#Deedz talks about herself

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

All about me!

My actual name: Ivanna

My preferred nicknames: Evie, Dedde, and Deedz, your friendly watermelon aunt! (AO3 is Mrs.Watermelon993, so there’s the nick name.)

My ethnicity: Latina (I’m Colombian), I also come from the Watermelandia.

My favortite animal: Giraffes

My favorite flavor: Mint with chocolate (A combination made in Heaven)

Two things about me:

I’m actually a biscuit 

I’m a very shy person 

Yo hablo Español and English fluently. Je parle un peu français mais je ne sais pas beaucoup

My hobbies include:

Reading, writing, getting anxious for writing and not writing, never actually finishing half my stories, randomly going into hiatuses because I got unmotivated or sad, watching youtube, making fannart and fanfics, feeling down because I have self-steem issues and tell myself I am not good enough, making self-depricating jokes because I don’t like to take myself quite seriously.

I identify my Hogwarts’ house as : Slytherin!

Combined house is: Slytherpuff 

My favorite ships oven are the ones that people hate the most and made me look like a crazy person

I’m a cat person but I like doggos as well. 

I do like to do fannart but post it on rare occasions.

My DA, Tumblr, and AO3 accounts have different names because having a single name is just quite boring for me. 

My favorite movies are mostly animated classics, from independent animation studious, thrillers, maybe horror movies, and fun comedies (I’ll say between light-hearted and kind of obscure)

I have a tendency to write a lot.

I like to analyze characters.

I’m an introvert and I get really overwhelmed if I try to interact once with someone but it is all worth it for me.

I like to reblog things that I like or find quite funny. I’m not very active in many of my accounts due to personal time and not really being into fandoms, but I often like to occasionally post things about characters or things I love.

I’m also the creator of probably quite a controversial ship in the EOA community, but I just found that stupid idea of a younger me increasing and meeting people who like it as well as quite awesome. No worries, I love to have an open mind and talk to others with kindness.

About this blog:

Hello Jello, my fellow Jellybeans and Watermelorians! This is your watermelon aunt speaking. It doesn’t matter your age, where you're from, or even your orientation, what you identify as or like. I’m here to be your big, little sister, friend, or your watermelon aunt! Whatever you need (Don’t take it too literal plz) I’m here to help!

I love to meet other people and have conversations and joke around the things we like. I try to be open-minded as possible, so take this place to just hang around, seek for some comfort, or just joke around about silly things. I’m all for not taking yourself seriously at times, but also be willing to help those who need you the most. Love and kindness can make the world a better place, so I think we should spread it around!

I got a couple of rules though:

1. Hate, harassment, and bullying will not be tolerated here. This and my other accounts (DA and AO3. Lost my FF due to my email not working) are a safe and open space for other people to feel safe and have fun. 

2. Try to keep it as friendly as possible for others. I’m ok if you got a little high rated ideas, or things (as long as is not NSFW pictures. Sorry babies) but there can be people who can be quite sensitive to this.

3. Have fun! I love to do and learn about new things or fandoms. Feel free to give me the weirdest questions or prompts, I love doing weird stuff from time to time!

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 6 (Nessian AU)

A/N: I'm sooo sorry I haven't been updated in more than two weeks. I had exams :/ Also, do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Language

1572 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smile Cassian plastered on his face didn’t reach his eyes. His brothers saw that. Feyre and Elain saw that. Mor and Amren knew that. He himself did. But they didn’t say anything. If it weren’t Feyre’s anniversary, he would’ve even gone home. He couldn’t though. He wouldn’t do anything that would hurt his family. So he stayed. Smiled. Joked. Laughed. Did everything he could to keep his mind from straying to a grey-eyed masterpiece.

Az and Rhys saw, he knew. They always seemed to realise everything about each other. Even if one of them had a minor headache, the other two would know. Tonight, however, none of them pushed him. They probably thought he wanted to be alone. But did he? Truly?

He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to be alone. That would make memories of their lunch rise. Of her shirt splattered with coffee on one day and blood on another. Of her pale form laying on his bed. Of her, enjoying his food. Of their shared jokes. He didn’t think he could take that.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to be around people either. He didn’t know if he could stay around people who laughed and teased. He didn’t know if he could laugh with them and actually mean it. He didn’t know if he could anytime soon.

Cass glanced at the clock. 3.00 a.m. He smiled. Whenever they gathered around in the living room, retiring early was totally off the table. The earliest they dispersed was four in the morning.

To his right, Rhys sighed. “It’s late,” he said, tucking Feyre close to his side. “Gotta go to bed.”

He smirked, but held back the joke on the tip of his tongue. After a chorus of goodnights, Rhys and Feyre told them they could stay here tonight if they wanted to and rose to go upstairs. Feyre laughed at something Rhys said and Cass felt a pang of sadness hit him.

Sadness… and something else. He knew he shouldn’t, but he envied the both of them. How easily they bantered and teased. How smooth their relationship was. He remembered how Feyre locked herself in the cabin after Rhys proposed. He remembered how she asked Mor not to let anyone in, especially Rhys. He sighed. He felt an amount of the jealousy dissipate. Probably Nesta would get together with him after their slight misunderstanding passed. If it did.

He got up to leave when Az stopped him. “You sure you’re going back?” Cass didn’t remember telling Az that he was going back. Then again he didn't need to. Az always saw everything. “You're not that… somber.”

Ah. Cass smiled. “I'll be fine, ” he reassured. Az still didn't let him go. “I'll send you a text once I'm home,” he tried. Az sighed.

“I'll be waiting for it.”

Cass looked at Mor, drunk and blabbering before stepping out of the house. He kept replaying that memory till he reached home, keeping his mind occupied. He was scared of what would happen if he kept his thoughts idle.

He informed Az that he reached home. He didn't know why going back home felt like preparing for a battle. It probably was a battle. Between her and his self-restraint. What was at stake here was his sanity. Cass sighed. He stepped in through the threshold and welcomed the darkness that enveloped him.

***

Stop crying like a baby, Nesta repeatedly reminded herself. Why should she cry? Nothing here was her fault. Nothing.

Not the fact that she let his charmed smiles bring her guards down. Not the fact that she felt alive when he said something stupidly funny. Certainly not the fact that she was slowly falling for him.

None of it was her fault. So why should she cry? Why should she stop herself from attending her own sister's anniversary? When it was all his fault.

She shouldn't be crying. She should be thinking about ways of exploiting his weaknesses. She should think about how she would portray him as the weak one. She should think about how she was going to make him regret everything.

But how could she make him regret it when she never regretted a second of it? She hated that this was where her thoughts went first. To scheming and plotting. She thought she changed. Did she regret her wish to be good? No. She reveled in it. No, she vowed herself, I would not scheme to make him beg. I'm not that Nesta anymore. I'll never be.

She was proud of herself. She never realised her self restraint was this good.

But apparently not good enough. Her thoughts drifted back to him. No, not him. Cassian. Cauldron, it'll take some time to get used to calling him Cassian. Or maybe Cass. Feyre and Rhysand called him that. Probably she would too. She thought about what he called her. Nes. She flushed. That stupid name did stupid things to her. She pretended she didn't like it. In fact, she loved it. Somehow, she wasn't ready to tell him that yet.

***

Nesta blinked open her eyes against the morning light. Her eyes were closed? It was morning already? Huh.

It took her some time for her eyes to adjust. She screamed at what she saw. Nesta scrambled back from the looming figure of Tomas, leering at her face.

“Nesta, Nesta, ” he said in his eerie voice. It became scarier with his sing-song tone. “My Nesta.” He paused. “Though I suppose you aren't mine anymore. You were still mine last time, you know. When you handed me over to the police. ”

She bared her teeth, opened her mouth to say something when his hand closed around her throat.

“But now, I suppose I can't call you mine anymore, can I? That reminds me. Where is your bodyguard? Or is that brute your boyfriend?” He spat the last word. His hand tightened around her neck.

“Do you know what he did to me? Your bastard. Did you know how he threatened me? Did you know that he smashed my bones, that it took me this long to heal?”

Some sort of savage satisfaction filled her. The fact that Cassian did all this… she smirked. It didn't go unnoticed by Tomas. He growled, the sound sending icy fingers ghosting down her spine. She hoped she didn't have to hear it again.

His hand around her throat pushed her farther back on the bed. He drew back, she let loose a relieved breath. A mistake.

His hand cracked on her cheek. He came infinitely closer to her, his hot, rancid breath glancing off her cheeks. His hand kept tightening around her throat and she wondered how she wasn’t dead yet. It was certainly bruised now.

“Look at you. So vulnerable. So killable. I’ve imagined how I would slit your throat. So many ideas. If only I could kill you in all the ways I imagined. But do you know what is the best way I could kill you?”

Nesta let him talk. He loved to hear himself talk. She subtly looked around her room, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. She looked back at Tomas. He wasn’t talking. Did he ask her a question?

“Tell me, Nesta. Do you know what is the best way to kill you?” Nesta shook her head, his hand pressed around her throat. Tomas smiled. She cringed mentally.

“I think the best way to kill you and make it hurt is to kill you slowly. You know what makes it better? Having that bastard watch you die. Let him watch the life seep out of you. And then I’ll kill him too.” he said and she felt the room closing in. Panic was slowly rising in her.

“Now, now,” he said. She supposed he meant to be cajoling but the effect his voice gave was the exact opposite. “There’s no need to panic. I told you I’ll kill you only when your bodyguard is there.”

He pulled out a knife. She gasped and pain erupted around her throat. Her lungs were burning.

“But darling,” he said. She whimpered. She hated this. She hated that she was vulnerable here. She hated that she couldn’t do anything when her death was slowly nearing. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Then his knife struck. Nothing hurt at first. Then, fiery pain whipped through her, beginning at her arm. She screamed. Pain. There was so much pain. She screamed so loud she pondered how the whole neighborhood didn’t hear anything.

***

Nesta gasped. Her eyes darted through her room. Nothing. No one. She looked at her arm. No pain. No scars. No blood. She touched her throat. It wasn’t sore. It wasn’t swollen. She got out of bed and looked at her mirror. No bruises. She let out a frustrated sound. It was a dream. A fucking dream. Or she supposed it was a nightmare. Still. It wasn’t real.

It was still five in the morning. Still quite early. She released a breath. She wouldn’t find a cab now but she could walk. It wasn’t that far. She fixed her hair and changed her clothes. She wasn’t going because she missed him. She just didn’t want to be vulnerable again. That’s all. She just wanted to know how to defend herself. Nothing else. So Nesta went to Cassian’s house, hoping that she’s making the right choice.

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