it drove him crazy. Cassian made a low noise in the back of his throat, as though he was trying and failing to suppress a groan. Then, he put his arms on her shoulders, turning her around. 

“Lift up your hair,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers across her body. 

She did as he requested. He put the necklace back on her neck, patiently working the tiny clasp. His fingers brushed her neck, and even the cold silver of the necklace couldn’t cool the heat that spread within her. When the necklace was securely fastened, she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

She took a moment to look deep within his eyes. 

She would have to yell at him later for risking his life for a piece of jewelry, but nonetheless she appreciated what he had done. He was one of the only people who knew that she had a fear of deep water due to its association with Clare, and was also the only person who knew what putting this necklace back on meant for her. Yes, it was only a necklace, but he had also saved her from reopening the wounds of her complex relationship with her father and her past self. 

So she kissed him, knowing he would understand every conflicting thought and emotion that she pressed against his lips. And when his hand came up to support her neck, she knew that he was answering ‘I’m here for you, always.’

__________

Present day

“I knew you were objectifying me,” Cassian pouted mockingly.

Nesta nodded. “Oh, for sure. You’re nothing but a sexy hunk to me.” 

She leaned closer to him. “That’s why I said I love you first.” She tapped the picture in the top left corner. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

Nesta hummed as though she were seriously contemplating the issue. “How about… forever?” 

Cassian’s eyes sparkled and his mouth twisted around, as though he were trying to hold back a grin. 

“Urg, fine,” he said. His attempt to appear annoyed failed completely as he sounded more amused than anything else. “As long as you know I loved you first.”

It was Nesta’s turn to roll her eyes in mock annoyance, despite knowing that he was likely correct. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

__________

Three years ago

It was the final match of the Alfheim Ice Hockey Championships. If the Velaris Ghost Leopards managed to beat the Hybern Hydras, they would win the Fionn Cup for the first time in history. 

The game was extremely close, with both teams tied at 2-2, though not for lack of trying. The Hydras were playing atrociously dirty by anyone’s standards. They had already received numerous green and yellow cards, but it didn’t seem to deter them from continuing to foul the Ghost Leopards. 

Nesta cheered as Andras blocked Keir Hewn’s attack. Lucien swept in, stealing the puck from Keir, and passed it across the ice to Cassian. Cassian bluffed and wove his way through the Hydras’ defensemen. 

“C’mon, Cass, c’mon,” she chanted, her hands clasped together. 

Beron Falls raced to block Cassian, but Cassian passed the puck to Kallias just in time. Kallias dribbled the puck expertly. 

“Please, Kallias, make this shot,” Rhys implored from the seat behind Nesta’s. 

Kallias skated towards the goals, and lifted his stick to shoot. 

Then, the ice erupted in shouts, the umpire blowing the whistle continuously. 

“What just happened?” Gwyn asked but no one had an answer to give her. Nesta just sighed, dropping her face into her hands until she felt Elain tugging at her shoulder. Her eyes followed Elain’s pointed finger to see the jumbotron showing a replay. Andrew Amaranth, the Hydras’ left winger, had come up to Kallias from behind. He grabbed his stick and kicked the back of his calf with the blade of his skates, causing Kallias to fall. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Nesta shouted.

“He’s actually unhinged,” Azriel agreed. 

The umpire called for a yellow and a ten-minute time out.

“It should be a red card,” Gwyn hissed and Nesta loudly agreed. 

The game continued in such a fashion, with the Hydras playing as dirty as possible without getting red cards. 

The game was still tied with five minutes remaining in the third period. 

“We can’t go into overtime,” Azriel muttered to himself, “All our players are getting tired and they’re bound to actually get injured from these fouls.”

“Better overtime than a loss,” Rhys replied.

Nesta looked down at her hands. Her nails had been bitten down to the nub over the course of this game. 

Winning the Fionn Cup was a lifelong dream of Cassian’s. He had worked hard for this. He’d given his life to this sport for years, training every day for hours on end, no matter how tired he was. He studied strategy, honed his body, and worked with his team to figure out how to play into everyone’s individual strengths.

But it was more than that. 

In many ways, the sport had also saved Cassian. It had given him direction and a sense of purpose at a time when he’d felt lost. It had given him a team, when he’d only ever felt alone. It had provided him an alternative to the path he’d thought he was destined for — a path that led to nothing but more despair, where he would just get by, numbly passing through every day and surviving by the skin of his teeth. Ice hockey had opened up a whole new world for him and allowed him to dream of a different future for himself. It had given him hope, showing him a way out of the cycle of sadness that he’d imagined he would be trapped in forever. 

The world had once branded him as useless, as broken, as less than nothing. As he was tossed around from foster home to foster home, sleeping on the street among the trash, the word worthless sank deeper and deeper into his skin. 

Ice hockey was the hand that had reached out and pulled him to his feet, getting him off the ground, out of the shadows and the litter and the endless despair. It had dusted him off and pulled him into the light, where he could get warm and grow and sparkle as he was meant to. 

Now, Nesta wanted the world to acknowledge that Cassian was a champion. She wanted the world to know they’d been wrong to ever dismiss him as anything less than magnificent. She wanted him to win the Fionn Cup and stand proudly in the spotlight, knowing the world now looked up to him. More than anything, she wanted him to know that he was worthy, that he was precious, that he was important. 

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Azriel shouted. Nesta would have raised an eyebrow at him — the ever-brooding, silent and mysterious Azriel — shouting so enthusiastically, if she hadn’t been so caught up in the game.  

Kallias had stolen the puck from Dagdan Maeve and was racing towards the goal. Just as he crossed the center line, the Hydra’s defensemen, Beron and Nolan, closed in on him. Nesta watched as Kallias attempted to fake them out, then made a sharp turn to get away from them, all to no avail. Beron finally caught up to him and moved to steal the puck. With Nolan guarding Kallias’ other side, there was nowhere for him to move, no space for him to pass.

“Oh, I can’t watch,” Rhys hissed, wincing. 

Nesta pressed her lips together, hoping for a miracle, when suddenly the puck disappeared. Kallias had somehow managed to pass it through the narrow gap between Beron and Nolan’s sticks and had hit the puck with such strength that neither of them could move to stop it in time. Cassian received the pass and skated towards the goal. Beron, Nolan, and even some of the forwards moved to stop him, but Nesta knew they wouldn’t make it in time. Not when Cassian was speeding forward, moving like the wind as he skated across the ice. 

Nesta leaned forward in her seat as a feeling swelled up inside her. It was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, hope, fear, pride, and something else — something that made her feel like her heart was in her throat and made her pray that Cassian would score but know she would be there by his side no matter what happened. She had been feeling it for so long now, but had never voiced it — never put words to the feeling for fear that it would shatter the precious thing they’d built. But now Nesta knew it wasn’t something that could be so easily destroyed. No, it didn’t matter if Cassian won or lost, or even got injured. It didn’t matter if Cassian got traded to a team in a different city or Nesta had to switch ballet companies. No matter what, through the ups and the downs, they would be there for each other, helping to shoulder the emotional load. 

As Cassian's hockey stick hit the puck, Nesta wondered why she had been waiting so long when it was so clear what this feeling was. If she was being honest, she’d known it when Cassian dove into the water for her necklace, had known it when he’d brought her to Windhaven, had known it even the first time she’d sat in these seats, cheering Cassian on as he played. 

Cassian’s love was loud. It was in the romantic dates he planned, the surprises and gifts and hugs he showered her with, the weekends when he could sleep in but woke up anyway to make her pancakes. No, he hadn’t said the words either, but his protective arm around her during dinner with his friends and the vulnerable look in his eyes as he prepared a fusion meal that combined their cultural cuisines said all that was needed. 

Nesta’s love was quiet. It was in the fridge restocked with Cassian’s favorite foods, the ways she tended to his injuries after a match, and carefully planned meaningful gifts for his birthday. No, she hadn’t said the words, but she knew that he knew how she felt. 

But now, as the puck flew towards the goal, Nesta wanted to love just as boldly as Cassian. She wanted to show the world how lucky she was to be with him, but more importantly, she wanted Cassian to feel how much she cared about him. She wanted him to know that she was proud to be his. For him, she’d shout their love from the rooftops. She’d give him the whole universe if she could, because the world had been so unkind to him and yet he’d still managed to become the most incredible person in it. She could only offer him her heart, however, and hope that he would find it worthy of keeping. 

The puck grazed the goalie’s glove and Nesta held her breath. The goalie stretched out his fingers to grab it but it flew past him. 

“GOAL!” 

The entire stadium erupted into screams. Cheers of pure joy came from the Ghost Leopards’ side, louder than ever before. Nesta watched as Gwyn, Azriel, Elain, and Rhys jumped up and hugged each other.

Nesta could only stand up in silence, too consumed with her feelings to utter a single sound. For what sound could encapsulate this all-encompassing joy and pride? She looked down at the rink. Cassian’s teammates were all piled up around him in a massive group hug. And in the middle of it all, Cassian was there, beaming. His eyes lifted and met hers. She was grinning, wider than ever before in her life, and lifted her hands to make a heart. 

Cassian’s eyes turned huge. He took a deep breath. 

Perhaps he would have responded in kind, but he was obstructed from Nesta’s view as another teammate jumped to hug him and then the coach yelled at them that the game was restarting. Cassian shot Nesta one last, loaded glance before skating back to his position.

It was all a blur after that. The last few minutes of the match passed without any change.  Both teams’ offenses and defenses were equally matched, and the puck passed between them with no chances to score. When the buzzer rang out, everyone sprung to their feet. 

Nesta cheered, not giving a shit that her voice would be hoarse the next day with how loudly she was screaming. Azriel was jumping up and down like a child — she’d never seen him so overtly joyous. Rhys had tears of joy pouring down his cheeks. Gwyn and Elain were hugging. 

After the awards ceremony, all the interviews, and a rowdy celebration with the team, Cassian finally joined them. 

The second they caught sight of him, they rushed towards him. All five of them reached him at the same time and jumped on him, crushing him as they hugged him and showered him with compliments and congratulations.  

Cassian laughed boisterously. 

“I can’t believe it! I’m friends with a Fionn Cup Champion,” Gwyn gushed.

“Oh, so now we’re friends?” Cassian teased.

Gwyn answered with a playful shove that pushed Cassian back toward Azriel. Az wrapped his arms around Cassian, trapping him.

He pressed a kiss to the side of Cassian’s head as the latter squirmed. 

“Sorry Nes, I’m keeping him,” Azriel joked, tightening his grip as Cassian tried to shake him off. 

“Take him,” Nesta grinned. “He snores.” 

“I do not!” 

Cassian’s protest went ignored.

“Hmm,” Azriel pretended to muse. “But then I could have a real-life Fionn Cup Champion in my room. The price of the noise-canceling headphones will be worth it.”

Nesta shrugged. “I’d be surprised if he fit through your door, now that his ego is going to get even bigger.” 

“True, true. I’d hate for his massive head to break my roof.”

“Hello? I thought you’re supposed to be nice to Fionn Cup winners,” Cassian pouted.

Gwyn laughed. “Nice? Cassian, it’s like you don’t even know us.”

“I can be nice,” Rhys protested.

Everyone proceeded to burst out laughing.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m a demon just like the rest of you.” 

“That’s right,” Nesta grinned. “Accept your true nature and join our pit of darkness.”

Gwyn laughed evilly, “Mwahahaha!”

Nesta lifted her left hand, which Gwyn promptly high-fived. 

“Okay, anyway,” Elain interrupted, “Cassian, are you hungry? You must be tired after that amazing game.”

“Wow, thank you for being so considerate, Elain,” he said, extending her name pointedly. “I am actually pretty hungry and tired and sore after the game.” 

He turned his head to glare at Azriel, who was still holding him.

Az merely rolled his eyes. “Aw, poor baby. Does the little Fionn Cup Champion have a boo-boo?”

“Maybe he needs Nesta to kiss them better,” Gwyn suggested, not bothering to hide her smirk.

“Are you gonna tend to his wounds?”  Rhysand asked. “Nurse him to health?”

“I guess that depends on what it is that he’s hungry for,” Nesta replied with a wink.

They all burst out laughing a second later.

“Wow, you’re all so immature,” Cassian sniffed. “Elain is the only person fit for polite company.”

Rhysand glanced around. “What polite company?”

“Oh, no,” Azriel exclaimed. “We’re blaspheming! Now that Cassian’s won the Cup, we have to refer to him by his proper title: His Highness Sir Cassian of Illyrian.”

“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” Nesta added with a curtsey. “Please, forgive our disrespect.”

“Regency romance,” Gwyn fake-coughed into her elbow. 

“Of course, m’lady,” Cassian winked, “you’re forgiven. Although you may have to be punished for your transgressions.” 

Azriel pretended to gag. “Please, save the foreplay for the bedroom.”

“My poor, innocent ears,” Rhysand groaned. “I’ll never recover.”

Nesta turned to him. “Right, because you’ve never made out with my baby sister in public.” Then, she smirked. “Although, maybe you are innocent if that was too much for you. I mean, how vanilla are you?”

“Cassian,” Elain interrupted. “Do you want to go eat dinner at a restaurant or something?”

“That sounds amazing! How about the Greek place on 10th Avenue?” Cassian replied.

“Oh fine,” Rhys rolled his eyes playfully, “We’ll get food.” 

“I am actually really hungry, too,” Gwyn agreed.

“Well, if Gwyn is hungry, then we gotta go eat now!” Nesta declared.

Azriel nodded, his expression serious.

Cassian sighed. 

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Cassian called out as he walked towards his car with Nesta, “Or not. It’s also fine if you get lost on the way.” 

Azriel responded by raising a choice finger. 

The mirth was still in the air as Nesta closed the car door on the passenger’s side. 

“I can drive if you want,” she joked as Cassian slammed his door shut. Nesta was a notoriously reckless driver. She hated driving unless she had to, and Cassian loved driving, so it usually worked out perfectly. 

He laughed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to live.” 

The car got quiet as the laughter faded. It filled instead with an intimate intensity.

Cassian turned slightly to buckle his seatbelt. 

Nesta reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. Cassian inhaled sharply and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her thumb caressed his cheek. 

“Cassian,” she whispered. She knew the look in her eyes said it all already, but it had said it for so long and she’d never once let her tongue speak it. But Cassian — brilliant, beautiful, splendid Cassian who had been hurt far too much by the world — deserved to hear them aloud. It scared her for too many reasons to count, but if ever there was anyone worth confronting that fear for, it was this man who sat next to her in all his marvelous glory. 

His eyes were open — vulnerable, in a way he always was with her. Sometimes she wondered whether she deserved to be allowed to handle his precious heart that too many had tried to shatter. What if she dropped it or dented it with her harshness? But he entrusted her with it anyway. 

She took a deep breath. Then, she let it out, alongside the words she’d been holding in for so long.

“I love you.”

Cassian’s eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to reply, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Not a single word escaped despite his attempts, but Nesta understood and just smiled, her eyes shining with joy. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to respond.”

Cassian looked frustrated at himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But I- I do. I-” He screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. 

Nesta knew that those three words were not ones Cassian had heard very much in his life. Shirina had likely been the first to say those words to him in his memory, and that hadn’t been til his teen years. Cassian’s mother had most likely loved him, but Cassian’s memories of her were sparse. 

Enalius certainly loved Cassian, but Nesta was just as certain that he would not say it out aloud. Enalius showed his love through his coaching, his cheering, and the letters he’d send from all over the world. 

Ayla, Rhysand, and Azriel also loved Cassian and weren’t shy about it these days, although none of them were particularly vocal about it either. They preferred to show it through gifts and hugs and jokes and advice. When they had met, however, they had all been preteens who wouldn’t have been caught dead saying the words ‘I love you’.

Cassian had certainly had flings and girlfriends in the past. Nesta didn’t know the details of all of his past relationships, but she could easily guess that those words had seldom or, more likely, never been exchanged.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say anything right now.” 

And then, just because she could — because she now had the freedom to say it without being caged by fear — she added, “I love you, Cassian.” 

Cassian answered with a kiss that said, ‘I love you more than words can ever express.’

__________

Present day

“I was such a mess,” Cassian recalled fondly. “Rhys and Az laughed at me for bawling so much.” 

“I remember Gwyn saying that she could take the trophy if it was making you so sad,” Nesta added. 

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it,” he laughed. Then, he added, “I love you.” 

“Are you talking to me or the trophy?” 

“Oh, the trophy, for sure.”

“Oh, good, just wanted to make sure.”

They grinned at each other.

“You have no idea how I felt when I saw you make that heart that day,” he said. “I mean, I was already elated because of the goal I’d just scored, but that couldn’t even compare to how I felt when I looked up at you. I think my heart literally skipped a beat.” 

“Better visit a cardiologist then,” Nesta answered lightly.

Cassian flicked her nose. She shrieked loudly in return.

“You know what you sound like?” Cassian tapped a photo in the middle, which was surrounded by doodles of musical notes.

Nesta mock-gasped. “Excuse you, I wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re right, you were worse.”

__________

Three years ago

“What’s that?” 

Nesta pointed towards a large, lumpy black bag resting against Cassian’s bedroom wall. 

“Oh, sorry, I was practicing earlier and forgot to put it away.” Cassian moved the bag to his closet. “It’s my guitar.”

Nesta placed her hand on Cassian’s wrist before he could shut the closet. 

“You play guitar?” 

“Yeah, it’s something I picked up when living with Shirina. I’m not a pro or anything, but it’s a fun hobby, you know.” 

“Wow, would you… could you play something for me?”  

Cassian seemed surprised but nodded, pulling the guitar back out of the closet. 

He sat down on the floor, his back resting against the bed. “What do you want me to play?”

Nesta sat down beside him. “Anything you want. Just play me something you enjoy playing.”

Cassian absently strummed the guitar a few times, deep in thought.

“Alright, sweetheart. Here we go. This song is called la rosa del principe.” Cassian closed his eyes and started playing. 

Nesta watched him with bright eyes, mesmerized. 

After a while, he started singing. His deep voice complemented the melody he was strumming. His singing was nice, but it was the passion in his voice that warmed Nesta’s insides. 

“Wow,” Nesta whispered when the song ended. 

Cassian chuckled. “Shirina loved that song. She’s the one that signed me up for some guitar lessons, you know. She taught me the lyrics to la rosa del principe when I told her I didn’t know them. She was always humming the melody when she was cooking or doing chores or whatever. I think it was a song her mom liked, so it reminded her of her childhood.”

“Does it remind you of your childhood?”

Cassian took a moment to contemplate his answer. “It reminds me of Shirina, and how kindly and lovingly she treated me. That wasn’t really a common theme in my childhood, you know, but I suppose you could say it reminds me of some of the best parts of my childhood.”

Nesta nudged his shoulder with hers comfortingly. He gently pushed back against her in a silent gesture of gratitude. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. 

Then, Nesta pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Could you teach me?” 

Cassian swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“The lyrics are kind of complicated, since it’s not in English, but I can just teach you the chorus for now if you want.”

“Sure,” she smiled.

Cassian spoke the lyrics slowly. Nesta tried to repeat after him, though she didn’t do the best job judging by Cassian’s chuckles. 

“Close. It’s tramonto, not tremare,” he corrected. 

“What do the lyrics mean?” Nesta asked. 

“The song is a love letter to a rose. It’s a metaphor for loving something so delicate and impermanent,” he explained. “The song is from the point of view of this guy who is so powerful — he’s a prince, he can travel across galaxies, he can do whatever he wants — but he feels so powerless because he knows he can’t control what happens to this rose that he loves. And even though he’s rich and powerful, he gets lonely a lot and his rose is his only companion so he dreads the thought of leaving it or having it disappear.”

“That sounds kind of tragic.”

“I guess so, but it’s not sad per se. It’s more like a reminder of the importance of love rather than materialistic things, and not taking your loved ones for granted.” 

He kissed her cheek. 

Nesta smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

Cassian hummed in agreement. “It’s such a Shirina song. She loved songs with morals like that, that remind you to appreciate what you have. She was so down-to-Earth, even though her husband was one of the richest, most powerful people around here. It’s…” He trailed off with a sigh. 

“I’m glad you met her,” Nesta said quietly after a moment. “She sounds like a great person and I’m so happy you had her in your life.”

“Yeah, me too.” He took a deep breath. “I wish you could’ve met her. I think… I think she would have loved you.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Then, Cassian grinned mischievously. 

“Cas! What the fu-” yelped Nesta as he lifted her up. 

He placed her between his legs with a huff of laughter. She leaned back into him, her back pressing against his front. 

Cassian placed the guitar in her lap. 

“Alright, it’s time for you to learn how to play this magnificent instrument,” he declared. 

“Okay, but I’m just warning you, I don’t really have experience playing instruments.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m just here to help you learn some basics. Besides, you’re a dancer so you have some experience with rhymes and stuff. How bad could you be?”

Holding her hands in his, he demonstrated how to hold the guitar and how to strum a basic chord. 

“You got it!” Cassian cheered as Nesta played a C chord that didn’t sound half bad. 

“Ok, so then,” Cassian moved their hands to a different position. “Use your pointer finger to hold down this string. Good! Your middle finger holds this one and your ring finger holds this one.” 

He continued his explanation of different chords and strumming patterns. 

“So, basically, you just hold down different strings and strum up and down for different notes, right?” Nesta asked as he finished.

Cassian chuckled. “Basically, yeah.”

“Alright.” Nesta wiggled her hands free from Cassian’s grasp and took a dramatic deep breath. “It’s time. I’m going to play.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to play? I haven’t taught you how to play la rosa del principe yet.”

She shrugged. “I’m just going to let my imagination and inspiration guide me.” 

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s going to turn out-”

A jumbled chord cut him off. 

“Um-” 

What followed next was the most chaotic, screechy minute of guitar playing Cassian had ever heard. The torture likely would have continued for longer, since he didn’t have the heart to stop Nesta, if they hadn’t been interrupted by the Cassian’s bedroom door slamming open.

Azriel yelled, “Cassian! I think a cat is dying in your ro- oh, hey Nesta.”

“Hey Az!” she replied, beaming at Cassian’s roommate until she registered his words. “Wait, what? You think I sound like a dying cat?” 

Azriel took a step back, prepared to run away, as Nesta stood up and placed the guitar in Cassian’s lap. 

“Well, you know, uh, it’s good to practice and all, but we don’t want noise complaints from our neighbors, or allegations of animal abuse so…” Az smirked.

“Wha- animal- Get back here you little-” Nesta sprinted down the hallway, chasing after a cackling Azriel. 

Cassian was still sitting there, laughing, when the two of them ran back into the room. 

“Save me, Cass!” Azriel pleaded as he tried to hide behind his friend. 

Nesta smirked. “You really think you can use my boyfriend against me like this?”

“He was my friend first!” Azriel gripped his sleeve.

Nesta rolled her eyes. 

“Please Cassian,” she said in an airy voice. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently tugged on his sleeve. 

He followed her lead without even thinking, until Azriel muttered, “Traitor.”

“Hey, wait-” Cassian interjected, coming to his senses.

Nesta stuck her tongue out at Az. “He loves me.” 

Whatever Cassian could have said on Azriel’s behalf dissipated when her eyes softened as they met his. 

Even Azriel’s over-the-top gagging noises couldn’t ruin the moment as Nesta smiled at him and murmured, “Can you teach me how to play la rosa del principe later?” 

“We’ll see,” Cassian replied with a smile, knowing full well that he’d cave into her demands, no matter the cost to his ears.

__________

Present day

“I love that you wanted to learn how to play guitar for me.” Cassian’s eyes were warm and full of mirth. “Even if playing music isn’t exactly your strong suit.” 

Nesta placed a hand over her heart. “How dare you suggest such a thing.” 

Her stern demeanor gave way to playfulness as she winked, “I guess you’ll just have to sing and play music for me while I dance.”

“Exactly. You see, Nes, we complement each other perfectly.”

“A match made in heaven,” she agreed with a laugh. 

“Honestly, though, it meant a lot to me that you wanted to hear me play,” Cassian said when they stopped laughing, “and that you wanted to learn.”

“It meant a lot to me that you were willing to share such a personal song with me,” Nesta answered, “and that you were willing to be so open with me without prompting. It was like a sign, you know, that our relationship was actually real and meaningful to you, too. Of course I already knew that but, like, I guess it just hit home right then.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. In that moment, I also felt how easy it was to be open and talk about anything and everything with you.”

“You see?” Nesta winked, gesturing between them. “We’re made for each other.”

She glanced down at the pictures between them. 

“At least I don’t need to put up with Az insulting my musical talents anymore, now that you don’t live together.”

“Talents?” Cassian coughed. 

Nesta shot him a warning glare before continuing, “I’m so glad I don’t need to hear him complaining or interrupting us anymore. That was the real reason I asked you to live with me, you know — so I wouldn’t have to hear his whining.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he replied. He leaned closer to her. “It was all part of my plan, Sweetheart.”

__________

Two years ago

“Don’t mind me, I just need to get to the kettle.”

Nesta and Cassian sprung apart at Azriel’s words. 

Azriel, with a bored expression, walked past the couple into the kitchen and filled water in the kettle. 

Cassian hastily redid his fly, clearing his throat a few times. Nesta, blushing furiously, scrambled to hook her bra and do up the buttons on her shirt. 

Azriel turned back around, leaning back against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. He reached into his back pocket for his phone, but noticed Nesta’s expression and rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Nesta, chill. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he growled. 

Azriel shook his head in exasperation. “How many times have I walked in on you two making out — hell, how many times have I walked in on you two fucking in common spaces? At this point, I’m immune to all this.” He waved his hand at Nesta’s half-open shirt and Cassian’s bare chest. 

Cassian slipped his shirt over his head. 

“Really?” Nesta asked, arching a perfectly angled eyebrow and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Cassian elbowed her and she giggled, buttoning up the rest of her shirt. 

“Az-” Cassian began, annoyance coloring his tone.

“No,” Azriel interrupted firmly. “If you don’t want me to walk in or interrupt you or whatever, go do whatever you want in your room. I’ve never once complained about the noise, even when I have to put up with your loud-ass moans and screams. But I have the right to make tea in my own house if I want to.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes. His stance changed unconsciously, gearing up for a fight. He opened his mouth to deliver a biting retort. 

“You’re right, Az,” Nesta interjected before the situation could escalate any further. “We’re sorry.”

Azriel was silent, his eyes fixed on Cassian. The latter let Nesta pull him towards his bedroom. 

About a week later, Cassian and Nesta were once again interrupted. This time, Azriel crunched loudly on his popcorn as he walked into the living room.

Cassian sent him a questioning glare as Nesta scrambled to cover herself.

“What?” Azriel replied, unfazed. “I was gonna watch TV, but, well, it seems like there’s a show right here.”

“Look-”

“C’mon, Cass.” Nesta sprung up from the couch, dressed in Cassian’s shirt, and took her boyfriend’s hand. “I needed to talk to you about something, anyway.” She winked at him and whispered, “I got a little side-tracked and forgot.”

Cassian shot Az a dirty look as he exited the room. 

“Did you actually need to talk about something,” Cassian asked with a smile as he sat down on his bed and placed Nesta on his lap, “or did you just want to distract me?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. 

Nesta laughed lightly. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always lie to manipulate you.” 

He widened his eyes in false disbelief. “Really?”

She shook her head with a grin. “Why would I when I can manipulate you just as well with the truth?”

“Ooh, you saucy witch,” Cassian joked.  

They both laughed.

Nesta pressed a hand to Cassian’s cheek to stop him as he leaned in to kiss her.

“I do actually want to talk about something.”

He leaned back and cocked his head. “What’s up?”

The twinkle in Nesta’s eyes dimmed.

“It’s my apartment.” She swallowed. “My landlord is raising the rent.” 

“Again?” he replied, alarmed. It had only been four months since the last time her rent had increased.

She nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not… I mean, it would be ridiculous for me to stay there, even if I managed to afford it. It’s definitely not worth the new rent.”

“So you want to move?” 

“Yeah.” 

Cassian seemed confused by her nervous tone. “Alright, well, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll help you with all your stuff, and I know a guy with a moving truck. It’ll all be okay. We’ll find you a way better place to live.” 

He gave her an encouraging squeeze and smile that she didn’t return.

“Uh, well, um. Actually, I was wondering if…” Nesta rolled her lips.

Cassian frowned, concerned by Nesta’s hesitant tone.

“Could I- I mean, I already spend so much time at your place,” she continued, “and I stay here a lot and we- um. Since I have to get a new place…”

“Of course you can stay here while you look for a new place!” Cassian replied.

“Oh!” Nesta sounded surprised. “No, I- I mean, thank you. But, uh, that’s not really what I was gonna…” She shook her head, annoyed at her own incoherence. “That’s really sweet of you, Cass.”

Cassian gave her a long look, trying to decipher her thoughts. “Are you trying to find a place on this block? I can try to get the inside scoop if that’s what you were asking.”

“No, no, that’s not what I-” She took a deep breath and then looked into Cassian's eyes. “Would you want to live with me?”

Cassian blinked. “Oh! Oh, I-” He started to grin. Then, he blinked again, and his face fell. “Oh, uh, I…”

“It’s totally fine if not!” Nesta quickly backtracked. “I know you already signed this lease and stuff, and I can definitely just move-”

“No, it’s- I-” It was Cassian’s turn to take a deep breath. “Nesta, I would love to live with you and I’m honored that you asked me and I’m- I’m so, so happy that you want to live with me. But, well, I just don’t know if it will work out, considering.” He shot a glance towards the door. 

Nesta got up from Cassian’s lap. “Oh.” She looked away from him as she gathered her clothes off the floor, trying to disguise her hurt. “Um, okay. Yeah. I get it.” Her thoughts spiraled as she changed out of Cassian’s shirt.

“Nes! Nesta, I…” Cassian seemed to be at a loss for words. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied half-heartedly after a beat. 

“Nes, I just…” he sounded frustrated. “You know how things have been lately, with Az. As much as I… I don’t think it’s realistic to think that he’d be okay with it, and of course I’d talk to him beforehand but, like, it is his place too and…”

She gave a noncommittal hum in reply.

The room was drenched in tense silence.

“Can you just be honest?” Nesta said finally, puncturing the tension. “If you don’t want to move in with me, just say it. I understand you’re renting this place with Az, but he isn’t unreasonable. We both know that if you talked about it, he’d be cool with it. Maybe he’d ask you to wait for a bit, until the end of this lease or whatever, but he wouldn’t stop you. So just tell me why you don’t want to live with me, because I- I thought we were… that this was…”

“I am being honest,” Cassian frowned. 

She gave an irritated sigh. 

“No, really, I am,” he insisted. “You were there with me in the living room, weren’t you? Didn’t you see how pissed he was? I guess maybe it wasn’t- Az isn’t the type to yell or anything. That quiet, passive-aggressive type shit is how he expresses his annoyance.”

“So?” Nesta bit back. “If anything, I would have thought he’d be glad if we weren’t here as often.”

“Exactly! I don’t think we should spend more time here.”

Nesta paused. “What?”

“I know you and Az do get along,” he said, “but I really don’t think he’d be fine with you moving in here.”

“Here? Wait, you thought- Oh. Oh!” Nesta brightened visibly.

“What?” Cassian seemed bewildered by her sudden change in mood. 

“Cassian, I wasn’t asking to move in here,” she laughed. “I was asking you to move in with me at a new place we’ll find together.”

Cassian’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’d love that! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I thought- but- yes!”

Nesta grinned. “I should’ve been clearer, sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s on me.” His face slowly spread into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to work on communicating better if we’re gonna live together, huh?”

“I guess so,” she beamed.

Nesta embraced Cassian tightly. 

“We’re living together!” she whispered excitedly.

He hugged her back. “Yes, we are,” he replied just as thrilled.

__________

Present day

“I can’t believe we were so stupid,” Nesta laughed.

“I know right?” Cassian looked down at the photo once more. “No, but seriously, I was so elated when we moved into this place.”

Nesta smiled fondly. “Yeah, me too. I smiled for, like, 48 hours straight, even though we had to carry all those boxes and,” she paused dramatically, “unpack.” She shuddered. 

“Ah, yes, unpacking — the harshest of struggles.”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind unpacking, but well,” Cassian ran a hand through his hair suavely, “some people are just built different.”

Nesta flipped him off playfully.

“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be jealous,” he replied consolingly, “I have my own weaknesses. Like, I hate packing.”

She huffed. “Cass-”

“What? Oh, c’mon, what’s the point of my trauma if I can’t joke about it?” 

She shook her head with a chuckle. “So you’re saying that all that trauma was just character development so you could increase your humor stats?”

Cassian pointed finger guns at her. “Cha-ching! Now you get it.” 

Nesta laughed. 

She looked around, still awed by the beautiful display Cassian had set up for her. She picked up a rose petal and admired its color and scent. As she fiddled with it, she was suddenly struck by a thought. 

“Where are Ara and Lina?” 

“They’re with Em,” Cassian said reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean all this stuff up before they get back.”

“Oh, they love being at Emerie’s place. They get along so well with Siph, it’s crazy.” Nesta paused, struck by another thought. “Wait, but why did you ask her to watch them? I mean, why did you organize this whole-”

“Remember when we got them?” Cassian interrupted, pointing to another polaroid. “They used to be so tiny! It’s crazy how much they’ve grown.”

Nesta cocked her head, confused by Cassian ignoring her question. Before she could continue her line of questioning, however, her eyes landed on the photo he was indicating and she got sidetracked. 

“Oh my gosh, yeah,” she breathed as she reminisced. “I can’t believe we thought we were going to walk into the shelter without adopting a pet.”

“I can’t believe we told the landlord that we didn’t care about the pet policy because we were never going to get one,” he answered. 

“We’re so lucky we accidentally got an apartment that allows pets,” she agreed. 

“I’ll never forget the look on Cresseida’s face when we told her,” Cassian added. 

She replied, “She made sure we’d never forget. She was saying ‘I told you so’ for months.”

__________

One year ago

 “We’ll stop by for a bit, but we’re not adopting any pets,” Nesta repeated for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“Okay,” Cresseida answered with a knowing smirk, “but it’s also okay if you change your mind.”

Cresseida, Emerie’s girlfriend, ran a pet shelter with her best friend, Nuala. She had invited all of Emerie’s friends to stop by anytime, saying that she and the animals enjoyed having company. 

Nesta and Cassian had resisted at first, since they weren’t looking for pets and, in Nesta’s words, “weren’t the pet type”. Neither of them had ever owned a pet before. While they respected people who loved their pets, they also enjoyed making fun of those who dressed up in matching outfits with their pets for Halloween and talked about their pets as though they were their children. Also, while Nesta didn’t dislike animals per se, she also didn’t like them enough to feel any desire to live with one 24/7, let alone take care of one. Cassian liked animals well enough but he’d had some bad experiences with stray dogs when he was a kid. When they visited friends who owned big dogs who would greet visitors by pouncing on them or barking excitedly, Cassian would always plaster a fake smile on his face, but she’d feel him flinch.  

However, when Emerie used her puppy-dog eyes and pleaded with Nesta to just go once to support her girlfriend’s work, she’d caved and agreed to visit. Cassian and Gwyn — both of whom had yet to visit the shelter — came along with her, saying they should all just get it over with together. 

“This side of the shelter has dogs,” Cresseida said as they walked in, “and this side has cats. There are also some other animals in the back section. Feel free to walk around and ask me if you have any questions. Right now, most of the animals are in their individual kennels and the kennel doors are locked but let me know if you want to play with any of them.” 

“Alright, thanks,” Nesta replied.

She and Cassian shared a look. Both of them wanted to humor Cresseida, who was a great person and also the best girlfriend Emerie had (at least in Nesta’s opinion), but they both knew they wouldn’t be interested in any animals. They would just wander around the shelter until an appropriate amount of time had passed and they could politely leave. 

“Ooh, a kitten!” Gwyn exclaimed, grabbing Nesta’s hand and pulling her into the cat section.

Meanwhile, Cassian followed Cresseida into a different area.

 “Oh my gosh, this baby is only 12 weeks old,” Gwyn cooed at the striped tabby cat. “Isn’t she adorable?”

“She is cute,” Nesta admitted, but Gwyn had already moved on.

“Wow, this cat has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen! Oh, and look at this one! Do you see the face he’s making?”

Nesta laughed and followed her friend, nodding along to Gwyn’s excited commentary. 

Finally, Gwyn came to a halt with a gasp. She kneeled down wordlessly in front of an orange kitten, who blinked back at her sleepily. Nesta kneeled down next to Gwyn. She looked at the kennel in front of her. A jet-black cat was at the other corner of the kennel, hissing and growling at the young boy who was trying to attract its attention. His mother pulled him away just as the cat attempted to scratch the child through the glass. 

“Crazy feral cat,” Nesta heard the mother grumble under her breath as they walked away. 

Nesta raised an eyebrow at the cat, who regarded her with an equally judgemental expression. Nesta took a step closer to the glass. The cat did the same. 

She tuned out Gwyn mumbling something. Instead, she turned her focus to the tag on the kennel.

“Oh, wow, you still don’t have a name even though you’re eight months old, huh,” Nesta said. She had always thought it was a bit silly how pet owners talked to animals as though they could really answer, but now she found it to be the most natural thing in the world. Especially when the cat meowed in response.

Nesta cocked her head. The cat studied her for a few seconds. It stared intensely with its yellow eyes. Then, it tilted its head, copying her. 

She couldn’t help but melt. How was it possible that such a sweet cat had yet to find a home?

“Nesta! There you are!” 

Nesta jolted as Cresseida’s voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“I see you found little Miss Onyx over here,” Cresseida smiled. “I’ve never seen her be so friendly with any customers before.”

“Is her name Onyx, then?”

“Oh, no. We have tried to name her before, but she seems to hate every name we’ve tried, so we kind of gave up,” Cresseida explained. “We couldn’t keep calling her ‘the unnamed black cat’, though, so now we just refer to her by black object names.” Cresseida turned towards the cat. “Isn’t that right, Blackberry?” 

The cat hissed and retreated to the corner of her kennel closest to Nesta. 

Cresseida laughed. “See?” Then, she sent Nesta a knowing glance. “She seems to adore you.”

Nesta glanced back at the cat, who was now sitting with a paw on the glass.

“She is very cute,” she admitted. 

“She is,” Cresseida agreed. “Sadly, she’s fierce enough that she scares away most customers.”

“It’s like she’s made for Nesta!” Gwyn piped up. “I mean, look at her spunky attitude, her fierceness, her witchy vibes — since, you know, she’s a black cat.”

“I don’t have witchy vibes,” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn ignored her. “Not to mention, she’s right next to Mer,” she pointed to the orange cat, “who is my soulmate cat so our cats are destined to be best friends, just like us!”

“Wow, I didn’t- I haven’t said I’m adopting her yet,” Nesta protested.

“Yet,” Gwyn repeated, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

Cresseida laughed. “Well, let me know if you are seriously interested in adopting Miss Obsidian. There’s a few things you would need to keep in mind for her that we should talk about.”

Nesta nodded.

“What about Mer?” Gwyn asked. “Any special care she needs that I should know about?”

“Not really. We did have her on a special diet for a bit because she was slightly malnourished when we found her but she’s at a healthy weight now.”

Nesta walked away as Gwyn and Cresseida continued their animated discussion. How was she going to convince Cassian to adopt a cat? Actually, Nesta knew that wouldn’t be an issue — Cassian would surely jump at any opportunity to make her happy. The real question was how she was going to put aside her pride and admit that she wanted to adopt the cat. She would also have to see if Cassian wanted to adopt the cat, too, and not just for her sake. It would be unfair to both Cassian and the cat to bring her into a home where only one person truly loved her. Not that Cassian wouldn’t be kind to the cat, regardless — it was just that Nesta wanted Cassian to adopt the cat because it made him happy, instead of doing it for Nesta’s sake. 

Nesta was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she walked right into someone. 

“Excuse me,” Nesta apologized. The man turned around.

“You’re excused, Nes,” Cassian replied with a wink. 

“Oh, fuck you,” she groaned, holding back a smile. 

“I know I’m hot, but you’re gonna have to wait til we get home.” 

She replied with a soft punch to his shoulder. Cassian fell to the floor dramatically. 

A bark sounded from the kennel right in front of Cassian. Nesta quickly examined Cassian for any signs of fear, but he wasn’t flinching. Instead, he tugged gently on her arm. 

“Nes,” he said with a grin as she sat down beside him, “Let me introduce you to my new friend, Lina.” 

Nesta turned to find a large golden retriever wagging her tail energetically. She was beautiful and friendly, but she also definitely weighed more than twenty kilograms and had a full set of sharp teeth. In short, she was exactly the type of dog that Cassian would usually be uncomfortable around. 

Yet, here he was, saying, “Look, I know we agreed that we were just looking around and we weren’t going to adopt any pets but look at her! Her cute paws, that gorgeous fur, and those eyes! And she’s so happy to see me! Doesn’t it just make you want to keep her forever?”

His expression said it all: he’d fallen completely in love with this dog. 

“Cassian…” 

His expression dropped. “I know taking care of a pet is a lot of work. If we did adopt her, I would walk her and figure out her food and vet stuff, but she would be living with both of us, so I would never want to adopt her if you weren’t completely on board. And having a pet would affect our lifestyle and our day-to-day lives a lot, so I understand if you’d rather not adopt her.”

“Do you want to adopt her?” Nesta blurted out. 

Cassian looked confused. 

“I mean, she’s obviously a beautiful and friendly dog, but she’s in a kennel right now,” Nesta explained. “If we adopt her, she could jump on you or bite you or scratch you. Won’t you be on edge having a dog in our apartment all the time, even if you’re tired or having a rough day?” 

“All the other dogs I’ve met make me nervous, either when they bark or pant or just by being close to me. They remind me of rough times in my childhood, when I was scared and in danger. But for some reason, Lina is different. I don’t get any of that fear or anxiety around her. In fact, it’s the opposite. She makes me feel relaxed and happy. I think she actually makes me feel safe.” Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Weird, huh?”

Nesta smiled. “I’m glad you found her. I still want you to take her for a walk before we sign anything if we’re going to adopt her.”

“Wait, but- We don’t need to adopt her just because I want to. If you don’t want a pet, you shouldn’t agree just for my sake,” he added hurriedly. Still, Nesta could see the corners of his mouth tilting up. 

“Yes, I want to adopt her! And,” Nesta continued, seeing Cassian opening his mouth to argue, “do you really think that I would ever agree to something I didn’t want to do, just for someone else’s sake?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you’re a big softie,” Cassian teased. 

She laughed. “Well, trust me, I do want to adopt a pet.”

“Of course she wants to!” Gwyn interjected, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “You should have seen her with that cat. It was like she’d found her twin flame! No offense, Cassian.”

“Wait, what cat?” he replied, befuddled. 

Nesta attempted to wave him off. “It’s nothing-”

“It’s not nothing!” Gwyn interrupted animatedly. “It’s her cat soulmate! A little ball of anger and adorable-ness, just like our little Nesta here.”

Nesta sent her friend a flat look. “Thanks a lot for that description.”

Gwyn just shrugged. “What? You know I’m right.” 

“Where can I find this cat?” Cassian asked. 

Gwyn pointed him in the right direction, telling him about all the ways in which the cat represented Nesta while pointedly ignoring Nesta’s calls of “No, it’s fine” and “You don’t need to go look at the cat” and “I don’t have spooky evil vibes!”. 

“Aww, look at her,” Cassian smiled as he crouched in front of the black cat’s kennel. 

The cat hissed in return.  

“You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Good girl!” cooed Cassian. 

The cat abruptly stopped hissing. She stared at him unblinkingly before purring quietly.

Gwyn erupted with laughter. “Wow, she really is just like Nesta, huh? Everything down to the praise ki-”

Her words were cut off as Nesta covered Gwyn’s mouth with her hand. 

“What the fuck, Gwyn! She’s a cat! That’s disgusting,” Nesta hissed in her ear. 

Gwyn licked Nesta’s palm, and used the moment Nesta recoiled as a distraction to pull her hand off. 

“I just tell it how I see it,” Gwyn declared. “And I have never once been disgusting.”

“Oh really?” Nesta replied, bringing the hand Gwyn had licked close to Gwyn’s face. 

Gwyn screeched and ran down to hide behind Cassian.

Cassian remained focused on the cat. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart. What’s your name, baby?”

“She doesn’t have a name yet,” Nesta supplied, before bringing her licked hand around Cassian to reach for Gwyn. The redhead let out another shriek and ran. 

Nesta could see the moment Cassian melted. His posture seemed to go soft as his expression turned even more tender. 

“You don’t have a name yet, huh?” he murmured. “I guess you need a family to give you a name and a home and some love.”

She placed her non-licked hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to ask to know that he was thinking of his own childhood — when he’d needed a home and a family, too. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, “me and your mom are going to give you so much love.”

“Cass, are you sure?” she questioned gently. She ignored how it made her feel to hear him refer to her as ‘mom’. There was too much to unpack there, and she would save it for later, after they’d finished making important decisions. 

“Look at her, Nes,” he replied. “It’s like she was made for us.”

Nesta knew it was more than just about the resemblances between her and the cat that Gwyn had pointed out. It was about how this cat hissed and growled at strangers, putting her guard up, but really was just a sweet kitten who needed some love. Both of them could relate to putting on a tough face to hide how vulnerable and hurt they really were. She knew Cassian was thinking that this cat would be a perfect addition to their lives.

“But what about Lina?” Nesta insisted. 

“You love this cat. Don’t try to deny it, I can tell.”

“That’s not an answer.” 

“I think,” Cassian said carefully, “we both love this cat and we should adopt her.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “And what are we doing about the fact that we both love Lina?” 

This wasn’t just about the animals, and they both knew that. 

It wasn’t that Nesta didn’t think Cassian wanted to adopt the cat — she knew he really, truly did. But she also knew that he wanted to adopt Lina. She wouldn’t let him give up on his wishes and always put her needs above his. While she appreciated the sentiment, she also knew he had a tendency to discount his own desires. She needed him to know that what he wanted mattered just as much.

Cassian let out a big breath like a deflating mattress, the fight going out of him. 

“I love Lina, I do. And I know it’s so special that I feel so safe around her — around a big dog with sharp teeth. But Nes,” his voice took on a different tone, “at the end of the day, she’s a friendly golden retriever. I’m sure a million families with white picket fences are lining up to adopt her. And this cat… I mean, she doesn’t even have a name.” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“I know we could love either of them, and they’d be incredible. But at least with Lina, I know she’ll find someone else to take care of her. I don’t know if this cat will find that, and she’s too…” Cassian paused to search for a word. His nose scrunched in frustration as his vocabulary failed him. “She’s too precious for me to take that chance.” 

He needed his kitten to find a home. He couldn’t risk her never finding a family — not when he had so much love he could give her. 

Nesta contemplated silently. 

“Okay,” she finally said, her eyes piercing through him as though she intended to read his heart. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do, we’ll get this cat.”

Cassian smiled. “Look at us, being real adults. Can you believe we’re going to be parenting this cutie?”

“Parenting,” repeated Nesta with a snort. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like we’re having a baby or something. People are going to think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Gwyn exclaimed, reappearing next to Nesta from wherever she’d run off to. She had clearly only caught the tail end of Nesta’s sentence. 

“Wow, I’m so excited to be an aunt! Do you know the sex yet? Wait, how far along do you need to be to know that? How many months are you, by the way?” Gwyn spoke too rapidly for anyone to get a word in. “I had no idea about this! How have you been hiding the morning sickness? Or does everyone know about this already? Oh, gosh, this is so exciting!” 

Nesta stayed silent, trying to hold in her smile. Cassian just looked bewildered. 

Gwyn gave Nesta a light hug. “Oh, wow, this is crazy! Am I the first one to know? Wait, is it ok if I tell people? You can tell me if it’s still a secret, don’t worry.” 

Cassian blinked. “No, that’s-”

“Oh, perfect!” Gwyn squealed. She reached over to hug Cassian, too. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Emerie! Oh my god, and Az! His reaction is going to be insane!” 

She practically skipped down the hallway, her fingers already tapping away on her phone.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at Nesta. “What just happened?”

Nesta finally let out a laugh. “Just Gwyn being Gwyn, I suppose.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I’m actually curious to see how far this goes.” She leaned forward, pressing her side against him. “Do you think they’ll throw me a surprise baby shower?”

“Rhys is going to be so pissed I’m having a baby before him,” Cassian grinned. “It’ll be hilarious.”

“We could tell them we’re having a daughter,” Nesta added, jerking her head towards the kitten.

Cassian laughed. He stood up and stretched out his body, likely feeling a slight ache because he’d been crouching for several minutes. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This is why I love you, you mastermind.”

His lips brought with them a wave of warmth that spread through her veins.

“Time to go tell Cresseida that we are going to adopt a pet after all,” Nesta chirped. 

Cassian groaned. “How about you go tell her, since you’re the one who was looking at this cat first,” he suggested.

“But you made the final decision,” she countered. 

“Well, no, I,” Cassian wracked his brain to find an excuse, “I think you would, uh, be better at filling out the paperwork.”

“Hmm,” Nesta tapped a finger to her chin and pretended to consider his offer, “How about… you do it?”

They were saved from their squabble when Gwyn reappeared with Cresseida in tow.

“So, can I take Mer home with me today or should I set up my place to be cat-ready first?” Gwyn was saying. 

“Ah, Cresseida! Just the person we were looking for!” Cassian interjected. “Nesta wanted to ask you something.”

Nesta sent him a frigid side eye that would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but only made Cassian grin. 

“We were thinking about adopting her,” Nesta said, pointing at the cat in question, “and were wondering what we need to do to make that happen? Is there just paperwork or something else we need to do?”

Cresseida’s expression changed completely. “I knew you would all walk out of here with pets!” she exclaimed triumphantly. Then she sobered slightly. “I’m so glad you’re interested in this cat, but like I mentioned earlier, there is something you should know.” 

Nesta nodded sharply. The anticipation and anxiety started to creep up on her. Was the cat sick? Or disabled in some way? Perhaps she and Cassian, as first time pet owners, weren’t equipped to give her the care she needed. 

“When we found her, she was only about two months old,” Cresseida explained. “We’re not quite sure what happened to her mother, since she didn’t seem to be with her family. But she had already bonded to another animal. They’re still quite close. Even though they’re generally kept in separate kennels, we usually let them play with each other once or twice a day, or she’ll start to get antsy. If at all possible, it would be best not to separate them. It may be possible for her to get used to living without her bonded friend, especially if she’s in an environment where she’s well-loved and taken care of, but it would be very difficult on both of them. So if you would consider adopting both of them, that would really be for the best.”

“Like, another cat?” Nesta inquired.

“It’s not Mer, is it?” Gwyn asked, looking worried. “If it is, I guess I’m going to have to move in with Nesta and Cassian.” Her face suddenly brightened. “I can be like a live-in nanny!”

“No, it’s not Mer,” Cresseida replied, “and it’s actually not another cat. It’s quite a unique situation. We’re still not sure how these two found each other and came to be bonded, but the other animal is actually a dog.”

“Oh.” Nesta felt her heart sink. She would hate to separate the cat from the one other animal that had been with her since she was a baby, but she also couldn’t adopt a dog. She wouldn’t allow Cassian to feel unsafe in his own home. 

“We could adopt both-” Cassian began, just as she knew he would.

“No,” she cut in. She didn’t care if it made her seem like the villain in Cresseida’s eyes. “I’m sorry, we can’t.”

Her eyes shifted to the kitten once more. The cat truly was adorable. Nesta would miss her tremendously, even though they’d only just met. Still, she couldn’t separate her from the friend who’d become her family. She would have to let her go. It hurt, but she knew it was for the best.

“I don’t think we’ll adopt her after all,” Nesta said. Though she had once prided herself on hiding her true emotions from the world, she could tell that both Gwyn and Cassian instantly read the meaning behind her aloof tone. 

“Yeah, you’re right, that’s probably the right decision,” Gwyn supplied. “Adopting pets and having a baby at the same time would be really hard.”

Cassian kept silent. She knew he was itching to deny it, to demand that she adopt the cat anyway, his feelings be damned. She was glad that he knew her well enough that she would not be swayed, and that his well-being mattered more to her than anything else. 

Cresseida sighed, disappointed. “I understand,” she said, resigned. “Dogs aren’t for everyone, especially if you have a lot on your plate. This dog really is the sweetest, although if you are allergic, a golden retriever wouldn’t be the right breed.”

“Hold on, did you say a golden retriever?” Cassian interjected. “You’re not talking about Lina, are you?”

Cresseida looked surprised. “I am, actually. I assume you’ve already made her acquaintance, then?”

“Wait, you’re saying we can adopt both Lina and this cat? And they wouldn’t fight or hurt each other?” Cassian repeated, as though he couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded too good to be true.

“They do play-fight occasionally, but no, they don’t hurt each other and they get along great. But, I understand that you can’t adopt a dog,” Cresseida answered, slightly confused. 

Cassian turned to Nesta. 

“Did you hear that, Nes? We can adopt them both.” 

He was beaming. 

“They’re so perfect,” he repeated as they brought Lina and the cat home a week later, after they’d made all the necessary preparations. “It’s like we were made to find them.”

She felt like she was floating, swept up by the exuberance in his eyes.

When she watched the kitten curl up in Cassian’s lap while Lina sat beside them, a paw resting against the cat’s back, she couldn’t find a name for the feeling that bubbled up inside her. The only viable contenders — love and contentment — seemed too small to capture it all.

When Cassian later asked her what she wanted to name the cat, she looked at the life they’d built together — the bookshelves lined with hockey history books and romance novels, the kitchen counter where Cassian’s favorite chocolate lay beside her mountainous tea collection, the polaroid pictures of them stuck to the fridge with magnets, and the pets filling their home with affection — and replied, “Ataraxia.”

Peace. 

__________

Present day

“I can’t even bring Ara and Lina around Cresseida anymore,” Cassian grumbled. “She always just talks about how incredible it was that we actually believed we’d leave her shelter without a pet.”

“She’s a menace,” Nesta agreed, though her words lacked any real bite. 

They both adored Cresseida, and were delighted at how happy she made Emerie. It was only that Cresseida shared their friend group’s penchant for teasing their friend mercilessly. 

“Her cooking is amazing though, so she makes up for it,” Nesta continued. “I had no idea vegan food could taste that good until I met her.”

“Speaking of cooking…” Cassian pointed to the last photo. It was labeled ‘cooking breakfast’.

Nesta leaned in closer to inspect the image. “When was this?”

“What? You don’t remember?” Cassian gasped in mock offense.

Then, he took her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”

__________

Three months ago

Cassian awoke to the birds chirping and the smell of pancakes permeating the air. He rolled over in bed, reaching out for Nesta, only to find her side of the bed empty. 

He let out a small sigh. 

It was a Saturday morning, and his favorite thing to do on weekends when they didn’t have anything planned was to spend lazy mornings in bed with her. During the week, both of them were too busy to linger in bed. Snoozing their alarms once was the extent of their indulgence. 

But on weekends, Cassian liked to savor the feeling of Nesta lying beside him. He would lay in silence, taking it all in — the blankets warmed by their body heat, the way Nesta’s hair glowed in the morning light, the gentle pressuring of her body laying against his. Eyes half-open, he would breathe deeply and allow the peaceful contentment to fill his lungs. When Nesta woke up, there would be time for slow kisses, quiet conversations, and tender lovemaking. Their room would fill with soft but unbound laughter and playful quips. Later, they would make their way to the kitchen. One of them (usually Cassian) would cook brunch while the other did the dishes, swept the floor, or started a load of laundry. 

This morning, it seemed that Nesta had broken their usual routine. 

As Cassian rolled out of bed, his eyes caught the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was 10:05 am, far later than he usually woke up on weekends. Cassian was almost always the first to wake, generally around 8 or 9 am, and he’d lay patiently until Nesta gained consciousness around 9:30. 

Clearly, he’d been exhausted last night. It had been a long day of training, and then they’d gone out for dinner with his friends. After coming home, he and Nesta had watched a movie and then spent an hour tussling in their sheets. He’d fallen asleep as soon as he closed his eyes. 

Cassian pulled on a pair of dark jeans and strolled out of the bedroom without bothering to find a shirt. 

He found Nesta at the stove, flipping a pancake. She looked ethereal with her long hair down and shimmering in the light that flowed through the window. 

“Morning, Nes,” he said after taking a moment to appreciate the view. 

Nesta’s long legs were bare. She was dressed only in his striped button-up shirt which ended right below her butt. As she turned towards him, he could see that she hadn’t bothered to do up all the buttons on his shirt. The V dipped deep enough that, had she been wearing a bra, lacy bits would have peeked out, but she’d clearly thrown the shirt on without it. Was she wearing any underwear?

She sent him a small smile in greeting. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t bother to wake me up,” he teased as he pulled one of the hair ties off his wrist and put his probably messy hair into a neat bun. 

“Well, it seems like I tired you out last night and you clearly needed your beauty sleep,” she shot back. 

“Are you trying to imply that I didn’t tire you out?” 

She shot him a smirk. “Well, I was up first, wasn’t I?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, even as he held back a smile. He loved this easy back-and-forth, joking banter. “I’ll have to remedy that tonight,” he declared. 

“Aww, did I bruise your little ego?” 

She moved the pancake to a plate, and poured more batter into the pan. 

“There’s nothing little about me,” he joked before walking up behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her. He was careful to steer clear of her arms, so that they wouldn’t accidentally touch the pan or the stove and get burned. 

He rested his head in the crook of her neck. “I missed you this morning,” he whispered. 

“Couldn’t survive a few minutes without me?” she answered. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile in the warmth of her tone. 

“You know I’d be lost without you,” he answered. His tone was light and humorous, but his words were no less sincere.

She let out a small, fond chuckle. “Good thing I was only making breakfast then.”

He inhaled deeply. The smell of her vanilla and jasmine conditioner mixed with the sandalwood scent that lingered on his shirt. His neck was at a slightly awkward angle, bent down to accommodate Nesta’s forward-leaning posture as she cooked, but Cassian knew he’d be happy standing like this forever. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, until Nesta stilled in his arms. He knew she needed to move in order to put the pancake on a plate and couldn’t do so with Cassian wrapped around her, but she also didn’t want him to let go. 

He waited for a heartbeat, then gave her a slight squeeze before unwinding his arms. Before pulling away completely, he pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.

Then, he walked over to the utensil drawer to start setting the table. 

When he sat down, his eyes flickered to Nesta’s figure, waiting for her to join him. He was itching to serve himself one of the pancakes in the middle of the table and bite into deliciousness. They smelled absolutely incredible. 

However, Nesta walked over with the pan still in her hand. She plopped the pancake from her pan straight onto his plate. Unlike the other pancakes, it wasn’t shaped like a circle.

“It was misshapen, so it reminded me of your face,” she quipped as she sat down after putting her pan in the sink. 

“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his smile. The pancake was shaped like a perfect heart. 

As they dug into their food, Cassian felt the domesticity seep into him. He knew how the rest of the day would likely go. They’d wash up together, and then Cassian would head out for a run with Lina while Nesta curled up on the couch with a book. He’d come home and shower, then make her a cup of tea. Later, they’d change the bedsheets, make a list of the groceries they needed to pick up, and chat, before watching a movie or ordering takeout. They’d end up having sex on the couch or in the shower — anywhere but on their freshly changed sheets — and then fall asleep curled around each other with Cassian’s arm slung over Nesta’s waist. 

Their lives had fallen into a routine. And Cassian loved it. This peaceful life they’d built together could never be boring — not when they always filled it with so much playfulness and their jobs were filled with drama by necessity. The regularity was a blessing, not a curse. When Cassian walked through the doors to this apartment, he felt the tension of the outside world fade away. He felt at home.

He loved the life they had created together, and couldn’t imagine anything better than having mornings like this one for the rest of his life. 

The thought should have shocked him, but it did not. He’d known for a long time that this was coming, but it was only now that it had fully sunk in.

He looked across the table at Nesta and caught her eye.

“What?” she asked with a grin.

He reached over and laced his pinky with hers. 

“Nothing.” He smiled. “I love you.”

She shook her head fondly at his cheesiness, but still replied, “I love you.” 

He wanted to declare his love for her in front of the whole world, and then spend the rest of his life with her. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his life than dedicating it to loving her. 

That day, he started researching rings. 

__________

Present day

“I love you,” said Cassian. His eyes shone brightly. “I love all the moments we’ve spent together and the memories we’ve made.”

He walked around the table where the pictures lay and grasped her hands. 

“I do too.” Nesta, although still confused by their impromptu outpour of emotion, was always eager to remind Cassian of just how much she adored him. “I love you so much.”

Cassian smiled. She could see that a million thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he took a breath to focus himself.

“I love you,” he said once more, as though he couldn’t help himself, just like he had after he’d first said the words. He’d been like a child who’d never been allowed sweets who had just been given a box of chocolates — he marveled at the fact that he had love in his grasp and he gorged himself on it, basking in the delight that he could say the words whenever he wished. 

“Every minute, every second I get to spend with you is precious to me,” he continued. “Whether we’re at a party, a restaurant, a vacation, a match, or doing chores at home, every moment with you turns to gold. You made my life so beautiful and meaningful and happy, Nesta, in a way I never even imagined was possible. Even in the harshest moments, I know I’ll be okay because I get to come home to you every night. You’ve helped me learn how to live, not just survive. Because of you, I can love openly. Because of you, I can be myself without worrying that I’m too much. Because of you, I can let myself feel joy, instead of constantly worrying that it’s going to be ripped away from me. I can only hope that I can make you half as happy as you make me.”

“You make me happier than I ever thought possible,” Nesta answered. She was certain there were tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There were so many things that she could say — how the world had appeared cold and cruel, just like her reflection in the mirror, until she’d seen it all through his eyes. She would never stop being inspired by him — how was it possible for him to be so kind when the world had been so awful to him? How was it that he got wholeheartedly excited when it snowed, despite knowing the stinging pain of a cold night on the streets? His joy was infectious, and now she couldn’t help but admire the beauty in every little thing — children skipping down the sidewalk, the leaves changing color, and the birds chirping in the morning. 

Yet, she couldn’t find the words. How could she express the magnitude of her emotions for him, and just how much he’d changed her life? All she could do was look at him. 

He squeezed her hands gently and she knew he understood.

“You’ve made me a better man.” His voice was slightly raspy as emotion clogged his throat. “My life is so much fuller with you in it. We’ve made so many beautiful memories,” he said, gesturing to the pictures with one hand, “and I want to dedicate the rest of my life to making more. It would be the greatest honor to spend my life by your side. I want to fill that table with a million — a billion — more memories.”

“So, Nesta Archeron,” He released her hands. She blinked in surprise and found him kneeling before her, a small box open in his hands with something sparkling inside. “Will you marry me?”

Her gaze had gotten blurred with tears, but she blinked them away now. 

Cassian cut a stunning figure as he looked up at her, rose petals and candles glowing around him. His outfit flattered his body — the wine-red shirt showed off his muscular arms without being too tight and contrasted his skin tone well, bringing attention to his soft blush and curved lips to highlight his joy. His long hair was as glorious as usual, half of it pulled into a bun. 

Still, it was the look in his eyes that caught her attention. His beautiful hazel eyes, framed by his long, dark lashes, sparkled not only with love and joy, but also with breathtaking certainty. Unlike during that bookstore date so long ago, Cassian was secure in their love. She could see in his eyes that, even if she said no, he would not doubt their relationship for a moment. 

But of course, there was only one answer she would give to this wondrous man. He had come into her life like a fire, warming her and brightening her life in innumerable ways. 

“Yes.”

__________

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[emmalovesfitzloved]

Last question, who are your fav downwolders and why?

Ahh… well it has to be….

The one….

The only….

💫Magnus Bane! 🥂

(Art credit: @cassandrajean )

Queue the music!

Now. Reasons reasons reasons. Where to begin.

I took my time thinking about this question bc there are quite a few downworlders I have an affinity to. But the showdown where it was REALLY hard to pick one or the other was the battle of the warlocks…

Tessa or Magnus.

On the one hand, I love Tessa So much (wrote a piece on why you can find here hehe) and I truly think she is a timeless character (well before she became literally timeless ie. immortal) and her influence throughout the shadowhunter world is iconic, relevant and enduring.

(Art credit: @giannyfili )

However… her choices and inner narrative became a bit clumsy dealt with and a bit inconsistent unlike Magnus’s, as the shadowhunter novels went on. Of course, characters are allowed to change, grow, develop at any age, but her character felt slightly manipulated in the writing? All for the sake of peddling the plot. Not to get TOO into the whole herongraystairs touchy topic but I do think as I’ve grown up and done over a handful of rereads I do spot the slight manipulation that started then, which kind of set a precedence in her character throughout. I adore Jem but he as well was felt a bit clumsily. Topic for another time.

Meanwhile Magnus, while through his own self discoveries and through his own immortalities feels more cleaner in plot. He’s necessary, vibrant, witty and is that character that you ALWAYS look forward to reading. He is That character that just lights up a room and you wait with baited breath on what he’s going to say next. His air of lightness that he brings into every interaction makes you be able to read and listen to him all day long. With long promises made of laughter, sage advice, experience, history and adventure.

“I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?""A regrettable choice of words," muttered Magnus (City of Ashes).

And because of this, when he is being serious, his words strike you when you least expect it and leave you stunned.

“You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is All” (Clockwork Princess).

His bisexuality was handled wonderfully, and was truly one of the first stories I think our generation read where the sexual identity wasn’t about coming out but already at the stage of acceptance and fun loving. He remains respectful and doesn’t want Alec to rush out of the closet but rather does the best thing- inspire Alec to be the best version of himself in life which is finite. That’s the best thing a partner can really do for you.

However he isn’t a Mary Sue bc in every series he stars in the reader sees his vulnerabilities in pure daylight. And also has a plot line that challenges his Yodha immortal dogmas. Will being one weakness of his in TID, Camille and how she mistreated him and being alone in a very sad world. I don’t think these topics were explored nearly as well with Tessa.

“You left me. You made a pet out of me, and then you left me. If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me” (City of Fallen Angels).

And of course, his relationship and development with Alec is my top 3 relationships in all the shadowhunter world. It felt natural, wonderful, sizzling, exciting and steadfast. Didn’t feel too young or naive like I sometimes feel when reading Clace, but new enough to feel like the honeymoon will never end. And I think in part it’s because of Magnus bringing out the best in people, and how Alec chose him. Of all the people Magnus helps out, he actually doesn’t really ask much in return. But for once Alec did a double take on him and let Magnus take the reins of where their relationship will lead them. With great readership payoff 🥹💍

“You could give me the past,“ he said a little sadly. “But Alec is my future” (City of Fallen Angels).

(Art credit: kasirose)

In fact, he has SO much to offer we got standalones, his own mini series with his partner and constant features in further novellas stories. There is no other character in the Shadowhunter chronicles who has been that centre stage as him. And he deserves all of it.

Favourite Swiftie songs that r HIS:

• BEJEWELED

• Begin Again

• Welcome to New York

• You’re in Love

• Karma

• You’re Not Sorry

• Ours

• I Know Places

• You’re on Your Kid

• Castles Crumbling

• The Last Great American Dynasty

• The 1

• Hoax

So yeah the superlative for the best Downworlder has to go to the delightfully and wonderfully written…

Magnus Bane <3

(Art credit: kasirose)

So yeah! I hope the answer makes up for the wait @imabitchforjemcarstairs ILY! And thank you so much for the lovely ask!

P.s. if any artist doesnt want to be affiliated, kindly DM me and I’ll remove your lovely art and mention from the post :))

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

The Concierge Presses On (Part 50D)

"I've been waiting for this," Undyne snarls, holding her hand out to summon another golden spear. She twirls it, sinks into a combat stance, and roars, "I'm gonna rip you apart!"

"I think not," is your even reply as you whip out your gun and fire three shots right into her chest while moving swiftly towards the duelling Papyrus and Chidi. It's not going to stop her, or even wound her, but it's enough to get the monster to hesitate in charging at you. "Swap!"

Without giving you a signal that he heard you, Papyrus seizes Chidi by the collar of his suit and throws the human man into a wall. His red eye lights burn bright as he swings his masked and hooded head to a charging Undyne.

He cracks open his maw and snarls, magic thrumming in his every word as he advances on the former Captain, "I AM WHO YOU SHALL FACE!" Red magic gathers in his hands to form into a familiar shape of his bone sword.

"Papyrus?!" Undyne gasps, her fierce expression turning aghast. But as quickly as that expression formed, it changes into a fierce, hurt scowl. "Traitor!"

You jog past Papyrus to take his place fighting Chidi, watching the massive man pick himself up from the ground.

Papyrus pays you no mind as he prowls towards the former Captain, snarling, "I SERVE THE THRONE, NOT THE MONSTER WHO SITS UPON IT. YOU. YOU DISHONOUR THE TITLE OF CAPTAIN!" His voice rattles the glass and chandeliers, causing the lights to flicker too.

Already, the air between the two monsters is tense, thick, heavy with magic. You can only imagine what a clash between them would be like, and you hope that the dining room isn't completely destroyed once all is said and done.

Chidi finally gets to his feet and groans, shaking his head once. "You have one, too," he grunts, rolling his shoulders. "Fine. No more games."

You couldn't agree more.

In a flash, you draw your gun and fire at the same time Chidi does. Most shots ricochet off stone and wood and shatter glass, but a good few pepper your and Chidi's raised jacket lapels as you both split in different directions. You're not surprised that you fail to wound him, and likely he is not surprised he had the same amount of success.

This will be a close quarters fight, you think to yourself as you slide behind a flipped table, ejecting your empty magazine and sliding another in. You only have one more magazine as well as the gun you lifted off the Myrmidon earlier, but you can't blow all your ammunition on this fight. There is far more to do.

But Chidi also thrives in close combat - you have heard tell of his lightning fast kicks, how he moves a lot faster than his size belies. But if you got inside his guard...yes, that's a plan.

Patting your coat to locate your garotte - in case you need it - you flex your hands and stretch them to alleviate the slight ache from your rapid firing. The red fabric is soaked in blood, now turning tacky and sticky and providing just a little bit of resistance. The thick scent of copper is thick in your nose, but it doesn't disgust you. Not in the slightest.

Quick footsteps advance on your position at a quick clip and you know you're out of time.

Chidi rounds your cover and advances on you with his gun raised, squeezing off shots to keep you on the back foot. You rush from cover to cover, your head shielded by your coat as you weave in and out of gunfire, responding with three shots that you fire with your free hand. Your clothes might be bulletproof, but it certainly hurts.

The bruises from earlier throb in protest as you move quickly. One that borders your spine, right over where your kidney is, is particularly annoying and it twinges as you whirl around to land two precise shots to take advantage of Chidi reloading. Why the man would do this out in the open, you have no idea, but you're certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It's hard to shoot accurately while moving. Even harder to account for his greater height while moving. But your aim is true. One gets him in the groin, and the other his lower belly. Non-fatal, considering the tactical weave that he wears - far more superior to that of the High Table soldiers, as your bullets fail to penetrate to the skin. But of the same quality as yours, as he howls out in pain and nearly buckles to his knees.

The Chilean somehow grits his teeth through the pain and stays on his feet. Damned pain tolerance. You don't waste the opportunity, though, and rush him.

Your gun disappears back into its holster to free your hands as you spring forward and up to slam into Chidi's upper body. Your feet find purchase on his hips. Your knees and legs squeezing his ribs and sides tight to balance and cling, squeezing a cry of pain from him as you tighten your legs. Your thumb hooks into the back of his collar and you fist his suit tightly. All to anchor yourself as you rear back with a bladed fist raised high, to try and sink your blade into his eye.

Alas, Chidi is too fast. His hands fly up. One to fist in the back of your coat, the other catch your punch before your blade can sink into his head. It's close. So, so close. Close enough that the razor sharp edge of your knife nicks just under his eyebrow.

You bare your teeth at him in a silent snarl and bear down on him with all your might, even pulling on the back of his collar to gain more leverage. The nick under his eyebrow deepens as you push the point of your blade into it, blood welling up and joining the drying streaks of blood that already colour your weapon.

But just as you cannot defeat Chidi's strength, neither can he defeat you with his. In the end, the Myrmidon elects to hurtle himself, and by extension you, into the same pillar that you had taken cover behind before.

Your back hits the stone hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of your. But your training keeps you from losing your grip on Chidi entirely even as your strength falters in the fight to sink your blade in his skull. You're somewhat mollified that the force of the thump actually drags your knife across his eyebrow and off to the side of his temple, drawing a long, weeping red line across his face.

Chidi roars and rips you off his chest with a heave and a burst of power. The force of his action throws you onto the hard wood floor like a ragdoll, and it is only instinct alone that makes you twist and land in a way that doesn't immediately break your back or your shoulder. It still drives the breath from your lungs as you roll and roll and manage to roll onto your feet from the momentum.

Holy stars, this hurts. Your shoulder throbs and so do the bruises littering your body, and even the small of your back and sides of your hips where you store the extra magazine and the stolen gun. The one blood streaked blade is still bared, scratching the wood as you heave yourself to your knees and crouch warily as you catch your breath.

Chidi likewise has collapsed against the pillar, his fingers touching the blood trailing from the long but shallow cut with a grimace on his face. He breathes shallowly, holds himself in a way that indicates that if you haven't bruised his ribs, you have at least made them very, very sore.

You both eye each other carefully as you each nurse your own hurts, as you each ease into a ready stance.

"We are not here for you," Chidi finally bites out, shuffling his feet to inch closer towards where he had dropped his gun.

With deft, but aching, hands, you draw yours and dissuade him from doing so with a warning shot. "Then leave," you say lowly, eyes hard.

It's hard not to look over at Papyrus to check if he needs any help, but the sudden shockwave of magic that ripples from his side of the room tells you that you are better off keeping away. The shockwave makes you stumble and stagger, and though Chidi does the same, he uses your momentary distraction to lunge for his gun.

This time, he's faster than you.

Pop pop!

"Give up John Wick and we will!" he raises his voice to be heard over gunfire and magic spells both. Though with the way you raise your jacket over your face and run for cover, you can barely hear him.

Of fucking course.

You duck and weave and run for cover as you fire blindly in his direction. It's not sustainable. Not only because it eats up far more bullets than you can spare, but also because your hand cramps and seizes on the trigger. Fuck.

A room comes up to your left and you dive into it with only a moment to think. It takes another moment to pry your fingers open and to stow your gun, and then another to figure out where you have ducked into.

A wash station - tall cabinets and stainless steel plate washing machines and sinks. All structures tall enough and sturdy enough to bear your weight. Good.

Rather than stay on the ground, you leap up and catch the edge of the cabinet which is thankfully screwed into the wall. You scramble up and crouch on your perch just in time for Chidi to come charging in after you.

The man doesn't immediately look up, his head instead swinging from side to side to see where you had went. Rookie mistake on his part.

Chidi has but a moment to register the red shadow flying towards him from above. This time, you are faster...along with the element of surprise. Bowling him over onto his back, you care little for the way he hits the ground hard with your weight on him.

He lashes out and tries to rip you off, but he's still stunned from the impact. You take the opportunity to shift so you're kneeling on his arms, freeing your hands which now sport your unsheathed blades. Your first strike doesn't land as he manages to move his head enough that he dodges the blade, but not your knuckles. They impact the side of his face with a heavy thud, reverberating through your forearm.

Not a clean hit, and certainly not a fatal one. Trying again with your other fist, you raise it and bring it down, but this time it misses completely as bullets slam into your throbbing shoulder at the same time as Chidi yanks at your belt to unbalance you.

It results in you losing your balance just enough that Chidi can throw you away from him and further into the room.

You roll onto your back and slide on your side, reaching for a gun with aching fingers and hands to train your sights on the Myrmidon leader who staggers to his knees.

Pop pop...pop!

Two to the chest - blocked by raised, clothed arms. One to the head, delayed by your aching, uncooperative trigger finger, blocked by a raised jacket.

Damn damn damn.

You can hear more booted footsteps from outside the washing area. Reinforcements. For Chidi and Undyne, most likely, given the way that the Myrmidon leader keeps his back to the door and his face to you. And also given the fact that they shot at you - none of your staff would dare.

Fuck, if that's the case, you can't be found on your back. Grunting with effort and pain, you heave yourself to your feet through gritted teeth. One more. Just one more try.

Charging towards Chidi with a deep snarl on your face, you watch his body language as he braces himself to have you barrel into him. You see his arms raise, his hands open. He's preparing to grab you.

But you don't use the same trick twice.

This time, you drop and slide between his legs, skidding on the wooden floor right up onto your knees behind him. Fingers hook onto his belt and you growl with the effort needed to yank him off balance. With the help of a strategically placed knee, Chidi goes down with a shout, slamming onto his shoulder on the floor.

Yeah, you hope that hurt.

Flicking your eyes around, you look for an escape route.

Two more squadrons of High Table soldiers bear down on you with their rifles raised, a sea of black advancing towards you. You swear lowly and get your feet under you to get the hell out of there.

Higher calibre bullets slam into your back and thighs as you run for cover, hard and painful enough to knock the breath out of you with every blow. One catches you just as you slide into cover, and that's the one that winds you. Wheezing for breath, you crawl up onto your backside and scoot to put your back to a sturdy half wall, your face twisting with pain that rains fire up and down your back and thighs.

Fuck, none of the bullets penetrated your clothes and you're alive, but hell if this is the better alternative.

Fumbling for the gun in its holster, you push through the haze of pain to register the hail of gunfire upon your shelter...or lack thereof. Now that you're paying attention, you can feel the heavy taste of magic on your tongue. Thick enough that you can feel it on your skin.

What on earth...

Carefully, you lean and peek from behind your cover to find a curious sight. Eight High Table soldiers fanned out in formation, all with their sights trained on your position, frozen in space with fields of red-tinged blue cloaking them.

Papyrus?

You look past the frozen soldiers to see the tall skeleton monster still clashing with Undyne, his mask cracked in two and revealing the left side of his face. If it's not him, then...

"aw, eight on one? that ain't very fair. how's about i even the odds a li'l, eh?" A deep, baritone voice echoes oddly in the air, coming from all directions. But it is the loudest from the entrance from which the soldiers clearly came, a broad, stocky figure topped with a fedora silhouetted in the entryway. Bright, glowing red eyes flare bright in the shadows of their face, and magic ripples in the air at every word. "ya boys are gonna have a bad time."

You sigh in relief and crumple against the wall.

Sans. He made it.

[carica-ficus]

-02/08/2023- "Six of Crows" by Leigh Bardugo

Read through: 100%

Read today: 23%

My Kindle totally bamboozled me! I have a version of the book that also has a sneak peak into "Shadow and Bone" as promotion material. But it's 5 full chapters!!! This means since yesterday I only had a few more chapters to go through before the end. A good thing to since I actually spent the day outside and didn't have much time to read, except in the evening.

Anyways. Book is finished. I'll be writing a review later on. Funny enough, I loved it more this time than during my first read through a couple of years ago.

Also! My bf bought himself "Crooked Kingdom" today, so he can just keep reading. Needless to say, he's hooked.

Last thoughts for this book:

I know I've said it already, but I'll say it again. Nina's and Inej's friendship is so underrated. There's a certain softness in them that really comes out when they're together. The gentle touches, the hugs and the kisses. They'd work better as a pair than with their love interests.

Speaking of love interests, I adore Inej for standing up for her own needs and wants. She loves Kaz. It's so obvious. It's so intense. But she knows she can't get what she needs from him. Not right now and not in the way she wants. I think I had a slight problem with that fact last time. I wanted them to finally end up together because they should, but now, when I'm older, I'm really happy Bardugo made the choice to give Inej more character than that. She is string enough to fight for herself.

But yeah. KAZ, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!!!

Oh, now you want to get your girl? When she's been snatched by the enemy?? Good job, doofus. Real fucking smart!

Jumping back to their eskape from Fjerda, the final fight was somewhat anticlimactic. I remember it being more exciting, but this has just been... Meh.

I completely forgot the book just... Ends! It cuts off at the worst moment. Sure, nowadays it's easy just picking up the sequel, but hell. Reading through the book when it first got published must have been hell!

Okay! That's it from me! Review will be up soon, until then, if you want to talk to me about the book, feel free! ❤️

[we-stan-cale]

27 chapters now woohoo!

I also finally got to the part that forced me to rework everything.

I'm just going to jabber on about that, now that I've reached this point.

Because I knew, going in, that Koreans learning about unranked monsters would change the story.

That leisurely enjoying your team leader's new life would suddenly become a mission to learn more about the monsters that have terrorized you (and everyone you know). Especially with two unknown unranked monsters.

I just.. thought we'd reach that point when we got to Endable. Way, way later in the story.

But then I thought 'we don't really have the full story on his childhood, but we have what was shown in Choi Han's indignity test'.

And then - well, I didn't want to make up the ending to that test, tbh. I suspect it'll come up in part 2.

So I decided to switch over to Cale's test. Where we meet Dodam.

And I debated skipping the Alberu half, since Dodam probably doesn't care about Alberu. At all. But I decided he wanted to know where Cale went when he wasn't in Dodam's part.

And one thing led to another, and I ran into Cale's conversation with Zed.

Where he made all the connections. About unranked monsters. And the Demon world. And Hunters.

And I could have just reversed some of my earlier plot decisions, pretended it never happened.

But I didn't want to.

So I basically went 'fuck it', I guess we're doing this now.

I pretty much threw the official chronology out the window.

I had to have at least some story before we got to the unranked monsters (originally it would have mostly followed tcf. So transmigrate -> shield power -> save Raon -> slight detour to the indignity tests -> and back for some fun with the vitality power, plus Taylor and Cage.

Now it would have meant skipping straight to the sealed monster statues and on through the very last parts of the novel, skipping pretty much the entire middle of the plot.

Plus, the characters barely knew each other. It has been... A day?

So I threw some things I'd been working on in earlier, added more interactions, threw in a surprise mission, and basically managed 20+ chapters before ending up back at that conversation with Zed.

It's been a really interesting time.

I had what I called the skeleton of the plot. Since it's a reaction fic, I mostly have to choose what scenes to do, modify it as needed, and add the reactions. To rearrange them I mostly just have to update the reactions to make sure I'm not forgetting what's happened in the plot.

I find it easier to edit an existing work, so once the bare bones are there I can make a later pass through where I flesh it out.

The fleshing out process has... Flowed a lot better than I expected actually.

The novel only mentions a handful of team one members by name, so I did add a few characters just so that we had more people. They started out pretty simple too. They started taking on more depth though.

Is this what fic writers mean when they talk about characters taking on a life of their own?

Anyways, I had originally held off on posting because a) I wanted eatapplepies to finish translating the wuxia arc and b) I was worried I'd have to do some more major reworking of the plot.

For a while there, I kept running into blasted references to unranked monsters (like in the sealed god's test, which I pushed forward. After all, I figured Dodam and Choi Han couldn't step outside into post-apocalyptic Korea without learning about the cataclysm, and since Dodam's thoughts - conscious and unconscious - are driving the plot, I figured it would work.

Except that's after Cale saw the statues, so I had to be careful not to end up with the exact same issue. (Totally had to skip a conversation between Dark Tiger Alberu and Cale because of that. I can pick where to stop or start some things, but it shouldn't really cut out in the middle of a conversation).

Anyways.

I had so much prepared, and I decided I probably wasn't going to rearrange those chapters any more, so I started posting.

After all, it's really nice to see people enjoy what I've put together. Positive feedback is motivating (as I think you all know).

Plus once it was published it was easier to feel like it was done, no more tinkering with those chapters+except maybe fixing mistakes), and it was easier to focus more on later chapters.

I think my poor readers must have thought I was manically writing like crazy, because I posted uh .. quite a few chapters in a very short amount of time.

Most of which had actually long been written, and just needed a final pass through.

Anyways. I am pretty pleased with the latest chapter, so I figured I wouldn't try pushing another one out just yet.

Tomorrow, or Saturday, it'll be time for this next bit.

I have enjoyed some of the TCF reaction fics, but I feel like there's a major problem.

Namely, that it's really hard for fic writers to stay motivated for over 700+ chapters, so it feels like they all start off strong for the beginning (especially rescuing Raon) and then peter out. We never get to the really good stuff.

Never reach that flashback when Cale reads the letter from the GoD, or see reactions to Choi Han rushing over to see Kim Rok Soo after getting Choi Jung Soo's records. Never have them see the Sealed God's test, and really... Post-apocalyptic Korea horrified Alberu, for good reason. Not that it's explicitly stated, but when is it ever? He had quite the reaction when he was trying to decide what to tell everyone else.

I've had some thoughts on how I would do it, but fair warning - I'm not much of a writer, and will probably never write it. All my respect for the ones that regularly write fanfic because I have like - less than a handful? Maybe, maybe, if I haven't moved on after finishing this reread, I'll try writing it myself.

The other thing is that I've been reading part 2 - only as far as eatapplepies has translated as I find mtl more confusing than helpful - and I'm really liking the Heavenly Demon. He seems to have fallen for our Cale pretty hard, and I'm interested in seeing how that goes.

So I have been playing around with ideas.

First - Dodam is trying to find 'that terrible bastard', and is dragging around his Choi Han.

He reaches Korea. Og!Cale as KRS, specifically. He has his own attribute, one to help him track down Cale, so he can pull up visions/memories related to that.

He pulls up the dream meeting between Cale and KRS.

There are a few team 1 members present, particularly Kim Minh Ah. Cue a bit of chaos, some 'aha' moments, and the long and the short of it is Dodam is going to pull up some of just what they're team leader is up to. (And if Dodam can figure out exactly which world or dimension to to next, and OG! Cale gets the bittersweet ability to see how his deal with the God of Death prevented the destruction he'd lived through, well... That's fine too)

During that brief moment, the Henituse noticed some strange mana fluctuations and managed to get Rosalyn there. She's basically able to tap into the feed and see and hear what's going on.

And divine intervention (like perhaps a god of love) extends the feed to the Heavenly Demon.

What would follow would be an abbreviated version of the key points. Sure, it loses some of the flavor... But we don't actually need, say, the amusing anecdote where an elf mistook Cale for a dragon.

Anyways, the more I thought about it the more I thought about how team 1 would react.

Because the minute they see those monster statues you know they'll all be going 'what the fuck?!?'

They will probably also nod knowingly at some of Cale's more shocking plans. Like hey, there he goes agreeing to help the Mogoru Empire put out the fire he started with the Whipper kingdom.

Nod, nod

Just like he did when they were dealing with that one corrupt guild

And if they ever get as far as seeing the Heavenly Demon, I'm sure one team member will be like 'Is.. is he flirting with Team Leader-nim?!?'

Cue stories where Team Leader Kim Rok Soo avoided a honeypot - except now they're thinking maybe he was just too dense to notice?