#redacted mostly wouldn't be bothered

[rottenraccoons]

I greatly apologize for dropping in a random question but I love your game and I had to ask...How would the love interests react to vesper being T A L L. But like- really really tall and I'm talking 6'3 or more tall.

(Sorry if someone already asked this question but I really needed to know being aware of the fact that they are shorter then the rest of the cast.)

(checks conversion) 6'3" would actually still be shorter than Keir and Cirrus, if you can believe it?

But yeah, I don't think their opinions would change in any especially radical or interesting way? Keir would probably be glad to have someone else who suffers with doorways, Cirrus likes using his height to his advantage so he might be a little less happy. And sweet Francesco likes 'em tall, he would be over the moon (but he's not upset that Vesper is small otherwise).

[digisurvive]

I wish Survive were a better srpg. Most of the time, you don't really have to think hard about what units to include beyond 1) Including Falcomon, the god and 2) Making sure you have the right attribute (which means you're gonna favor the vaccine types, since most enemies are the virus kind).

If you play in hard and only use the kids mons without grinding (except in that piemon fight lol Guilmon clutch...), the route-specific stretches can be a bit more fun since the kenzoku have elemental weaknesses and actually have killer status effects. Keeping in mind the elemental nature of your units' attacks and the equipment you have did make playing Wrathful more fun for me (and the Moral route does have a handful of non-kenzoku difficult fights due terrain and status effects); yet fighting the master and Plutomon (orz) was way too easy still lol

Anyway, I still wish there was more to think about wrt the partnermon as units; Labramon going from support unit to being mostly offensse-based is a really fun thought (Cerberumon also having strong defense —wherein she will still guard even if you pick an action— due the armor really tickles me). But most of the partnermon are all-rounders, and the way they all got only two moves (the physical one and their signature) plus their passive supports makes the experience very half-baked. Kaito's support is about strengthening physical damage, and he's our resident brawler, so it'd be fun if Dracumon and evos reflected this with having more physical attacks and a bit more mobility (but less than Falcomon). Funnily enough, the one partnermon with broken physical attacks is actually Plutomon LMAO To begin with, she has a three-tile range in any direction with it. But if you deploy her alongside Mugendramon, whose passive extends physical attack range, then you get a 4-tile range LOL I wish these kinda combinations were relevant when playing.

[viridwns]

Phantomhive daughter AU has been taking over my brain.

Masterlist

Vincent Phantomhive, the queen's guard dog. London's most eligible bachelor after the death of his wife. A man with a cold heart and cunning smile. Who has wits like no other and two equally smart sons.

The man who can manipulate people into doing things they never thought of doing. Mostly for his benefit.

This man, one of the most powerful people in London if not in the whole of England, has the sweetest, most kind-hearted daughter. An absolute sweetheart who couldn't even hurt a fly. She would help the servants simply to create a bond with them. She got the stubborness from her father and the angelic looks from her mother. A rare gem that the Phantomhive males set their lives on to protect.

She is always at her father's side. If not him, she's with one of the twins. No one has ever seen her alone. Bright young men are betting against each other about who could sweep the little Phantomhive lady off her feet.

No one has been able to do it yet, but just a few stay determined.

Now, with the twins attending Weston College and Vincent being out for business, it's open season for the young men.

Vincent has prepared for this, of course, and set Tanaka on 'protecting' duty. Alas, it is still his daughter, and his wits didn't pass her either. She's even worse with her tricks than Vincent ever was.

She is able to escape the mansion in one way or another, just to finally go outside again after her father left.

Vincent is strict with his daughter, but it doesn't really bother her most of the time.

It's just that when someone has been inside for two weeks, they would like to leave the premise for a bit.

Even if they have to break a few sacred rules to do it.

Daughter Phantomhive is intelligent, but when it comes to the real world, she doesn't have any knowledge of it.

She's too kind to the people on the street, puts too much trust in the shady man trying to sell her stuff.

Usually, Ciel was there to link their arms and fend of any unwanted salesman or just men in general. [Redacted] was there to distract her when Ciel got a bit...too heated.

But now she was on her own, no protection. Open season.

When the gossiping starts that the Phantomhive daughter is walking all alone on the streets, it'll only take minutes before nobles come from left and right to woo the young lady.

She is overwhelmed by the amount of attention, not knowing how to ward them off or how to excuse herself.

If Tanaka wasn't as 'trained' as he is, she would've thrown hands to get out. He found her in no time after he realized she tricked him.

Giving the nobles a stern look (if looks could kill) and guiding lady Phantomhive back to the mansion, he had to contact Vincent. With protests of the rule breaker, he eventually managed to get ahold of Vincent.

He was home in a day.

Goodbye privileges.

Vincent knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up. With his daughter growing older, smarter, and more rebellious, and Vincent being away for business all the time while his boys are at school, he couldn't keep her safe forever.

It was a last resort, but Undertaker was his only solution.

Undertaker would love to watch over precious miss Phantomhive, but alas, he is busy himself with some...project.

Of course, he doesn't like seeing his friend so distraught. So maybe he has another solution , one he isn't fond of himself.

Summoning a demon to protecting his daughter at all times.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

If it wasn't for Undertaker’s obsession interest in the Phantomhive family, he would never have helped with or even suggested this.

Vincent would get his hands red for his daughter. His soul was a cheap price to pay.

Finding a sacrafical lamb wasn't hard to come by as well.

Undertaker left right as the ritual started, not wanting to deal with the demon that was about to appear.

Sebastian.

That was the name of your new butler. The one your father hired to watch over you while he and your brothers were gone.

You had made a light joke about him having the same name as your and your brother's late dog. You had picked it out.

Sebastian only frowned at your remark.

What a great start.

The quite intimidating butler hovered over your shoulder day in and day out. Always ignoring your request for some privacy with a smile. Small talk didn't happen regularly as you chose to ignore the heavy presence of the man.

You tried every trick in your book to get rid of him even if it was only for a private strole through the garden. Sebastian only seemed amused by your attempts and encouraged you to keep trying. No matter what, he would always find you.

You never got angry with him, maybe a little fussy, but never angry. You started to like this cat and mouse game. It was something to keep your mind busy in these lonely days.

Vincent was a bit...stunned to see you hanging onto the chandelier when he got home. You weren't wearing one of the gowns he got you. Instead, you were dressed as a peasant boy. Even had your hair tucked neatly under a hat.

You were trying a new plan. Climb onto the chandelier via the stairs. Hide up there until you were certain Sebastian was at the other side of the mansion, and then go out looking like someone completely different to make it impossible to find you.

Your smile was forced as you awkwardly climbed down the stairs. You hadn't expected your father to come home today. Usually, he would send you a hundred letters asking how you were doing and that he would be home soon. He didn't do any of that on this business trip.

You just hoped he wasn't mad.

To your suprise, he took off the hat and kissed the crown of your head. He walked away with a smile as he waved the hat at you and told you to change.

Huh, guess he thought it was funny.

Your father seemed more at ease with this new butler watching you like a hawk.

Your brothers were a bit on the defense, though.

When it was family visiting weekend at Weston College, they could not stop staring daggers at Sebastian. You told them to be nice, but they argued that they didn't trust him one bit. Your father had to tell them off at one point when Ciel would literally shoo Sebastian away as [Redacted] showed you around the school.

Brothers will be brothers.

It was only when your father had a talk with your brothers behind closed doors (that you totally didn't eavesdrop on by hiding in the secret passageways of your home) that you started to get suspicious of who or what Sebastian was.

Your brothers had accepted the butler after that talk.

Your gut yelled at you even more when your father received yet another envelope stamped with the queen's sigil (that you totally didn't intercept when the mailman came), and shortly after he and Sebastian had some business at Weston College.

This was also the first time you were allowed to come along with your father.

Vincent had some business to do with the principal of the school. Sebastian became an undercover teacher. You had to swear to keep secret while you were trapped yet in another building. This time with everyone on your ass at all times.

Ah well, you were looking for a new challenge anyway.

Especially when four prefects were more than willing to help.

If only you knew their real intentions.

Your father wished you inherited his people reading skills instead of his art for tricking people.

[offorestsongs]

OC INTRODUCTION ❣ JÓZEFINA

BASIC INFORMATION

full name 💍 Józefina [last name redacted] (pronounced: yuu-zeh-FEE-na) nicknames 💍 Józia (friends), Baby Shrimpy (Floyd), Modmoiselle Feu (Rook) species 💍 normal human height 💍 172 cm age 💍 17 y/o birthday 💍 [redacted] gender 💍 trans girl (she/her) sexuality 💍 questioning hometown 💍 normal human world (Poland specifically) dorm 💍 Ramshackle class 💍 A-1 club 💍 Equestrian Club favorite subject 💍 biology dominant hand 💍 right talent 💍singing, braiding other people's hair hobby 💍 learning new instruments favorite food 💍meringues least favorie food 💍 mizeria pet peeve 💍 getting her hair dirty

PERSONALITY

A friendly young lady who's quick to meet new people anywhere she goes. She likes to make new relationships and be amongst crowds, especially when the attention is on her. She wouldn't call herself an attention seeker - she just doesn't like to be ignored, and really, isn't it just natural that everybody's eyes should be on her? Since coming to NRC, she delights every benefit that being labelled as "everybody's little sister" gets her.

Sweet as sugar, always tries to act like a well-behaved and well-mannered, polite lady and expects everyone to uphold the same level of manners. "Tries to act" being the key phrase here; Józefina is impulsive and often acts before a thought can even start forming in her head, resulting in her getting into all sorts of situations a perfect little lady like her definitely shouldn't be. It definitely doesn't help that she's brave to the point of recklessness and infinitely curious - nothing will stop her from discovering the many mysteries of Twisted Wonderland! She just cannot help, but like the thrill of adventure and troublemaking.

Very proud and a bit prissy, easily takes offence, especially if she doesn't know somebody well - it's a deffence mechanism of sorts, as she often expects everyone to do or say the worst thing, and it's hard for her to believe that people could actually take her seriously. She tends to mellow out considerably once she gets closer to somebody and sees that they don't underestimate her or actually have good intentions. However, gaining her trust is not the easiest thing.

Openly showing her emotions, to the point of being theatrical at times... the good ones, at least. The bad ones? Well, that depends on if it benefits her. Thrust into a world she doesn't understand, she's willing to do a lot to ensure her survival, and if it involves overexaggerating her tears to gain other people's sympathy or telling a lie or two? Well, who could blame her? At least, she tends to feel somewhat guilty about it... most of the time.

BACKSTORY

Arrived to Twisted Wonderland during the Spelldrive tournament in book 2, specifically during the "game" that the Hearshackle gang was playing; she accidentally knocked Lysander out by landing on him. The Headmage has allowed her to stay, mostly because Lysander had promised to take the responsibility for her.

Similarly to Lysander, she doesn't have any memories from her previous world. Memories come back to her in flashes, often triggered by physical sensations, though so far, she had managed to remember even less than her dormmate. She's not particularly bothered by it, though, taking her new surroundings in stride.

TRIVIA

it seems that, unlike Lysander, she didn't came from the modern world - she doesn't seem to know much about modern technology. despite that, she's eager to learn and often asks the others about it

she didn't actually know how to ride horses when she had first joined the Equestrian Club - she just liked helping to take care of her, because it calmed her down

knows how to play a few instruments but is the best with a violin

she always dreamed of becoming a famous singer

unlike Lysander, she's a disaster in the kitchen

she's afraid of heights (which posed a bit of a problem when she tried to learn horse riding)

she cares a lot for her hair and usually doesn't let other people touch it, unless she's close with them and trusts them

she also really loves to put bows in her hair

she actually prefers to be called by her full name, because "Józia" is very cutesy and kinda childlish, but most people can't pronounce it correctly so she just kinda gave up (not that they can pronounce Józia correctly either...)

Azul tried to get her to sing at the Mostro Lounge a few times, but she always refuses untill he "pays her what she's worth" (whatever that means remains to be determined)

CARDS

[SSR] Playful Land

dividers. template.

[practically-an-x-man]

From @hawthorne-spengler-stantz's tag for me on this post

Pick your characters and give them a book filled with every thought anyone ever had about them. What would they read first? The positive or the negative ones? The thoughts of people they actually know or a stranger’s thought?

Rae: Refuses to even open the book. For one thing, she wouldn't want people to read the thoughts she's had about them, that feels vaguely like an invasion of her mind, so she'd want to extend the same courtesy. And for another, she doesn't want her mind to get stuck on what other people think.

Robin: Comes up with a few set rules for herself before opening the book. She will not look at thoughts from friends or family, only strangers - she doesn't want it to affect any of her close relationships, no matter how curious she may be.

Madison: Goes on a seek-and-destroy mission for her parents' thoughts. She can't help the curiosity, she needs to know what they think of her after what happened with Johnny, and if they'll ever forgive her.

Ophelia: The book is mostly entertainment for her - she'll flip through the thoughts of strangers who have seen her as Argonaut, most of them are like reading crappy Yelp reviews and she finds it funny. Sometimes, if she has a really bad day, she'll flip through her mother's of Harry's thoughts for a while to ward off the grief.

Jasper: Doesn't bother looking at the book. They can sense others' emotions, so they already have a general sense of what people think of them, and they really don't need the specifics. They only ever (ever) look at one small section of the book - Kyle's thoughts when he was first brought back, when he was still struggling to communicate. They knew there was a lot he wanted to say to them... so why not see what it was that he wanted to say?

Quinn: Reads through the whole book, she doesn't care what people think of her. Some of Lex's old thoughts hurt (she didn't know how jealous and vengeful Lex really was, or how long she'd been planning for what happened in Kyiv), but they're made up by learning how early Billy's feelings for her started - about the same time she started developing feelings for him, actually. And she gets a kick out of the strangers' thoughts, though she later ends up going in with a permanent marker and redacting the worst of the transphobic ones.

Kestrel: Originally considers reading the book, hoping it would help them convince their mind that they made an impact on the world and people around them (something they struggle with). But then they realize that could very quickly lead to a rabbithole of obsession on other people's thoughts, so it's safest not to touch it. They even go so far as to bury it in the backyard - they really, really don't want that temptation.

Katherine: Ahk's section is, quite literally, half the book. He spends a lot of time thinking about her, especially when he's sitting through the daylight hours each day. Katherine reads the first page... then pauses and sets herself a stopping point. It's not fair to him that she read everything, that's a bit invasive, so she only reads up to the moment she learned the secret of the museum. That felt... maybe not fully fair, but at least a somewhat-justified stopping point - she said all her thoughts to him when she visited, not knowing he was listening, so it's not awfully unfair to read that section of his thoughts in return. She also flips through the thoughts of her old bullies, too curious for her own good, and found that a lot of their taunting just came from a mountain of insecurity.

Eris: Their book is massive from how long they've been alive, but most people in it only get a line or two since Eris rarely makes longer connections. He can't help but look through Rick's section, though. It's the only one that takes up any significant amount of pages itself, and Eris is stunned to learn how deeply he really cares about them.

Nikoletta: Flips through the thoughts of everyone at Belle Reve, and uses it as a guide to managing her status and knowing who's really loyal to her. Most of the thoughts are neutral at best, while some people are outright imagining what they'd do to her if they had the chance... those thoughts do frighten her, a bit. By the time she gets to Abner's section, she's surprised at how soft it is compared to the rest. He's about the only person who hasn't plotted her demise, even offhandedly - hell, even Adrian (her right-hand man) has wondered briefly about whether he could be the King of Belle Reve if he took care of the Queen. Thankfully that thought didn't stick.

[dusterson]

Eddie sighed, "my grades are because I'm an [r-slur],numbers come naturally." He used the slur so casually, it was a result of growing up having it screamed at him by teachers for his undiagnosed learning disability. "That's the same thing Chrissy said...did you expect be to be scary?" He wouldn't say it, but realising the way he dressed and the music he enjoyed made him seem scary and intimidating bothered him, he thought of himself as a protector and pacifist, he didn't want to be scary.

"It's not 'cos you're [redacted] don't, fuckin', say shit like that about yourself, okay you're, just..." Dustin scratched the underside of his scalp. "You're not [redacted], Eddie, okay." Then his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

He wasn't used to saying that word around others. About others.

"I mean, at first I was, pretty intimidated by you? Not gonna lie?" One hand raised to continue scratching. "But not, like, afraid of you, I mostly just, didn't wanna, fuck up, you know? 'Cos honestly I, didn't wanna disappoint you."

Righting his posture he added, "And if you're feeling insecure about your dungeon mastering, I literally bow to you. Okay, that shit is reserved for introductions and respect." For a moment Dustin just eyed him, concerned sternness carved into his face and hunching his shoulders. "So... what's-- is this about..?"

He didn't even want to put to words anything that had transpired. The deaths. The mobs. The Upside-Down. None of it. "Is this about her?" he asked quietly.

[thornstocutyouwith]

Name: Isaiah Marwin Knight

Meaning of Name:  Isaiah: God saves. Marwin: Famous friend. Knight: Noble, soldier.

Nickname(s):  Izzy, Isa, Marry,��

Age: Wouldn't you like to know.

Birthday: October 31

Species/Nationality:  Allblood (Human-Cat Humanoid)/Luxembourger

Accent: Yes

Language spoken: English, German, 

Powers:

Splintercat Physiology

Baobhan Sith Physiology

Kinetic Accumulation

Fire Teleportation

Treasure Creation

Fragility Inducement

Bio-Nature Manipulation

Power-Granting Blood/Conversion Blood/Cursed Blood (Combined and selective, mostly cursed.)

Enhanced Intelligence

Supernatural Speed

Supernatural Stealth

Weaknesses/Illness/Allergies: -REDACTED INFORMATION-, Prone to head injuries, Often vulnerable to cold iron and other charms that work on fairy types, Can be harmed by holy relics or prayers, Weak against Energy Negation, May only generate a certain amount/type of treasure (As it takes a toll on his body), 

Pet: Pet Miniature Sheep (Fenrir, Male)

Occupation: Cartoonist

Faceclaim: Daniel Brühl

Description: Light brown, short, messy hair. Blue eyes. Has 2 piercings. 

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry: Wears innocent looking, autumn colored clothing. Has 5 accessories. 

Height: 5’7”

Weight: 129

Body Build: Average

Backstory/Background:

Isaiah’s birth and first few years of life have been lost to the annals of time, or so it could be assumed. One day he had just seemed to appear at a strange boarding school. Or so this would be what was said of his arrival at the school. Isaiah would be brought up in this school, alongside its students. He would soon enough discover that he had an odd quirk with him. That was, he would be forced to change his shape on a bi-weekly basis. This would bother him so much that for the week he was forced to be in a different form, he would hide away from the rest of the world. Along with this reason, he would be experimented on at the school, because he had a ‘particularly rare’ ancient bloodline coursing through his veins. What he would learn was an “Allblood”. 

This bloodline had been traced back nearly to the beginning of humankind's original existence. As well as many other supernatural beings. Along with this fact, it seemed that, out of all the bloodlines that did exist, this seemed to be a part of them all, and could so, those with enough of it in them, could be spliced into other beings. Many times over, even. The scientist experimenting on him would also very quickly discover that the child had ‘cursed’ blood, which was also often linked to his rare and ancient bloodlines, itself. As the child grows he goes out and explores his surroundings more. Discovering rather quickly that the people in the town he lives in are not actually very good people, and tend to commit, or ignore rampant murdering or other types of violence.

Due to living at the boarding school Isaiah had felt an attachment and loyalty to those that attended the school. He would see the authoritative people in the school more like parental figures. As well, he would see the students as if they were his siblings. This would be his life for the most part, in his little town, in his boarding school. Mostly going without exposure to the world outside of it. Soon enough he would also come to discover that his school was being funded by the very same people who were running Area 51. Of course, as a boy, he could not have known the significance of Area 51. So this fact did not dawn on him until much later in his life. Though when he is six years old this has more meaning in his life.

At six everyone at the school would be put in a different kind of experimental trial. This would be splicing their DNA with other creatures. Isaiah is selected as one of the subjects submitted to this experiment due to his having the special bloodline. After this he is set to be spliced with Cat DNA. The change was a painful one. But he does manage to survive and get through it. As well he is able to heal through some vampire blood, donated to their efforts. As there is a large population of vampires, Isaiah knows many himself. Many who do care about him. However one day while he is out training he comes across someone. Before he can do anything about it he becomes tired and soon falls into a deep sleep, unable to stop the other.

When he next wakes up he finds that the school has been destroyed and he has seemed to have been spared death by being taken far enough away from it that he would not also die. As he tries to find out what has happened he comes across the destroyed remains of the school and the body’s of his former ‘siblings’ and ‘parents’. At least, many of them anyway. This is where he stays for some years. Though as he explores the remains of the now destroyed boarding school. While doing so he comes across his own file in a cabinet. One that stays is that he was kidnapped from a famous family of hunters and brought to the school, when he was two years old. After finding this out and that his family, not long after his kidnapping in fact, had been massacred, he was filled with disgust toward the school. 

Confused about his life and what he needed to do now, he felt immediately like escaping the school’s grounds. No longer wanting to live in its burnt out destroyed skeleton. After he leaves the school he travels to New York, where he comes to set down roots for a time being. Not long after moving to New York he learns about the high profile gang life going on in the city. Which has become something of infamy. Isaiah doesn’t join these gangs. Though he has seen and interacted with members from each. As it is hard not to do so. Sometimes the gangs have competitions and such interactions, and at times even fight each other. Underground, it is very much the same, only there are less humans and more supernatural wars going on. Isaiah still tries his best not to get involved with these things.

Eventually it gets to be so inconvenient living in the city. Due to all the gangs and warring going on, Isaiah decides he wants to go live a more reclusive life. Doing so allowed his own abilities to continue to manifest even more so. At only 21 years of age he has made a life for himself in a forest somewhere away from the city. Though as he is journeying through the forest to find a place to settle he comes across a barrier. It was hidden from human eyes and other such ways to enter or see/hear it, for many years. But because of his ancient bloodline and the splice of his DNA Isaiah has found a way inside, easily, actually. Being new people living within the barrier are apprehensive when seeing him. Then he is informed why this is so. It was because those inside of it were hidden from the human world. Within the barrier Isaiah discovered that many territories have grown over the years. Along with the many species that were once forced to be sealed away. Isaiah eventually comes to find this barrier a place to call home.

(Work In Progress)

Personality:

Polished, Leisurely, Reflective, Winning, Appreciative, Well-rounded, Clean, Sage, Physical, Crisp, Restrained, Pure, Earthy, Questioning, Modern, Skeptical, Prim, Phlegmatic, Over Imaginative, Fatalistic, Disorganized, Strong-willed,

Quirks/Savvies/Other: Goes right when told to go left and so on and so forth, Won’t wear any clothing with the color black green, Recites strange facts, Annoyed by wrestling, Literal Mindedness, Volunteers for animals shelters just to spend time with the animals, Excessively optimistic, Prone to tripping over his feet when he runs, Loses his appetite when he’s nervous, Low Stamina, Skills: Stage Magic, Marksmanship, Sewing, Explosives, Boating, Adaptability, Hobbies: Table Tennis, Spray Painting, Skydiving, Dioramas, Confectionary, Bird Watching, Railway Studies, Basketball, Inventing Things, Bingo, Psychology, 3D Printing, Sports Memorabilia Collecting, Sun Bathing, Soccer, Camping, Windsurfing, Welding, Crosswords, Rock Climbing, Visiting Zoos, Surfing, Bicycling,     

Likes: Blanket Forts, Baths, Hot Air Balloons, Falling Leaves, Metalworking, Making Lists, Storm Chasing, Playing in snow, Black Panther, Archeology, Rugged Action Heroes, Centaurs, Gardens, Ghost Hunting, Being touched on the back, Being Barefoot, Crime Podcasts, Going to the Movies, Magic, Cop Shows, Seashells, Mathematics, Country Music, Documentaries, Roses, Alchemy, The color Orange, Comedy Movies, 

Dislikes: Romcom Movies, Robotics, Drama, Stationary, PDA, Riddles, Extravagant Things, Fast Rides, Stuffed Animals, Writing Letters, Shopping, Youtube, Detective Stories, Bats, Alternative Music, Stories about plucky young magic users, Exterior Design, 

Fears: Spiders,

Personality Tests:

Other: Scorpio,   

Parent(s):

   -> Father:

   -> Mother:

Sibling(s):

Other Relatives: Lucas Knight, Ewan Knight, Gavin Knight, Jason Knight, Perceval Knight-Coldblood, Shia Knight, Nicolas Knight, Miles Knight,

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

                                                            Alternate Universes

[arinbelle]

Made (Nessian Mafia AU)

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a light-hearted chapter and kind of funny towards the end when [redacted] but then I realized, no, I want to make it dark and gritty and keep driving the plot forward, especially since it’s been mostly vibes lately. Thank you so much to @bookstantrash for listening to my very long, very wild ideas for what I planned to do this chapter, especially since I then didn’t do them :/. As always, I hope you enjoy!!! Reblogs and comments are always welcome and very appreciated.

Warnings: Violence, language

Masterlist here!

~*~

Part XII

“I breathe when you breathe, I bleed when you bleed. I’m yours and you’re mine. you’ve always been mine, and I have always, always belonged to you!”- Cassandra Clare

~*~

Gwyn adjusted the veil atop Nesta's head, flaring out the bottom, artfully arranging it to follow her regally as she walked down the aisle.

"You look beautiful," Emerie noted, meeting Nesta's eyes in the mirror. But there was no emotion there, beneath the compliment. Not a trace of happiness in either of their faces.

And that wouldn't do.

"Would it kill either of you to smile a little more? Your best friend is getting married you know." Nesta touched up her lipstick one last time, looking at the woman in the mirror that looked nothing like her, and yet everything like her at the same time. A perfect pawn.

Her makeup artist had opted for a nude palette on her eyes and a hint of contour and highlight on her face. The white dress, the white veil and the white flowers really added to the virginal look she knew was expected of her. But Nesta had drawn the line at the peach lipstick, not even bothering to fight with the woman as she finished applying mascara. She’d only given her the cheque for the work she’d done, thanked her graciously, and bid her farewell. The woman had pursed her lips at the color Nesta pulled out instead, but she’d walked out quietly.

The ruby color that she’d dabbed generously on her lips was certainly a statement. Perhaps not one that the people in the Church would appreciate, especially not Beron and perhaps not Eris either. But Nesta didn’t care. She remembered the cufflinks Cassian sometimes wore with his suit, the bloodred color they gave off when light hit them. The color he also loved to see on her when he undressed her, she’d later found out. It had become a game then, to send him photos sometimes in just the right lighting, obscuring anything too provocative, but teasing just enough in lingerie the color of desire.

Even if this was the only rebellion she could manage to do, it would have to be enough.

“The marriage is a sham,” Emerie reminded her. 

Nesta scowled.  “So is every one else’s in that Church. So was our parents’. Why-”

Gwyn cut her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I think what Em is trying to say is that...this isn’t what you would have picked, is it Nesta? If you had a choice I mean.”

Nesta turned around, facing her two best friends in the otherwise quiet room. She could faintly make out soft piano playing the level below which is where she would soon be entering to walk down the aisle in.

“I don’t have a choice,” Nesta said resolutely. Better to accept it now. She’d filled her friends in on everything from the night the proposal had been announced. Her father’s debts, her work for Nolan, what the marriage would settle for her...

Nesta found that with the finality of everything happening now, if even Eris knew all her secrets, Gwyn and Em deserved to know now. At first they’d been shocked. Then furious with her. And of course, they’d tried to convince her to back out of the agreement, going so far as to say that they’d help her with her father’s debts. Nesta had refused both, knowing full well that the contract was airtight and neither of her friends made enough money to help her anyways.

A knock at the door sounded and Nesta’s father called out to her from the other side. “It’s time girls.”

Emerie shook her head, storming out and Gwyn managed a weak smile as she too followed her out. Their lilac dresses billowed behind them as they made their way to the aisle where they would lead first, followed by the flower girl who was Eris’ niece, and then Nesta and her father.

“You look beautiful, Nesta,” her father said as a greeting as she warily took his arm, adjusting the flare of her gown one last time.

“Thanks,” she said offhandedly, more concerned with getting through the ceremony quickly so she could sit down and drop the pretense. 

Nesta began walking but her father didn’t, and their linked arms pulled her back.

“What?”

Her father frowned at her, scanning her face with worry that she’d never seen before. Worry that perhaps her angry heart hadn’t let her see.

“Why are you doing this?”

Nesta rolled her eyes, not answering, pulling on his arm to start walking. She could hear the organs begin playing, cueing her to enter soon. But her father didn’t budge.

“I have to go! If you don’t let me, I’ll walk myself down instead. Alone.”

Her father wasn’t at all affected by her threat, only pursing his lips, the creases under his eyes wrinkling further. 

When had that happened? When had she ever properly looked at him though? The age that was finally beginning to show. The hair that was no longer dark, but lightening with wisps of white and gray.

“You don’t love that man, Nesta.”

Nesta scoffed, looking away. “Love has nothing to do with it.”

He laughed at that, and Nesta startled at the sound. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had ever laughed with her. She’d never let him talk to her enough to let it happen.

“I think many people would disagree with that sentiment. Love is the soul of a marriage. It’s the beating heart, if you will. Without it, it’s just a signed certificate and joint mortgage.” He laughed at his own joke, but Nesta didn’t share in the humor. Instead, she let bitter resentment boil up instead.

“You’re trying to tell me that you and mom love each other?”

He blinked, not even slightly angry at her accusation. Or insult. “I love your mother very much, Nesta.”

“She didn’t seem to agree when she was cheating on you and left us all to rot.”

She saw her words hit him and the damage they caused. But he still didn’t fight back. “She came back.”

“And that makes it okay? She doesn’t care about us, and I’m pretty sure you don’t either, because if you did you never would have stepped foot in that gambling den and lost all our money.”

Her father let her go. “I thought you moved past that. We all did.”

“Really?,” Nesta hissed. She threw her flowers to the floor. “And how did you manage that with all the debt you racked up? With the knowledge that when Mom left and you completely checked out, it was Feyre who was keeping herself and Elain fed. Because your generous cousin was asking for rent from a fucking child and you couldn’t even be bothered to check up on them after CPS took them away. I mean, your kids were taken away by CPS for fuck’s sake. How did you think any one of us moved past that?”

Her father’s eyes guttered. “You weren’t here for that. You were at your private school. You have no idea what-”

Nesta interrupted. “Yeah. I left. I’m the selfish bitch that ran away. I accept it. But I wasn’t the parent, you were. And when mom left, it was supposed to be up to you to step up. Not your kids. So fuck you for that. And fuck you for today and what I have to do.”

She grabbed her flowers from the floor and began making her way back down the hallway, only to be stopped once again by her father’s arm tugging her back.

“What do you mean? Nesta, why did you agree so quickly to this wedding?”

“Let me go.” But he didn’t, and Nesta suddenly got a glimpse of the Enforcer her father had once been as he held her with strength she didn’t know he had, and guided her back to the small alcove where she’d left from.

True fear like nothing she’d ever seen before in his eyes struck her just as he asked her, “What did you do Nesta?”

Nesta clenched her teeth. Set her jaw.

“What did you do?”

“The better question is what you didn’t do, dad. What, did you think all that money you owed and all the work you let go would just magically erase itself? Everything has a price.”

“It did erase itself,” he insisted. “Nolan granted forgiveness when I came back to work for him. Our accounts have been cleared for years. We’re doing just fine financially, so if you’re worried about that, and that’s why you’re marrying into the Cosa Nostra, rethink it. You don’t need to.”

To tell him the truth or not ended up being an easy decision. After all, after today she was probably never going to see her family again. And at the very least her sisters would be safe from owing Nolan anything.

Nesta’s father seemed to shrink as she told him everything. The hefty amount of money he had indeed still owed, the training she had been put through to work as an Enforcer, doing the high-risk jobs none of the others in the Outfit dared to do, and eventually the contract. His eyes dimmed out completely as she told him about it and what would happen if she backed out. Possibly, Elain or Feyre would be thrown into her shoes, or the debts would return twofold, or both for even attempting sabotage.

Nesta checked her hair in the hallway mirror beside them, covering the veil to her face, and then began walking. The flowers she’d thrown to the ground hung raggedly in her hand, looking as dejected as she felt. Her father hurried behind her, barely catching up in time to wind his arm through hers as they entered the main hallway and the wedding planner opened the doors to the chapel room. She kept her eyes straight ahead and to her relief, her father wisely stayed silent.

Some small part of her clawed its way forward and guilt gnawed in her stomach for the fight she’d just had with her father. Possibly the last words she’d ever speak to him in a long time. Maybe forever.

But thoughts of regret and guilt faded away as soon as her hand was being placed in Eris’ outstretched one, cold as ice against hers. It was jarring to feel skin that was actually colder than hers. Terrifying. Nesta suddenly dashed a look around the room, sneaking it in as she walked the few steps up to the dais and faced the priest.

He hadn’t come. Neither had his brothers. Yet, it seemed that the entire rest of the Cosa Nostra had shown up, besides of course the man she actually wanted there. 

“Nesta,” Eris murmured, pulling her gently towards him, and turning them to the priest. The priest began talking, droning on in her opinion, and she already started to drown him out. She nodded every few seconds after Eris did, but she had no idea what she was agreeing to, especially ten minutes into whatever the man was preaching.

Bullshit about love and honor and respect, and above all else, respecting one’s husband. Because of course, even in the 21st century, when Nesta was a trained killer that could probably take on more than half the men in the room, when she had more than just a shoddy high school diploma, she would never be considered more than the ring on her finger and the man it chained her to. 

Nesta peeked a glance at Eris. The perfectly coiffed hair, the cold boredom freely on his face. She was just another pawn in another man’s schemes, even if she was trying and failing to convince herself otherwise. 

She couldn’t wait to get out of the dress. She’d loved it when she’d first bought it, but while it was gorgeous on the outside, the inside ruffles scratched against her bare legs, and the weight itself was making her sweat. She shouldn’t even be sweating considering it was freezing in the chapel, courtesy of whatever idiot had cranked down the A.C. to near chilling. But even though she had no interest in Eris, and the normal butterflies of what she assumed came from marrying someone you actually wanted weren’t there, she was still on edge. 

“Turn to each other please,” the priest instructed, continuing on his litany of the story of how Nesta and Eris had met, and the love that had grown from them. Bullshit again. There was definitely something between Eris and her, and Nesta was fully convinced it was just antagonism and spite. Nothing good could grow from it.

Nesta blocked it out again, even as Eris fixated his gaze on her. Instead, she focused behind him, to the glass window of the chapel and the sunny day it was outside. She could see a car, gleaming black pull up and park right outside at what she was sure was the back entrance. She wondered if someone was still coming to the wedding, even though she was almost already married. 

Someone moved in the car, and suddenly the passenger door was swinging open, revealing Azriel as he stepped out. Nesta jolted slightly, and as Eris nodded at whatever the priest had said. The prick seemed to chastise her with a glare. His hands, holding her own, seemed to tighten warily, and Nesta controlled herself. The emotions threatening to bubble over.

If Azriel was here…Cassian had to be. She saw Azriel move past the view from where she could see him, leaving only the car idling behind. Would he come inside? Would Cassian if he were here too? 

“Nesta,” Eris muttered under her breath tightly through his teeth.

She was snapped out of her reverie as Eris repeated her name, this time urgently, glancing his eyes quickly around them. She peeked around as well and realized that everyone was staring at her expectantly. Only her.

“Say I do,” Eris muttered, tightening his grip around her fingers. It was almost a warning and she could see him dart a fearful glance towards the pew where his father was seated. She knew that look. She’d probably sported it herself more times than she could count whenever her mother was in the same room with her.

“Nesta,” Eris said again, except there was something else there in his expression when she looked up at him. Pleading rather than the cruel calculation she’d gotten used to getting from him.

What would he lose if she said no? Bowed out right now and walked away? Had she been wrong in her assumptions about the importance of this marriage for just her and not him, and how much they both had to lose from it being called off?

“I…” The breath in her throat seemed to be caught, the very air thinning around her it seemed, as the question everyone had waited for was suddenly happening.

She wasn’t ready. It was too soon. Maybe it wasn’t even right. But all Nesta knew, in that moment, as she stared at Eris, expectant and nervous, and the priest behind them, anxious and confused, was that she didn’t know what to do.

She took a step closer to Eris, speaking softly enough so that only he could hear. 

“I don’t know if-”

“No,” he cut her off just as quietly, leaning his head down towards her. “Don’t finish that sentence. Now’s not the time. Don’t fuck this up for me Nesta. We’ll talk later, but do not do anything rash right now. Neither of us will survive the fall out from whatever it is you’re thinking you’re doing.”

With that, Eris straightened up, and nodded to the priest. “Ask her again,” he commanded.

Nesta’s hands went clammy as the priest, looking a little green from Eris’ request, nodded shakily.

“Do you, Nesta Archeron, accept Eris Vanserra as your lawfully wedded husband, to love, to respect, to obey, in the covenant of holy matrimony, through sickness and health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

I’m ready to give you all of me. I’ve been ready to be yours for so long. Be mine.

Nesta tried to quiet the reminder in her head, the confession Cassian had given her all those months ago that she’d forced herself to ignore. But for all the bravado she could usually muster, she somehow managed to stay silent.

“Nesta for God’s sake,” Eris started, cutting himself off at the dirty look the priest shot him. He snarled quietly under his breath. “For everyone’s sake, but yours and mine in particular, answer. I get that you don’t listen, but for once, just do as you’re told.”

You always do as you’re told? 

Cassian had challenged her with that question from the very first day, and somehow, someway, here he was still haunting her even all these years later.

Eris waited a few more moments but Nesta couldn’t speak. Possibly couldn’t move as memory after memory assaulted her senses and mind.

Cassian. His voice. His words. His scent. The way he held her when they were together. The way he challenged her. The one she could always count on whenever she called. 

A friend. A lover. Everything in between the two and more.

Eris’ restraint seemed to have snapped. He dropped her hands and they fell listlessly at her sides. 

“Just finish it so we can get on with this.”

“She hasn’t agreed yet,” the man insisted, his black robe billowing from the jolt that seemed to go through the priest as he responded.

“Who gives a fuck?” 

Murmuring dissolved throughout the church at that and Nesta fought with herself to not make the mistake of looking out and seeing all the questioning, judgemental eyes on them.

The priest seemed appalled at Eris and Nesta almost laughed at the absurdity. This was a man on the payroll of the mob, but falsely officiated marriages was apparently where he drew the line. 

Eris fumed at the silence he was getting from both her and the poor man in charge of marrying them.

“She’s going to be my wife,” he began speaking calmly. Nesta wasn’t easily unnerved by Eris but she swore she felt a shudder course through Gwyn standing behind her. “She’s wearing my ring. She’s wearing the dress that I paid for. We have the lawyer here with us to sign the certificate right after. She’s going to go to get her last name changed to mine tomorrow. She will be my wife before the day is out, so Father,” Eris growled out, “either help me or I’ll find someone else who can.”

You are mine. Today. Tomorrow. Ten years from now. A ring and a wedding doesn’t change shit about it.

Nesta had heard enough. She took a step back from Eris, from the flustered priest, then down the few stairs away from even Gwyn and Em who looked alarmed.

“What are you doing?,” Eris demanded. Nesta took the veil off from her head, throwing it to the ground along with the diamond encrusted clip it had been held to in her hair. Gasps, likely from her mother more than anyone else, sounded around her, and what had once been carefully concealed whispers exploded into a much louder buzzing through the air.

Eris took a step towards her menacingly. “Come back here, Nesta. We don’t have time for this.” He extended a hand out to her and Nesta took an involuntary step back. She felt a hand at her back dig into her shoulders, rooting her to the spot, and then pushing forward.

Her mother hissed in her ear. “Don’t you dare. This is not a match that you can pass up, nor will I allow you to try. Get back up there, now.”

Nesta saw her sisters stand up from the corner of her eye and she turned to look at them. Elain looked concerned but to her surprise, it was Feyre who looked more worrisome. There was a storm brewing in her eyes and as they shared a glance, Nesta knew that if she really chose to walk out at that moment, Feyre would have her back.

It was exactly at that moment then, that Nesta fortified her decision. She’d figure out a contract loophole another way, maybe even take Cassian’s help and hire his lawyers to look for her. But she wouldn’t marry Eris. 

Couldn’t.

Not when her heart lay elsewhere, with another man, who she didn’t even know she could face anymore after what she’d almost done.

Nesta put enough of her strength into the push she made against her mother’s hold on her, and the world exploded around her.

Smoke filled the room quicker than she’d thought possible and she struggled to set herself upright again. The force of whatever had gone off had thrown her to the ground, along with a few other people. She heard people screaming, heard the bustling rush of people moving and trying to escape. Nesta threw off her heels and looked around at the grey, leaden air. She could barely make out actual faces, just vague shapes milling around her, shouting in Italian and English to get out.

Somewhere further in the chapel she heard rapid fire gunshots go off, echoing off the walls and mingling with the added screaming as panic doubled in the room.

Her sisters were nowhere near her and even though she staggered blindly towards an approximate area of where they’d been seated, she found nothing. Her parents were nowhere to be found either.

And her groom-to-be, though not an urgent concern for her, was also missing.

Nesta began moving slowly, ears still ringing slightly from the blast, grasping along chairs as she navigated pathetically towards where she thought she saw outside light blazing. A warm weight fell against her, wrapping itself around her arm and Nesta nearly pushed it off until she heard Azriel’s voice in her ear.

“Are you okay?”

Nesta had to shout over the noise to answer. “What do you think?”

She could just barely make out his face, and while she could be mistaken, she was sure he seemed to give her a “fair enough” look. He was the one who began steering them through the pandemonium around them, since Nesta could barely keep upright. The smoke, slowly but surely, was beginning to clear up, more so as they navigated closer to wherever light was coming into the church.

“My sisters,” she pulled Azriel to a stop, a feat in her tight dress and the fact that the very air had just been knocked out of her chest.

Azriel barely stopped, only slowing slightly and pulling her along. “Feyre and Elain got out in the back with Rhys. They’re fine.”

Nesta didn’t ask about her parents and because Azriel didn’t offer up any information, she knew she didn’t want to hear the answer anytime soon. 

Nesta tripped on something that felt eerily like a prone leg and Azriel barely caught her and himself before setting themselves upright again. 

He cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry about this. This wasn’t the plan,” he said into her ear.

Nesta held onto the sleeve of his jacket tighter as she puzzled over his apology. Another round of gunshots went off behind them and Nesta quickened her step along with Azriel’s.

“You blew up my wedding?”

“No! Well, I mean we were going to blow it up. Sort of. Not like this though. This is…shit.” Nesta grabbed Azriel tighter as another round of booming sounds went off around them, and they both ducked. When nothing fell in on them, Azriel made the first move to keep them pushing forward.

Nesta coughed and she knew the smoke around her was doing her no good. If they didn’t leave the chapel soon…she didn’t want to think that far ahead.

“We didn’t exactly plan it out this far ahead,” Azriel added after they bumped painfully into something hard and splintered and Nesta yelped.

“Did you plan it out at all?,” Nesta hollered angrily over the noise.

Azriel was saved from answering as they emerged from the smoke and into the bright daylight of the outside world. Nesta coughed again, violently, and she could make out Azriel sputtering beside her as well.

His hand slipped from her waist as she doubled over, coughing harder, and even though the brightness of the day was making it difficult for her to see much without keeping her eyes squinted, she knew she was about to hit the pavement. Hard.

Except it never came. Strong, muscled arms wrapped itself around her waist in lieu of Azriel’s disappearance and let her fall into the solid, warm person attached.

“I got you, bella. I’m here,” he whispered against her brow as she sagged in relief against him.

“Cassian,” she started, only to be shushed by him. 

“Don’t talk. Just breathe in some air. Get her some water Az. Please.” A flurry of activity was going on around her but Nesta could only focus on the masculine scent that had enveloped her senses and was holding her close. 

God, how she’d needed him earlier. And how he had come to the rescue, just as he always did.

Nesta pressed closer against him and Cassian had needed to coax her away with water that she had no interest in drinking, but needed according to him. He’d held her chin and raised the bottle to her lips and she’d managed a few sips before keeling over and spitting it back out. Cassian had remained patient as she tried again, this time managing to keep it down and swallow fully.

“We need to go,” she heard Rhys’s voice beside them. “They’ll be looking for her.”

Cassian didn’t stop rubbing his hand along her back, or holding her almost limp form up, but he did seem to stiffen and that woke Nesta up from whatever smoke-induced haze she’d been under.

All eyes turned to her and Nesta saw Feyre and Elain behind Rhys, standing arm in arm, wearily watching her. 

“You need to go,” Rhys repeated, this time to her only.

Nesta looked at her sisters but before anything could be said, it was Azriel who stepped out from seemingly shadows and spoke. “We’ll take care of them. You and Cassian need to get out of here. There’s a war brewing and Beron will come for you both. Nolan too.”

“And the Irish,” Rhys added with a grimace, pointing to his side where Nesta finally noticed a streak of red splashed over the white shirt.

Cassian startled. “What-”

“Beddor,” Rhys supplied. “He got me but it’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”

Nesta couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Clare’s father shot you?”

Cassian tensed, about to speak, but before he could, Rhys spoke instead. “It was me. I ordered the hit on him.” He looked at Nesta imploringly, and before he even said the words, Nesta knew the truth. “I was the one that got Clare killed. Accidentally, but…it was me. Cassian didn’t tell you because he’s my brother and, you were set on vengeance. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me, not him.”

Nesta didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Deep down she’d always known that she may not want to know who had been behind Clare’s murder, because she’d known Cassian had chosen to protect them, which had to mean it was someone he was close to. She’d partially let it go, let herself go numb from the grief, especially as everything else in her life had imploded and had become a welcome distraction. 

And to her shock, she couldn’t find it in herself to hate Rhysand. Not when she saw the regret in his eyes or the apology behind them. A mistake. That’s what Cassian had told her it had been all those months ago, but she hadn’t wanted to accept it.

After a few tense moments, Nesta nodded at Rhys, and focused on the ground instead.

Cassian tightened his hold on her, as if he were afraid she may disappear from sight if he didn’t hold on properly. “What does he have to do with the Irish?”

Nesta knew the answer but was too tired to say it. The only thing that made sense in this shit show. 

Azriel spared them all.

“He’s turned on the Chicago Outfit. He’s their mole. I’m guessing some sort of agreement between him and the Irish to go after us, Rhys specifically, since his out organization was planning a truce between us and them with Nesta’s marriage.”

“How did he know to go after you though?,” Nesta directed the question at Rhys, ignoring Cassian’s surprised stare as he looked at her.

“We have a leak too I think,” Rhys admitted without hesitance. To Cassian he said, “We’re working on figuring out who it is, but in the meantime, you two really do need to go. Get away until things calm down, and we’ll tell you when to come back.”

Cassian nodded and started to move, but Nesta held fast. 

“My parents,” she finally asked hoarsely.

Feyre stepped away from Elain and Cassian let go of Nesta as her youngest sister held onto her.

“You need to go now, Nesta. Elain and I will be safe-”

Nesta cut her off. “Mom and Dad, Feyre. Where are they?”

The silence seemed to drone on forever until finally Elain joined her two sisters, and held Nesta in a tight embrace. When she let go, Nesta almost had to look away to avoid meeting the look in Elain’s eyes that withheld the news she was so afraid to hear.

“Dad’s fine,” Elain started, eyes darting to Feyre almost in a plea to help her. 

Feyre finished for her, placing a hand on Nesta’s shoulder before delivering the blow of the truth. 

“Mom was injured in the explosion. They’re both in the hospital but Dad’s only there to stay with her. I don’t want to lie to you Nesta, so I won’t. It doesn’t look too good for mom.” Nesta sucked in a ragged breath but Feyre kept going. “I know you think you need to stay here and take care of us. And I know part of that is because of me and you trying to make up for something that was out of all our hands at the time. So I’m telling you, right now, please go. Come back when it’s safer and we’ll both be here waiting for you.”

Nesta didn’t let herself cry in front of them, not if God forbid this was the last time she ever saw them again. But she did return Elain’s hug, passing it onto Feyre as well, and murmuring warnings to both of them to stay safe under her breath. Azriel tossed Cassian a pair of keys and he led her solemnly to the black SUV, opening the door for her before walking around and sitting beside her.

Nesta waved at her sisters with a tight smile as Cassian started the car and she didn’t stop looking out the window behind them even after they were both far out of view of her.

She didn’t speak to Cassian as he drove them to a destination only he knew, having no strong urge to question him as he was possibly the only person she had left now. The only person left to protect her. Cassian didn’t say much either, only stopping after two hours on the road at a gas station to fill up on fuel and buying some drinks and snacks for Nesta, all of which remained untouched by her.

When they reached the airport, one she didn’t recognize in a state she wasn’t sure of, Cassian got out and led her out of the door, muttering to her that she could change out of her dress once they were airborne.

She didn’t question that either. Not the plane, not the secret flight going to Gods knew where, or the obviously private staff that was accompanying them. Nesta ignored them all, as well as the three bodyguards that had suddenly appeared from a car behind them that she hadn’t even seen. How much planning had gone into all of this, she had no idea. She couldn’t even fathom how Cassian had pulled it off in such a short amount of time, but she kept quiet even then, having lost all appetite for words as the weight of the day’s events hit her.

It was only when they’d been sufficiently airborne did Cassian lead her to a changing room and passed her a small duffel bag which she’d opened to find a few necessities and her own clothes. Courtesy of either her sisters or her friends, she had no idea which, but she appreciated the effort all the same.

When she’d settled back into her seat, now more comfortable in her own clothes, makeup washed off and hair braided loosely, Nesta finally felt a little more like herself again. Cassian didn’t push her into speaking or doing anything more than asking her to eat when the stewardess came around with dinner, or to sleep when it was nighttime. Nesta did both robotically, but she did them all the same, letting him lead her to a bed in the back of the plane where he left her to sleep.

And it was only when Cassian returned after a quick conversation with the captain, and joined her under the covers, and wrapped his arms around her, letting her tuck herself closer into his chest, did Nesta finally feel at home. 

~*~

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[anguigenus]

I've been thinking recently about my stories, and about the romance in them -- or more accurately, the lack of it. See, romance has never really been something that's consumed my thoughts. Sure, it's fun to read, and occasionally I have fun ideas to do with romance. But I've never written a romance story before.

Except, of course, for Let's Blow This Pop Stand.

That story has been haunting my thoughts. I love it, I really do. It was a fun idea, it was a fun story, and I laughed so much writing it. Along the way, there were a couple moments that I loved and wouldn't remove for the world, but were really easy to interpret as ship even if that (mostly) wasn't how I thought of them. So, I did my due diligence and decided to tag the story as ship and gen, to be clear to readers.

Then Echoes of the Past released and Gustholomule got big. My fic got big too. Within a few days it already had as many kudos as AMFAD, which was my next most succesful and had 5 chapters out.

I loved it! Still do. It was amazing having so much love for one of my fics, especially coming across people I don't know talk about it or even drawing art for it! The story deserved it.

And yet.

I keep thinking about its success and turning it over in my mind. How much of the success was due to me? Was it just because of the new episode releasing that day?

How well would it have done if it hadn't been tagged as ship?

I don't resent it for it's success (much). But what does bother me is the thought that all of my other fics, with their 100-something hits -- a tenth the amount LBTPS has -- might have done so much better with a sprinkle of romance.

Makes me wonder, what would happen if I made AMFAD lumity? It would be pathetically easy to work into the plot as well. Just a slight change in magic rules i'd come up with and bam, you've got the fic's plot, you've got some angst opportunites, you've got your fluffy cuddles or whatever have you.

But I won't. Because that's not what I loved about the idea. Because that's the opposite of what I wanted from it from the very start. Because I fucking [redacted for spoilers] so that wouldn't happen.

I don't know how to end this. I don't have some big call to action, some rallying cry of "Go read some gen fic and like and kudos it they deserve it so much!" because that's not my business. People will read the fic they like, and people like romance.

I'm just sad at the thought that LBTPS got what it deserved. Because don't the rest of my fics deserve the same? Didn't I write them just as well?

Is it really so strange to find joy in things that aren't romance?

[aritany]

9 for zach, 11 for rena, 16 for kieran and 19 for lucas? :>

9. what do they dream about?

zach lives in a near constant dream world. what doesn't he dream about? his daydreams are often about the thing beyond. a lot of zach's thought life is devoted to hypotheticals, and while his downward spiral ponderings are about the bad stuff (what if the plane crashes? What If The Plane Crashes?????), when he's truly idle he likes to think about future shenanigans with his best friend mara.

(after they've met, there are a lot of kieran-centric daydreams, but don't tell anyone.)

at night, he dreams about space, mostly because he's fascinated by lucid dreaming and has always had semi-control over his dreams. and if you could dream about floating through nebulas, why wouldn't you?

11. if they had three wishes, what would they be?

three wishes is fairytale nonsense, according to rena, so don't bother asking.

theoretically, if she could do something to create idyllic scenarios, she would organize a scenario to sit down and talk with kieran, her best friend oscar would start picking up the phone, and she wouldn't have to make a decision about where she is going to live for the next academic year.

16. what do they beat themselves up over?

ohhhhhhhh boy. oh boy.

see, obviously, not all of the problems people in his life keep running into are kieran's fault. obviously. ha.

but like, what if they are? there's nothing that this boy hasn't beaten himself up over, though certainly [redacted] takes up the most mental real estate.

19. what’s something symbolic to them ?

lucas has a black rubber bracelet that he's been wearing for most of his life. he doesn't explain it to many people, but it's for his younger sister, who they lost to cancer when she was three. he'll never take it off, because it symbolizes the part of him that carries her around. he was seven when she died and he remembers it vividly, but he worries about forgetting. so that bracelet is never coming off.

thanks, anon! :)

GC23 OC QUESTIONS