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bakingandbooks3 · 3 years

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A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

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consultingsister-a5 · 2 years

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MAIN ARC (long story short) i survived LEADING INTO now we live in peace (but if someone comes at us this time im ready)

When someone asks what your father does a living, you’re supposed to be able to answer them, right? Ballpark at least. You know he works in the bank even if you don’t know what he does all day. A doctor, an accountant, a breadmaker.

Morland Holmes was different. Cee would say, a consultant. Of what? Oh politics, of business, of world affairs. He was a problem solver; a coming together for knowledge, money, power and influence that had been built and refined over hundred of years. The Holmes International Consultants was created between world wars and gave the Holmes family a more official capacity. Before, they had roamed the halls of government like a shadow.

So, Morland Holmes is a CEO and consultant. You have narrowed down the field. But what does he actually do, what is the day to day roles of such a man? Why do politics, royalty and billionaires from every corner of the world call him friend? He is mum on the subject. In fact, he is downright silent.

He makes calls, he sets up meetings, he introduces the right people to the wrong people. He has people, some nice people, some not so nice people. He tries to be as fair and kind as he can be. He likes a quiet night in.

The Holmes children grew up knowing just enough about what their father did for a living. Mycroft and Sherlock knew enough to know they didn’t want any part of it. At seven, Celia watched a man with a hood over his head shot point blank in their front hall so she assumed she grasped some of the picture.

In 2018, due to age and the way the world was changing, Morland Holmes was forced to appoint his successor. Not his eldest son as he had once imagined, not even his second son, but his youngest child and only daughter. The gender of his successor mattered to him very little, although he was aware Celia would have to fight twice as hard. What worried him was his daughters impulsiveness; her ferociousness. He was slow and steady as an iceberg; Cecelia was wildfire.

Cecelia Holmes returns from New York to London in early 2018. She is picked up by a member of her father’s security and given her first assignment. Her test run. It’s time to start taking China seriously; they need a Hong Kong base.

The next three years are the hardest of her life. She begins to understand why Morland Holmes lives alone. keeps few friends, misses birthdays. The work is its own type of isolating; dangerous but that’s the easy part. As you begin to understand how the world works, it becomes harder to look friends in the eye.

In 2021 Celia returns to London; mission successful. In 2022 she will officially be announced at the new CEO of Holmes International Consultants and her new reign of terror will begin. There is a boy, there is a nice house in London, there is a job that finally fulfills her but please don’t mistake this for a happy ending. Cecelia Holmes has too much of her mother in her and that kind of crazy doesn’t rub out easy.

#ITS UP ITS AN ARC ITS UPDATED #( v. main | now we live in peace )#( v. main | long story short i survived )#( i. arc )

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cinematicjourney · 2 years

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Celia (1989) | dir. Ann Turner

#celia #celia: child of terror #ann turner #rebecca smart #films #movies #cinematography #screencaps

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quazartranslates · 3 years

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH59

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 59: Purgatory Reunion (XI)

Burst brains mixed with dirty blood and flowed across the floor, filling the air with the disgusting scent of blood.

Ning Zhou was standing in the pool of blood, his dull expression unchanging.

He hadn’t actually done anything. What he did was to tear Mrs Kathleen’s enchantment with the Sword of Judgment, and then stand in the same place and shock this group of lower demons with his influence. However, under the oppressive feeling of terror, the demonic power in this group of lower demons became disordered, and the lower demons who couldn't control their demonic power had their heads blow up one after another like inflated balloons.

Bodies with destroyed heads fell to the ground, and blood was still streaming from the incomplete skulls. The brains and blood splashed everywhere on the ground, on the walls, and on the sofa, making this originally neat reception room like a slaughterhouse.

Mrs Kathleen was still kneeling on the ground, shivering and afraid to look up at all. Now she only hoped to save her life.

This bloody scene shocked Qi Leren.

Although he had confidence before and he felt that Ning Zhou should be able to handle this barrier, he had not expected...

Standing in the pool of blood, Ning Zhou was like a Devil King who had just come into this world. His eyes emptily looked ahead, but his sight seemed to have penetrated the wall and looked toward an unknown place. He never said a word, and remained as silent as ever. This bloody silence left a trace of gloom on his handsome face, which also made Qi Leren keenly capture his emotion—Ning Zhou was not happy.

Even his heart was in pain.

This kind of power was a kind of torture for him.

Even if he was delivering justice with the evil power, he was not happy. Because this kind of power perpetually lured him into the abyss of sin.

"Let's go and hand her over to the people from the Courthouse," Qi Leren whispered, stepping forward and touching Ning Zhou’s arm.

Ning Zhou recovered from his long silence and nodded his head.

Their entire journey back was silent. Qi Leren contacted Celia, the Trial Court’s contact person in Ant City. Celia brought people to take away Mrs Kathleen and her companions, and asked about the informant who had come to investigate before. Fortunately, this informant was still alive, but he was locked in a private prison and had suffered a lot of injustices.

The gambler who had claimed to have seen the Illusionist was dead, and died because of his high gambling debts. As Qi Leren and Ning Zhou had seen in this underground casino, it was even worse than that. All the useful parts of his body were removed, and even the blood was drained clean.

So for the time being, they couldn't figure out why the Illusionist had come here.

After returning to the Court’s stronghold in the Underground Ant City, Qi Leren talked with the contact Celia about the current situation, intending to take Ning Zhou back to the Village of Dusk after confirming the Illusionist’s safety.

Under the working conditions, the contact Celia was a very capable woman, who worked in perfect order and could handle the subsequent troubles of this underground casino despite having a shortage in manpower. Although she was obviously curious about the relationship between Qi Leren and Ning Zhou, she didn't ask a word about the things she shouldn't ask, and turned a blind eye to the two people holding hands all the time.

"This underground casino is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the Underground Ant City’s filth. Gambling, prostitution, and drugs in the lower city form a huge interest chain, and there are some higher demons standing behind them. For them, the humans and lower demons here are just slaves without brands." Celia frowned in disgust. "This Dragon Ant Queen is too careless in managing this place."

"What are these people thinking when they’re gambling?" Qi Leren couldn't understand it at all.

"They’re dominated by greedy desires and... greedy witches." Celia said, "As far as I know, the behind-the-scenes owners of most underground casinos here are Witches of Greed, just as the owners of brothels are mostly Witches of Lust, and this is also the arena where they compete for power."

Qi Leren seems to understand, but his understanding of "forces" had not jumped out of the concept that ordinary human beings could grasp. Even though he had broken his shell and even touched a higher level, he had not condensed a half-field after all, and he still had little knowledge of his "rebirth" force. When things here were over, he would have to ask Chen Baiqi and the Prophet when he returned to the Village of Dusk.

Celia added, "The letter of request has been sent, but I'm afraid it will be another week until the Court replies."

"All right, let's wait another week." Qi Leren thought about the Illusionist’s safety and decided to stay for one more week. Anyway, now that Ning Zhou had been found, he wasn’t in a hurry.

It was settled. Celia skillfully commanded the staff to interrogate Mrs Kathleen. Sitting on the sofa, Qi Leren suddenly thought of something: "Remember to ask her where the subordinate who came to the Underground Ant City with her is now."

Qi Leren had a subtle intuition that he couldn’t speak of; it was always right to be vigilant.

Celia looked through Mrs Kathleen's information. "Okay, I'll have this added to the interrogation. Take a rest first. I’ve prepared the room for you."

The room was a private suite with two bedrooms separated by a wall. The shared living room also had a beautiful small terrace where you can see the Underground Ant City’s underground river. Judging from the arrangement of the room, the Ant City’s contact person was a very careful and cautious person, and has a smooth integrity.

Qi Leren's spirit had been overloaded recently, but the compulsory monthly task had been put off until it couldn't be put off any longer. So after dinner, he greeted Ning Zhou and went to do this month's compulsory task—for a person who has already glimpsed his original force, the compulsory task of a novice was really too simple to mention.

It was only ten o'clock in the evening after completing this month's compulsory task. Qi Leren, who was exhausted physically and mentally, thought he could have a good night's sleep. However, he was haunted by nightmares, and various death scenes appeared in his dreams over and over again, forcing him to relive the tragic deaths again and again. After experiencing the Star Death Reality Show copy, he had experienced some new ways of dying. The horrible laser net was really a psychological shadow, and finally there was the fall into the deep glacier when he had fought Leviathan, which worsened how horrifying his nightmares were.

Amidst the weightlessness of the fall and the severe pain of his nerves, Qi Leren suddenly sat up from the bed and gasped. When he came to, his back was soaked with cold sweat, and his temples were still throbbing with the same frequency as his heartbeat, bringing a spasm of pain each time.

Qi Leren took the water cup at the head of the bed and drank half a cup of cold water, which made him calm down from his extreme panic.

It's no use. I'm going to lose sleep again.

Qi Leren took out the sleeping pills he had brought with him, but the pills stopped before they reached his mouth.

It wasn’t a good thing to sleep by taking medicine, so he shouldn't do it unless he had to. Qi Leren swallowed the temptation of taking medicine and getting a good night's sleep, got out of bed in exhaustion, and prepared to go to the balcony to smoke, relieve his mood, and slowly adjust himself to sleep.

Opening the bedroom door, ahead of him was the living room with no lights on, and beyond the living room was the open terrace. There was a figure standing behind the curtains blown by the night wind, standing on the terrace with his back to him.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Ning Zhou looked back and met Qi Leren's eyes.

Both of them didn't speak. In this gentle evening breeze, the unexpected encounter in the middle of the night was as beautiful as an otherworldly dream.

Qi Leren trotted over and stood beside Ning Zhou, watching the underground river in the distance. There were several boats with lights floating on the river’s calm waves, and the surrounding streets were lit with streetlights. Sparse pedestrians walked along them, humans and demons alike. They walked silently on their own roads and were indifferent to everything around them.

But Qi Leren cared. He thought of the silent man beside him, and he could feel his inner unrest.

"Let’s talk," Qi Leren said to him.

"Talk about what?" Ning Zhou asked him.

"Anything will do." After Qi Leren finished saying this, he felt that he had not fulfilled his responsibility to guide the conversation, and started a temporary topic. "After I was resurrected, I saw your mother, Ms. Maria."

Seeing Ning Zhou's eyes focus, Qi Leren considered his words and said: "Later, I happened to learn some things about her and the Devil of Destruction... Speaking of which, had she never mentioned it to you before?"

Ning Zhou shook his head: "She chose to send me to Neverland, so that I wouldn’t find out."

Perhaps the Holy Nun had already foreseen such a cruel possibility, that one day she and the Destroyer’s child would follow the same path as his father, so she cut off this path from the beginning and guided him to condense a half-field that would incompatible with his original force by way of the Holy See. If there hadn’t been the accident of meeting Qi Leren, Ning Zhou would have walked on the clouds all his life, and he would have fought with demons and finished his life with inner peace and contentment.

"She didn't really hate him," Ning Zhou said.

Qi Leren could vaguely feel it.

"She said that he was a lost man." Ning Zhou watched the distant lights, which were reflected in his eyes. The ethereal flickering lights became spirited in his beautiful eyes. The light generated from pain and despair lit up his soul.

Qi Leren was almost stunned. He suddenly wanted to kiss his beautiful blue eyes.

"Maybe one day, I will become lost like him, and step by step go down the path of destruction. If that day comes... it will be enough for me alone to be in Hell," Ning Zhou said quietly. At this moment, he suddenly felt something called "fate", which was once cruel, and would only become even crueler.

Qi Leren, who was in a daze, asked him, "What about me?"

Ning Zhou looked at him and whispered, "I hope you can always stand in the sun."

Qi Leren's throat tightened, and the lights in front of him suddenly blurred. Always, this person always tried every means to protect him and the world. He was too gentle and kind. The world treated him so cruelly, but he didn't know what resentment was and didn't want to lash out. Even if one day he fell into Hell, he didn't want to take anyone with him, even the one he loved.

He would rather bear the pain and loneliness alone, and go to ruin silently.

"Then I’ll tell you, I don't want to," Qi Leren choked up and said.

As Ning Zhou was stunned, Qi Leren hugged him.

"You listen up: I don't care if you are a human being or a demon, or if your force is destruction or something else. I don't care if I stand in the sun. Only you, Ning Zhou, only you are something I must not lose, do you understand?"

Ning Zhou didn't answer. He hesitated, wrapped his arms around Qi Leren gently and carefully, and felt the people in his arms embrace him harder, so he hugged him too.

It was like holding the only salvation in the world.

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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julemmaes · 4 years

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Oksy so don’t feel like you have to do this but nesta and the kids go out grocery shopping and they bump into THOMAS FUCKING MANDARY and Nesta gets super overwhelmed but she’s got the kids and shit so she pretends she’s fine

But later cass comes home and the kids tell him what happens.

(and maybe they have a talk on important stuff about being with someone who loves you and if someone hurts you they don’t love you and it’s beautiful Idk)

Loving And Caring

Nessian modern au set in the The Seven Of Us universe (masterlist)

acotar next gen fan fiction

A/N: This is the reason I’m gonna fail my English exam, so please enjoy:)

The children’s ages: Ezra is 11, Cal is 6, Nora is 3 and Celia is 2. Andra is kinda not born yet.

DON’T COME FOR ME FOR BEING SLOW AS FUCK OR FOR WRITING SUCH ANGSTY PROMPTS. I HAVE 70+ IN MY ASKS BOX AND THEY’RE ALL SO ANSGTY

Word count: 8,185

"I want it!"

"I don't-"

"No, I want this!"

"I said I wanted it first."

"You did not!"

"Mom!"

Nesta Archeron had been called many things in her life. Daughter first. Then sister and friend, woman. She had been appreciated by all the professors she had had the honor of meeting during her studies, who had called her the best in her classes. She had finally found someone who had sincerely called her love and then wife, and she would not give up that last acquired, very important title of mom for anything in the world, but-

Right then she just wanted to strap her kids to the cart and run.

Walking down the cereal aisle, she ran a hand over her swollen, ready-to-burst belly, realizing that she would have to trip and fall on her bump if she wanted to end the problem for good. The baby girl, for whom they still hadn't chosen a name, would be born in a few weeks, and if she didn't get rid of her, too, she would never find peace.

She giggled - or at least she thought she did - at those morbid, disturbing thoughts for which many people would surely have her locked up in a mental hospital, if they found out how often she admitted to wanting to abandon her children.

It had been such a tiring day. She had been home from work for a couple of months now, this fifth pregnancy was breaking her down physically and mentally. She was at the end, in her eighth month, but she would much rather have the last baby out and inside the cart with her sisters by now.

Celia and Nora were babbling something in their imperfect language, and Nesta's heart clenched for her little men at the thought that they would be outnumbered in a few weeks. She and Cassian had experienced that feeling only three years before, and yet she still hadn't forgotten the terror she had felt at the idea of her children turning against them.

They had created a small army.

Casting a quick glance at Ezra who was sneaking something into the cart, she huffed. If the others noticed that he had put a package of junk food in the basket, that would be the end of it.

Moments later, in fact, Cal was looking at the colored bag in the still empty cart with suspicious eyes, and Nesta wasn't going to wait for the fight over who could buy the most junk food that day to begin.

"Ezra, put the snacks back," she said rubbing her hands over her eyes.

Celia mumbled something as she sat inside the cart, and Nora, silently settled next to her, nodded, as if she understood what the other was talking about. It shouldn't have shocked her, but Nesta never ceased to be amazed by that way of communicating that only the two of them understood.

Ezra's icy eyes turned sad when he looked at her and he pouted, "But mom I need them for snacks for school."

Cal looked at him with a furrowed brow, "No you don't. I need them." then he turned to Nesta, "But I don't like these, can I have those?" he asked with a bright smile pointing across the aisle with a wave of his arm.

She leaned forward, sighing and not answering him. Nora looked up at her and reached out her hands toward her mom, letting her know she wanted to be held, but Nesta was aching.

Cal and Ezra hadn't stopped bickering for half a second, and Celia had cried all day because she wanted her dada. Nora had stayed in Nesta's arms the entire walk to the grocery store, and one way or another she knew she would have to carry her all the way back home as well, despite the unbearable back pain. It was less than two kilometers, but with a pregnancy running out and only one hand to restrain any possible child who threatened to throw themselves under the cars whizzing by, it became more mental work than physical.

When Nesta smiled lovingly at her, trying to make her understand that she couldn't hold her right then, Cal burst into tears.

Her daughters' little heads snapped up at their brother, and Nesta cursed herself for deciding to do something as stupid as taking her four young children to the grocery store on an evening when they were all visibly on edge and stressed.

"Dear, what happened?" she asked without even an ounce of concern in her voice. She knew full well that it was just a tantrum. She got confirmation of that when Ezra replied in a whiny tone that they couldn't both buy snacks, or they wouldn't know how to carry them home. At that point Cal's cry became a proper scream and Nesta had to close her eyes to avoid the judgmental stares of the people passing by.

She brought her hands to her temples, massaging her forehead in circular motions, and when she thought she could handle it without throwing up on each of her children, she leaned against the cart, circling around Ezra and crouching with no small amount of difficulty in front of Cal. One hand on her back and the other still clinging to the cart, she grunted as she put one knee on the ground. She felt Nora's little hand rest on hers as she began to speak, "Listen kiddo, we're all very tired and now your brother is going to put his snacks down too," she explained, giving Ezra an inquisitive look over her shoulder. The eldest son rolled his eyes, but he had Celia hand him the package and snortingly put it back. Cal sobbed, sniffling, and Nesta laid a hand on his shoulder, massaging his arm. "How about we read a book together tonight before bed?"

The boy's face scrunched up in a grimace of sadness, "But I want snacks." he sobbed louder. Nesta bit her lip, knowing full well that the fat tears on his cheeks weren't really for the snacks and that she couldn't give in and let them all buy something or she'd end up with two bags full of junk food to carry.

Cal hadn't slept that afternoon, as had everyone else, because of Celia's endless crying, and she hadn't wanted to take her afternoon nap until it was too late and Nora and Cal had gotten out of bed to go play in their rooms. At that point Nesta had been forced to let Celia go, but she knew that had meant agreeing to spend an evening with frustrated and not-rested children.

She was about to respond when a couple of older ladies walked by them, casting an annoyed look at Cal. Nesta would have liked to respond with an ugly hand gesture, but she couldn't do it in front of her children.

In that moment of distraction she hadn't realized that Celia had also started calling her and now, casting a quick glance at her daughter, she felt a very bad feeling sink into her stomach at the sight of the little girl's tear-filled eyes.

She looked at Ezra, taking a deep breath, and noticed that even the oldest of her children seemed bothered by the course of action Nesta had taken. She felt tremendous guilt at seeing that the only one of her children who didn't seem disappointed or angry with her was Nora.

It all got worse when one of the two ladies who had just passed her said loud enough so she could hear her, "I don't understand why some people don't stop with their first child. It's obvious she can't even handle one, listen to her screaming."

Nesta felt the emotion grow in her throat.

"When someone isn't born to be a parent, it shows immediately. She's one of those awful mothers who doesn't know how to take care of her children." the other added.

Nesta caught her breath, fixing her gaze in Cal's. Celia was crying by now, spluttering to be picked up as she tried to keep her balance inside the cart.

She wasn't going to answer. She wasn't going to answer.

"Let's go home." she whispered suddenly, laying a hand on the small of her back and pulling herself up with a tremendous effort, a twinge of pain went through her legs and back, "Cal, dear, we'll buy the snacks another time, for now we'll just take the bread and milk, tomorrow come back with daddy and take whatever you want, okay?" she spoke quickly, in a high, steady voice so that all four of them could hear her. She just hoped they didn't hear how desperately she was trying not to burst into tears over what the ladies had just said.

Cal nodded, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and immediately stopping crying. Ezra looked thoughtful, but he too had stopped pouting. The only one who still looked upset was Celia, who followed her by walking inside the cart, moving where she stood.

Seeing the little girl's red face and dripping nose, arms outstretched toward her, Nesta heard only the words "awful mother" repeated in her mind.

With a knot in her throat and a cry that she was sure would break free as soon as she stepped into the house, Nesta pushed forward, bumping the cart with her belly as she picked up Celia and placed her on her side. The little girl immediately stopped crying, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and cupping her tiny hand over her shirt.

Now, beyond the emotional wound that had just been inflicted on her, Nesta could feel the pain in her back growing with every step she took. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop a sob that threatened to break that composed attitude she had.

Everything hurt so bad.

Cal was running in front of them all, stomping his feet on the ground and making the little lights on his shoes glow. Ezra was walking beside her, one hand on the edge of the cart as he mouthed off to Nora, but he had to stop when Nesta froze in the middle of the aisle, taking an abrupt breath. She brought a hand to her belly, feeling the baby move and kick, only adding to the pain.

"Ezra, love," she breathed, stepping aside and holding Celia against her side, then asked between her teeth as the baby continued her assault inside her, "could you push the cart?"

He nodded, his face lighting up as if she had asked him to take control of a ship.

Celia began to squirm on her side and Nesta had the urge to drop her, not voluntarily, but it all hurt so much that her body was begging her to sit up, to take all that unnecessary weight off her arms.

At the idea that she would have to walk home she felt her eyes grow heavy with tears.

She put Celia back in the cart, breathing a sigh of relief as some of the pain eased in her lower back. Nora was now standing and smiling at Ezra, who was struggling to see where he was going past his sister.

Nesta looked up just as Cal hopped out of the aisle and fell to the ground, crashing into someone's cart. Or rather, as someone ran over him with their cart and slamming him to the ground.

She didn't even think about it as she started walking as fast as her body would allow towards her son, leaving the other three behind. By the time she reached him, Cal was standing there laughing in amusement and was running his hands over his pants to get the dust off his palms. Once she made sure he wasn't hurt, she was ready to yell at whoever had dropped her son, ready to take out all her frustration and doubts on the stranger, when she heard a voice that sent chills down her spine.

"Nesta Archeron?"

She moved her head so fast she was surprised she hadn't snapped her neck, but her brain didn't have time to process the pain the jolt had caused her, because there standing before her was Tomas Mandray.

She couldn't believe it.

Any thought of yelling at the stranger vanished like an echo in her mind.

How was it possible that he was there?

"Is it really you?" he asked her with wide eyes and an incredulous smile on his face. He circled the cart, shifting his gaze to Cal, and Nesta felt the overwhelming instinct to grab her son and hide him behind her. When Tomas reached out a hand toward him, ruffling his hair, she felt vomit rise in her throat. They had to get out of that place immediately. "I can't believe it." he voiced her thoughts, "Is this yours?" he asked looking into her eyes again.

This... he was talking about Cal.

She couldn't find the words and continued to stare at the man in front of her with wide eyes - scared eyes, if you knew Nesta, if you knew where to look. And Tomas knew it. Tomas had always known it.

She heard Ezra reach them, and then something slammed into her side. She didn't need to lower her head to catch a glimpse of Nora's little pigtails of black hair or hear Celia's amused giggle.

Tomas snorted a laugh out of his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are they all yours?" then moved his gaze to her belly to bring it back up to her breasts and Nesta wanted to say something to him, to insult him, to hit him, to take him away from her children, but she felt her heart pounding in her throat and the air couldn't reach her lungs.

That tone-

That tone wasn't of someone who was happy to hear that you'd made a new life for yourself after they'd managed to destroy you completely. It wasn't the tone of an old friend who you hadn't seen in years and who you're about to agree to hang out with and tell them about everything that happened in your lives.

No, it was the tone he had used every day, every hour, when he needed to belittle her, when he needed to make her feel insignificant, worthless.

"Mom?"

Nesta turned her head so slowly toward her son, blinking, that she must have seemed like another person entirely. No longer the proud, strong woman she'd shown everyone for years on that side. Ezra had one eyebrow arched, as if wondering what was going on, and was clasping hands with a jumping Celia.

She didn't have the energy to turn around, to look at the man who had pushed her to the bottom of the barrel and destroyed her, but she managed to throw out a weak, "Kids we have to go, we're not taking anything." then turning to Cal, she took his arm, pulling him towards his siblings, "Let's go."

She felt Tomas' eyes creeping over her like slimy hands. She could still remember the last time he'd touched her, when she'd gone over the edge, offering herself to him to avoid yet another fight or worse.

For that, when his true hand tightened around her wrist, pulling her slightly to let her stay there, she flinched.

"Nesta."

She spun around, bringing her free hand to her belly for protection. When the little girl inside her kicked again, making her groan through her teeth in pain, Tomas smiled in a way that made Nesta hope she was anywhere but there.

"Is she kicking?"

And then it all happened quickly. She couldn't move, couldn't pull away, as the grip on her wrist tightened and Tomas pulled her closer to him and placed his other hand on her stomach, next to hers. A soundless sob escaped her control and her breath labored as she felt his fingers move over her shirt.

She was going to throw up.

She gave a tug so hard that the twinge of pain started at her wrist and reached her elbow, but she was free. She smacked the hand on her, taking several steps back and bringing Cal with her. She had started pushing the front of the cart, trying to position it in the direction they had come from.

She met Ezra's gaze for a moment, before her son's eyes slipped behind her, on Tomas' figure.

"Ezra." she called to him in a firm voice. Four pairs of eyes snapped in his direction. That was the tone of a tired mother issuing orders to her children at the end of the day, "Eyes on me."

She didn't want anything of Tomas's to come into contact with her children. She didn't want him to contaminate them the way he had contaminated her.

She lifted Cal off the ground and the child quietly let her pick him up without too much of a fuss. She didn't feel the strain at all as she pulled him high enough to put him in the cart with the girls. Looking at her oldest, she hoped she could secure him like she was doing with the other three, but he was too big to fit in the cart himself.

Before she could tell him to follow her without saying a word, Tomas spoke again.

"What a beautiful name, Ezra," she felt the venom bind each letter.

Ezra was about to turn around, probably to thank him, as she and Cassian had taught him, but Nesta squeezed his shoulder, "Keep looking ahead and walking, I don't want you talking to him."

"Always so fucking obnoxious," Tomas spat at that point.

Nesta froze in her tracks. She could feel him following them as he tortured her. Ezra froze beside her, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention.

Always so obnoxious. You're useless, worthless. I'm the only person who will ever be able to put up with your bullshit. You'll never find anyone else.

She felt the panic rise, the agitation for one of her children to realize how uncomfortable she was at that moment. She closed and opened her hands on the cart's handlebars, hoping to relieve some of that tension.

"I'm amazed to see you with so many children," he continued, creeping up beside her and stopping in front of her cart, blocking her way with his. She looked up at him, feeling the air scratch at her throat. He had aged, she could see it in the features around his eyes, his mouth - he had aged and yet still had the same look. "I didn't think you'd ever date again after I left you."

I left you. She wanted to tell him. I had the courage to leave.

She didn't answer him, straightening her back.

Tomas smirked, lowering his gaze to her daughters and his smile widened even more.

"Don't look at them," she snapped, still maintaining her composure.

The man looked up at her one more time, "They'll be just as pretty as their mother when they grow up." then looked at Cal and Ezra, sliding a finger over the edge of his cart. "Who's the father?"

"Dada." muttered Celia, flapping her little hands.

Nesta wanted to recoil at the sound. She didn't want Tomas to hear her talk, didn't want him to watch them. She didn't want them breathing his same air.

"It's none of your business and now move over," she whispered to him. All she could think about was the fact that she had to get her children out of there as soon as possible. Therefore, when he didn't move an inch, she added. "Please."

Tomas laughed. He laughed, leaning his head back and clutching his hand around the mesh of her cart. "Nessie Nessie," he clicked his tongue on his palate, a remnant of laughter in the tone of his voice that made the woman's gut tangle, "I haven't seen you in so long. I want to know everything."

"Please." she repeated, as her eyes filled with tears. His own widened slightly, surprised to see such a reaction in her. She didn't care if he saw her weak, she didn't care if she had to get down on her knees. He was keeping them trapped, and Nesta knew he wouldn't let them leave until he squeezed even the last drop of sanity out of her.

If Ezra still realized what was going on, she didn't know, and it scared her even more. Cal was looking at her and looked worried, probably having never seen her so shaken in her life.

She was about to beg him a third time. Beg him to free her from whatever that game was that they were stuck in at that moment, but someone said her name. Ezra looked behind them and Nesta saw the shadow of a smile on his face, prompting her to turn around in turn. A choked sound escaped her throat as she bit her upper lip to keep from bursting into tears, and a wave of gratitude washed over her.

"Miss Archeron," the man smiled at her. Drakon Cretea had been Nesta and Cassian's neighbor for years now. He and his wife Myriam had babysat their children so many times that they were their go-to people. In fact, Celia and Nora had snapped to their feet at the sound of the voice of the acquired grandfather they loved so much.

Nesta didn't waste a moment turning the cart so that it faced Drakon. The children, Ezra included, began to cheer happily at having met a familiar face, and Nesta allowed herself to look over her shoulder.

With such relief that she thought she might collapse to the ground, she saw that Tomas was already pulling away, and as he turned the corner, pulling into another aisle, she took a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes.

She had made it.

***

Cassian was exhausted.

He had spent the entire day grading exams for first-year students with his aide, and it was as if he could see the letters behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was much more feasible to work in the university library, where he didn't risk being interrupted by a child every five minutes, but he only tried to do it once or twice a month during exam sessions, knowing full well how exhausting it was for Nesta to keep up with all the children together until late in the evening, especially now that Andra was about to arrive.

"Andra." he murmured into the silence of his car. Nesta kept telling him that they weren't sure that would be the name of their fifth child, but Cassian didn't care. He just needed to name his wife's belly when talking to his daughter.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned off the car in the driveway and stepped out, stretching his arms up just enough to make his back crack.

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he huffed. It was too late for his girls to still be awake, but maybe he'd be able to say goodnight to Cal and Ezra.

He had warned Nesta that he was going to be late, and she had simply replied that she would leave dinner ready in the kitchen for when he returned.

Opening the front door, he immediately saw two little dark heads popping up from above the couch. Cal was already running at him when he closed the door behind him and jumped on him as soon as he had put his stuff down, "Dad!"

"Kiddo!" said Cassian throwing him into the air.

Cal laughed waving his arms, "Sssh," he scolded him still laughing, "the girls are sleeping."

"Oops," dad made a guilty face, stopping their game and putting Cal down.

Ezra was too focused on watching TV and wasn't paying the slightest attention to Cassian, but he walked over to the couch anyway, lowering himself just enough so he could leave a kiss on his hair, "Hi love." he murmured to him.

The little boy's head snapped toward him and with a crooked smile on his face and his pajama collar in his mouth, he said, "Hi dad."

Cassian scoffed amused, ripping his pajamas from between his teeth, "How many times have I told you not to eat your clothes?"

"Sorry," Ezra said, not sounding sorry at all.

Cal had gone back to lying next to his brother and they both seemed too caught up in the cartoon to pay any attention to it, so he went into the kitchen, loosening the tie around his neck and praying that Nesta had cooked something good - though the opposite was quite unlikely considering the woman's innate cooking skills.

He moaned with delight when he realized it was the meatballs she always made when she didn't feel like cooking and, taking the plate, he headed back to the living room. He plopped down in between his sons, taking the pajamas out of Ezra's mouth again and offering them both a meatball.

"So, what have you guys been up to today?" asked Cassian with a full mouth, slipping off his shoes and placing his feet on the coffee table.

First Cal and then Ezra told him in full detail about what they had done at school and then about the fact that none of them had slept that afternoon. Cassian was surprised to find out that Cal could still stand up without getting any rest.

When they got to the point where Nesta had taken them out walking and they had made it all the way to the supermarket, he had stopped them.

"Guys come on," he looked at them with incredulous eyes, "I told you to keep her home."

It was true. Lately Nesta had been pushing her limits when the doctors had told her to exert herself and stress as little as possible. With childbirth imminent too, it was risky for her to walk around without any other adults.

Ezra had the decency to look guilty, "I know, but-"

"We also met a weird dude," Cal interrupted him.

Cassian looked at him taking on a confused expression, "Weird?"

"Yeah, he knew mom," Ezra nodded, looking at the TV and talking thoughtlessly. He was bowing his head slowly and Cassian unconsciously extended a hand towards him, shutting his mouth before he could start chewing on the fabric once again. He looked at him at that point, continuing the story, "Mom was all weird, though."

"Weird." repeated Cassian.

"Yeah, weird." repeated Cal in turn, then chuckled, "He even hit me with the cart."

He and Ezra laughed together, remembering how Cal had fallen on his bum, but Cassian's thoughts were elsewhere. Clearly the fact that someone had rolled his son with a cart must not have been traumatic or painful, or Nesta would have called him and Cal wouldn't have been there laughing, but the fact that they had described her with an adjective like "weird" had him on high alert.

"Do you happen to know the man's name?" asked Cassian, pulling himself up and setting his plate down on the coffee table, keeping his gaze on his hands.

Ezra shook his head, "No, also because mom didn't talk to him much and then Drakon showed up."

"Oh, yeah," Cal repeated excitedly, his eyes glowing, "then Drakon showed up."

Cassian was on his feet before his youngest son had finished speaking. He started up the stairs to go upstairs, where he hoped he would find Nesta awake, but warned the two little men that he would go change and be back down to them in a jiffy.

With a strained expression and a bad feeling working its way through him, he walked down the hall, opening the door to his daughters' room slightly. Both Celia and Nora were already fast asleep, and Cassian felt a smile break out on his lips... his little gems. He couldn't believe yet another one would be arriving soon.

He closed the door, making sure not to make any noise, and then headed to his room, praying that Nesta was okay and that his children had misunderstood everything.

He heard her before he even entered. He could picture her pacing back and forth through their room, muttering about what was bothering her at the moment.

He took a deep breath, ready to fight whatever demons there would be to fight that night together, and tightening his hand around the doorknob, he lowered it, pushing himself into the room.

Nesta stopped short, both hands wrapped under her belly to help support that extra weight she was always complaining about.

The second Cassian's eyes found hers, her expression completely transformed and a desperate sob broke the silence that had formed between them.

"Nesta." he said as if someone had just sucked the air from his lungs. Reaching for her with two quick strides and wrapping her in his arms, Cassian heard all kinds of emotion in his wife's crying.

When he stroked her back, Nesta let go a wail of pain and he immediately pulled away, still keeping his hands around her elbows as much as her cold hands tightened around his forearms.

"God, Nesta what happened?"

She only cried harder, loosening her grip on him when she was sure he wouldn't pull away. She managed to say between sobs, "Everything hurts."

Cassian felt as if the floor has cracked open beneath them. "Is it the baby?"

Nesta's eyes went wide, probably only realizing at that moment what state he'd found her in, "No, she's fine." then, seeing his increasingly worried expression, she added, "I promise the baby's fine."

Cassian sagged at little, reducing his lips to a thin line, gently pushed her towards the bed to get her to sit up, but Nesta shook her head, taking short, overly fast breaths, "I can't."

Cassian paused, taking her hands and trying to restrain himself from asking her who they had met that afternoon that had managed to trigger such a reaction in her. There was no way she could have been in that state just from being tired.

"I can't." repeated Nesta sobbing and looking into his eyes. "Everything hurts, Cassian."

He sighed, closing his eyes. Seeing her in this state was nothing new unfortunately. With four pregnancies behind them and everything they'd been through in the years prior to their marriage, it wasn't unusual for either of them to be in such a condition.

He opened his eyes, trying to keep a firm tone, "How come you can't sit down?"

"If I sit the pain gets worse." she said between choked breaths.

Cassian furrowed his brow, wanting to yell at her about how stupid it had been of her to go walking that afternoon, but he restrained himself. "Have you tried lying down?" he proposed.

Nesta shook her head again, "Any position hurts my back or my legs," she explained.

"Tell you what," he began hesitantly, taking both of her hands, "why don't you put on those super pants that support your belly - or I'll help you put them on, it's no problem," he added quickly when he saw the pain in her features, "and then I'll give you a leg massage while you're standing?" he said smiling at her coyly. Nesta sniffed, nodding slowly. "And when sitting doesn't hurt anymore or is bearable you get on your knees on the bed or lean against the keyboard and I massage your back too, are you up for that?"

She squeezed his hands to let him know she was okay with everything, so Cassian smiled at her, returning the squeeze and starting to pull away from her to go get the leggings, but Nesta's eyes went wide and a few tears rolled down her cheeks, "Where are you going?"

Cassian grimaced worriedly.

Why hadn't she called him if she was feeling this bad?

He moved back as close as he could without crushing Andra between them, "I was just going to get my pajamas, Nes, and your pants." he placed a hand on her face, stroking away the remnants of her crying. Then he sighed, pushing her forehead into his and keeping his eyes open as he whispered, "I love you."

She repeated it quietly, almost a sigh.

He undressed quickly, slipping into his pajamas with equal haste as Nesta stood motionless in the center of the room, waiting for him to return to her.

"Listen," Cassian began, kneeling in front of her as he helped her out of the pajama pants she was wearing, "the boys told me you met someone today." he forced himself to look at her, when the grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened. Cassian studied the reaction he'd elicited from her and bit the inside of his cheek, seeing how Nesta had frozen and put her foot down. He took a deep breath, giving her knee a little tap to let her know she needed to get it back up, "They didn't tell me who it was and I don't think they know, but I got some ideas and I want-" he swallowed loudly, thinking seriously about what might have happened if his doubts were real, "If it's Tomas, I want to know if you're okay." he said in a lower voice, looking at her from under his lashes. Nesta didn't answer.

He had managed to get both of her feet into her pants and was pulling them up gently, trying not to hurt her. He had to pull up the skirt of the robe she used during all her pregnancies when none of her pajamas fit anymore, uncovering her belly and left a gentle kiss on her skin, smiling at his daughter, "Hello my little sunshine."

He felt Nesta shiver and thinking it was from the cold he hurried to cover her belly with her pants and then pull her nightgown down.

He looked at her more seriously than ever as he settled on the floor in front of her so he could massage her into a comfortable position. He was about to speak, to ask her again how she was doing, but she beat him to it.

"What did you do today?" she asked in a weak voice.

Cassian closed his mouth, bouncing his legs, pondering whether to insist that she spoke or let her distract him with that question. He decided for the latter, even though his wife already knew very well what he had done that day, "This morning there was an exam of Ancient History for the first years." he began to speak while pressing his thumbs on her left thigh. Nesta was leaning her hands on his shoulders. "I have to be honest, I've never seen exams as crappy and ignorant as this session's," he continued while keeping his gaze fixed on her face. "It's like people stopped studying all of a sudden and thought they could pass my exams by learning the bare minimum."

He shifted on her other thigh and Nesta snapped forward, groaning softly as Cassian touched a particularly numb muscle.

"Sorry." he smiled at her, "Then at lunch I stayed in the faculty with Gwyn and Luc, and by the way, they asked me if you'd be okay with organizing a lunch this weekend, with everyone?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, "I can't even walk, let alone plan a lunch with everyone," she pointed out to him in an irritated tone.

Cassian chuckled, "I'll let Gwyn know you told her to fuck off nicely."

"Yes, thank you," she replied to him. But then she bit her lip, thoughtfully, "But if they want to do something at her or Elain's that's fine. I can also cook, but not here, please, I don't feel like tidying up afterwards." she looked into his eyes with a pleading look.

"It's okay, it's not a problem," he shifted to her calves, "Although, if the only problem has to be the fact that you don't feel like tidying up, you know I wouldn't let you."

Nesta grunted, "I don't want you to do all the work yourself."

Cassian let out a puff of air through his nostrils, "You can't be the only one working hard in this house Nes, let me have some of the glory too." he joked.

"But I'm not the only one." she said in an overly serious tone, "You're always at work and I know you're working overtime, filling in for your colleagues, don't think I haven't noticed," she scolded him. Cassian lowered his head, feeling his cheeks turn red. "And I'm here at home and I can't work and I've been like this for months now and even before that with Celia-" she sighed, bringing a hand to her face, "I just wish I could help you bring something extra home."

Cassian stopped massaging her leg, surprised at what he was hearing. He moved away from her, enough so that he could stand up without bumping into her stomach and then looked at her, shaking his head, "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, "Nesta you're raising our children. You're doing a much more tiring and exhausting job than mine ever will be." he pulled himself upright, "True, it's just as rewarding and enjoyable to be able to stay home and watch our children grow up, but you're the biggest help I could ever get right now. We don't need money right now."

"But-"

"No buts." he said arching his eyebrows and pushing her towards the bed, "Do you think you can sit?" she nodded pensively and let him help her up onto the mattress. "Nesta what you're doing is admirable and I'm sure not everyone could handle it as well as you can."

Nesta stopped in the middle of the bed, turning to look at him with a shocked expression.

Cassian was just as shocked. That she didn't realize how much she was actually helping him was beyond comprehension.

"I can only get by because you're there," she murmured, looking away, "I'd never make it on my own."

"And no one expects you to make it, Nes." he said stunned. He really couldn't understand where all the doubt was coming from, "You don't have to make it on your own and you're not doing it on your own."

He had her settled so that her back was to him and she was turned to the wall. He placed his hands over her back and began to make concise circles on the bottom, applying pressure where he knew the pain was most concentrated. Nesta's head fell forward in relief.

"You really don't think you're helping me in any way?"

"No, I-" she froze mid-sentence, "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, using his knuckles to massage her shoulder muscles.

Nesta groaned softly, "It's just that I wish I could go back to work and read all the books I want and I wish I could feel tired and be able to let my kids cry without anyone telling me what to do and how to do it. I wish I could move without the terror of going into labor at any moment and-" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I wish I wasn't so hormonal right now."

He could tell that her thoughts were all over the place.

There had been other such crises during Celia's pregnancy. The fear that they wouldn't measure up as parents to so many children. They were in constant thought that they were not giving them enough, that they were teaching them the wrong lessons. Cassian had received some nasty comments himself about how they were raising their children, and he knew right away that someone must have said something to Nesta that day.

They had always had stronger, more heartfelt reactions on her, and now that she was pregnant it was all much more altered.

"What happened today?" he asked her under his breath after a few moments of silence.

"No one slept, I didn't have a moment's peace and then we left and walked to the mall. I had to carry Nora all the way there and-" her voice broke on the last sentence and Cassian stopped his ministrations on her. He laid both hands on her back, getting as close as he could, letting his hands slide down her hips and then over her belly, until his chest made contact with her back and Nesta pushed back against him.

She dropped her head onto Cassian's shoulder.

"And?" he murmured, spurring her on.

"Everything hurt so much, Cass," she replied in a watery voice, "It was like I was being stabbed in the back and I couldn't put Nora down because she'd start crying."

A sharp twinge of pain shot through his chest. He began to gently massage her belly and shortly after he felt her small hands settle on his, pushing harder, "No one would try to say you're a bad mother just because you don't pick up your daughter when you're hurting."

She didn't answer.

"Celia?" he asked.

"Ezra and Cal held her hand the whole way, she walked so much," she said with a half smile on her face. "When we walked in they immediately started acting up and then they started crying and I couldn't take it anymore and these ladies said I was an awful mother and it's true, Cassian." she jerked in his arms as she said those last words. He only held her tighter, taking a deep breath. "Who is the mother who can't calm her own children when they cry? Her own children." she shook her head, running a hand under her eyes.

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she had started crying again.

"Nesta listen to me." he whispered to her, kissing her shoulder and then the tip of her ear. "You are the most loving and caring mother I know. Your children are perfectly healthy and you've never let them lack for anything. You've never raised your voice to them. You've never threatened them or grounded them-"

"I'm not a monster," she muttered.

"And more importantly," he said smiling and holding her tighter, "your children are happy."

"But Cal today-"

"Cal is downstairs watching TV with his brother and he's been telling me about his day and he's the happiest kid ever," he interrupted her, "Just because he threw a tantrum and cried a little doesn't mean you're not a good mother."

She sighed and nodded, though she didn't look convinced.

Cassian continued to stroke the spots on her belly where he knew her skin pulled the most, her hand still on his playing with the wedding ring on his finger when Nesta said, "I saw Tomas today."

Cassian froze behind her, holding his breath. He'd known it, but hearing the fear in her voice now as she said the name of the man Cassian hated most in the world didn't stop him from wincing.

"He bumped Cal with the cart and knocked him over and I didn't realize it was him until he called me," Nesta continued.

When Cassian spoke, his voice came out much harsher and tighter than he intended, "Did he-" he cleared his throat, "Did he say anything?"

"No, he-" Nesta brought both hands to her stomach, shifting his. She moved uncomfortably in his arms and Cassian loosened his grip on his wife, realizing she wanted to move. He grabbed her by the hips, trying to pull her up so she could turn toward him, and when she was finally sitting up with her back against the headboard of the bed, she sighed. "I saw him, Cass, and I froze." she said under her breath, looking into his eyes. "He touched Cal's hair and it was like he was touching me, again, and I completely froze and then the baby kicked and he touched my-" she took a ragged breath as her eyes filled with tears. When she spoke again, her voice was so weak that Cassian had to appeal to every ounce of his reasoning not to get up and go find Tomas to kill him.

He took her hands, remaining silent as a revolting feeling took over his body. The idea of Nesta being touched by that filthy man made his guts turn. The idea of his children-

A choked sob brought him back into the room, "And I wanted him to go and stop looking at Ezra and Celia and Nora and I could only move when Ezra called me, but he followed us and blocked our way. He asked me about you, wanted to know who you were, and it was like going back in time and I couldn't- I couldn't, Cass-" Nesta brought a hand to her chest, her eyes and mouth wide as panic appeared in her gaze and air struggled to reach her lungs.

Cassian squeezed her hands, speaking softly, "Nesta, it's okay." a sob from her, "You're all home." he murmured starting to massage her palm, "You're home with me."

Her breathing became even more erratic and she shook her head, closing her eyes.

Cassian closed his eyes as well, "I'm sorry you had to see him again and I'm sorry you couldn't move, but it's understandable, sweetheart." he was trying to keep his tone of voice relatively low, to calm her down, but it was proving difficult for him as he viewed Tomas watching his daughters. "He shouldn't have touched your belly. He shouldn't have just touched you at all. And he shouldn't have gotten close to Cal or Andra." he seethed. "And if I could I would go to him and rip his hands off." he let slip as he imagined the terror Nesta must have felt at that moment.

Nesta sobbed and the sound broke Cassian's heart, "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry."

A pang of pain tightened in his chest as his face turned into a mask of controlled anger, "Don't ever apologize to me, please," he whispered, "Not for this stuff."

"But I couldn't do anything, even after all this time-" a hiccup broke the sentence, "He still has all this power over me. It's not fair."

It's not fair.

Cassian nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, "You're right, it's not fair." he squeezed her hands lightly, telling her to look at his face. She quickly did so. "You're not with him anymore. You're free. You don't owe him anything, just like you never owed him anything." Nesta took a shaky breath, stopping sobbing. "You have a family, you're a wonderful mother and wife. And you deserve all of this."

Nesta's eyes went wide, realizing where this was going.

Cassian took a deep breath, "You're not worthless, you're not hopeless or useless." he closed his eyes as Nesta mimicked him, breathing deeply in turn. "You are a strong, independent woman, it doesn't matter how much he said otherwise. It didn't matter before and it doesn't matter now. It's just meaningless words.

"I know you, Nesta, and you are the light of my life. The light of every person in this house. The only thing that keeps us going." he whispered in a weak voice, as Nesta leaned forward toward him and cried silently.

Cassian moved closer to her on the mattress so that she could rest her forehead against his chest, his shoulder, wherever she wanted, for support.

He had repeated those words to her so many times over the years. He didn't think he'd ever have to do it again, certainly not after so long that they both knew Tomas had moved to another continent entirely.

"I know you and you're nothing like he describes," he encircled her shoulders with arms when Nesta let go of a particularly loud sob. "You are the exact opposite of what he says." he kissed one temple, stroking the hair on her back.

She shivered in his arms, "I know." she whispered against his shirt.

Cassian managed to force a smile onto his lips, even though she couldn't see it, he knew she would hear it when he spoke, "I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because I can only imagine how hard it was for you to see him again, and although I would have appreciated a different approach to everything that happened this afternoon, you handled it perfectly and our kids are fine." he passed his hands over her shoulders and pushed her away from him so he could look at her face. "And it's okay that you broke down now, it's normal. I'm glad you told me about it. Thank you." he spoke against her lips.

She smiled, breathing a laugh through her tears, "I love you."

"I love you." repeated Cassian, sighing. He cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb under her eye, before kissing her. No rush or force, just pure, raw emotion as their lips caressed in a desperate kiss.

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bunny-lou · 4 years

Note

I loved how you tackled my prompt... I'd like to request another thing... this time, Carlos was always fearful of his mother AND Maleficent that he snatched the wand from Mal's hand and gave it to Maleficent. (during Descendants 1)

Enjoy @puwaasuru sorry it’s taken me so long to get up!

Here is my other fill for puwaasuru if anyone wants to read. In this one, Audrey takes Carlos hostage instead of Celia.

Warning for references to child abuse and overall cruelty

---

“Maybe good really is more powerful than evil.”

Maleficent tosses her head back and laughs. The noise echoes around the hall, all is silent save for her mirth and it encompasses them like a heavy blanket. “Oh please!” She nearly shrieks in hysteria. Her eyes narrow on Carlos and she purrs, “your mother wanted me to tell you that the bear traps miss you.” Maleficent’s eyes glow, so familiar to Mal’s, so entirely the opposite. “I’m sure after this little stunt, you’ll be locked in there for the rest of your short life.”

Carlos flinches away, backing into Jay’s arms as Dude falls from his grasp.

“Leave him alone.” Jay shoves Carlos behind him, darting for Maleficent’s scepter. He yanks and thrashes, but the scepter doesn’t move an inch with Malefient’s grasp on it.

The blood is rushing in Carlos’ ears. He watches as Maleficent grabs Jay’s arm, he sees her lips move and with a single flick on the forehead, Jay is sent flying back.

Short life.

You’ll be locked in there.

Bear traps.

Short life.

Your mother.

He’s so lost in the threat, he doesn’t catch Maleficent shape shifting until she’s already a dragon and hovering over them. It’s impressive, really, Carlos should be terrified of her, and he is, terrified of Maleficent, that is, but not as much as Cruella.

After this little stunt.

Carlos’ whole life revolves around his mother, as long as he could remember. She said to do it, he did it. If he did it well, no bear traps. If he didn’t do it well...

Jay has long since ran past all of them (even with his inner terror, Carlos still keeps tabs on where all of his friends are at any given moment) and ran back, up the steps of the cathedral between Belle and Adam and Ben and Fairy Godmother.

Mal and Evie are screaming, they’re distracted. Carlos’ fingers twitch.

Short life.

Evie pulls out her mirror and reflects it into Maleficent’s huge eyes, blinding her. This is as good a time as any. Jay is still dozens of feet from them, Evie is focused, there is only Mal left.

Mal, who offered protection and food and comfort, even back on the Isle where such actions would have her disowned and ridiculed. Mal, who threatened Cruella countless times over the scars on Carlos’ back. Mal, who shared her food, even when it was all she had stolen for herself in days.

There is no time for guilt, only time for action.

Carlos scoops up Dude and shoves him into Mal’s chest. She finally looks away from her mother to Carlos, then to Dude, back to Carlos. “Take him.” Carlos is out of breath and he hasn’t done anything, not yet. “Don’t let her get him, please. Run and I’ll keep them from you.”

He can do that, at least.

Mal’s mouth has only begun to form a question, the first of many, but she only gasps as Carlos rips the wand from her hands.

Carlos shoves her back. It’s the roughest thing he’s ever done with Mal. “Go!” He snaps over the roar of Maleficent. “I’ll keep them from you.” He spins away and feels Mal reaching for his jacket, the brush of her fingers on his back, but she is in heels and a full gown and she can’t move the way he does.

“Maleficent!” He shouts. “Maleficent!”

By this time, Evie has noticed him and the wand he is waving above his hands. Her own shock allows her mirror to clatter to the ground and Maleficent snarls at her. She would probably try to eat Evie if Carlos weren’t so desperately howling for her attention.

“Carlos!” Evie yells for him. “What are you-?”

“Run!” He snaps at her. Maleficent is eyeing him, the wand in his hand, held high as if he could reach her in her flight. He is up on the stage now, Jay not far from him, but Carlos doesn’t want to loo at Jay.

“C! What-?” Jay grabs his arm and shakes him. “What’s your plan here?” Because Jay hasn’t figured it out. Maybe none of them have. They still think there’s a plan.

Carlos rips himself out of Jay’s grasp and throws the wand as high as he can into the air.

Three identical wails of ‘no!’ fill the air.

Jay clenches the front of Carlos’ shirt, forces him to look at him. “Carlos! What the fuck did you do?”

Carlos listens over Mal and Evie’s shrieking (they might by cursing him, or Maleficent or their own terror), but there is no clattering of the wand hitting the ground. Someone has caught it. Someone with scales and claws and wings.

“I’m sorry.” He exhales. There is no time for apologies, but Jay is shaking him, eyes wide in fright, fright that Carlos caused. “You three need to leave. Now.”

“What did you do?” Jay shouts and keeps shaking him. “What the fuck did you do? Why?”

There is no time for apologies, no time for explanations, no time for their tears.

“Jay!” Carlos shouts and hits his chest. “You three need to leave. Now. Before they get here.” There is a crash and sunlight and a hole in the cement. Maleficent is outside, she had smashed through the wall and Carlos wonders if there were people out there, now crushed under rubble and brick and dead, dead, dead. There is no reversing death, they don’t have time to grieve, but Jay and Mal and Evie are still alive (for now) and they are running out of time. “There are limos outside. They don’t take the keys out and the don’t lock the doors-” because this is Auradon, where no one steals and no one hurts people and no one sides with Maleficent, “-take one and drive.” Carlos pushes Jay toward the stairs and he seems to get it.

Jay grabs the girls by the arms and the three of them take off, leaping over the remnants of the wall as if this were the Isle (how much longer will Auradon stand? How much longer until Auradon and the Isle are one in the same?) and Carlos numbly walks behind them.

Maleficent wanted to be outside for a reason. An old building wouldn’t stop any magic she wanted, Jane proved that when she shot through the ceiling. Maleficent is keeping distance from all of them, almost hiding, which means she saw them as a threat, a group not to underestimate, and maybe Carlos made the wrong choice, but it was his choice and it’s too late to go back on it.

When he reaches outside, there is lightning. It’s not from close by, it’s near the docks, where they first arrived in Auradon after crossing the bridge.

There are skid marks on the street and a limo missing. The limo both behind and in front of the empty spot have huge dents. None of his friends knew how to drive.

Carlos walks to where the dock is. It’s a long walk, but everyone in the cathedral is still frozen and he’s pretty sure all of Auradon was in that building. It’s oddly quiet, save for the distant electrical crackling he’s getting closer and closer to. Carlos inhales and exhales. This will probably be the last bit of quiet for a very long time. The last bit for his hopefully not short life.

He nears the dock and sees how the bridge has materialized. If he squints, he can see people at the other end, people filing out of the Isle for the first time in 20 years.

Maleficent looks over her shoulder at him, even when he’s still a distance away. Carlos had made sure to be quiet. Noise often got him in trouble, but Maleficent smiles at him. He stops just a few feet behind her. She does not acknowledge him further.

“Will you tell her?” He voices into the quiet. “What I did? Will you tell her?”

“I’m sure she saw.” Maleficent tells him without looking at him. “The event was televised even on the Isle. We were all watching it before that mousy girl grabbed the wand. Remind me to make her cage nicer than the rest’s as a show of gratitude.”

Carlos allows his shoulders to sags. Jane is safe, cages mean no one is dying (yet) and it means Carlos isn’t dying (yet) if Malefient has given him an order.

“I appreciate knowing where loyalties lay.” Maleficent drawls. They still have some time before the villains reach them. “Even if your mother is ungrateful, I am not.”

Carlos swallows, but stays quiet.

“You’re much more useful than I first thought. I was wildly displeased that Mal had you as a minion. The other two were fine - strength and charm - but I couldn’t believe she had picked a runt who cleaned for a mentally ill woman.” She scoffs, still never looking at Carlos, a reminder that gratitude does not mean respect. “But you’re clearly the smartest of the group and the most easily controlled.”

Half compliment, half insult. Carlos still stays quiet.

“You’ll be useful to me. Hades knows I can’t work with half the dolts on the Isle - either too stupid or too egotistical - but I appreciate a clever minion.” Finally, Maleficent turns to him, a smirk on her lips. “Your first assignment will be to hunt down my daughter and her friends.”

Carlos tries to keep his face blank, but he must not do a good job because Maleficent’s grin grows. The villains are closer now, cheering for their freedom, small children who didn’t deserve anything like this holding to their parents’ legs.

“Bring them back alive,” Maleficent tells him as she steps forward to greet her wicked companions. “Torturing corpses is no fun.”

#carlos de vil #jaylos #marlos #carvie #rotten four #core four #mal descendants #mal daughter of maleficent #jay descendants #jay son of jafar #evie descendants #evie daughter of the evil queen #maleficent descendants #My writing #filled request #puwaasuru #descendants fanfiction #descendants 1 #descendants

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