#why do white people expect us to grin and bear and grin and bear and grin and bear

[trans-rights-coastalmangoes]

i think some of you really need to learn what respectability politics are.

if you genuinely believe that the solution to deradicalizing the ppl in the far-right pipeline is for Black & brown people to temper our anger around white people (like i have seen some of you putting on my dash today)....

there's no amount of playing nice with abusers that'll get them to listen. if they decide that they want all of us dead because they decided some of us were rude to them, that's the racism. they weren't gonna take what we said seriously in the first place.

they need to hear the stuff that'll deradicalize them from another white person. someone they can begin to have respect for. i've literally had a white self-proclaimed-leftist friend light-heartedly tell me that they need to hear what i had to say from a white person to believe it. and it's fucking racist but it's true.

we are all responsible for talking to the people who will bother to listen to us. to reeducate. but in almost every instance, no amount of Black & brown people playing nice and abiding by white rules and white comfort is gonna de-radicalize the white people who are not willing to listen to us in the first place.

[cutieeva]

My Sweet Little Girl

Female Reader

Warnings : Abusive and toxic relationship. Murder. Attempt Murder. PTSD. Revenge porn.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 :

Is moving on with life is possible when haunting dead is hot on heels and mind ?

Her finger tips is cool to the touch of the sliver frame that is design in circles like of a bent soft feather could be, beautifully arch and terribly divine. Her (E/C) eyes felt familiar to the beauty, sight following the center of the frame that is wrapped around. A neat huge mirror where her reflection stare back, bearing her nose, her skin, her mouth and eyes and hair. Even her sombre expression that she almost forget she was staring at her own self not at another sad woman she refuse to know.

Her eyes lift to the very above where the mirror's frame hold a diamond— a frown settle on her brows, uncertain if it's real or unsettlingly false from the shine and beauty. Then her eyes stare lower to the mirror, the height of the oval mirror is taller than her own, reminding her of someone. Someone close, dear to her heart once. He might have been perfect tall for the mirror unlike her. He always was she guess.

Her fingers continue to trace the dusty frame, feeling the metal and subtle changes when she caught the feeling of a paper beneath and look to find a white price sticker attached. She titls her head at the one word. Free.

Odd word. She thought. For such a ancient, timeless beauty this should have been placed to sell in an expensive auction at the first place not in an small antique shop let alone be brought free. "Unless something is wrong with the—". Her thoughts cut off.

"Nothing is wrong with the product". His voice startled her, flinching away from the frame and step back a little from the aged grinning man, his slender hands laced behind his back. "The free is because of the one who sold the mirror. Actually the original price of this product could not compare to my humble shop and the car I have brought from loan. Something only filthy rich can buy to show off not common civilians like us..." Grumbling the man said, distasteful in his voice. "But the lady was grieving saying someone close to her heart died belonged the mirror which was one of many things and she wants them to be out of sight however not have the heart to throw them into the trash nor sell them to other uncaring people. So, her only solution was to send all of her expensive products to many antique shop hoping only pure antique lovers would take care of the things that once belonged to her beloved dead". He finished and she raised her eyebrows still unclear why the free tag if it will be eventually sell to the people from antique shops instead of completely zero amount. But she had a hint.

The man notice and cleared his oak throat. "She did not want price attached to the products, the very reason she decided to sell to me, or more like given to me". As she expected, she nod.

"Well, good because I need it". She decide, leaving the part out for her fresh moved house. The man doesn't need to know such private information. The owner's grin wider, nodding and enthusiastically walking to his desk for the package and calling his worker to delivery the fragile mirror.

She step back a little, her red heels shimmers under the golden rays. Face shadowed by a hat as she watched the male worker holding the mirror carefully. It would be a lie if she is buying such fancy thing for mere decoration or in need, rather because deep inside a side of her always love to see the history of an ancient product, touching them, finding the little changes over the course of years. It was fun to collect until it wasn't and so one and half years after she moves to an unfamiliar town along an unfamiliar house leaving her family, friends behind.

She suppose the least she can do is recall her past self. The self she erased and moled into someone her love had loved.

"Mam !" She look at the aged man.

"Yes".  Soft her voice was.

"Please write your address where we can delivery". (Y/N) nod, holding the ball pen between her fingers to write quickly, away from the man's curious eyes, away from the sun's rays, away from everything if possible.

"Here". Hurried she let the pen fall and slide the paper towards him to hide her trembling hands below the wooden desk before his glinting eyes could spot. The man took it and smiled.

"Oh ! What a wonderful place you live in. Only people with enough money can live in Vallancia estate". His smile wider. "No wonder I felt like I didn't saw you in this town because you belonged there". He added causing her to swallow how sharp the man is.

Then she frown. Wait, why is so desperate to hide the fact she is new ? It's not funny. She knows it isn't so does she knows why she is so desperate to hide because she is afraid to be scammed and tear to pieces by the local in name of kindness. She is afraid they will take advantage of her unawareness around here.

She is terribly, terribly scared. All alone. Her chest rose and fell fast and breath heavy. "I-I will take my leave then. I will wait at 2 pm for my product unscathed". Not waiting for his answer she left, patting her chest to calm and hiding her face from the sun by her hat. It's ridiculous, truly is at how little things she has come to be afraid. Little things she loved to befriend once.

━━━━━━━

The mirror stood tall at her bedroom corner, beside her closet. It's magnificent she must compliment. Her eyes slide to the newly hanged clock over the wall. At perfect 2:00 pm did it arrived in it's cleaned glory. A smile lift her lips and that years later proud feeling bubble within her chest.

Still a smile over her lips, she went to unpack the boxes. Sitting on the red carpet on the white tiles beside the boxes, her fingers went though many things she had forgetton like her photo album, her collections of sea shells, her camera and so more. Skimming though the things she once knew feels like an foreign objects now, something she is gliding her eyes for the first time. Like she is knowing a self he had once. Like all her closest people had.

Now all is remain of her past self is hurt, broken and incomplete. Grim at the loathful thoughts she push the box and decide to unpack some other day. She has lots of time in her hand. Standing she went to the bathroom.

"I should take a relaxing bath". Mutter to herself, she choose a loose pair of cloth and enter inside nude, sliding inside the warm bath.

Warm bath are always her favorite, water trickling from her skin, his humming calming her thoughts, smile plaster on her lips she can't remove. Eyes close in the bliss when her legs were pulled, her eyes flutter open watching him holding her tender feet like fragile glass and messaging them. Her smile wider, his grin too.

Slowly little by little her smile wide further at the ticklish sensation of his fingers roaming up to her wet body. She waited, feeling up his childish play how he trace to her thigh, dangerous close to her private part— a part that was not unseen by him, then at her navel he loves to pepper kisses so much, her ribcage his palm always squzze a little before resting on her breast— his favorite to fondle and caress and her buds to engulf within his pair of lips then his fingers went up to her collarbone where the golden necklace of his gift lays. The letter R shines at the light then his fingers slide up to her neck he often licks and finally caress at her chin. Where he often than not lean in to kiss like now. Her ears ignore the splash sound of his leaning to her from the water of his other side to blend their lips one.

For eternal, for now— "Ah !" Her lips grasp and eyes wide open in fear. Shaking pupils stare at the end of bathtub where she felt like her legs were tugged. Slightly. She suppose ? Inhaling deeply she run her fingers in her hair and shake her thought. "I am going crazy". A little her voice echo at the lonely bathroom before she spring up realizing how cold the water had become and numb her body.

Shivering from the cool breeze brushing her skin she wrap a towel around her body, walking to the sink to wash her face clean. Her eyes stare at the mirror for a long time before applying the facewash and splash the water to her face.

A breath of relieve escape as she lift her face to the mirror and a scream tore her lips at the sight of a shadowed tall figure right behind her.

In fear she bent to the sink, tremble her entirety, breath heavy and blurry her vision became. "D-Deep breath. Deep bre-ath". Lifting her face again, slowly, utter slowly and her eyes close in relieve of no one standing this time. Not the shadow figure or anything close still her heart pound.

Stress must be affecting her mind. Wiping the escaped tears and continue her deep breaths, her fingers slide to the vacant neck.

━━━━━━

Fresh aroma of dish travel to the bedroom awakening her eyes as she snuggle more in the comfort of her morning, sliding further to hide away inside the soft blanket, pillow and his spice smell with hint of light cologne.

"Wakey. Wakey". Teasing his creamy voice was, drumming his finger tips over her bare shoulder. "Wakey". He repeat, voice softer at each word and she giggle at his kiss on her skin like he can't get enough of her. Something that always success in fluttering her heart at the new relationship they share.

"Hmm, dear majesty isn't waking up..." He tailed off, acting like he didn't heard her giggles and his finger on his chin. "Let's then—" She waited, closing her eyes in pretense of sleeping when a yelp left her at his sudden attack of fingers ticking her stomach. Her most sensitive part from beneath.

Laughter and chuckle fill the serene silence room. "Okay ! O-okay ! Stop I am wake !" Choked laugher let out, pushing his hands away the more he is nearing. "Stop ! I am awake !" She cries and he laughs, laying on her back, facing her meanie boyfriend. A man who loves to tease her, a lot.

"You are bad". Pouting she said, looking away in act. He tilt his head, smiling on his charming face she still remembers how flustered she had became upon their first meeting.

"Am I ?" He snuck his hands beneath her body to embrace and rest his chin on her chest.

"Yes you are". He made a oh sound.

"Then..." He tail off, climbing over her "If I am bad. I am your bad boy". With his contiguous laughter he begin pepper kisses over all her face, pulling pure happiness out of her. "Don't you love this meanie, badie boy ?" He peck on her eye lids, nose, cheeks, forehead, chin. "Don't you ?"

She wrap her arms around him, pressing their bodies together. "Yes, I do !—

(Y/N) open her eyes to silence. No birds chirping nor the clock alarm she set yesterday.

Beep. Beep. She is earlier than the clock. Unusual for someone who disliked waking up early in the morning. Guess, people grow up and change. Sitting up, her stomach growl. Her feet slide to her slippers, walking to downstairs the open kitchen.

Alone the house is as it should be and her hands open the upper cabinets to reach the box of rainbow cereals she manage to unpack and keep. Within minutes she found a cleaned bowl along cleaned spoon and only bottle of milk in the fridge reminding her to do groceries and begin eating it, leaning her body to the sink and listening to her own munching sounds apart from eerie silence.

Her eyes lay on the kitchen, drafting to the past.

"What did you made ? Masterchef Rylanox" Joking she add the title despite him aiming to become one and to her, he always will be the best chef.

"Nothing much. Egg sandwich, bacons and some salads and milk". She nod, picking the spoon he provide and ate in hurry she almost burned her tongue.

"Ah !" She yelp causing him to near her and caress her cheek.

"Calm down, no one is going to snatch your food away". Rylanox said, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek and brought a tiny piece of ice to put in her mouth. "Swirl around it until it melts or if feel too icy then spit it out. Understood ?" (Y/N) nod like a good girl she was earning a smile.

"My sweet little girl". His favorite endearment to use as if he was older when they were around the same age. 21.

"Ah !" In daze she burned her tongue, spilling the food out in the sink and drinking cold water to numb the pain. She suppose one thing didn't change, her carelessness. She grim hating how if she changed why not change for the better entirely. Sighing she throw the remaining she didn't have appetite to eat anymore.

Ring ! Ring ! Ring ! (Y/N) turn her head to the living room, in front of the sofa is the house telephone ringing. She walk fast to pick and put on her ear.

"Hello". She greet. Silence she heard and she waits and waits for the other person in line to speak. "Hello ?" She gulp hearing nothing apart from silence. "Hello ? I am hanging up if you have nothing so say" She said about to hang up when a loud static ring so hard near her ear she slammed the phone down.

"Goodness". Little buzzes she felt on her right ear. Angrily she wonder who in the earth is pranking so early in the morning. "Must be the little kids". Aren't they little demons as much as little angels.

Ring ! Ring ! Ring ! (Y/N) flinch at the unexpected ring of telephone again. Her (E/C) eyes watched the shivers of red phone as it continue to buzz, filling in the air. Ring ! Ring ! She finally pick up, holding it near her ear without uttering a word, waiting for the other side to say.

However not a single sound came. Not a breathing, not even a breeze of wind and she slam the phone down.

"What was that ?" Her heart skip a beat. Kids these days are becoming bolder she swears.

Ring ! Ring ! Ring ! And the last ring about to close when her fingers pick the green telephone near her ear. "Hello !" She greet knowing already who the otherline was despite silence greeting her.

"You don't have to act when it's October. You know, I am fully aware this is you not some random or Billy Loomis from scream". Leaning on the counter her finger twirl the cords hearing his chuckle.

"Sweetie, you are no fun. Too smart to fool". He compliment, blushing her and stroking her ego.

"I know". Smirking she said.

"Narcissist much ?" She could already image mirth playing around his sky blue eyes.

"No, confident much". She replied earning more of his melody deep voice she loves to hear. "Then..." He tailed off, (Y/N) continue to not pay attention to his words, eyes lift to the kitchen window watching the full beauty of moon, smiling and drinking the fog clouding the night.

"Boo !" Her heart leap and scream tore from watching a figure pop on her window as she fell on her back. "Ah !" She whine, rubbing her back and heart pumping blood to veins faster as eyes look up, little over the counter to see her boyfriend standing, holding his smartphone near his guffaw mouth.

"You bastard !" She cursed.

Standing (Y/N) scan the piles of boxes debating where to unpack now or later. And she decide to procrastinate walking to her laptop sat on the glass tea table.

Comfortably she sit on the lush sofa, pulling the device on her lap, pressing the on button and the moment it lit up, she regret a little staring back at her own alone self, standing while holding her graduate degree in the photo with a forced smile under the scorning sun. Her thought draft to how he should have been beside her, holding his chef degree however he didn't and it satisfy her for hidden reasons.

━━━━━━━

Soft touches brush against her neck. Feather light and gentle they are and awful familiar too. Soon her close eyes discover they are hands, and the fingers hold her soft and (S/C) skin. Tender they were before tighten they become. She whimper at the feeling, breathing hitch and brows furrow as a weight lay over her body, huge than her, deepen the darkness further and the grip tighten, tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter until she couldn't breath, strangled cries let out, eyes barely open as water fill them. Nails harshly scrape the unmovable force, still she dug harder and it tighter, the more she fight, the harder it become that she felt herself floating suspended in a sea of terror.

Cries and tear bleed together.

She open her eyes and...

Nothing.

No tall midnight figure, no distorted monster, no human. Nothing but darkness with hint of moonlight sweeping through the drawn curtain windows. In mist of swallowing her dry throat and restricted chest, her fingers tap the switch of light and her sight glide around finding nothing lurking even under the bed only to rest upon the mirror and for some reason an uneasy feeling slit her stomach.

The more she stare at her self from the bed the more the feeling increase as if entrance she can't look away—. 

I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream.

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.

"What ?" She utter, heart picking up again at the song playing inside her house from downstairs she assume.

And I know it's true, that visions are seldom what they seem

The song continue to play. (Y/N) begin crying again in fear, watching the closed door when a fleeing thought came. Did she lock the door ?"

But if I know you

What if she didn't and the intruder come in ? Someone is in her house. Fist clenched and tears roll down silently she close her eyes and count to three to one to ran.

I know what you'll do

Three.

Two.

One.

She sprinted in silence, her feet pounding the ground, and grasped the golden doorknob, twisting and locking it with a desperate urgency. As she caught her breath, two stark realities dawned on her: the oppressive silence had replaced the sweet serenade, and she was holding her breath in terror.

Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes, exhaustion and fear threatening to consume her. But before she could find solace, a faint whimper pierced the air. The doorknob began to turn, resisted only by the lock's fragile hold. Someone was pushing against the door, their body weight straining the wooden frame, threatening to splinter it.

She recoiled, her back peeling away from the door as if scalded. Turning her face, she clamped her palm over her lips, stifling the cries that trembled on their way out.

You'll love me at once

The way you did once upon a dream

The song begin again. Her favorite song she listened with him as they dance, bubbling their little world where only they existed. Him and her only.

(Y/N) quickly pick her phone from the drawer, biting her hand to hold the fearful cries, calling the emergency. "Pick up ! Pick up ! Pick up !"

But if I know you

I know what you do

The haunting melody and the persistent banging at the door transported her back to a day she long tried to forget. The memory of that agonizing wait, clutching her phone as it rang incessantly, with no reassuring voice on the other end to save her, came flooding back. Today, like then, desperation clawed at her soul.

"Please, please, please," she whispered, her pleas lost. She wasn't sure who she begged– the universe, a higher power, or perhaps herself– but she clung to the fragile thread of hope.

You love me at once

The way you did once upon a dream.

"Hello, this is 911. What's your emergency ?" And the ray of hope stretch it's hand from darkness. With a relieve, she cries.

"S-someone, I-I don't know. Som-eone is trying to o-pen the door". She cries, her ears peeking how the song stop, only her strangled cries and the polite mam's voice flowing in.

"Okay, mam. I understand, I will dispatch police cars right away but you have to share your address". The lady's voice went over her head as fears consumed her. Again, again that night repeated the cause of her moving away, staring fresh. "Hello ? Mam ? Please calm down and stay in the line. Please share your address". She cries harder not knowing if she even did the simply task.

━━━━━━

"(Y/N) open the door ! (Y/N) open the door ! (Y/N) open the fucking door". Banging threat to tear the door and she tremble, fearing for her life, hand coming to touch her neck and wince, recoiling her hand when recalling how painful it was. "God damn (Y/N) ! You can't always stay in the bathroom. Come outside I am sorry, it was my fault. Come here darling. I am sorry".

His raging voice scared her more she wanted to yell, but didn't, her back touch the cold wall and she cries silently hoping, praying for him to go when her sight caught the mirror in the bathroom. Her eyes wide in surprise and lips part staring at the mixture of blue and purple hue around her neck. She didn't know how bad it looked, slowly her steps forward to the mirror, fingers gazing to touch because it feels surreal. Not true.

Her boyfriend, her sweet boyfriend that never even raise his voice when angered did this to her is pure nightmare, she isn't ready to face the reality. She isn't. No. No. No. No. No. No. It must be a accident, it must be. No way.

The banging and his voice become a white noise she was too lost to stop her doubt creeping in. Questioning is this his true self ? Is this how he was ? But it slipped ? Evil voices merge together so much when she caught the tall figure right behind her. It was too late, she screamed in horror and tried to ran past him but he was stronger, faster holding her in the place he desired.

She blindly punched, kick his legs, screaming in hopes of someone hears her when Rylanox groans, slamming his hand over her lips and caging her between his body and the sink.

"Shuu". He hushed her, holding her tightly as she cries louder. "Shu ! Shut up ! I am sorry, I am sorry (Y/N), I am sorry I was bad. It was an accident I swear". Apologies in his tip, uttering thousand times that it lose it's meaning now.

"Calm down ! FUCKING CALM DOWN !" He yell, flinch her and scaring her so hard, she stopped, her hands limp on her side and legs stand wobbly, wailing turn to sobbing. "Sorry, sorry. I was angry. I am sorry. Good, my sweet little girl, stay like this". His sweaty palm comb her locks out of face, wipe her tears as the other remove from her lips.

"I am sorry. It was an accident. I was drunk—".

"So you strangled me ?" Angrily she utter, cutting his nonsense to which he deeply inhale.

"I am sorry, okay ? I fucked up. I know that, the alcohol in my system just mess up my brain so—". He pause searching words she knew wasn't enough to justify his actions. "—I am sorry, I truly am". He settle on those words in last.

(Y/N) look away, a shudder ran her body at the image of his crazed eyes loomed over her, haunting her mind's eye—the same eyes that had once gazed at her with affection. His hands, once gentle, grasped her neck like a vice before he was simply kissing her, being sweet to her only to spiral into someone she couldn't recognize, couldn't see for the tears flooding her eyes and black, colorful dots dancing in her vision as she was fighting for her life to the man she thought would fight for her, not from him.

She regrets opening the door when he was drunk, regrets walking the straved lion to her bedroom to sleep together when he push her on the bed gently, she giggled unaware of what about to happen as he press kisses, hands roaming around her body, all at once before gazing at her neck and leading to this.

"(Y/N) ? (Y/N) ? (Y/N) ? Please look at me—".

"Miss. (Y/N) !" She look at the pair of cops in front of her in daze, wrapping the shawl tighter feeling the brown hair-red cop from the black one was gazing at her too intimately.

"Yes". She replied to the black haired cop.

"We searched your entire house and property but unfortunately we found no one". (Y/N) nod hating the distant sound of it. "So, we think it might be the mischief neighbor children". (Y/N) frown, gazing at him.

"How children could easily come in and do such terrible things ? The phone ring—".

"The phone calls ?" He question, hand on his waist belt.

"Yes, today morning I had continuous phone calls but whenever I picked up, no one talked". He nod and she could imagine him believing entirely it's the children unlike her and she hated it.

"So—". The brown haired cop drawls. "—do you live alone ?" Her heart sink to her stomach, his eyes glinting is too familiar to him when he first asked her name. That amusing and excitement locking her in dilemma to say truth or lie.

She listened to her gut feeling. "No. My parents are out of town". She lies watching the glint melt. Police were never her first choice anyways rather she dislike them for not doing their duty that civilians pays taxes for them to keep. It's infuriating.

"Oh". His voice drop and the black haired cop scoff lightly.

"Well, then if anything happens do not hesitate to call us again. We will look out too". Those revised words she excuse she heard when cops can't do anything, watching them leave from the window before drawning the curtains. She could have asked, even pled them to stay if the brown haired cop was not bearing ill intention or at least flirtatious thoughts.

Why men are so greedy she wonder. Always want more than they can chew and she wants to die, wishing to disappear from the surface of the earth if it meant free from the pain, agony fill memories and regret. She wish she had told her parents, friends. Even his parents the truth. She should.

Sitting on the carpet, her eyes roll to the music box the song was haunting her and she went to pull the plug out when something else caught her corner of eyes. The telephone plug. It is not plugged.

And her mind reel and breath halted away. No. No. No. No. No. No. It can't be. If the phone is not plugged then how could it ring— ? It's not possible. It simply not possible. Maybe mice or some animal did it after it rang. Yes, that's the thing right ?

Aside from that there is no evidence how a unplugged telephone ring twice. (Y/N) nod, convincing her because otherwise.....the blood in her veins turn cold.

He isn't dead ?

No. No. No. He has to be dead. Because she with her own bare hands killed her boyfriend Rylanox.

━━━━━━

"You are trying to break up with me ? (Y/N) can you hear yourself ? You, trying to break up with me, Rylanox Slade". He grip her chin hard, daring her to bore her gaze into his angered ones. "And you were fool to think that I would agree and let you fuck someone else !" She cries, pushing him away in disgust of his thought.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you ! How more disgusting can you be ? Rather than trying to know the reason or even understand why we are breaking up, you care more about who I will have sex with ?" Tears swell her red rimmed more yet her voice horse like she cried for hours.

"Of course I will when you are mine !" His large palm hold her wrist tight she wince. "I do care who you fuck and not, whatever nonsense you are coming up to break up with me when we are happy !" He screamed, angering her further.

"Happy ? You say me crying and applying pounds of makeup everyday to hide your little accidents is called happy ? And you say that reasons are nonsense ?" The voices of his sound distant like she can't believe who the person is saying in front, not her beloved boyfriend she knew because he would never, he even swore in their first date to always be there to listen to her, protect her. Not hurt her. But if this is her boyfriend then she was a fool to not notice how a monster he was.

She was also a fool to come to a party of their mutual friend thinking he will not be here after she cowardly in phone announced their break up after that fateful night of him choking her to death. After that she feared for her life more than she loved him. But how ? How did he even know she would be here ? She was not a party person and her thoughts tangled when his grip on her wrist brought her back.

"I am talking to you !" He rest his forehead, jaw clenched and alcohol reek from his mouth she almost turn her head if not for his fingers holding her chin in place. "Look at me. We are not breaking up. We aren't. We never will be". His pled overshadowed the faint loud music from the living room, her (E/C) eyes stare into his teary blue ones and she almost saw the boy she fell for, not the monster that held her.

She swear, she was close to agreeing, close to embracing him and giving him a second chance and turn a blind eye however his words circle around her mind of how not once did he sincerely apologize for his mistakes, acknowledge them as messed up for better and try to be better instead of uttering them when needed and finding justification. If not for her then at least for his sake they need to break up.

She realize she loves him more than she can hate him so she decide to—

"Let's break up". Because if he truly loves her as he says then he will be better and she will take him without a second thought, forgive all his sins.

"What ?" However he did not share the same thought, his eyes disbelief and the grip loose. "What did you say ?" His voice barely above a whisper like he is afraid to hear it himself.

"I said let's break up for real". She repeat, her own heart breaking apart. "We can't stay together. Not when you are like this". Her voice crack in the end and a lonely tear slide. She glance at his clouded face, frown deepen and she move forward to rest their forehead as a unspoken goodbye. "I am sorry". She truly was and with that she walk away as he let her.

Her palm on the doorknob rest, twist it about to open.

"Ah". A moan halt her actions. "Harder ! Harder !" (E/C) eyes wide at her own voice, shamelessly moaning and her warm body turn cold, the air of outside whiff inside.

"Ah !" She moan again, louder than previous. (Y/N) can't believe her ears, her heart heavy, heart ratting like a rat against her cage. Behind her footsteps came, a hand from behind brush past her skin to gently push the door shut with a click.

He stood holding the phone— the source of her nightmare, of all girls horror while he tower over her like he had the power, smirk like the devil incarnation hug her waist. "You can still break up if you want. Unless of course". He chuckle like a joke it was to him. "You want to be the face of whores". Tears descend from her eyes. How low could he go to trap her ? chain her ?

"Aww," he cooed, his voice dripping with false tenderness as she sobbed. "Don't cry, my sweet little girl. I didn't record it secretly to take revenge or exploit you. You know me." His words reeked of insincerity. "I love you too much for that. I just wanted a token of our love, a reminder for when we're apart."

His voice cracked with amusement, sending shivers down her spine. "But who knew it would come in handy?" The laughter that followed was like a devil's chuckle, echoing in her mind, relentless and haunting. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

The sound was like an irritating mosquito buzzing in her ear, a constant reminder of his betrayal. Pain and anguish swirled inside her, threatening to consume her. She had trusted him, loved him, and this was how he repaid her ?

SLAP!

Rylanox's face jerked to the side, his cheek flaming crimson from the force of her blow. The sex tape in his hand seemed to fade into insignificance as her chest heaved with rage, her eyes blazing with betrayal.

"How dare you!" she thundered, her voice shredding the air. "How dare you try to blackmail me? Manipulate me into being your puppet?" Her palm throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the anguish and vulnerability ravaging her soul.

"I loved you," she spat, each word laced with venom. "I gave you everything – my heart, body, and soul. And this is how you repay me? recording our intimate moments without my permission and using them against me?" Her scream tore through the silence, veins bulging in her skin, eyes wide with disgust and hurt. For an instant, Rylanox's expression faltered, revealing a glimmer of remorse.

But anger quickly clouded his face, hardening his features.

"You forced my han—". She cut off his nonsense.

"No ! You fucking coward ! You forced my hand to break up ! I want you to know that we break up is because of you ! And you and you only !" She screamed. "And you know what's funny ? The video serves more prove why I should separate with you". She bitterly laughed at his face. He flinch at the tone. "Upload it. Upload for all the people to see and you will find my dead body to touch". At the word dead red painted his vision so his better judgment.

The next moment all happen in a fleeing motion, (Y/N) was pinned against the wooden door, her back colliding with it so forcefully that a strangled gasp escaped her lips as his both palms wrapped like a venomous snake around his neck, tighten at each passing second. "You know what my (Y/N) ? I want you dead than not being with me. So let's die together". Her eyes wide in that and his smirk grew, loving the fearful power over her. See, it doesn't make sense for both of them to live especially her apart from him let alone with someone else showing such cute expressions that belongs only to him.

"Ah !" With a frightening scream her eyes wide open, grasping for air in her lungs. His wicked smile imprint on her mind. Her eyes roll around finding herself engulf in darkness as her body lay on the carpet of the living room where she saw the— memories flash inside her mind making her crawl back to the wall, staring straight to the innocent unplugged cord. Sweat glisten at the peering moonlight and hand found her flipped smartphone, holding it and surprise to find a day pass since the cops came....yesterday.

She slept a day away ? More like faint.  Confusion greet her as she rarely slept since that day— the day she shut her mouth about despite all know the unhidden part of truth. Not the cloaked part of his dirty, nasty self she choose silence. It's alright thought, as long as her recording none know. She will take to her grave where she was the villain and he was the angel.

Standing up in the shaky legs she went inside her bedroom, locking the door and meeting the mirror and a suddenly doubt made her step towards it. If she carefully think, the moment this mirror grace her house all her paranoi—

Ring! Ring! Ring! The shrill sound pierced the air, shattering her fragile calm. Her thoughts snapped back to reality, and dread washed over her like a cold wave. Her lips quivered, and her eyes snapped shut as if to block out the unbearable truth.

He's not dead. He's come back to haunt her, to claim her as his own in death.

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! Each ring grew louder, more insistent, and she covered her ears, desperate to block out the cacophony. Her hands trembled, and her breath came in ragged gasps.

But it was the impossible truth that made her stomach churn with terror: the telephone was unplugged. Yet, it rang on, a maddening, otherworldly sound that defied logic. This was no ordinary call. This was a summons from beyond the grave.

Silence. The abrupt cessation of the ringing left her breathless. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the eerie stillness that enveloped the house. The sudden quiet was oppressive, heavy with anticipation.

A pin drop would have been deafening in the vacuum of sound. Her ears strained, hyper-vigilant, and then she heard it – the faint click of someone picking up the phone.

The sound was like a spark to dry kindling, igniting her fear. Her heart skipped a beat as she waited, frozen, for the voice on the other end.

The pause seemed interminable, stretching her nerves to the breaking point. And then, a low, raspy breath echoed through the line.

"(Y/N) ! What the hell did you mean in the text let's break up ? Who do you think you are ? Out of nowhere writing something dangerous to get my attention ? This is so petty from you". That same deep voice of his sch the house. She stilled, unable to process how on earth is it speaking the same words he did when she announced their break up on phone following the horrible phone ringing on her house phone as she blocked him on her own. Yet it was before the storm. That incident.

She recalled the terror vividly, like it was yesterday. Days of relentless calls from unknown numbers, forcing her to change phones, only to have him breach the new barrier, invading her landline. "I said what I said, let's break up". The same words he heard to be angered.

"You !! This is about that night ? Isn't it ?" He sounded so, so angry and wounded she wanted to smooth when she was the cause.

"Yes". Said honestly. She heard him exhale.

"Please don't do this to yourself. To me. To us". Pleading his voice, dangerously edge to crying she recalled herself crying with him.

"I'm sorry. No." She whispered to the darkness, tears streaming down her face as remorse and anguish consumed her.

Memories flooded back, transporting her to that fateful day. She relived the horror of holding the phone as he slammed it down, the sound echoing in her mind.

"I'll watch how," his menacing voice still lingered, sending shivers down her spine.

The sudden slam of the phone shattered the silence, making (Y/N) jump. The ensuing stillness was oppressive, a haunting reminder of her isolation.

The silence she had craved now felt suffocating, a desperate loneliness that echoed the terror of being trapped with him in that room. No one to weep to, no one to beg for help.

"I told you we're meant to be together." (Y/N)'s pupils dilated in terror as her legs buckled, sending her crashing to the floor. Her eyes locked onto the mirror, where a dark, bottomless figure emerged, its hand reaching out like a specter.

Her mouth hung agape, frozen in horror, as she stared into the face of death itself – a monstrous, inhuman form that twisted the reflection of her former lover.

Despite her desperate attempts to move, her body remained paralyzed, rooted to the spot like a trapped animal. The darkness seemed to seep from the mirror, step into her bedroom. That's when she sprinted for her life, adrenaline fueling her desperate escape. Once again.

In an instant, the dark figure grasped her body, spinning her around with inhuman strength. (Y/N) crashed into the wood, the impact reverberating through her bones.

A rage-filled slam pinned her against the surface, the air knocked from her lungs. The figure's grip tightened around her neck, a merciless chokehold.

(Y/N)'s vision blurred, her thoughts racing as she struggled to break free. The figure's grip only tightened, its intention clear: to unalive her. Tears dripping and her entire visage red. Lips wide open to earn any or at all air possible as she continue to tug her nails on it's hand finding indeed soft flesh almost like his palms. She cried more at that. Swimming to the past of how twice she is in the same place, suffering for other's anger.

"I fucking hate you!" she screamed with her last shred of strength, defiance burning in her eyes. The figure's response was a grotesque, inhuman screech, its lip tearing apart like ripped fabric. The sound sent shivers down her spine.

"I fucking hate you !" (Y/N) scream loudly not giving the satisfy that if a afterlife exist they will be reunited. Fuling his anger as he screamed, using his force more and tears swell in his own eyes like he was hurting to do this.

(Y/N)'s vision blurred as Rylanox's grip tightened, lifting her off the ground. Feets deattached from the ground as she wailed, kicking frantically, desperation clawing at her chest. With a final burst of strength, she inhaled deeply and launched both legs into his chest.

Rylanox stumbled backward, landing hard on his back, his head thudding against the phone's edge. A groan escaped his lips. (Y/N) crashed to the floor, coughing, gasping for air. Her eyes locked onto a nearby lamp, and with a surge of adrenaline, she seized it.

With a primal urge, she brought the lamp down upon Rylanox's head – again and again and again. Blood splattered across her sky-blue dress, mirroring the hue of his eyes and tainting her (S/C) skin of hands, face. The blows continued, fueled by rage and terror, until his face was unrecognizable, a battered, pulpy mass.

Click— the door opened revealing the terrors painting her friend's and father's face who came to pick her when she didn't pick his calls.

(Y/N)'s feet dangled in mid-air, suspended by the figure's unyielding grip. Her eyes snapped shut, and she kicked wildly, blindly flailing. Her hands swung at the faceless void, desperate to connect. In a flash of hope, she turned to the wooden wardrobe beside her. With a surge of adrenaline, she pushed against it, shaking the sturdy frame, it rattled, teetered, and finally touch the frame of the mirror beside it to collapsed, shattering on the ground.

The figure vanished into thin air, releasing its hold. (Y/N) crashed to the floor with a thud, gasping for breath. Her stomach churned, and she vomited the remains of her last meal, retching violently.

As she stumbled backward, away from the wreckage, she gazed at the shattered mirror. The cracked glass reflected her own fractured reality, a testament to the horror she'd endured.

Cops were called, red and blue highlight her features as the police drag her, handcuffed. Her father furiously speaking to the head cop as she in daze clench his phone on her pocket watching her friends standing with palms pressed on their lips, unable to believe what she was capable of. To be honest so is she.

At the station she utter nothing of the motive, nothing of tale to tell only words echo "Self-defense". The female officer stare at her disheveled self, doubts creeping on her eyes of the possible explanation and her father'a hush money to the higher ups were enough to bail her however when she still painted in her lover's blood was slapped across her face by his mother's sorrowful hand.

"How dare you wretched girl took my son away so terribly ! I thought you were a good girl". Indeed, she was sorry for doing so, his mother was nothing apart shown kindness when introduced to her, always noting her allergies, sliding with her on fights that she almost forget that she wasn't her mother, rather his mother.

So all she did was choose silence, remaining on her father's grip on her shoulder and watching the woman break down to the ground with her husband holding her together, his eyes red and clouded with hatred she often seen held for the murderer of Innocents. But he was no far from one.

Not even when his funeral was held and his father's weeping speech portrait him as one. She watched from the slidelines inside her father's car as her mother hugged her saying "I believe you did that to protect yourself". Without a doubt her mother did when she wasn't known to his abusive side nor her friends who still stood by her side despite being in dark. (Y/N) was so grateful and felt foolish for feeling that way, afraid of if she said to anyone of his behavior they would curl in disgust, stare at her like she was a clown.

Or worse, tell her a liar because as much as she was fooled by him, they were too. All deeply adored him, cared for him and loved him that's why the stares of the university hall felt so heavy, so scary to she endure until she was shallow from the inside holding the degree she needs to run away.

And like a coward she did to another small town she was unknown, leaving behind her loved ones to protect herself.

From the growing guilt of hiding, regret of never revealing, disgust of her nativity and scared of their faiths on her. She really really didn't want to be alone at least left alone in this house with a haunted mirror bringing all the bittersweet memories.

Sometimes a bottle can't keep overflowing water so when one tries to close the cap from dripping down. It has no choice aside from busting like a bomb unless....

"I let the cap lose and spill the water all". Some secrets aren't just meant to keep and she should have known that as she keep her phone and finally called her parents, friends and all the people who have faith of her innocence til the end. She needs to say the cloaked truth. The dirty, nasty truth of how she survived and that was the busting point.

━━━━━━

"And that's why I just smash it again and again and again". She stare at her loved ones, silent tears flowing. "Until he become the mess I always saw". Mother's grasp her mouth, tears of regret roll down.

Little droplet of water fell from father too who is looking at his little daughter and finally saw how big she has become to endure such horrific experience. "My child. This is not your fault". He hugged her tight and she after a long time cried laying herself bare just like the days of childhood when she cries without hiding the reason.

Her friends hold her hands. "You should have told us ! I knew you always had a reason". Rosie, the one who opened the door that night to be witness. "I knew from the sheer despair of your face that someone appalled you to ! But I didn't knew..." She halted, kissing her back of palm.

"It's alright. We are here. Nothing is your fault and will never. He deserved it if I dare say". Jasper said, wiping his tears.

"I know right. I should have at least punched him". Edie, expressed swallowing and leaning on the sofa, drinking the information.

"My child, I am sorry. I failed to protect you". Mother kiss her forehead. "Always remember I love you and always choose you before anyone". She said the oath (Y/N) knew was truth.

Finally the overflowing water from the bottle spill without busting. And to be honest it felt good. Light even.

"This mirror..." (Y/N)'s weary eyes locked onto Rosie's voice laced with a mix of curiosity and dread. "Didn't it belong to... the bastard ?"

The words hung in the air like a revelation, and suddenly, the puzzle pieces fell into place. (Y/N)'s expression transformed from confusion to shock.

She wasn't haunted nor possessed by him. It was the memories that she remember but tries to repressed hard leaving her everything behind to start fresh and when she layed eyes on the mirror. It all begin again surfacing— the feelings, the memories, everything even the emotion of familiar to the beautiful mirror. After all, it was the mirror of Rylanox she always saw, the first thing in his bedroom.

After ending Rylanox's life, (Y/N) mistakenly believed it would bring closure, an end to her suffering. But in reality, it marked the beginning of a new, arduous journey.

The scars he left ran deeper than she imagined. Nightmares lingered, and everyday encounters triggered memories of him: light tugs in the bathroom, shadow figure of the bathroom and the phone rings, door banging, music playing. Each incident convinced her that Rylanox's ghost haunted her. But the truth was more complex even the final, suffocating grasp was not his, but her own recollection. The mirror, once a symbol of elegance, she forgetten had become a portal to her darkest recollections.

Breaking it shattered the cycle she didn't want to face, but true healing required more. Killing Rylanox eliminated the problem, not healing. (Y/N) needed to confront the scars, acknowledge the hurt, and face her emotions head-on. Healing demanded honesty and vulnerability, not just eradication of the source. It was time for (Y/N) to take the first step forward, to confront the shadows and begin her true journey toward recovery.

Ha, even after dying he left her in misery. What a joke because indeed after calling the owner of the antique shop for the name of the grieving lady is Rylanox's mother who couldn't bear to stand his things nor throw heartlessly.

Soon (Y/N) moved out of the house from the uneasy feeling to her parents' house where they took care of her, even her friends come to vist whenever they can if not daily. After few weeks she took the advise of Jasper to see a therapist for the better.

Never once did she met the Slade family thankfully because she doesn't know what to utter. To be honest she still get nightmares but they are much easier and processing in a way she feels light.

She will heal. If not in one year or so, one day she will and that will be the sweetest revenge to him from her. Getting better and live her life without him like he feared and she wants.

FIN

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◜⌜ 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ⌟◞

[nakachuchu]

Enjoyment | Gojo Satoru

SYNOPSIS: You didn't enjoy things in life until meeting Gojo.

READER: female

WORDS: 1.1k

WRITTEN: 07/24/2023

NOTE: Thank you for requesting! Sorry this is more "I don't care" than "I'm ditzy." Feel free to request again for anything!

You just could not give a fuck. You really could not. You hated responsibility. You hated having to bear the weight of a million mountains, just to die regretful in the end.

The world of Jujutsu was full of drama and hierarchies that would always put you below because of your gender.

No matter how powerful you were, you would never hold the same status as a man. That was a reason that continued to your personality.

People higher-up didn't like to meet with you in person or even talk to you over the phone because you just didn't care.

Your brain was numb and you found no enjoyment in things. No matter how much you slept or how many vitamins you swallowed like drugs, you were always so tired.

You did your job. You did what you were commanded and you would repeat the cycle over and over again.

Most things were deaf to you. Whatever people said, if it wasn't of utmost importance relating to your job as a sorceress, then your ears would fold over.

Maybe you had heard of the name Gojo or Satoru, but never Gojo Satoru, the holder of the Six Eyes. You never heard his full title, so you had no clue who he was until you saw him.

It was cliche to say that his beauty captured your attention. His beauty captured every women's attention, but it was a miracle for your attention span to be held.

You shrugged him off when you saw his sparkling blue eyes and white eyelashes flutter on his date with a woman in a cafe.

You carried on with your day for weeks until you saw him again at the Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

As a student from the Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School, you never crossed paths with him. The slight age gap helped that as well. You were five years older than him at the time.

You were at the Tokyo site to have a meeting with Yaga on the subject of Itadori Yuuji. The subject of Gojo Satoru came into the conversation, and all you could respond with was "Who?"

Your question was so dead serious that Yaga couldn't tell if you were pulling his leg or not. When he finally realized you were being serious, he stood up without a word and dragged you over to Gojo before he could leave campus.

"This is Gojo Satoru," said Yaga.

You tilted your head. "I'm L/N Y/N."

"No, he's Gojo Satoru, the Six Eyes holder," Yaga said, exhausted by the limited space in your brain.

You hummed and leaned forward, looking up at Gojo who had an amused smile on his face. "Do you really have six eyes or what? Is that why you wear a blindfold?"

"Actually, I do have six eyes. The sun hurts, you know, if I don't wear my blindfold."

Yaga smacked Gojo — as much as he possibly could due to his infinity being turned on. "Be serious."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "I only have two eyes."

You leaned back. "Boring. I'll be going now. See you whenever, Yaga."

You walked away with a lazy wave, yawning in the process. Gojo watched you walk away, intrigued by your nonchalant attitude and apparent lack of interest in him.

As one of the most powerful sorcerers alive, he was used to people fawning over him or being intimidated by his presence. But you seemed completely unfazed.

Over the next few weeks, Gojo found himself thinking about you more often than he expected. He learned your name was Y/N and that you were a talented jujutsu sorceress from Kyoto, despite your bored disposition. He started finding excuses to be around Kyoto more often, hoping to run into you again.

One day, Gojo "happened" to show up at the Kyoto Jujutsu High School while you were teaching a class. As your students whispered excitedly about the unexpected guest, you raised an eyebrow.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Gojo-san?" you asked dryly after class.

Gojo grinned. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by to see you."

You stared at him. "Is that so? Well, I'm afraid I'm quite busy today." You started to walk away.

Gojo felt challenged by your continued indifference to him. "Let me take you out for tea," he offered.

You paused, contemplating his request.

"Tea's boring," you said pointedly before walking off.

"Coffee?"

"I want ice cream."

"Deal," he said.

"You're buying."

Over ice cream that afternoon, the two of you slowly opened up more to each other. Underneath your bored facade, Gojo was surprised to find a sharp intellect and wry sense of humor.

That day marked the start of an unlikely relationship between you both. Your contrasts balanced each other out in ways neither expected.

Because of Gojo, you began to find enjoyment in certain things. You liked going out for sweets with him, but you liked it even more when he paid for things.

The man was loaded and nothing was stopping you from taking advantage of that old money he had in his pockets.

"I feel a bit hurt you're using me for money," he said as he watched you eat dango.

"You should be honored," you said through a mouthful.

Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I should be honored that a beauty like yourself wants to spend time with me, even if it is just for my money."

You rolled your eyes as you finished up the last dango stick. "Don't flatter yourself too much. I'm mostly here for the free food."

"But you don't deny you find me handsome," Gojo said with a smirk.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. I can tell."

You gave him an irritated look, though amusement shone in your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to enjoy Gojo's company. His confidence bordering on arrogance used to annoy you, but now you found it almost endearing.

After finishing the dango, the two of you took a stroll through the park. The weather was pleasant, with cherry blossoms in full bloom.

You talked about nothing in particular, simply enjoying each other's presence. As the sun began to set, Gojo walked you home. At your door, he paused.

"I had a nice time today," he said.

You nodded. "I guess you can take me out again, as long as you keep paying."

Gojo grinned. "It's a deal."

He started to lean in, then stopped, waiting for permission. You closed the distance between you and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back, Gojo looked pleased.

"So does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend now?"

"Don't push it," you said.

But you did squeeze his hand before disappearing inside your apartment.

[the-fluff-piece]

A heart for a heart

A sfw Trafalgar x fem!reader fluff story

Part 1

Part 2 out now

Part 3!

Also check my masterlist for more stories!

Part 1, where the polar tang stops at a small island for the night. Law wouldn't have expected that there, on this backwater island, he would treat a patient that would steal his heart

Note: I just wanted to write Law absolutely over the top falling in love

Ever since he had become a samurai of the seas and the world knew about his powers as a doctor, all kinds of people came before Trafalgar D. Water Law begging to heal them or prolong their life. There where kings, merchants, pirates and bandits - even a marine admiral - that sought him out and beseeched him to treat their ailments. His title "the surgeon of death" never deterred them.

He turned all of them away. He swore he would only use his power to heal for his crew - or if he felt like it, and a tyrant or a merciless merchant kneeling before him was not going to sway him. The stories of disease and pain quickly annoyed him, because all he saw was mighty men and women, uncaring for the world around them, asking him for more time to leave their heinous mark on the world. It had become such a nuisance that he didn't even answer anymore - he just flipped them his finger and let his crew dispose of them.

He didn't think it would ever be any different until they stopped at a small, uninteresting island where people were too poor to attract any sort of attention. They went to the only tavern in town for some fun and occupied the place for the evening. Law was residing in the most comfortable chair, enjoying a drink and meal with his crew - when it happened. Again. He already rolled his eyes when he heard the pleading "please...very sick...will die..." at the door. He trusted that Bepo would throw them out - it was doubtlessly some wealthy arsehole that tracked him down, begging to be saved - when the white bear stood before him, looking rather flustered.

"Captain, I think you should have a look at this" he said in a sad voice.

"Why?", Law grunted. His first mate should know better by now.

"I...this really is different, maybe we should make an exception?" the bear asked.

"We? I am the captain here and I have the power, I alone decide when I make an exception. If I just treat one, they'll all come running to me" Law said in a stern voice - and he saw his old friend bring out his biggest arguments: his sad eyes. Not many people know that the eyes of a mink bear where as strong as a 1000 puppy eyes, and even Trafalgar was not immune to them, although he wouldn't even admit that under torture.

The bear stared at him with such an incredibly adorable expression, he broke Law's will into a thousand pieces.

Dammit, if he does that it must be urgent. Law ground his teeth in frustration. "Let's have a look - and than I'll tell you why I won't do anything", Law said, not looking at the bear to conceal that he had melted.

Flashing Law a happy grin, Bepo waved a young man to them, and he was carrying something. Or rather: someone.

Law tried to give that intruder a cursory glance before denying his request to appease Bepo, but Laws demonstrably disinterested look froze when he saw the patient that was laid out before him on the table.

A young girl, about his own age, clad in a simple dress - nothing special one would say. But for him, the sight felt like he was just hit by the marines buster call. As soon as he saw her face, his heart skipped a beat, or two, he couldn't really tell anymore. The world beneath his feet dissolved until only he and that girl were left - and he fell, deeply. Something about her features, that he couldn't even explain to himself, captured him completely. He couldn't say if it was the beautiful eyes looking up at him, the noble shape of her nose or the elegant curve of her mouth, but he was already absolutely obsessed. As his greedy eyes drank her appearance in, he knew he would never be satisfied.

A powerful longing to possess her controlled his thoughts. The sudden onslaught of feeling overwhelmed him and it took all his willpower to reign himself back in and take control of his emotions again.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at her or what emotions he had shown. He closed his mouth to swallow. Everyone looked at him utterly confused. He cleared his throat and tried as best as he could to mimic the bored and relaxed posture he had had a moment before, even though he felt nothing like it through the adrenaline pumping through his body right now. What he wouldn't give to possess hormone-level control of his bodyfunctions right now to calm down.

"State your request", he prompted the man, his eyes fixed on the girl on the table. She seemed to be barely awake, looking around with hazed eyes.

The man fell to his knees and bowed down until he touched the ground with his forehead, his desperate pleading could be heard in the whole room: "Oh great Trafalgar Law, Samurei of the seas and greatest surgeon alive, this is my sister, she's very sick! The doctor said her heart was weak and she would not get old. We weren't able to find a doctor willing to treat her. She's gotten worse over the last week, you are our only hope, please save her! The me and the whole village will repay you anyway we can!"

Law only half listened to the probably worthless explanation and flattery of the brother and already began to examine her for symptoms.

Her skin looked pale and sweaty, the breath was rattling. A heart problem is plausible, although he would need to do some more tests. He took her small hand into his, the soft skin was cold and damp and her fingers seemed to be swollen. If it was only a heart defect he could easily cure her.

There was no careful weighing of options here, he knew that he would absolutely do anything to save her, no matter how much he told himself that he still had a choice. And that he would have to take her with him.

"How about we talk about the price after the surgery", Law said, his poker face back in place. The plan was formulated and he would go through with it. He picked her up easily, she felt and looked emaciated. The soft whimper that escaped from her blue lips was like a knife to his heart. He would have to begin treatment as soon as possible, luckily he had a stash of spare organs in excellent shape on the tang - for emergencies like this.

As he turned to go back to the submarine, the brother danced around him in joy, promising him everything if his sister lived. Law assured him that the village would absolutely be able to pay what he would ask.

Back on the polar tang, after a short confirming examination, he immediately began surgery with the assistance of his crewmembers. A heart transplant was easy for Law, the power of his devil fruit was designed for this purpose, the success rate at almost 100%.

She would get a strong heart that would safe her from certain death and carry through life.

Half of the village was camping in front of the polar tang in the harbour, awaiting the end of the surgery.

Of course, it was a success. He never doubted that. He would now wait at her bed until she woke up, monitoring her closely to ensure her safety.

As the anesthetic wore off, she opened her eyes and really looked at Law for the first time. Her lips had already regained a healthy colour, her skin looked rosy again and her gaze was focused - on him. He stared. He couldn't help it. She was even more irresistible now, he couldn't have anticipated how badly it would affect him.

He prided himself on being educated, eloquent and sophisticated - he wanted to tell her who he was, that she was in the best and most capable hands.

"Uhm...hey", was the only thing he could think of to say when he finally met her gaze for the first time. How embarrassing. Since he first saw her the question of who she was dominated his mind. While she slept he had built a hundred scenarios in his head how he would introduce himself to her. "Hey" was not among them.

"Hey", she answered, smiling at him. He couldn't have imagined a more perfect smile. It played around her pink lips, kind and warm. Home, he felt like he was coming home.

"You're...uhm...ok now, you know", he heard his idiot voice say. He could have impressed her by being every inch the doctor his father raised him to be, he could have told her how he saved her life. Instead, he told her "she was ok now". Well done Law, he thought.

"I feel...so much better! What happened?", her excited, melodic voice made his ears ring. It made him think of cozy winter evenings spend at a warm fire, it was the kind of voice that made him feel like being wrapped in a warm blanket. He felt a wide grin expand over his face.

"I g...gave you a new h...heart", he stuttered this most basic expression, incapable of retrieving his medical expressions from behind the blockade of hormones in his brain.

She stared at him for a moment, he stared at her. She touched her chest with her hand, just above the heart and looked as though she would cry.

"I'm cured?", she asked shakily. He nodded. "You cured me?" He nodded. "Yeah".

She fell around his neck, crying and thanking him. He wasn't prepared for this. Her soft hair was caressing his cheek, her arms tightly closed around him. Her scent and warmth washed over him, ripping down every emotion defence he had built, like an ocean surge destroying every dyke in its path. He didn't know what to do. Could he touch her? Should he? He lay one of his hands on her back to return the hug, but he just lightly padded her back. It was enough to make his whole body explode with a tingling sensation and send his heart on a wild race. Never let her go again. He would never, ever let her go again. He knew that now.

___________________

Stay tuned for part 2!

Now that you've read the whole thing, let me know what you think in the comments!

[sayosdreams]

Picture Us (Together Forever)

Word Count: 26,115

ACOTAR masterlist

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

__________

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

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

Present day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cassian chuckled.

__________

Five years ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” she replied vaguely. 

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

“We’re almost there, I promise.”

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

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

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

She opened her eyes, and gasped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was already too late. 

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

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

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

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

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

She paused, considering her next words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he replied. 

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

__________

Present day

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

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

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

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

Cassian smirked. “I sure hope so.” 

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

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

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

__________

Five years ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cassian continued to questioningly stare at Azriel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__________

Present day

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

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

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

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

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

__________

Five years ago

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

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

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

Nesta turned around. 

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

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

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

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

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

Clearly, she’d failed. 

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

Nesta cut him off by shushing him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nesta cheered. 

He gasped “Betrayal!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__________

Present day

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

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

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

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

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

__________

Four years ago

Vroom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She spun around to face him. “Really? But I… I wouldn’t want to damage your motorcycle. I know how important it is to you and, well, are you sure you want me to ride it?”

Cassian just shrugged, smiling. “No pressure, of course, if you’d rather not ride a motorcycle, but I’d love for you to try.” Something shifted in his eyes as he said, “I’d love to share it with you.”

Nesta blinked. She had grown up very differently from Cassian. She’d been born into a wealthy, upper-class family that later lost its wealth when her father got laid off and her mother fell ill. The medical bills piled up as her father searched in vain for work during a recession, and once her mother passed away, her father fell into the arms of alcoholic depression. Luckily, Nesta had enough training and experience by that point to gain a scholarship to her ballet school. 

So while Nesta had experienced poverty, it was never in the way that Cassian had. She could only understand Cassian’s desperation to hold on to his possession on an intellectual level. 

She didn’t know why he would trust her with something so precious.

“Of course I trust you,” Cassian added, as though he’d read her mind. He kissed her on the forehead, as if to say ‘you’re precious to me’. Nesta closed her eyes. 

“Um,” she whispered, then cleared her throat to continue in a stronger voice, “I’d be honored.” Then, she glanced down at the dress she was wearing. “Maybe tomorrow?” she added.

Cassian laughed that hearty, deep laugh that always made her heart clench. “Can’t wait, sweetheart.”

So here she was, the next day, riding Cassian’s motorcycle. She’d been sure to dress more appropriately in her leather pants, jacket, and boots. She asked Cassian to confirm that her outfit was ok, just to make sure. He hummed approvingly as she spun around.

He then sat her down, and put on her elbow pads and knee pads on her. If it had been anyone else, she would have complained incessantly about being treated like a child; because it was Cassian, who touched her so tenderly as he adjusted the straps, she couldn’t feel anything except gratitude and joy. 

“Ready?” He asked as she sat down on the bike. She gave him a thumbs up as he took a step back, gazing as though he was an artist who was looking at the tableau he’d painted. Dressed all in black, atop a black motorcycle, Nesta felt like she cut quite the figure. She felt powerful, as though she could do anything. 

She turned on the engine and was about to get going when Cassian shouted, “Wait!” and ran over to her. She paused, looking up at Cassian as he ran over to her and lifted her face shield. 

He kissed her, hard, and she melted into it. When he pulled away, she sat there for a moment, dazed. She brought a hand to her lips and continued to stare at Cassian. His parted lips were dark red, stained with her lipstick. 

She took a deep breath, blinking a few times to regain her focus and dispel all the images of a naked Cassian from her mind. She pulled down her face shield, revved the motorcycle, and set off. 

“But- how did you get Cass to agree to let you ride his bike?” Azriel asked, astounded.

Nesta shrugged, grinning. “What, like it’s hard?”

She zoomed off as the light turned green, leaving Rhys and Az in the dust with their mouths hanging wide open. 

__________

Present day

“I’ll cherish that moment forever,” Nesta laughed. 

Cassian grinned back at her, then pointed to a picture in the bottom row. 

“You know what I’ll cherish forever? This one.”

Nesta looked at it and sighed. “Great, now mine seems shallow. Why do you have to be so kind and thoughtful?”

“I’ll try to stop.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

__________

Four years ago

Cheers filled the rink.

“GO DRAKON!” yelled the girl sitting right next to Nesta.

Emerie, who was sitting on her other side, held back a hissing Nesta by grabbing both her shoulders. 

“That was ridiculous,” Nesta said through clenched teeth. “Why isn’t the ref saying anything? That was definitely a foul!” 

“It was a beautiful goal,” Rhysand corrected.

Nesta’s fiery glare turned to him and he withered as she snapped, “Whose side are you on?”

It was Nesta’s first time being at Cassian’s game. Of course, she’d seen his games on TV before, but both of them had agreed that she should wait before attending a game and being in the presence of all his fans and the media. Now that they had been officially dating for over a year, they’d both felt it was time. Nesta’s best friends, Gwyn and Emerie, had decided to accompany her. They had both claimed that they just wanted to watch the game, but she knew that they really were there to provide her with moral support.

Sadly, Cassian’s team — the Velaris Ghost Leopards — was currently losing 4-2 to the Adriata Sirens. Nesta, who never followed ice hockey closely until meeting Cassian, had been yelling up a storm as passionately as any long-time die-hard Ghost Leopards fan. They were about halfway through the third period and any hope that the Ghost Leopards could win was slowly disappearing. Especially as Jurian Zbirak, the Sirens’ center, passed discreetly to Varian Ulwandle, the left winger who was famously good at scoring. 

“I can’t watch,” Gwyn grimaced as Varian got past the Ghost Leopards’ defenceman, Andras Lupo. The crowd held their breath as Varian took the shot and- 

“Saved!” Emerie yelled as Rhysand let out a whoop. 

Thesan Vu, the Ghost Leopards’ goalie, had managed to save it beautifully.

Nesta gasped loudly as Kallias Neve, the Ghost Leopards’ center, took the puck and skated forward. Unfortunately, the other team’s defense was extremely strong, and caught sight of him almost immediately. Kallias cut sharply to the left, but the defenseman Eris Vanserra quickly shifted positions to block him. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nesta chanted. Emerie was biting her nails anxiously next to her and Azriel was covering his mouth with his hands.

Kallias tried to deke Eris by feigning left and then cutting right, but Eris had seen through his tricks and was about to steal the puck when- 

Nesta jumped out of her seat. “Look!”

Kallias had managed to trick Eris after all. He’d drop passed the puck to Cassian, who was now zooming towards the goal. By the time Eris and Devlon Lyons, the other Sirens defenseman, realized and headed for Cassian, it was already too late. 

Nesta held her breath as Cassian got into position, took the shot and- 

“He scored!” Nesta cheered at the top of her lungs. 

Her throat was definitely going to be sore tomorrow but she didn’t even care. 

She watched as Cassian lit up with glee and his teammates congratulated him. This was why she cheered so hard, why she cared so much about the sport. It wasn’t as though she’d magically become obsessed with ice hockey when she’d met Cassian. No, it was the joy that the sport brought him and the way he put his heart and soul into it — giving it his all at every game, every training, every play — that made her passionate about it. Cassian worked so incredibly hard at hockey and it was such a big part of his life. How could something so important to him not be important to her, too? 

Cassian’s eyes locked on hers. Nesta froze. 

He brought his left hand to his lips and blew her a kiss. 

The crowd went wild as Cassian’s fans assumed he’d blown it to them. But Nesta could only sit down, dazed. She didn’t know why she felt so shocked that her boyfriend had blown her a kiss. They’d done far more than kiss, for gods’ sake. Perhaps it was because it had been in front of everyone, like Cassian was declaring his affection for her publicly and showing that he wasn’t ashamed of being with her. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d thought of her in the middle of a game, as though he never stopped thinking about her, even when he was singularly focused on ice hockey.

Emerie elbowed Nesta in the ribs and stage-whispered, “Your face is red, you know.” 

“Shut up,” was Nesta’s dignified response.

With five minutes left in the period, the Sirens held control of the puck.

“Are they just wasting time, trying to run out the clock?” Nesta huffed. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

Drakon Aliyev — the Sirens’ right winger — kept passing back and forth with the Jurian and Varian, barely moving forward. 

“C’mon!” Rhysand jeered. 

Suddenly, with thirty seconds left on the clock, Jurian sped forward. He weaved between Ghost Leopards’ players, dodging and deking them. 

Twenty seconds. 

Andras closed in on Jurian, but Jurian back passed to Drakon right before Andras caught up to him. Drakon skated past them, zigzagging to avoid the other players who attempted to catch up to him. 

Ten seconds.

As Lucien — the Ghost Leopards’ other defenseman — moved in to body-check him, Drakon made eye contact with Varian, who had skated forward and was completely open. Drakon turned towards Varian, leaning his left shoulder down to pass to him.

Five seconds. 

Lucien shifted to guard Drakon’s right side, blocking him from passing to Varian. 

Four.

Drakon turned his hockey stick, which was on the left of the puck, to position it behind the puck, and aimed at the goal. Lucien scrambled to move back to his previous position in front of Drakon. 

Three. 

Drakon’s stick hit the puck, taking a strong shot. It flew through the middle of Lucien’s legs, headed straight towards the goal.

Two. 

Thesan shifted his stick and crouched down, moving into position to block the puck. 

One.

The puck landed on the ice a hair’s breadth in front of Thesan and slid through the small gap between his stick and his foot, straight into the goal.

Zero.

The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts. 

Nesta was chief among them. “What? That’s crazy! The puck was not completely over the line before the buzzer! Why the fuck are they counting it?” 

“It actually was,” Rhysand replied. “Wasn’t it an amazing buzzer beater, Az?”

Nesta was fuming. “What? Were you even watching the game? About a third of the puck hadn’t crossed the line! Don’t you agree, Az?” 

Az looked between them with wide eyes and then wisely chose to say, “Hey, why don’t we try to go catch Cassian before he has to go to the changing room?” 

Nesta was still grumbling as they walked up to where Cassian was talking to his teammates.

Azriel tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around, his disappointed frown turning into a friendly smile. Then, his eyes landed on Nesta and his expression softened. 

Nesta peered up at him and sent him a small smile. But a second later, she resumed her muttering, hissing under her breath, “I can’t fucking believe the refs don’t give a shit about the Sirens’ blatant cheating.”

Rhysand, who was standing right next to Nesta, groaned loudly. Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. “This one,” Rhys began, tilting his head towards Nesta, “hasn’t stopped complaining about the Sirens and the refs.” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “They didn’t fucking cheat, Nesta. They won. Just accept it and move on.” He turned to Cassian with a glance that said ‘urg, can you believe her?’ 

Unfortunately for Rhysand, he was not met with the sympathetic backup he’d anticipated from Cassian. Instead, Cassian’s face split into a huge grin that only widened when Nesta retorted, “Well, it’s true! I swear the puck wasn’t fully over the line when I heard the buzzer. The refs were definitely biased, because they called the Ghost Leopards’ offsides in period 1 but not any of the Sirens’ fouls!” 

He let out a breathy laugh as wonder and joy lit up his eyes. He enveloped Nesta with his arms, burying his smile in her hair. 

Time froze.

Their eyes closed like camera shutters as they stood still, taking in the moment and committing it to memory. They were both silent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions.

An eternity later, Cassian broke the silence, whispering “Thank you” into Nesta’s neck. He let her go, but not before pressing a kiss against her cheek.

__________

Present day

“You know, it meant the world to me to see that you defended me so fiercely.” Cassian’s tone was sincere but still light, as one could only be with those whom they’d been vulnerable with many times before. “To know that you cared so much about me… well. It’s not like no one cared about me before, you know, obviously I had Rhys and Az and stuff, but I still struggled with really believing that people could care about me — that I could matter to people. That moment… Of course it didn’t completely ‘fix’ me,” Cassian made air quotes with his fingers, “but I think that’s when it really clicked and I realized that you felt the same way about me that I felt about you — that I mattered to you, too.”

Nesta swallowed, realizing that she was choking up, which was extremely uncharacteristic of her. The closest she usually got to crying was when she read about fictional characters, and even then she almost never felt tears welling up as they were now. 

“I love you,” Nesta answered quietly. It was the truth, plain and simple. “You matter to me, and you always have.”

“I love you too,” Cassian answered. His hand reached out to cover hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

A moment later, he pointed to another polaroid in the bottom row. 

“This one was next, right?”

“Yeah,” Nesta said, her eyes twinkling as she reminisced. “Those views were so worth it, but damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired and sore.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh really? Not even-”

“Nope,” Nesta interrupted with a smirk of her own.

Cassian blinked, as though her reply had genuinely shocked him. Once he recovered, he answered, “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?” 

He winked. 

Nesta rolled her eyes, but brought a hand to cheek to cover what she assumed was her rather obvious blush. 

__________

Four years ago

“Are you sure you don’t need to drink more water?” Cassian asked again.

“Yes, Cassian, I’m just as sure as I was when you asked me two seconds ago,” Nesta replied, a small smile on her lips despite her slight irritation at his repetitive questioning. Nesta would never in a million years admit that she liked Cassian’s coddling, but in truth she did enjoy knowing how much he cared. 

They’d decided to get away from the city for a week to go on the backpacking trip they’d been talking about for months now. Miraculously, Cassian’s off-season had aligned perfectly with Nesta’s and they intended to make full use of it. 

Initially, they had considered inviting some of their friends and family to join them on a hike to a different location, but after Nesta’s argument with Rhysand over reproductive freedoms dissolved into an intense shouting match with personal attacks, Cassian had decided to limit the trip to just the two of them. He’d hoped to give them some space from each other to help them cool off. 

There was also an additional reason he had decided not to invite anyone else — most notably Rhysand — that he hadn’t told Nesta. The day after the row, Cassian had gone to see Rhysand, hoping to help clear the air. Instead of being regretful and guilty, Rhysand had been stubborn, claiming that Nesta was the only one who needed to apologize. He called Nesta a “vicious bitch”, saying that he didn’t know why Cassian would want to be with such a “fucked up person who clearly had way too many issues” and “only wanted Cassian for the money and fame”. When he laughed, “The sex must be really good for you to put up with her,” spitting out the last word as though Nesta was the scum of the Earth who wasn’t even worthy of being named by Rhysand, Cassian had exploded. 

He’d completely lost it, snarling and hurling insults at Rhys. He’d yelled that Rhys was clearly so insecure that he couldn’t accept when he was wrong and had to tear others down to try to fix his fragile ego. 

“Maybe you want to pretend you’re perfect because you don’t know how to love people, flaws and all,” Cassian had hissed. “So yeah, Nesta might have some ‘issues’ but so do I. And guess what? That’s fine. We still care about each other, for real. Unlike you, we don’t feel the need to lie about who we are. At least our relationship is real and is based on honesty and truth.” 

It had been a low blow, to allude to his previous relationships. Rhys had dated Amarantha, a wealthy actress and politician’s daughter, at his parents’ request back when Rhys’ dad, Hadrian, was still running the conglomerate called Night Court Corporations which was later passed down to Rhys. This had been both a PR stunt, which showed rivals just how strong and influential their family was and distracted the media from Ayla’s underage drunk driving, and a way to gain Amarantha’s father’s support in giving Night Court Corporations a tax break. Their relationship had been faker than Amarantha’s tan. 

His only real relationship before Feyre had been with Carmella, a girl who worked at a coffee shop he used to frequent, although calling it ‘real’ was a stretch, as Rhysand had lied to her about his family and his past. They had dated for almost a year, and Az and Cassian had met the poor girl numerous times, but Rhysand had insisted that he would keep being ‘Reese, son of an office worker’ when he was with her in order to avoid ‘getting used’. 

So yes, the comment had been mean and Cassian had felt slightly guilty about it, despite it being true. 

But then, Rhys had retorted, “Real? Please, Cassian, I can’t believe that you can’t see through her! She doesn’t ‘care about you’ or whatever, she only cares about the money, just like everybody else like her!”

Cassian’s eyes had narrowed and he’d slowly bit out, “Like her? What do you mean by that?”

His eyes had flashed with rage and pain, because he’d known exactly what Rhysand meant. 

His suspicions were confirmed when Rhys’ expression had twitched. He’d meant people who weren’t as famous, as well-to-do, as wealthy. People who didn’t have a trust fund or a summer house or extra cars. People who couldn’t take vacations or make big purchases without saving up first. People who couldn’t say ‘money isn’t a problem’. People like Nesta who had to have side jobs in addition to their main one just to be able to afford rent in a city like Velaris. And people like Cassian, for whom even food and housing and safety had never been a guarantee, let alone new clothing or vacations. 

Rhysand had just implied that Cassian had never cared about Rhysand or Shirina or Ayla or Hadrian. That Cassian had only been with them for the money and that all the love he had for them was fake. 

Rhysand stayed silent.

Cassian repeated, “What do you mean, Rhys?”

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. It wasn’t about- I’m just trying to help you! She doesn’t actually care.” At Cassian’s murderous glare, he amended, “And even if she does, she doesn’t deserve you! I’m just trying to rescue you, man.”

“Rescue me?” Cassian laughed, coldly. “I’m not some semi-homeless kid anymore. I don’t need a fucking hero to save me. Maybe you want to think I’m some helpless victim because you can’t stand the fact that I’m finally happy and I don’t need you anymore. How are you going to feed your savior complex now?”

Rhysand scoffed, glaring down at him as though Cassian were a peasant and he were a god. It only served to fuel the cold flames of Cassian’s anger.

“Or maybe you don’t like that I’m succeeding,” Cassian said, his voice quiet and dangerous. “You don’t like that I’m rich and famous and I did it all on my own. I worked hard and got here and I’m only gonna keep rising. Who are you gonna look down at now to remind yourself just what a special little boy you are?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Rich? Please, Cassian, you’re doing okay, but you could never be as rich as me. And all on your own? Need I remind you that I gave you a house and food and clothes? I paid for your hockey gear and for chauffeurs to drive you to games. You worked hard, sure, but so did I. We’re the same, so stop trying to act like you’re any better than me.”

“Aww, did I hurt your fragile little ego?” Cassian pouted mockingly. “You know that you didn’t do any of that, right? Shirina and Hadrian paid for all those things. And yes, they helped me, but at least I got my job because of skill and hard work. You got yours because you were born a boy. We’re not the same and we’ll never be.”

“You’re right,” Rhysand replied coolly. “We’re not the same. I don’t know why I ever bothered to pretend otherwise.”

Cassian had stormed out, tossing a “By the way, it’s called a taxi, not a chauffeur!” over his shoulder as he exited.

Admittedly, it had not been his best comeback.

After that incident, Cassian had decided not to speak to Rhys for a while, let alone invite him on any trips.

As they hiked up the hilly landscape, Cassian was grateful he’d decided to spend this time alone with Nesta instead. Somehow, the whole trip felt so much more meaningful with her by his side, like this was a glimpse at the life they were building together. 

“Gods, my legs are definitely going to hurt after today,” Nesta mumbled as they hiked up an especially steep section.

“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break- or should I carry you?” Cassian hurriedly replied. 

Nesta just laughed, staring pointedly at his backpack. “Literally how?”

Cassian gestured to his front. “You doubt my strength?”

“Yes,” Nesta teased, sticking her tongue out at him before speed walking ahead. 

“Wait up!”

Each night, they shared a tent. Despite starting out in sleeping bags on separate mattress pads, they always ended up cuddling together, supposedly for warmth. A couple nights in, Nesta figured out how to zip their sleeping bags together to create a single larger sleeping bag, whispering “Oh no, there’s only one bed!” as she did so. 

Every morning, Cassian would wake Nesta up with a kiss to her cheek. She’d always scrunch her face and groggily mutter, “No, don’t do that, I’m disgusting.”

“You could never be disgusting, sweetheart,” Cassian would reply, prompting Nesta to open her eyes only to roll them at him. 

When they finally arrived at Windhaven Overlook, their destination, they spent a day admiring the views and having a small picnic. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Nesta said, resting her head on Cassian’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you’d want to share this with me.”

Cassian kissed her forehead in response. 

He had been to this spot only twice before, but it was still one of the most important locations for him. 

The first time, Enalius had brought him here. Enalius was a man close to Cassian’s heart. They’d first met when Enalius approached Cassian, whose face was glued to a window, watching an ice hockey team practice. Cassian had snuck into the skating rink for warmth and to use the vending machines and the water fountains, but had let his guard down, enthralled by the skaters. 

“Are you spying on them?” were the first words out of Enalius’ mouth. 

“What? NO!” Cassian had tried to run, but Enalius clasped his shoulder with a strong arm. 

“Really? What team do you play for?”

“I don’t play hockey!” 

At that, Enalius had frowned. “Really? That’s a shame. I think you might be good at it. Why don’t you ask your parents to sign you up for a class sometime?” 

Cassian’s eyes had dropped to the floor. “No, that’s okay.”

“C’mon, now,” Enalius had tried again. “I’m sure you could be better than those boys in no time.”

“I’ve never even skated before.”

Enalius raised an eyebrow as Cassian furiously backtracked, realizing that he’d basically admitted he’d snuck in. 

“Uh, I mean, I’ve never skated in, uh, hockey rinks with, uh-”

Enalius smiled. “Don’t worry, kid.” He looked Cassian up and down once more and sighed, “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try? You’ll never know what it’s like until you give it a go.”

Cassian shrugged.

“Well, if you ever think you want to, just tell the lady at the counter over there that Enalius Ramiel told you to sign up for a lesson with him, okay? And get your parents to sign all the release forms and stuff.”

“Oh, they, uh, can’t do that.”

Enalius cocked his head. “Should I talk to them? Don’t worry, lessons aren’t actually that expensive, and I’ll give you a little discount.”

“No, um, you can’t talk to them,” Cassian mumbled uncomfortably.

Enalius took a step back. “Sorry kid, didn’t mean to pressure you. Lemme know if you ever want me to talk to your parents or anything.”

As Enalius started to turn around, Cassian was suddenly caught by a panic and blurted, “You can’t talk to them ’cause they’re dead.” 

Enalius froze. 

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I see.” 

He studied Cassian’s face for a moment and then grabbed his hand, power-walking towards the check-in counter. They cut to the front of a long line of people as Enalius flashed a badge.

“Hey, Val, can we book rink 3 for a private lesson?” Enalius asked the lady at the counter with a grin. 

“Sure, when do you want to schedule it for?” 

“Now.” 

Val raised her eyebrows. “Now? Are you joking?” 

Enalius shook his head. 

Val just sighed. “Fine, but I don’t think the ice has been refreshed in a while. Also, it’s booked after 5:30, so you’ve got a little less than an hour.”

“Thanks, Val, you’re the best.” Then, he turned to Cassian. “What size are your feet?” 

“Um… 6?” Cassian guessed, rounding up a size from his current too-small sneakers. 

“A pair of size 6 hockey skate rentals, too,” Enalius added. “Put it all on my tab.”

Then, he leaned in to whisper something Cassian couldn’t hear, which made Val sigh, “Oh, Ali, I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

The next hour had changed Cassian's life. He’d started out wobbling, barely staying vertical and walking instead of skating on the ice. By the end, he was gliding effortlessly, skating around and in between the cones Enalius set up. He fell in love with ice skating. 

So Cassian returned, day after day, getting free private lessons from Enalius, and he soon became enamored by ice hockey, too.

Enalius became Cassian’s mentor, not only teaching him hockey but also buying Cassian snacks or dinner and making sure he got back safely. It was Enalius who later introduced Shirina, his childhood friend, to Cassian, further changing his life.

It wasn’t until much later that Cassian learned what a famous and successful hockey player Enalius was. Enalius remained Cassian’s coach right until he joined the NHL himself.

There were few people who were as important to Cassian as Enalius. And that was why this place that Enalius had brought him to years ago was so special to Cassian. 

Shirina, Hadrian, Rhysand, and Ayla had decided to go abroad and travel alongside some cousins during fall break. Enalius had overheard Shirina hesitating about leaving Cassian home alone for the week and had offered to take him on a trip of their own. Cassian, who had never been on a trip as far as he was aware of, was ecstatic and it did not disappoint. It became one of Cassian’s best memories.

The second time he came to this spot was after Shirina’s death. Rhysand and Ayla had been inconsolable, each grieving in their own way: Rhysand never spent a moment alone, as though he could bury his feelings in the high of socializing and parties, while Ayla barely spoke or even left her room. Hadrian was trying his best to keep it together, but was clearly in way over his head — managing the children and their emotions had always been Shirina’s department, not his. Luckily, their extended family had flown into town to help them all. Friends and acquaintances had reached out, trying to find ways to support them through all the grief. 

Cassian, who couldn’t really be classified as a friend or family to Shirina, had been overlooked. It wasn’t like he expected anything different, but watching everyone comforting each other and ignoring him hurt. It was as though he had no right to grieve — to be this hurt by her death — and maybe he didn’t, but she had been the closest thing he’d had to a parent since he’d been 5 years old. He’d loved her, too. No, he wasn’t her child, but he was something to her, even if it couldn’t be labeled so easily. 

Now she was gone and whatever they had been was erased. It didn’t matter that he’d used his first paycheck to buy her a birthday present, or that she had attended all his home NHL games, or that they’d often go on walks together. It didn’t matter that she always knew when he needed a hug or that she’d taught him how to cook. 

Cassian had decided to hike to Windhaven Overpass to get out of his own head. 

The journey had helped him to process his emotions. The sunsets and the plant life around him had seemed far more beautiful that time, reminding him of how much Shirina had loved nature. At night, the stars seemed brighter than normal, and he recalled Shirina explaining to him that in her culture, stars were considered to be ancestral and guardian spirits looking down at you and guiding you. 

Cassian felt like Shirina had been there, watching him from the sky and reaching out with a comforting hand as he struggled. That trip, he had gotten angry and laughed joylessly and sobbed. He’d felt empty and about to explode at the same time. He had gotten to be something different from the strong, smiling version of himself that he usually presented to the public. In the end, the trip had helped him find some sort of closure and peace with Shirina’s death.

Now, Cassian had brought Nesta here.

He had told her about his prior trips with Windhaven and what the location meant to him, but actually bringing her here was a sign that Cassian was willing to be vulnerable with her. 

He had always feared people would leave him and that he was replaceable, and worried about tainting such a special place with memories of someone who would later leave his life. 

And yet, Cassian had brought her here.

“This spot is important to me, Nes, and so are you,” Cassian said. “Thank you for coming. It’s my honor to be here, with you.”

He didn’t say: ‘I’m not worried about bringing you here because what we have is different — it’s meant to last.’

He didn’t say: ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about enough to let myself be vulnerable like this with — you could destroy me, but I’m willing to take that chance.’

He didn’t say: ‘I love you.’

And yet, that was what they both heard.

__________

Present day

“I knew you were in love with me the second you invited me on that trip,” Nesta smirked. 

“Sweetheart, I was gone for you way before then,” Cassian laughed. 

“That’s true,” she grinned. “You had an embarrassingly massive crush on me for the longest time. And you must’ve loved me a whole lot to let me get away with making Rhys grovel like that.”

“First of all, get your facts straight: I still have an embarrassingly massive crush on you,” he replied. “And secondly, well, Rhys deserved it and also it was really entertaining to watch.”

The day after they’d gotten back, Rhysand had sent Cassian and Nesta a long message, asking them to meet up so that he could apologize in person. Nesta decided that they should talk to Rhys separately. 

Cassian went first. Rhys apologized profusely for all the names he’d called Nesta, for all the things he’d implied about Cassian, and for all the insults. Cassian in turn apologized for his part, and the two of them had a chat in which Rhys admitted that he’d acted like an entitled prick and that he was genuinely sorry. They made up and quickly forgave each other, like the pseudo-brothers they were.

Nesta and Rhysand were an altogether different story. Rhysand apologized to her as well, but she answered that while she accepted his apology, she could not forgive him so easily. 

She understood that he didn’t like her, and that was his right, but she also felt that he couldn’t try to make claims about her character when he barely knew her. She told him that she was perfectly fine with having a tepid relationship with him where they would only speak when strictly necessary or that they could try to get to know each other better. Rhysand went with the second option. From there, they went on to have many long discussions. Once they’d gotten a bit closer, Nesta returned to their original point of contention: reproductive freedoms. She made Rhys listen to podcasts and read articles and watch videos about what reproductive freedom really was and why it was so important. “You don’t have to change your opinion,” she’d said, over and over. “You just need to be informed before you try to make claims about what others should or shouldn’t do with their bodies and their lives.”

It was only months later that Nesta finally stopped putting him through the wringer and told him that she’d forgiven him. 

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Cass. It definitely was all for your entertainment, no other reason at all for us to argue,” Nesta replied dryly.

Her eyes drifted to the polaroid in the bottom right corner. “Now that,” she pointed, “that was entertainment. What a show!” She licked her lips and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly. 

“It was completely staged, of course,” Cassian joked. “The whole thing was just for your pleasure.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “My ‘pleasure’?” 

“My, my, what a dirty mind you have, Nesta!” Cassian fake-gasped. “A proper gentleman would never imply something so improper to a lady like yourself.”

“A proper gentleman? Where?” she retorted without missing a beat. 

He clutched his chest. “You wound me, m’lady.” He shook his head. “And to think, I was your knight in shining armor that day…”

“More like knight in very little armor.”

__________

Three years ago

Plunk.

They watched, immobilized by shock, as the necklace drifted below the water’s surface. 

It fell slowly, until it became only a vague shadow in the water.

“Nesta?” “Nesta, are you ok?” 

Voices faded in and out of Nesta’s awareness. She tried to force herself to smile, to nod that she was completely, totally fine. Unfortunately, she seemed to have lost the ability to control her body. 

It was so, so stupid. She’d been having such a wonderful day. And now, she’d ruined it.

Cassian and Azriel had prepared a group trip to Ravennia Park, complete with a lovely picnic lunch in the field of blooming daffodils. Cassian had even made sure to include all her favorite foods in the lunch. Afterward, they walked around the park, stopping occasionally to take pictures or listen to birds. 

They had stopped on this small bridge so that Feyre could take pictures of the glistening lake and the paddling of ducks that had just entered the water. Nesta had leaned over the railing, chatting with Cassian as she watched the colorful koi fish swim.

Her necklace had snapped suddenly, tumbling into the water before anyone could react. 

Her silver necklace, which her father had given her for her eighth birthday, disappeared under the surface of the lake. Gone, just like her middle school best friend, Clare Beddor, who had drowned herself in a pool. Gone, just like her father.

Until her mother got sick, Nesta had had an amazing relationship with her father. She would sit next to him, listening intently as he explained how trading and shipbuilding worked. She was always the one to run and open the door when he came home from work, enveloping him in a hug. She loved it when he read her bedtime stories and watched her dance around the living room.

Then, everything changed. Her illusion that he could do no wrong broke when her mother told her that the reason she wasn’t getting better from her illness was that they couldn’t afford good doctors and medicine since her father had lost his job. After that, Nesta’s resentment only grew as the misfortunes piled up. Her mother died and they couldn’t afford the funeral that she’d wanted. Her sisters had to change schools. They moved into a smaller house, with a bedroom that all three sisters shared. They struggled to put food on the table. 

When her father decided to sell art instead of looking for another job, saying he couldn’t rely on others to give him work, Nesta fumed. How could he sit there, carving wood and drinking beer, while Feyre worked overtime at her job in addition to school and she and Elain did all the cooking and cleaning? Nesta had vowed to leave as soon as she could, and, it turned out, that ballet allowed her to leave the nest sooner than expected. 

Still, she’d felt guilty leaving her sisters to fend for themselves in that house, and then felt even angrier at her father for not taking care of them and putting Nesta in a position where she felt guilty for following her dreams. 

Suffice to say, Nesta had a difficult relationship with him — one that was made all the more complex when he died of a sudden heart attack. 

It had taken Nesta a long time to process and make peace with his death. 

She’d decided to wear the necklace her father had given her today, in honor of his birthday. Once upon a time, she had worn this necklace all the time, showing off the token of her father’s affection. By putting it back on, she felt like she was healing a teenage Nesta, who had violently taken off her necklace at her mother’s funeral and shoved it into the drawer of her bedside table. 

And now, it was lost forever. 

“Nesta?” 

Cassian’s voice cut through her haze and she lifted her eyes to see his worried expression. He brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it softly. It grounded her, bringing her back to the present, but she didn’t react — couldn’t react — more than just blinking at him dazedly. 

Cassian took a deep breath. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and removed it in one smooth motion, his pants quickly following suit. Before Nesta could process what was happening, he climbed over the railing and plunged into the lake. 

Nesta could only cling to the railing, shocked silent for a new reason as she waited, praying to all the gods she barely believed in that his head would emerge from the water. 

She tried to dispel all the fears that swam around in her mind, taunting her about the dangers of the lake. The water plants that could ensnare even experienced swimmers’ feet and drown them, the animals that could bite and eat him, the sharp rocks that could injure him, the current that could pull him under — the possibilities were endless.

Cassian’s head emerged from the water and she felt her heart unclench, just for a second, until he disappeared once more. 

This jerked Nesta out of her stupor. 

“Cassian,” she called out. “Cass! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here! ” Her voice grew increasingly panicked as there was no response. 

“It’s dangerous, are you insane? Cassian? Cassian!”

Her shouts only stopped when Cassian surfaced. His broad shoulders and defined abs glistened in the sunlight as drops of water rolled down his chest. The bun his hair had been in had come upon, and now his dark, wavy-curly mane was streaming down his back. His brown skin was slick with water and drops clung to his long eyelashes. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing that he looked exactly how she’d imagined a merman to be. 

Her lips parted as he stepped out of the water. She forced her eyes away from his soaking wet underwear that clung to his body, defining every inch of it. Her gaze fixed on his chest instead. She knew she should be focusing on Cassian’s face or the necklace in his hand but he was so fucking distracting. Soaked Cassian was criminally delectable. 

“Nesta?” 

Cassian’s voice was worried, probably since Nesta still wasn’t speaking.

“Nes,” he whispered, gently tilting her head upwards with a finger under her chin. 

Their eyes met. Cassian’s concern was wiped off his face and was instantly replaced by a smirk.

“Lost your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased.

Though she had indeed lost the ability to speak, she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. No, she would play his game and beat him at it. 

She licked her lips slowly. She tilted her head back to expose the column of her throat while she swallowed sharply, knowing how it drove him crazy. Cassian made a low noise in the back of his throat, as though he was trying and failing to suppress a groan. Then, he put his arms on her shoulders, turning her around. 

“Lift up your hair,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers across her body. 

She did as he requested. He put the necklace back on her neck, patiently working the tiny clasp. His fingers brushed her neck, and even the cold silver of the necklace couldn’t cool the heat that spread within her. When the necklace was securely fastened, she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

She took a moment to look deep within his eyes. 

She would have to yell at him later for risking his life for a piece of jewelry, but nonetheless she appreciated what he had done. He was one of the only people who knew that she had a fear of deep water due to its association with Clare, and was also the only person who knew what putting this necklace back on meant for her. Yes, it was only a necklace, but he had also saved her from reopening the wounds of her complex relationship with her father and her past self. 

So she kissed him, knowing he would understand every conflicting thought and emotion that she pressed against his lips. And when his hand came up to support her neck, she knew that he was answering ‘I’m here for you, always.’

__________

Present day

“I knew you were objectifying me,” Cassian pouted mockingly.

Nesta nodded. “Oh, for sure. You’re nothing but a sexy hunk to me.” 

She leaned closer to him. “That’s why I said I love you first.” She tapped the picture in the top left corner. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

Nesta hummed as though she were seriously contemplating the issue. “How about… forever?” 

Cassian’s eyes sparkled and his mouth twisted around, as though he were trying to hold back a grin. 

“Urg, fine,” he said. His attempt to appear annoyed failed completely as he sounded more amused than anything else. “As long as you know I loved you first.”

It was Nesta’s turn to roll her eyes in mock annoyance, despite knowing that he was likely correct. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

__________

Three years ago

It was the final match of the Alfheim Ice Hockey Championships. If the Velaris Ghost Leopards managed to beat the Hybern Hydras, they would win the Fionn Cup for the first time in history. 

The game was extremely close, with both teams tied at 2-2, though not for lack of trying. The Hydras were playing atrociously dirty by anyone’s standards. They had already received numerous green and yellow cards, but it didn’t seem to deter them from continuing to foul the Ghost Leopards. 

Nesta cheered as Andras blocked Keir Hewn’s attack. Lucien swept in, stealing the puck from Keir, and passed it across the ice to Cassian. Cassian bluffed and wove his way through the Hydras’ defensemen. 

“C’mon, Cass, c’mon,” she chanted, her hands clasped together. 

Beron Falls raced to block Cassian, but Cassian passed the puck to Kallias just in time. Kallias dribbled the puck expertly. 

“Please, Kallias, make this shot,” Rhys implored from the seat behind Nesta’s. 

Kallias skated towards the goals, and lifted his stick to shoot. 

Then, the ice erupted in shouts, the umpire blowing the whistle continuously. 

“What just happened?” Gwyn asked but no one had an answer to give her. Nesta just sighed, dropping her face into her hands until she felt Elain tugging at her shoulder. Her eyes followed Elain’s pointed finger to see the jumbotron showing a replay. Andrew Amaranth, the Hydras’ left winger, had come up to Kallias from behind. He grabbed his stick and kicked the back of his calf with the blade of his skates, causing Kallias to fall. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Nesta shouted.

“He’s actually unhinged,” Azriel agreed. 

The umpire called for a yellow and a ten-minute time out.

“It should be a red card,” Gwyn hissed and Nesta loudly agreed. 

The game continued in such a fashion, with the Hydras playing as dirty as possible without getting red cards. 

The game was still tied with five minutes remaining in the third period. 

“We can’t go into overtime,” Azriel muttered to himself, “All our players are getting tired and they’re bound to actually get injured from these fouls.”

“Better overtime than a loss,” Rhys replied.

Nesta looked down at her hands. Her nails had been bitten down to the nub over the course of this game. 

Winning the Fionn Cup was a lifelong dream of Cassian’s. He had worked hard for this. He’d given his life to this sport for years, training every day for hours on end, no matter how tired he was. He studied strategy, honed his body, and worked with his team to figure out how to play into everyone’s individual strengths.

But it was more than that. 

In many ways, the sport had also saved Cassian. It had given him direction and a sense of purpose at a time when he’d felt lost. It had given him a team, when he’d only ever felt alone. It had provided him an alternative to the path he’d thought he was destined for — a path that led to nothing but more despair, where he would just get by, numbly passing through every day and surviving by the skin of his teeth. Ice hockey had opened up a whole new world for him and allowed him to dream of a different future for himself. It had given him hope, showing him a way out of the cycle of sadness that he’d imagined he would be trapped in forever. 

The world had once branded him as useless, as broken, as less than nothing. As he was tossed around from foster home to foster home, sleeping on the street among the trash, the word worthless sank deeper and deeper into his skin. 

Ice hockey was the hand that had reached out and pulled him to his feet, getting him off the ground, out of the shadows and the litter and the endless despair. It had dusted him off and pulled him into the light, where he could get warm and grow and sparkle as he was meant to. 

Now, Nesta wanted the world to acknowledge that Cassian was a champion. She wanted the world to know they’d been wrong to ever dismiss him as anything less than magnificent. She wanted him to win the Fionn Cup and stand proudly in the spotlight, knowing the world now looked up to him. More than anything, she wanted him to know that he was worthy, that he was precious, that he was important. 

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Azriel shouted. Nesta would have raised an eyebrow at him — the ever-brooding, silent and mysterious Azriel — shouting so enthusiastically, if she hadn’t been so caught up in the game.  

Kallias had stolen the puck from Dagdan Maeve and was racing towards the goal. Just as he crossed the center line, the Hydra’s defensemen, Beron and Nolan, closed in on him. Nesta watched as Kallias attempted to fake them out, then made a sharp turn to get away from them, all to no avail. Beron finally caught up to him and moved to steal the puck. With Nolan guarding Kallias’ other side, there was nowhere for him to move, no space for him to pass.

“Oh, I can’t watch,” Rhys hissed, wincing. 

Nesta pressed her lips together, hoping for a miracle, when suddenly the puck disappeared. Kallias had somehow managed to pass it through the narrow gap between Beron and Nolan’s sticks and had hit the puck with such strength that neither of them could move to stop it in time. Cassian received the pass and skated towards the goal. Beron, Nolan, and even some of the forwards moved to stop him, but Nesta knew they wouldn’t make it in time. Not when Cassian was speeding forward, moving like the wind as he skated across the ice. 

Nesta leaned forward in her seat as a feeling swelled up inside her. It was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, hope, fear, pride, and something else — something that made her feel like her heart was in her throat and made her pray that Cassian would score but know she would be there by his side no matter what happened. She had been feeling it for so long now, but had never voiced it — never put words to the feeling for fear that it would shatter the precious thing they’d built. But now Nesta knew it wasn’t something that could be so easily destroyed. No, it didn’t matter if Cassian won or lost, or even got injured. It didn’t matter if Cassian got traded to a team in a different city or Nesta had to switch ballet companies. No matter what, through the ups and the downs, they would be there for each other, helping to shoulder the emotional load. 

As Cassian's hockey stick hit the puck, Nesta wondered why she had been waiting so long when it was so clear what this feeling was. If she was being honest, she’d known it when Cassian dove into the water for her necklace, had known it when he’d brought her to Windhaven, had known it even the first time she’d sat in these seats, cheering Cassian on as he played. 

Cassian’s love was loud. It was in the romantic dates he planned, the surprises and gifts and hugs he showered her with, the weekends when he could sleep in but woke up anyway to make her pancakes. No, he hadn’t said the words either, but his protective arm around her during dinner with his friends and the vulnerable look in his eyes as he prepared a fusion meal that combined their cultural cuisines said all that was needed. 

Nesta’s love was quiet. It was in the fridge restocked with Cassian’s favorite foods, the ways she tended to his injuries after a match, and carefully planned meaningful gifts for his birthday. No, she hadn’t said the words, but she knew that he knew how she felt. 

But now, as the puck flew towards the goal, Nesta wanted to love just as boldly as Cassian. She wanted to show the world how lucky she was to be with him, but more importantly, she wanted Cassian to feel how much she cared about him. She wanted him to know that she was proud to be his. For him, she’d shout their love from the rooftops. She’d give him the whole universe if she could, because the world had been so unkind to him and yet he’d still managed to become the most incredible person in it. She could only offer him her heart, however, and hope that he would find it worthy of keeping. 

The puck grazed the goalie’s glove and Nesta held her breath. The goalie stretched out his fingers to grab it but it flew past him. 

“GOAL!” 

The entire stadium erupted into screams. Cheers of pure joy came from the Ghost Leopards’ side, louder than ever before. Nesta watched as Gwyn, Azriel, Elain, and Rhys jumped up and hugged each other.

Nesta could only stand up in silence, too consumed with her feelings to utter a single sound. For what sound could encapsulate this all-encompassing joy and pride? She looked down at the rink. Cassian’s teammates were all piled up around him in a massive group hug. And in the middle of it all, Cassian was there, beaming. His eyes lifted and met hers. She was grinning, wider than ever before in her life, and lifted her hands to make a heart. 

Cassian’s eyes turned huge. He took a deep breath. 

Perhaps he would have responded in kind, but he was obstructed from Nesta’s view as another teammate jumped to hug him and then the coach yelled at them that the game was restarting. Cassian shot Nesta one last, loaded glance before skating back to his position.

It was all a blur after that. The last few minutes of the match passed without any change.  Both teams’ offenses and defenses were equally matched, and the puck passed between them with no chances to score. When the buzzer rang out, everyone sprung to their feet. 

Nesta cheered, not giving a shit that her voice would be hoarse the next day with how loudly she was screaming. Azriel was jumping up and down like a child — she’d never seen him so overtly joyous. Rhys had tears of joy pouring down his cheeks. Gwyn and Elain were hugging. 

After the awards ceremony, all the interviews, and a rowdy celebration with the team, Cassian finally joined them. 

The second they caught sight of him, they rushed towards him. All five of them reached him at the same time and jumped on him, crushing him as they hugged him and showered him with compliments and congratulations.  

Cassian laughed boisterously. 

“I can’t believe it! I’m friends with a Fionn Cup Champion,” Gwyn gushed.

“Oh, so now we’re friends?” Cassian teased.

Gwyn answered with a playful shove that pushed Cassian back toward Azriel. Az wrapped his arms around Cassian, trapping him.

He pressed a kiss to the side of Cassian’s head as the latter squirmed. 

“Sorry Nes, I’m keeping him,” Azriel joked, tightening his grip as Cassian tried to shake him off. 

“Take him,” Nesta grinned. “He snores.” 

“I do not!” 

Cassian’s protest went ignored.

“Hmm,” Azriel pretended to muse. “But then I could have a real-life Fionn Cup Champion in my room. The price of the noise-canceling headphones will be worth it.”

Nesta shrugged. “I’d be surprised if he fit through your door, now that his ego is going to get even bigger.” 

“True, true. I’d hate for his massive head to break my roof.”

“Hello? I thought you’re supposed to be nice to Fionn Cup winners,” Cassian pouted.

Gwyn laughed. “Nice? Cassian, it’s like you don’t even know us.”

“I can be nice,” Rhys protested.

Everyone proceeded to burst out laughing.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m a demon just like the rest of you.” 

“That’s right,” Nesta grinned. “Accept your true nature and join our pit of darkness.”

Gwyn laughed evilly, “Mwahahaha!”

Nesta lifted her left hand, which Gwyn promptly high-fived. 

“Okay, anyway,” Elain interrupted, “Cassian, are you hungry? You must be tired after that amazing game.”

“Wow, thank you for being so considerate, Elain,” he said, extending her name pointedly. “I am actually pretty hungry and tired and sore after the game.” 

He turned his head to glare at Azriel, who was still holding him.

Az merely rolled his eyes. “Aw, poor baby. Does the little Fionn Cup Champion have a boo-boo?”

“Maybe he needs Nesta to kiss them better,” Gwyn suggested, not bothering to hide her smirk.

“Are you gonna tend to his wounds?”  Rhysand asked. “Nurse him to health?”

“I guess that depends on what it is that he’s hungry for,” Nesta replied with a wink.

They all burst out laughing a second later.

“Wow, you’re all so immature,” Cassian sniffed. “Elain is the only person fit for polite company.”

Rhysand glanced around. “What polite company?”

“Oh, no,” Azriel exclaimed. “We’re blaspheming! Now that Cassian’s won the Cup, we have to refer to him by his proper title: His Highness Sir Cassian of Illyrian.”

“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” Nesta added with a curtsey. “Please, forgive our disrespect.”

“Regency romance,” Gwyn fake-coughed into her elbow. 

“Of course, m’lady,” Cassian winked, “you’re forgiven. Although you may have to be punished for your transgressions.” 

Azriel pretended to gag. “Please, save the foreplay for the bedroom.”

“My poor, innocent ears,” Rhysand groaned. “I’ll never recover.”

Nesta turned to him. “Right, because you’ve never made out with my baby sister in public.” Then, she smirked. “Although, maybe you are innocent if that was too much for you. I mean, how vanilla are you?”

“Cassian,” Elain interrupted. “Do you want to go eat dinner at a restaurant or something?”

“That sounds amazing! How about the Greek place on 10th Avenue?” Cassian replied.

“Oh fine,” Rhys rolled his eyes playfully, “We’ll get food.” 

“I am actually really hungry, too,” Gwyn agreed.

“Well, if Gwyn is hungry, then we gotta go eat now!” Nesta declared.

Azriel nodded, his expression serious.

Cassian sighed. 

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Cassian called out as he walked towards his car with Nesta, “Or not. It’s also fine if you get lost on the way.” 

Azriel responded by raising a choice finger. 

The mirth was still in the air as Nesta closed the car door on the passenger’s side. 

“I can drive if you want,” she joked as Cassian slammed his door shut. Nesta was a notoriously reckless driver. She hated driving unless she had to, and Cassian loved driving, so it usually worked out perfectly. 

He laughed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to live.” 

The car got quiet as the laughter faded. It filled instead with an intimate intensity.

Cassian turned slightly to buckle his seatbelt. 

Nesta reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. Cassian inhaled sharply and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her thumb caressed his cheek. 

“Cassian,” she whispered. She knew the look in her eyes said it all already, but it had said it for so long and she’d never once let her tongue speak it. But Cassian — brilliant, beautiful, splendid Cassian who had been hurt far too much by the world — deserved to hear them aloud. It scared her for too many reasons to count, but if ever there was anyone worth confronting that fear for, it was this man who sat next to her in all his marvelous glory. 

His eyes were open — vulnerable, in a way he always was with her. Sometimes she wondered whether she deserved to be allowed to handle his precious heart that too many had tried to shatter. What if she dropped it or dented it with her harshness? But he entrusted her with it anyway. 

She took a deep breath. Then, she let it out, alongside the words she’d been holding in for so long.

“I love you.”

Cassian’s eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to reply, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Not a single word escaped despite his attempts, but Nesta understood and just smiled, her eyes shining with joy. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to respond.”

Cassian looked frustrated at himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But I- I do. I-” He screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. 

Nesta knew that those three words were not ones Cassian had heard very much in his life. Shirina had likely been the first to say those words to him in his memory, and that hadn’t been til his teen years. Cassian’s mother had most likely loved him, but Cassian’s memories of her were sparse. 

Enalius certainly loved Cassian, but Nesta was just as certain that he would not say it out aloud. Enalius showed his love through his coaching, his cheering, and the letters he’d send from all over the world. 

Ayla, Rhysand, and Azriel also loved Cassian and weren’t shy about it these days, although none of them were particularly vocal about it either. They preferred to show it through gifts and hugs and jokes and advice. When they had met, however, they had all been preteens who wouldn’t have been caught dead saying the words ‘I love you’.

Cassian had certainly had flings and girlfriends in the past. Nesta didn’t know the details of all of his past relationships, but she could easily guess that those words had seldom or, more likely, never been exchanged.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say anything right now.” 

And then, just because she could — because she now had the freedom to say it without being caged by fear — she added, “I love you, Cassian.” 

Cassian answered with a kiss that said, ‘I love you more than words can ever express.’

__________

Present day

“I was such a mess,” Cassian recalled fondly. “Rhys and Az laughed at me for bawling so much.” 

“I remember Gwyn saying that she could take the trophy if it was making you so sad,” Nesta added. 

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it,” he laughed. Then, he added, “I love you.” 

“Are you talking to me or the trophy?” 

“Oh, the trophy, for sure.”

“Oh, good, just wanted to make sure.”

They grinned at each other.

“You have no idea how I felt when I saw you make that heart that day,” he said. “I mean, I was already elated because of the goal I’d just scored, but that couldn’t even compare to how I felt when I looked up at you. I think my heart literally skipped a beat.” 

“Better visit a cardiologist then,” Nesta answered lightly.

Cassian flicked her nose. She shrieked loudly in return.

“You know what you sound like?” Cassian tapped a photo in the middle, which was surrounded by doodles of musical notes.

Nesta mock-gasped. “Excuse you, I wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re right, you were worse.”

__________

Three years ago

“What’s that?” 

Nesta pointed towards a large, lumpy black bag resting against Cassian’s bedroom wall. 

“Oh, sorry, I was practicing earlier and forgot to put it away.” Cassian moved the bag to his closet. “It’s my guitar.”

Nesta placed her hand on Cassian’s wrist before he could shut the closet. 

“You play guitar?” 

“Yeah, it’s something I picked up when living with Shirina. I’m not a pro or anything, but it’s a fun hobby, you know.” 

“Wow, would you… could you play something for me?”  

Cassian seemed surprised but nodded, pulling the guitar back out of the closet. 

He sat down on the floor, his back resting against the bed. “What do you want me to play?”

Nesta sat down beside him. “Anything you want. Just play me something you enjoy playing.”

Cassian absently strummed the guitar a few times, deep in thought.

“Alright, sweetheart. Here we go. This song is called la rosa del principe.” Cassian closed his eyes and started playing. 

Nesta watched him with bright eyes, mesmerized. 

After a while, he started singing. His deep voice complemented the melody he was strumming. His singing was nice, but it was the passion in his voice that warmed Nesta’s insides. 

“Wow,” Nesta whispered when the song ended. 

Cassian chuckled. “Shirina loved that song. She’s the one that signed me up for some guitar lessons, you know. She taught me the lyrics to la rosa del principe when I told her I didn’t know them. She was always humming the melody when she was cooking or doing chores or whatever. I think it was a song her mom liked, so it reminded her of her childhood.”

“Does it remind you of your childhood?”

Cassian took a moment to contemplate his answer. “It reminds me of Shirina, and how kindly and lovingly she treated me. That wasn’t really a common theme in my childhood, you know, but I suppose you could say it reminds me of some of the best parts of my childhood.”

Nesta nudged his shoulder with hers comfortingly. He gently pushed back against her in a silent gesture of gratitude. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. 

Then, Nesta pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Could you teach me?” 

Cassian swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“The lyrics are kind of complicated, since it’s not in English, but I can just teach you the chorus for now if you want.”

“Sure,” she smiled.

Cassian spoke the lyrics slowly. Nesta tried to repeat after him, though she didn’t do the best job judging by Cassian’s chuckles. 

“Close. It’s tramonto, not tremare,” he corrected. 

“What do the lyrics mean?” Nesta asked. 

“The song is a love letter to a rose. It’s a metaphor for loving something so delicate and impermanent,” he explained. “The song is from the point of view of this guy who is so powerful — he’s a prince, he can travel across galaxies, he can do whatever he wants — but he feels so powerless because he knows he can’t control what happens to this rose that he loves. And even though he’s rich and powerful, he gets lonely a lot and his rose is his only companion so he dreads the thought of leaving it or having it disappear.”

“That sounds kind of tragic.”

“I guess so, but it’s not sad per se. It’s more like a reminder of the importance of love rather than materialistic things, and not taking your loved ones for granted.” 

He kissed her cheek. 

Nesta smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

Cassian hummed in agreement. “It’s such a Shirina song. She loved songs with morals like that, that remind you to appreciate what you have. She was so down-to-Earth, even though her husband was one of the richest, most powerful people around here. It’s…” He trailed off with a sigh. 

“I’m glad you met her,” Nesta said quietly after a moment. “She sounds like a great person and I’m so happy you had her in your life.”

“Yeah, me too.” He took a deep breath. “I wish you could’ve met her. I think… I think she would have loved you.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Then, Cassian grinned mischievously. 

“Cas! What the fu-” yelped Nesta as he lifted her up. 

He placed her between his legs with a huff of laughter. She leaned back into him, her back pressing against his front. 

Cassian placed the guitar in her lap. 

“Alright, it’s time for you to learn how to play this magnificent instrument,” he declared. 

“Okay, but I’m just warning you, I don’t really have experience playing instruments.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m just here to help you learn some basics. Besides, you’re a dancer so you have some experience with rhymes and stuff. How bad could you be?”

Holding her hands in his, he demonstrated how to hold the guitar and how to strum a basic chord. 

“You got it!” Cassian cheered as Nesta played a C chord that didn’t sound half bad. 

“Ok, so then,” Cassian moved their hands to a different position. “Use your pointer finger to hold down this string. Good! Your middle finger holds this one and your ring finger holds this one.” 

He continued his explanation of different chords and strumming patterns. 

“So, basically, you just hold down different strings and strum up and down for different notes, right?” Nesta asked as he finished.

Cassian chuckled. “Basically, yeah.”

“Alright.” Nesta wiggled her hands free from Cassian’s grasp and took a dramatic deep breath. “It’s time. I’m going to play.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to play? I haven’t taught you how to play la rosa del principe yet.”

She shrugged. “I’m just going to let my imagination and inspiration guide me.” 

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s going to turn out-”

A jumbled chord cut him off. 

“Um-” 

What followed next was the most chaotic, screechy minute of guitar playing Cassian had ever heard. The torture likely would have continued for longer, since he didn’t have the heart to stop Nesta, if they hadn’t been interrupted by the Cassian’s bedroom door slamming open.

Azriel yelled, “Cassian! I think a cat is dying in your ro- oh, hey Nesta.”

“Hey Az!” she replied, beaming at Cassian’s roommate until she registered his words. “Wait, what? You think I sound like a dying cat?” 

Azriel took a step back, prepared to run away, as Nesta stood up and placed the guitar in Cassian’s lap. 

“Well, you know, uh, it’s good to practice and all, but we don’t want noise complaints from our neighbors, or allegations of animal abuse so…” Az smirked.

“Wha- animal- Get back here you little-” Nesta sprinted down the hallway, chasing after a cackling Azriel. 

Cassian was still sitting there, laughing, when the two of them ran back into the room. 

“Save me, Cass!” Azriel pleaded as he tried to hide behind his friend. 

Nesta smirked. “You really think you can use my boyfriend against me like this?”

“He was my friend first!” Azriel gripped his sleeve.

Nesta rolled her eyes. 

“Please Cassian,” she said in an airy voice. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently tugged on his sleeve. 

He followed her lead without even thinking, until Azriel muttered, “Traitor.”

“Hey, wait-” Cassian interjected, coming to his senses.

Nesta stuck her tongue out at Az. “He loves me.” 

Whatever Cassian could have said on Azriel’s behalf dissipated when her eyes softened as they met his. 

Even Azriel’s over-the-top gagging noises couldn’t ruin the moment as Nesta smiled at him and murmured, “Can you teach me how to play la rosa del principe later?” 

“We’ll see,” Cassian replied with a smile, knowing full well that he’d cave into her demands, no matter the cost to his ears.

__________

Present day

“I love that you wanted to learn how to play guitar for me.” Cassian’s eyes were warm and full of mirth. “Even if playing music isn’t exactly your strong suit.” 

Nesta placed a hand over her heart. “How dare you suggest such a thing.” 

Her stern demeanor gave way to playfulness as she winked, “I guess you’ll just have to sing and play music for me while I dance.”

“Exactly. You see, Nes, we complement each other perfectly.”

“A match made in heaven,” she agreed with a laugh. 

“Honestly, though, it meant a lot to me that you wanted to hear me play,” Cassian said when they stopped laughing, “and that you wanted to learn.”

“It meant a lot to me that you were willing to share such a personal song with me,” Nesta answered, “and that you were willing to be so open with me without prompting. It was like a sign, you know, that our relationship was actually real and meaningful to you, too. Of course I already knew that but, like, I guess it just hit home right then.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. In that moment, I also felt how easy it was to be open and talk about anything and everything with you.”

“You see?” Nesta winked, gesturing between them. “We’re made for each other.”

She glanced down at the pictures between them. 

“At least I don’t need to put up with Az insulting my musical talents anymore, now that you don’t live together.”

“Talents?” Cassian coughed. 

Nesta shot him a warning glare before continuing, “I’m so glad I don’t need to hear him complaining or interrupting us anymore. That was the real reason I asked you to live with me, you know — so I wouldn’t have to hear his whining.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he replied. He leaned closer to her. “It was all part of my plan, Sweetheart.”

__________

Two years ago

“Don’t mind me, I just need to get to the kettle.”

Nesta and Cassian sprung apart at Azriel’s words. 

Azriel, with a bored expression, walked past the couple into the kitchen and filled water in the kettle. 

Cassian hastily redid his fly, clearing his throat a few times. Nesta, blushing furiously, scrambled to hook her bra and do up the buttons on her shirt. 

Azriel turned back around, leaning back against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. He reached into his back pocket for his phone, but noticed Nesta’s expression and rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Nesta, chill. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he growled. 

Azriel shook his head in exasperation. “How many times have I walked in on you two making out — hell, how many times have I walked in on you two fucking in common spaces? At this point, I’m immune to all this.” He waved his hand at Nesta’s half-open shirt and Cassian’s bare chest. 

Cassian slipped his shirt over his head. 

“Really?” Nesta asked, arching a perfectly angled eyebrow and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Cassian elbowed her and she giggled, buttoning up the rest of her shirt. 

“Az-” Cassian began, annoyance coloring his tone.

“No,” Azriel interrupted firmly. “If you don’t want me to walk in or interrupt you or whatever, go do whatever you want in your room. I’ve never once complained about the noise, even when I have to put up with your loud-ass moans and screams. But I have the right to make tea in my own house if I want to.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes. His stance changed unconsciously, gearing up for a fight. He opened his mouth to deliver a biting retort. 

“You’re right, Az,” Nesta interjected before the situation could escalate any further. “We’re sorry.”

Azriel was silent, his eyes fixed on Cassian. The latter let Nesta pull him towards his bedroom. 

About a week later, Cassian and Nesta were once again interrupted. This time, Azriel crunched loudly on his popcorn as he walked into the living room.

Cassian sent him a questioning glare as Nesta scrambled to cover herself.

“What?” Azriel replied, unfazed. “I was gonna watch TV, but, well, it seems like there’s a show right here.”

“Look-”

“C’mon, Cass.” Nesta sprung up from the couch, dressed in Cassian’s shirt, and took her boyfriend’s hand. “I needed to talk to you about something, anyway.” She winked at him and whispered, “I got a little side-tracked and forgot.”

Cassian shot Az a dirty look as he exited the room. 

“Did you actually need to talk about something,” Cassian asked with a smile as he sat down on his bed and placed Nesta on his lap, “or did you just want to distract me?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. 

Nesta laughed lightly. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always lie to manipulate you.” 

He widened his eyes in false disbelief. “Really?”

She shook her head with a grin. “Why would I when I can manipulate you just as well with the truth?”

“Ooh, you saucy witch,” Cassian joked.  

They both laughed.

Nesta pressed a hand to Cassian’s cheek to stop him as he leaned in to kiss her.

“I do actually want to talk about something.”

He leaned back and cocked his head. “What’s up?”

The twinkle in Nesta’s eyes dimmed.

“It’s my apartment.” She swallowed. “My landlord is raising the rent.” 

“Again?” he replied, alarmed. It had only been four months since the last time her rent had increased.

She nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not… I mean, it would be ridiculous for me to stay there, even if I managed to afford it. It’s definitely not worth the new rent.”

“So you want to move?” 

“Yeah.” 

Cassian seemed confused by her nervous tone. “Alright, well, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll help you with all your stuff, and I know a guy with a moving truck. It’ll all be okay. We’ll find you a way better place to live.” 

He gave her an encouraging squeeze and smile that she didn’t return.

“Uh, well, um. Actually, I was wondering if…” Nesta rolled her lips.

Cassian frowned, concerned by Nesta’s hesitant tone.

“Could I- I mean, I already spend so much time at your place,” she continued, “and I stay here a lot and we- um. Since I have to get a new place…”

“Of course you can stay here while you look for a new place!” Cassian replied.

“Oh!” Nesta sounded surprised. “No, I- I mean, thank you. But, uh, that’s not really what I was gonna…” She shook her head, annoyed at her own incoherence. “That’s really sweet of you, Cass.”

Cassian gave her a long look, trying to decipher her thoughts. “Are you trying to find a place on this block? I can try to get the inside scoop if that’s what you were asking.”

“No, no, that’s not what I-” She took a deep breath and then looked into Cassian's eyes. “Would you want to live with me?”

Cassian blinked. “Oh! Oh, I-” He started to grin. Then, he blinked again, and his face fell. “Oh, uh, I…”

“It’s totally fine if not!” Nesta quickly backtracked. “I know you already signed this lease and stuff, and I can definitely just move-”

“No, it’s- I-” It was Cassian’s turn to take a deep breath. “Nesta, I would love to live with you and I’m honored that you asked me and I’m- I’m so, so happy that you want to live with me. But, well, I just don’t know if it will work out, considering.” He shot a glance towards the door. 

Nesta got up from Cassian’s lap. “Oh.” She looked away from him as she gathered her clothes off the floor, trying to disguise her hurt. “Um, okay. Yeah. I get it.” Her thoughts spiraled as she changed out of Cassian’s shirt.

“Nes! Nesta, I…” Cassian seemed to be at a loss for words. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied half-heartedly after a beat. 

“Nes, I just…” he sounded frustrated. “You know how things have been lately, with Az. As much as I… I don’t think it’s realistic to think that he’d be okay with it, and of course I’d talk to him beforehand but, like, it is his place too and…”

She gave a noncommittal hum in reply.

The room was drenched in tense silence.

“Can you just be honest?” Nesta said finally, puncturing the tension. “If you don’t want to move in with me, just say it. I understand you’re renting this place with Az, but he isn’t unreasonable. We both know that if you talked about it, he’d be cool with it. Maybe he’d ask you to wait for a bit, until the end of this lease or whatever, but he wouldn’t stop you. So just tell me why you don’t want to live with me, because I- I thought we were… that this was…”

“I am being honest,” Cassian frowned. 

She gave an irritated sigh. 

“No, really, I am,” he insisted. “You were there with me in the living room, weren’t you? Didn’t you see how pissed he was? I guess maybe it wasn’t- Az isn’t the type to yell or anything. That quiet, passive-aggressive type shit is how he expresses his annoyance.”

“So?” Nesta bit back. “If anything, I would have thought he’d be glad if we weren’t here as often.”

“Exactly! I don’t think we should spend more time here.”

Nesta paused. “What?”

“I know you and Az do get along,” he said, “but I really don’t think he’d be fine with you moving in here.”

“Here? Wait, you thought- Oh. Oh!” Nesta brightened visibly.

“What?” Cassian seemed bewildered by her sudden change in mood. 

“Cassian, I wasn’t asking to move in here,” she laughed. “I was asking you to move in with me at a new place we’ll find together.”

Cassian’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’d love that! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I thought- but- yes!”

Nesta grinned. “I should’ve been clearer, sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s on me.” His face slowly spread into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to work on communicating better if we’re gonna live together, huh?”

“I guess so,” she beamed.

Nesta embraced Cassian tightly. 

“We’re living together!” she whispered excitedly.

He hugged her back. “Yes, we are,” he replied just as thrilled.

__________

Present day

“I can’t believe we were so stupid,” Nesta laughed.

“I know right?” Cassian looked down at the photo once more. “No, but seriously, I was so elated when we moved into this place.”

Nesta smiled fondly. “Yeah, me too. I smiled for, like, 48 hours straight, even though we had to carry all those boxes and,” she paused dramatically, “unpack.” She shuddered. 

“Ah, yes, unpacking — the harshest of struggles.”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind unpacking, but well,” Cassian ran a hand through his hair suavely, “some people are just built different.”

Nesta flipped him off playfully.

“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be jealous,” he replied consolingly, “I have my own weaknesses. Like, I hate packing.”

She huffed. “Cass-”

“What? Oh, c’mon, what’s the point of my trauma if I can’t joke about it?” 

She shook her head with a chuckle. “So you’re saying that all that trauma was just character development so you could increase your humor stats?”

Cassian pointed finger guns at her. “Cha-ching! Now you get it.” 

Nesta laughed. 

She looked around, still awed by the beautiful display Cassian had set up for her. She picked up a rose petal and admired its color and scent. As she fiddled with it, she was suddenly struck by a thought. 

“Where are Ara and Lina?” 

“They’re with Em,” Cassian said reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean all this stuff up before they get back.”

“Oh, they love being at Emerie’s place. They get along so well with Siph, it’s crazy.” Nesta paused, struck by another thought. “Wait, but why did you ask her to watch them? I mean, why did you organize this whole-”

“Remember when we got them?” Cassian interrupted, pointing to another polaroid. “They used to be so tiny! It’s crazy how much they’ve grown.”

Nesta cocked her head, confused by Cassian ignoring her question. Before she could continue her line of questioning, however, her eyes landed on the photo he was indicating and she got sidetracked. 

“Oh my gosh, yeah,” she breathed as she reminisced. “I can’t believe we thought we were going to walk into the shelter without adopting a pet.”

“I can’t believe we told the landlord that we didn’t care about the pet policy because we were never going to get one,” he answered. 

“We’re so lucky we accidentally got an apartment that allows pets,” she agreed. 

“I’ll never forget the look on Cresseida’s face when we told her,” Cassian added. 

She replied, “She made sure we’d never forget. She was saying ‘I told you so’ for months.”

__________

One year ago

 “We’ll stop by for a bit, but we’re not adopting any pets,” Nesta repeated for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“Okay,” Cresseida answered with a knowing smirk, “but it’s also okay if you change your mind.”

Cresseida, Emerie’s girlfriend, ran a pet shelter with her best friend, Nuala. She had invited all of Emerie’s friends to stop by anytime, saying that she and the animals enjoyed having company. 

Nesta and Cassian had resisted at first, since they weren’t looking for pets and, in Nesta’s words, “weren’t the pet type”. Neither of them had ever owned a pet before. While they respected people who loved their pets, they also enjoyed making fun of those who dressed up in matching outfits with their pets for Halloween and talked about their pets as though they were their children. Also, while Nesta didn’t dislike animals per se, she also didn’t like them enough to feel any desire to live with one 24/7, let alone take care of one. Cassian liked animals well enough but he’d had some bad experiences with stray dogs when he was a kid. When they visited friends who owned big dogs who would greet visitors by pouncing on them or barking excitedly, Cassian would always plaster a fake smile on his face, but she’d feel him flinch.  

However, when Emerie used her puppy-dog eyes and pleaded with Nesta to just go once to support her girlfriend’s work, she’d caved and agreed to visit. Cassian and Gwyn — both of whom had yet to visit the shelter — came along with her, saying they should all just get it over with together. 

“This side of the shelter has dogs,” Cresseida said as they walked in, “and this side has cats. There are also some other animals in the back section. Feel free to walk around and ask me if you have any questions. Right now, most of the animals are in their individual kennels and the kennel doors are locked but let me know if you want to play with any of them.” 

“Alright, thanks,” Nesta replied.

She and Cassian shared a look. Both of them wanted to humor Cresseida, who was a great person and also the best girlfriend Emerie had (at least in Nesta’s opinion), but they both knew they wouldn’t be interested in any animals. They would just wander around the shelter until an appropriate amount of time had passed and they could politely leave. 

“Ooh, a kitten!” Gwyn exclaimed, grabbing Nesta’s hand and pulling her into the cat section.

Meanwhile, Cassian followed Cresseida into a different area.

 “Oh my gosh, this baby is only 12 weeks old,” Gwyn cooed at the striped tabby cat. “Isn’t she adorable?”

“She is cute,” Nesta admitted, but Gwyn had already moved on.

“Wow, this cat has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen! Oh, and look at this one! Do you see the face he’s making?”

Nesta laughed and followed her friend, nodding along to Gwyn’s excited commentary. 

Finally, Gwyn came to a halt with a gasp. She kneeled down wordlessly in front of an orange kitten, who blinked back at her sleepily. Nesta kneeled down next to Gwyn. She looked at the kennel in front of her. A jet-black cat was at the other corner of the kennel, hissing and growling at the young boy who was trying to attract its attention. His mother pulled him away just as the cat attempted to scratch the child through the glass. 

“Crazy feral cat,” Nesta heard the mother grumble under her breath as they walked away. 

Nesta raised an eyebrow at the cat, who regarded her with an equally judgemental expression. Nesta took a step closer to the glass. The cat did the same. 

She tuned out Gwyn mumbling something. Instead, she turned her focus to the tag on the kennel.

“Oh, wow, you still don’t have a name even though you’re eight months old, huh,” Nesta said. She had always thought it was a bit silly how pet owners talked to animals as though they could really answer, but now she found it to be the most natural thing in the world. Especially when the cat meowed in response.

Nesta cocked her head. The cat studied her for a few seconds. It stared intensely with its yellow eyes. Then, it tilted its head, copying her. 

She couldn’t help but melt. How was it possible that such a sweet cat had yet to find a home?

“Nesta! There you are!” 

Nesta jolted as Cresseida’s voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“I see you found little Miss Onyx over here,” Cresseida smiled. “I’ve never seen her be so friendly with any customers before.”

“Is her name Onyx, then?”

“Oh, no. We have tried to name her before, but she seems to hate every name we’ve tried, so we kind of gave up,” Cresseida explained. “We couldn’t keep calling her ‘the unnamed black cat’, though, so now we just refer to her by black object names.” Cresseida turned towards the cat. “Isn’t that right, Blackberry?” 

The cat hissed and retreated to the corner of her kennel closest to Nesta. 

Cresseida laughed. “See?” Then, she sent Nesta a knowing glance. “She seems to adore you.”

Nesta glanced back at the cat, who was now sitting with a paw on the glass.

“She is very cute,” she admitted. 

“She is,” Cresseida agreed. “Sadly, she’s fierce enough that she scares away most customers.”

“It’s like she’s made for Nesta!” Gwyn piped up. “I mean, look at her spunky attitude, her fierceness, her witchy vibes — since, you know, she’s a black cat.”

“I don’t have witchy vibes,” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn ignored her. “Not to mention, she’s right next to Mer,” she pointed to the orange cat, “who is my soulmate cat so our cats are destined to be best friends, just like us!”

“Wow, I didn’t- I haven’t said I’m adopting her yet,” Nesta protested.

“Yet,” Gwyn repeated, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

Cresseida laughed. “Well, let me know if you are seriously interested in adopting Miss Obsidian. There’s a few things you would need to keep in mind for her that we should talk about.”

Nesta nodded.

“What about Mer?” Gwyn asked. “Any special care she needs that I should know about?”

“Not really. We did have her on a special diet for a bit because she was slightly malnourished when we found her but she’s at a healthy weight now.”

Nesta walked away as Gwyn and Cresseida continued their animated discussion. How was she going to convince Cassian to adopt a cat? Actually, Nesta knew that wouldn’t be an issue — Cassian would surely jump at any opportunity to make her happy. The real question was how she was going to put aside her pride and admit that she wanted to adopt the cat. She would also have to see if Cassian wanted to adopt the cat, too, and not just for her sake. It would be unfair to both Cassian and the cat to bring her into a home where only one person truly loved her. Not that Cassian wouldn’t be kind to the cat, regardless — it was just that Nesta wanted Cassian to adopt the cat because it made him happy, instead of doing it for Nesta’s sake. 

Nesta was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she walked right into someone. 

“Excuse me,” Nesta apologized. The man turned around.

“You’re excused, Nes,” Cassian replied with a wink. 

“Oh, fuck you,” she groaned, holding back a smile. 

“I know I’m hot, but you’re gonna have to wait til we get home.” 

She replied with a soft punch to his shoulder. Cassian fell to the floor dramatically. 

A bark sounded from the kennel right in front of Cassian. Nesta quickly examined Cassian for any signs of fear, but he wasn’t flinching. Instead, he tugged gently on her arm. 

“Nes,” he said with a grin as she sat down beside him, “Let me introduce you to my new friend, Lina.” 

Nesta turned to find a large golden retriever wagging her tail energetically. She was beautiful and friendly, but she also definitely weighed more than twenty kilograms and had a full set of sharp teeth. In short, she was exactly the type of dog that Cassian would usually be uncomfortable around. 

Yet, here he was, saying, “Look, I know we agreed that we were just looking around and we weren’t going to adopt any pets but look at her! Her cute paws, that gorgeous fur, and those eyes! And she’s so happy to see me! Doesn’t it just make you want to keep her forever?”

His expression said it all: he’d fallen completely in love with this dog. 

“Cassian…” 

His expression dropped. “I know taking care of a pet is a lot of work. If we did adopt her, I would walk her and figure out her food and vet stuff, but she would be living with both of us, so I would never want to adopt her if you weren’t completely on board. And having a pet would affect our lifestyle and our day-to-day lives a lot, so I understand if you’d rather not adopt her.”

“Do you want to adopt her?” Nesta blurted out. 

Cassian looked confused. 

“I mean, she’s obviously a beautiful and friendly dog, but she’s in a kennel right now,” Nesta explained. “If we adopt her, she could jump on you or bite you or scratch you. Won’t you be on edge having a dog in our apartment all the time, even if you’re tired or having a rough day?” 

“All the other dogs I’ve met make me nervous, either when they bark or pant or just by being close to me. They remind me of rough times in my childhood, when I was scared and in danger. But for some reason, Lina is different. I don’t get any of that fear or anxiety around her. In fact, it’s the opposite. She makes me feel relaxed and happy. I think she actually makes me feel safe.” Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Weird, huh?”

Nesta smiled. “I’m glad you found her. I still want you to take her for a walk before we sign anything if we’re going to adopt her.”

“Wait, but- We don’t need to adopt her just because I want to. If you don’t want a pet, you shouldn’t agree just for my sake,” he added hurriedly. Still, Nesta could see the corners of his mouth tilting up. 

“Yes, I want to adopt her! And,” Nesta continued, seeing Cassian opening his mouth to argue, “do you really think that I would ever agree to something I didn’t want to do, just for someone else’s sake?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you’re a big softie,” Cassian teased. 

She laughed. “Well, trust me, I do want to adopt a pet.”

“Of course she wants to!” Gwyn interjected, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “You should have seen her with that cat. It was like she’d found her twin flame! No offense, Cassian.”

“Wait, what cat?” he replied, befuddled. 

Nesta attempted to wave him off. “It’s nothing-”

“It’s not nothing!” Gwyn interrupted animatedly. “It’s her cat soulmate! A little ball of anger and adorable-ness, just like our little Nesta here.”

Nesta sent her friend a flat look. “Thanks a lot for that description.”

Gwyn just shrugged. “What? You know I’m right.” 

“Where can I find this cat?” Cassian asked. 

Gwyn pointed him in the right direction, telling him about all the ways in which the cat represented Nesta while pointedly ignoring Nesta’s calls of “No, it’s fine” and “You don’t need to go look at the cat” and “I don’t have spooky evil vibes!”. 

“Aww, look at her,” Cassian smiled as he crouched in front of the black cat’s kennel. 

The cat hissed in return.  

“You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Good girl!” cooed Cassian. 

The cat abruptly stopped hissing. She stared at him unblinkingly before purring quietly.

Gwyn erupted with laughter. “Wow, she really is just like Nesta, huh? Everything down to the praise ki-”

Her words were cut off as Nesta covered Gwyn’s mouth with her hand. 

“What the fuck, Gwyn! She’s a cat! That’s disgusting,” Nesta hissed in her ear. 

Gwyn licked Nesta’s palm, and used the moment Nesta recoiled as a distraction to pull her hand off. 

“I just tell it how I see it,” Gwyn declared. “And I have never once been disgusting.”

“Oh really?” Nesta replied, bringing the hand Gwyn had licked close to Gwyn’s face. 

Gwyn screeched and ran down to hide behind Cassian.

Cassian remained focused on the cat. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart. What’s your name, baby?”

“She doesn’t have a name yet,” Nesta supplied, before bringing her licked hand around Cassian to reach for Gwyn. The redhead let out another shriek and ran. 

Nesta could see the moment Cassian melted. His posture seemed to go soft as his expression turned even more tender. 

“You don’t have a name yet, huh?” he murmured. “I guess you need a family to give you a name and a home and some love.”

She placed her non-licked hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to ask to know that he was thinking of his own childhood — when he’d needed a home and a family, too. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, “me and your mom are going to give you so much love.”

“Cass, are you sure?” she questioned gently. She ignored how it made her feel to hear him refer to her as ‘mom’. There was too much to unpack there, and she would save it for later, after they’d finished making important decisions. 

“Look at her, Nes,” he replied. “It’s like she was made for us.”

Nesta knew it was more than just about the resemblances between her and the cat that Gwyn had pointed out. It was about how this cat hissed and growled at strangers, putting her guard up, but really was just a sweet kitten who needed some love. Both of them could relate to putting on a tough face to hide how vulnerable and hurt they really were. She knew Cassian was thinking that this cat would be a perfect addition to their lives.

“But what about Lina?” Nesta insisted. 

“You love this cat. Don’t try to deny it, I can tell.”

“That’s not an answer.” 

“I think,” Cassian said carefully, “we both love this cat and we should adopt her.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “And what are we doing about the fact that we both love Lina?” 

This wasn’t just about the animals, and they both knew that. 

It wasn’t that Nesta didn’t think Cassian wanted to adopt the cat — she knew he really, truly did. But she also knew that he wanted to adopt Lina. She wouldn’t let him give up on his wishes and always put her needs above his. While she appreciated the sentiment, she also knew he had a tendency to discount his own desires. She needed him to know that what he wanted mattered just as much.

Cassian let out a big breath like a deflating mattress, the fight going out of him. 

“I love Lina, I do. And I know it’s so special that I feel so safe around her — around a big dog with sharp teeth. But Nes,” his voice took on a different tone, “at the end of the day, she’s a friendly golden retriever. I’m sure a million families with white picket fences are lining up to adopt her. And this cat… I mean, she doesn’t even have a name.” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“I know we could love either of them, and they’d be incredible. But at least with Lina, I know she’ll find someone else to take care of her. I don’t know if this cat will find that, and she’s too…” Cassian paused to search for a word. His nose scrunched in frustration as his vocabulary failed him. “She’s too precious for me to take that chance.” 

He needed his kitten to find a home. He couldn’t risk her never finding a family — not when he had so much love he could give her. 

Nesta contemplated silently. 

“Okay,” she finally said, her eyes piercing through him as though she intended to read his heart. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do, we’ll get this cat.”

Cassian smiled. “Look at us, being real adults. Can you believe we’re going to be parenting this cutie?”

“Parenting,” repeated Nesta with a snort. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like we’re having a baby or something. People are going to think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Gwyn exclaimed, reappearing next to Nesta from wherever she’d run off to. She had clearly only caught the tail end of Nesta’s sentence. 

“Wow, I’m so excited to be an aunt! Do you know the sex yet? Wait, how far along do you need to be to know that? How many months are you, by the way?” Gwyn spoke too rapidly for anyone to get a word in. “I had no idea about this! How have you been hiding the morning sickness? Or does everyone know about this already? Oh, gosh, this is so exciting!” 

Nesta stayed silent, trying to hold in her smile. Cassian just looked bewildered. 

Gwyn gave Nesta a light hug. “Oh, wow, this is crazy! Am I the first one to know? Wait, is it ok if I tell people? You can tell me if it’s still a secret, don’t worry.” 

Cassian blinked. “No, that’s-”

“Oh, perfect!” Gwyn squealed. She reached over to hug Cassian, too. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Emerie! Oh my god, and Az! His reaction is going to be insane!” 

She practically skipped down the hallway, her fingers already tapping away on her phone.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at Nesta. “What just happened?”

Nesta finally let out a laugh. “Just Gwyn being Gwyn, I suppose.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I’m actually curious to see how far this goes.” She leaned forward, pressing her side against him. “Do you think they’ll throw me a surprise baby shower?”

“Rhys is going to be so pissed I’m having a baby before him,” Cassian grinned. “It’ll be hilarious.”

“We could tell them we’re having a daughter,” Nesta added, jerking her head towards the kitten.

Cassian laughed. He stood up and stretched out his body, likely feeling a slight ache because he’d been crouching for several minutes. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This is why I love you, you mastermind.”

His lips brought with them a wave of warmth that spread through her veins.

“Time to go tell Cresseida that we are going to adopt a pet after all,” Nesta chirped. 

Cassian groaned. “How about you go tell her, since you’re the one who was looking at this cat first,” he suggested.

“But you made the final decision,” she countered. 

“Well, no, I,” Cassian wracked his brain to find an excuse, “I think you would, uh, be better at filling out the paperwork.”

“Hmm,” Nesta tapped a finger to her chin and pretended to consider his offer, “How about… you do it?”

They were saved from their squabble when Gwyn reappeared with Cresseida in tow.

“So, can I take Mer home with me today or should I set up my place to be cat-ready first?” Gwyn was saying. 

“Ah, Cresseida! Just the person we were looking for!” Cassian interjected. “Nesta wanted to ask you something.”

Nesta sent him a frigid side eye that would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but only made Cassian grin. 

“We were thinking about adopting her,” Nesta said, pointing at the cat in question, “and were wondering what we need to do to make that happen? Is there just paperwork or something else we need to do?”

Cresseida’s expression changed completely. “I knew you would all walk out of here with pets!” she exclaimed triumphantly. Then she sobered slightly. “I’m so glad you’re interested in this cat, but like I mentioned earlier, there is something you should know.” 

Nesta nodded sharply. The anticipation and anxiety started to creep up on her. Was the cat sick? Or disabled in some way? Perhaps she and Cassian, as first time pet owners, weren’t equipped to give her the care she needed. 

“When we found her, she was only about two months old,” Cresseida explained. “We’re not quite sure what happened to her mother, since she didn’t seem to be with her family. But she had already bonded to another animal. They’re still quite close. Even though they’re generally kept in separate kennels, we usually let them play with each other once or twice a day, or she’ll start to get antsy. If at all possible, it would be best not to separate them. It may be possible for her to get used to living without her bonded friend, especially if she’s in an environment where she’s well-loved and taken care of, but it would be very difficult on both of them. So if you would consider adopting both of them, that would really be for the best.”

“Like, another cat?” Nesta inquired.

“It’s not Mer, is it?” Gwyn asked, looking worried. “If it is, I guess I’m going to have to move in with Nesta and Cassian.” Her face suddenly brightened. “I can be like a live-in nanny!”

“No, it’s not Mer,” Cresseida replied, “and it’s actually not another cat. It’s quite a unique situation. We’re still not sure how these two found each other and came to be bonded, but the other animal is actually a dog.”

“Oh.” Nesta felt her heart sink. She would hate to separate the cat from the one other animal that had been with her since she was a baby, but she also couldn’t adopt a dog. She wouldn’t allow Cassian to feel unsafe in his own home. 

“We could adopt both-” Cassian began, just as she knew he would.

“No,” she cut in. She didn’t care if it made her seem like the villain in Cresseida’s eyes. “I’m sorry, we can’t.”

Her eyes shifted to the kitten once more. The cat truly was adorable. Nesta would miss her tremendously, even though they’d only just met. Still, she couldn’t separate her from the friend who’d become her family. She would have to let her go. It hurt, but she knew it was for the best.

“I don’t think we’ll adopt her after all,” Nesta said. Though she had once prided herself on hiding her true emotions from the world, she could tell that both Gwyn and Cassian instantly read the meaning behind her aloof tone. 

“Yeah, you’re right, that’s probably the right decision,” Gwyn supplied. “Adopting pets and having a baby at the same time would be really hard.”

Cassian kept silent. She knew he was itching to deny it, to demand that she adopt the cat anyway, his feelings be damned. She was glad that he knew her well enough that she would not be swayed, and that his well-being mattered more to her than anything else. 

Cresseida sighed, disappointed. “I understand,” she said, resigned. “Dogs aren’t for everyone, especially if you have a lot on your plate. This dog really is the sweetest, although if you are allergic, a golden retriever wouldn’t be the right breed.”

“Hold on, did you say a golden retriever?” Cassian interjected. “You’re not talking about Lina, are you?”

Cresseida looked surprised. “I am, actually. I assume you’ve already made her acquaintance, then?”

“Wait, you’re saying we can adopt both Lina and this cat? And they wouldn’t fight or hurt each other?” Cassian repeated, as though he couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded too good to be true.

“They do play-fight occasionally, but no, they don’t hurt each other and they get along great. But, I understand that you can’t adopt a dog,” Cresseida answered, slightly confused. 

Cassian turned to Nesta. 

“Did you hear that, Nes? We can adopt them both.” 

He was beaming. 

“They’re so perfect,” he repeated as they brought Lina and the cat home a week later, after they’d made all the necessary preparations. “It’s like we were made to find them.”

She felt like she was floating, swept up by the exuberance in his eyes.

When she watched the kitten curl up in Cassian’s lap while Lina sat beside them, a paw resting against the cat’s back, she couldn’t find a name for the feeling that bubbled up inside her. The only viable contenders — love and contentment — seemed too small to capture it all.

When Cassian later asked her what she wanted to name the cat, she looked at the life they’d built together — the bookshelves lined with hockey history books and romance novels, the kitchen counter where Cassian’s favorite chocolate lay beside her mountainous tea collection, the polaroid pictures of them stuck to the fridge with magnets, and the pets filling their home with affection — and replied, “Ataraxia.”

Peace. 

__________

Present day

“I can’t even bring Ara and Lina around Cresseida anymore,” Cassian grumbled. “She always just talks about how incredible it was that we actually believed we’d leave her shelter without a pet.”

“She’s a menace,” Nesta agreed, though her words lacked any real bite. 

They both adored Cresseida, and were delighted at how happy she made Emerie. It was only that Cresseida shared their friend group’s penchant for teasing their friend mercilessly. 

“Her cooking is amazing though, so she makes up for it,” Nesta continued. “I had no idea vegan food could taste that good until I met her.”

“Speaking of cooking…” Cassian pointed to the last photo. It was labeled ‘cooking breakfast’.

Nesta leaned in closer to inspect the image. “When was this?”

“What? You don’t remember?” Cassian gasped in mock offense.

Then, he took her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”

__________

Three months ago

Cassian awoke to the birds chirping and the smell of pancakes permeating the air. He rolled over in bed, reaching out for Nesta, only to find her side of the bed empty. 

He let out a small sigh. 

It was a Saturday morning, and his favorite thing to do on weekends when they didn’t have anything planned was to spend lazy mornings in bed with her. During the week, both of them were too busy to linger in bed. Snoozing their alarms once was the extent of their indulgence. 

But on weekends, Cassian liked to savor the feeling of Nesta lying beside him. He would lay in silence, taking it all in — the blankets warmed by their body heat, the way Nesta’s hair glowed in the morning light, the gentle pressuring of her body laying against his. Eyes half-open, he would breathe deeply and allow the peaceful contentment to fill his lungs. When Nesta woke up, there would be time for slow kisses, quiet conversations, and tender lovemaking. Their room would fill with soft but unbound laughter and playful quips. Later, they would make their way to the kitchen. One of them (usually Cassian) would cook brunch while the other did the dishes, swept the floor, or started a load of laundry. 

This morning, it seemed that Nesta had broken their usual routine. 

As Cassian rolled out of bed, his eyes caught the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was 10:05 am, far later than he usually woke up on weekends. Cassian was almost always the first to wake, generally around 8 or 9 am, and he’d lay patiently until Nesta gained consciousness around 9:30. 

Clearly, he’d been exhausted last night. It had been a long day of training, and then they’d gone out for dinner with his friends. After coming home, he and Nesta had watched a movie and then spent an hour tussling in their sheets. He’d fallen asleep as soon as he closed his eyes. 

Cassian pulled on a pair of dark jeans and strolled out of the bedroom without bothering to find a shirt. 

He found Nesta at the stove, flipping a pancake. She looked ethereal with her long hair down and shimmering in the light that flowed through the window. 

“Morning, Nes,” he said after taking a moment to appreciate the view. 

Nesta’s long legs were bare. She was dressed only in his striped button-up shirt which ended right below her butt. As she turned towards him, he could see that she hadn’t bothered to do up all the buttons on his shirt. The V dipped deep enough that, had she been wearing a bra, lacy bits would have peeked out, but she’d clearly thrown the shirt on without it. Was she wearing any underwear?

She sent him a small smile in greeting. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t bother to wake me up,” he teased as he pulled one of the hair ties off his wrist and put his probably messy hair into a neat bun. 

“Well, it seems like I tired you out last night and you clearly needed your beauty sleep,” she shot back. 

“Are you trying to imply that I didn’t tire you out?” 

She shot him a smirk. “Well, I was up first, wasn’t I?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, even as he held back a smile. He loved this easy back-and-forth, joking banter. “I’ll have to remedy that tonight,” he declared. 

“Aww, did I bruise your little ego?” 

She moved the pancake to a plate, and poured more batter into the pan. 

“There’s nothing little about me,” he joked before walking up behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her. He was careful to steer clear of her arms, so that they wouldn’t accidentally touch the pan or the stove and get burned. 

He rested his head in the crook of her neck. “I missed you this morning,” he whispered. 

“Couldn’t survive a few minutes without me?” she answered. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile in the warmth of her tone. 

“You know I’d be lost without you,” he answered. His tone was light and humorous, but his words were no less sincere.

She let out a small, fond chuckle. “Good thing I was only making breakfast then.”

He inhaled deeply. The smell of her vanilla and jasmine conditioner mixed with the sandalwood scent that lingered on his shirt. His neck was at a slightly awkward angle, bent down to accommodate Nesta’s forward-leaning posture as she cooked, but Cassian knew he’d be happy standing like this forever. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, until Nesta stilled in his arms. He knew she needed to move in order to put the pancake on a plate and couldn’t do so with Cassian wrapped around her, but she also didn’t want him to let go. 

He waited for a heartbeat, then gave her a slight squeeze before unwinding his arms. Before pulling away completely, he pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.

Then, he walked over to the utensil drawer to start setting the table. 

When he sat down, his eyes flickered to Nesta’s figure, waiting for her to join him. He was itching to serve himself one of the pancakes in the middle of the table and bite into deliciousness. They smelled absolutely incredible. 

However, Nesta walked over with the pan still in her hand. She plopped the pancake from her pan straight onto his plate. Unlike the other pancakes, it wasn’t shaped like a circle.

“It was misshapen, so it reminded me of your face,” she quipped as she sat down after putting her pan in the sink. 

“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his smile. The pancake was shaped like a perfect heart. 

As they dug into their food, Cassian felt the domesticity seep into him. He knew how the rest of the day would likely go. They’d wash up together, and then Cassian would head out for a run with Lina while Nesta curled up on the couch with a book. He’d come home and shower, then make her a cup of tea. Later, they’d change the bedsheets, make a list of the groceries they needed to pick up, and chat, before watching a movie or ordering takeout. They’d end up having sex on the couch or in the shower — anywhere but on their freshly changed sheets — and then fall asleep curled around each other with Cassian’s arm slung over Nesta’s waist. 

Their lives had fallen into a routine. And Cassian loved it. This peaceful life they’d built together could never be boring — not when they always filled it with so much playfulness and their jobs were filled with drama by necessity. The regularity was a blessing, not a curse. When Cassian walked through the doors to this apartment, he felt the tension of the outside world fade away. He felt at home.

He loved the life they had created together, and couldn’t imagine anything better than having mornings like this one for the rest of his life. 

The thought should have shocked him, but it did not. He’d known for a long time that this was coming, but it was only now that it had fully sunk in.

He looked across the table at Nesta and caught her eye.

“What?” she asked with a grin.

He reached over and laced his pinky with hers. 

“Nothing.” He smiled. “I love you.”

She shook her head fondly at his cheesiness, but still replied, “I love you.” 

He wanted to declare his love for her in front of the whole world, and then spend the rest of his life with her. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his life than dedicating it to loving her. 

That day, he started researching rings. 

__________

Present day

“I love you,” said Cassian. His eyes shone brightly. “I love all the moments we’ve spent together and the memories we’ve made.”

He walked around the table where the pictures lay and grasped her hands. 

“I do too.” Nesta, although still confused by their impromptu outpour of emotion, was always eager to remind Cassian of just how much she adored him. “I love you so much.”

Cassian smiled. She could see that a million thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he took a breath to focus himself.

“I love you,” he said once more, as though he couldn’t help himself, just like he had after he’d first said the words. He’d been like a child who’d never been allowed sweets who had just been given a box of chocolates — he marveled at the fact that he had love in his grasp and he gorged himself on it, basking in the delight that he could say the words whenever he wished. 

“Every minute, every second I get to spend with you is precious to me,” he continued. “Whether we’re at a party, a restaurant, a vacation, a match, or doing chores at home, every moment with you turns to gold. You made my life so beautiful and meaningful and happy, Nesta, in a way I never even imagined was possible. Even in the harshest moments, I know I’ll be okay because I get to come home to you every night. You’ve helped me learn how to live, not just survive. Because of you, I can love openly. Because of you, I can be myself without worrying that I’m too much. Because of you, I can let myself feel joy, instead of constantly worrying that it’s going to be ripped away from me. I can only hope that I can make you half as happy as you make me.”

“You make me happier than I ever thought possible,” Nesta answered. She was certain there were tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There were so many things that she could say — how the world had appeared cold and cruel, just like her reflection in the mirror, until she’d seen it all through his eyes. She would never stop being inspired by him — how was it possible for him to be so kind when the world had been so awful to him? How was it that he got wholeheartedly excited when it snowed, despite knowing the stinging pain of a cold night on the streets? His joy was infectious, and now she couldn’t help but admire the beauty in every little thing — children skipping down the sidewalk, the leaves changing color, and the birds chirping in the morning. 

Yet, she couldn’t find the words. How could she express the magnitude of her emotions for him, and just how much he’d changed her life? All she could do was look at him. 

He squeezed her hands gently and she knew he understood.

“You’ve made me a better man.” His voice was slightly raspy as emotion clogged his throat. “My life is so much fuller with you in it. We’ve made so many beautiful memories,” he said, gesturing to the pictures with one hand, “and I want to dedicate the rest of my life to making more. It would be the greatest honor to spend my life by your side. I want to fill that table with a million — a billion — more memories.”

“So, Nesta Archeron,” He released her hands. She blinked in surprise and found him kneeling before her, a small box open in his hands with something sparkling inside. “Will you marry me?”

Her gaze had gotten blurred with tears, but she blinked them away now. 

Cassian cut a stunning figure as he looked up at her, rose petals and candles glowing around him. His outfit flattered his body — the wine-red shirt showed off his muscular arms without being too tight and contrasted his skin tone well, bringing attention to his soft blush and curved lips to highlight his joy. His long hair was as glorious as usual, half of it pulled into a bun. 

Still, it was the look in his eyes that caught her attention. His beautiful hazel eyes, framed by his long, dark lashes, sparkled not only with love and joy, but also with breathtaking certainty. Unlike during that bookstore date so long ago, Cassian was secure in their love. She could see in his eyes that, even if she said no, he would not doubt their relationship for a moment. 

But of course, there was only one answer she would give to this wondrous man. He had come into her life like a fire, warming her and brightening her life in innumerable ways. 

“Yes.”

__________

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[papermatisse]

Into the Woods || Y.HS

† genre: horror, fantasy

† word count: 3.6k

† warnings: death mentions, gaslighting/tricks, abduction, faes

† synopsis: her village had always maintained the peace through fire-and-brimstone fear tactics. though who could've known that old children's fable had some truth to it...

† (a/n): second installment to my spooktober anthology! if you haven't already, do check out biaswreckingfics thrills and chills vent, in particular her fae one which helped me gain inspiration for this one!

† taglist: @scuzmunkie @hipsdofangirl @hydroyaksha

anthology | main masterlist

There had been rumors of the woods bordering the village. Of a great evil which lingered within its brush. Darkness somehow contained in the dense growth of trees that surrounded her people. That ages ago, children would go missing in the night, never to be heard from again. Their ghostly giggles seemed to resonate from the tangle of bark and leaves, luring in unaware or gullible children to their doom.

At least that's what was told to (y/n) and the rest of the children as they grew up. By the time she became a teenager, she had understood the intention of such tales. To deter children from wandering too close to the woods and its inhabitants: wolves, bears, perhaps even a dedicated rabid bunny. All dangers which lurked in their environment, inevitable in their existence, and so the only measure they could take was preventative. Ensure children were within the watchful peripheral of an adult, and therefore safe from nature and its cruelty.

Perhaps that's why she deemed it acceptable to gather the berries by the edge of the woods. It was all just a tall tale to ward off children either way. She was a grown adult now. Fully capable of fending for herself and accepting the consequences of her actions—although she made note to be quick in her foraging.

Pick the berries. Get out. Pick the berries. Get out.

Her mantra cycles listlessly through her head, becoming white noise as she filled her basket with the succulent delicacies she'd later use in her baking. The sun still beamed overhead, indicating the plentiful amount of time she had left of the day to be able to prepare some treats for her siblings.

As if by a grand coincidence, a familiar sound seemed to waltz through the air, greeting her ears with its comforting yet unexpected lilt.

"Nell?" (y/n) called out habitually, whirling around at the sound of her sister's familiar voice. Nothing. No one. The village was a fair distance away, with its usual hustle and bustle a mere muted drone to fill the otherwise still atmosphere. Definitely not close enough for her sister's voice to carry this far.

She waited another moment, eyes scanning the fields as if awaiting for Eleanor to pounce forth and startle her. Yet she was met with silence once more.

Perhaps it was her imagination. Her anxieties from being so near the woods manifesting itself in peculiar forms. Thus, she proceeded with her picking, though in an admittedly rushed manner.

Then, it happened again. Another round of giggles. This time, (y/n) shot to her feet, turning to stare out and await her sister's arrival.

"Nellie," (y/n) attempted to announce, eyes roving over the tall grass. "You know you shouldn't be out here. Mother will be displeased."

Silence.

The first time, she was able to chalk it up to mere paranoia. Though this time, it sounded almost too real to write it off as anything but her mischievous sister mucking about as per usual. However, she's never wandered out this far before in her jests.

Just as (y/n) was about to call her sister's name again, the giggle sounded forth once more. This time, right behind her.

(y/n) spun about, stumbling on her footing as she gasped at the sudden intrusion. Though when she turned, expecting to be greeted with her sister's conniving grin, she was met by none other than the woods, a mere foot away from her.

Memories of that accursed folktale came barreling to the forefront of her mind, twisting her stomach into knots as she stepped away from the trees. Even in the broad daylight, the darkness seemed all encompassing, swallowing anything and everything it seemed to get into its grasp. It was foreboding, an omen that held not even the slightest ounce of allure to (y/n), who continued to retreat from its beckoning.

"(y/n)." The hushed whisper of Eleanor's voice greeted her once more, this time certainly coming from within the woods. Her sister's exact voice. A perfect replica of it.

Again, (y/n) backed away, breath shaky as her shoulders trembled with fear. Any attempt to spot Eleanor peeking behind the trees proved fruitless due to that daunting abyss of black that consumed the woods as a whole.

"Where are you going?" The voice spoke again, a curious lilt in its tone, almost mocking in a way. (y/n) said nothing, steps widening as she kept her eyes trained on the trees.

Another giggle resounded. Gone was its joking undertones, almost entirely alien to the Eleanor she knew.

"You don't want to play?" It was a convoluted ploy, twisting her sister's words until it was a different person entirely. Another deeper voice seemed to intermingle with that of Eleanor's, overlapping in perfect syncrasy with one another.

Another gasp escaped her lips as the gravity of the situation began to truly settle in. The truth of it all dismantling every aspect of her belief system until nothing was left, uprooting her ideology until she questioned everything she once thought true.

Once the giggling began to fade away with distance, (y/n) finally turned around, making a run for the village, not daring to look back for even a moment.

Dinner was as rambunctious as it could be with a family of their caliber. Two young boys laughing and playing with their food, a father who seemed more than willing to partake in their shenanigans, a mother busy nursing the baby in her grasp, and the two eldest daughters off to the side. Eleanor laughed along with the bunch, presumably unbeknownst to her sister's forlorn demeanor since she had gotten back from her berry picking.

Though as they both prepared for bed in their shared room, Eleanor now seemed privy to her sister's silence.

"I didn't see you come back with berries," she began, voice cutting through the quiet of their room. (y/n) curled further into her sheets, attempting to push away the memories of earlier that day. Memories she never wanted to encounter again.

"I changed my mind." Eleanor chuckled at this, the familiar sound sending a shiver down (y/n)'s spine.

"Did the woods scare you off?" It was a joke, a subtle tease to prod at her sister, though at the lack of a response, Eleanor grew more stoic. "(y/n), you can't be serious. We're adults now, you should know fully well there's nothing in those woods. In all my years of living here, I've never once heard a wolf howl of any sort."

"It's not the wolves I fear," (y/n) muttered, burying her face into her pillow. Eleanor was stunned into silence for a moment, but then choked out another bout of laughs.

"Are you telling me you're scared of the fae? The story they'd tell us as kids to make us behave?" (y/n) was reluctant to respond, though this didn't deter Eleanor in the slightest. "(y/n), if it bothers you so much, allow me to go tomorrow and retrieve—"

"No." (y/n) was now sat up, staring at her sister across the room from her. The sternness in her voice shocked Eleanor, her smile slowly fading as she saw the pure, unadulterated fear lying beneath (y/n)'s gaze. "We're not going anywhere near those woods. Never again."

Days seemed to pass by without any other phenomenal hindrance. Though the memory of that day plagued her mind, and that sinister voice seemed to haunt her dreams, (y/n) continued with her life, however weary as she was. Her body was wrought with fear and it was beginning to take its effect. From simple mistakes accumulating into one big mess, it was clear (y/n) was not in her prime. Though there was nothing more she could do, what with this suffocating paranoia all but penetrating her every waking thought.

Her nightmares were as vivid as could be, and seemingly always followed the same sequence. (y/n) walking mindlessly into the brush, pushing aside branches and weaving between the trees which seemingly sprung up in her very path. And she continuously walked forth, as if on a predetermined trail ingrained in her mind. All the while, she could feel it—its stare. It watched her all throughout her journey, never sparing her a moment to herself. Suffocating her with its overbearing presence.

And at the end of her walk, her skin marred with scratches by twigs and rocks along the way, heart beating out of her chest, she'd step into a clearing. A grove of sorts. Dark and eerie, much like the rest of the woods, a canopy of dense branches overhead sparing only a few beams of sunlight into the ground. But in those rays of light, she'd see it approaching.

It took the form of a man, tall with long strides as he came forth. Handsome with deep eyes staring right into her, yet boyish features in a feeble attempt to lower her defenses. But no matter how fortified she made herself to be, it never seemed to do much once he got her.

A hand on her neck, squeezing in such a way that he could feel her pulse beating helplessly beneath his fingers and her breath growing frantic at the sudden obstruction. He contorted his body forward, crowding over her, consuming her space until there was nothing between them. A sickeningly sweet smile spread across his face, eyes manic as he laughed and he laughed and he laughed. A raucous crescendo into a deranged cackle, seizing at her every thought with its maniacal grasp.

And he'd keep her right there in that state, feeling her sanity slip away as she remained detained in his clutches for all the hours of the night. Taunting her, as if holding out her death, her sweet release from this torment, for another time. A time where he can truly have her all to himself.

Her nights were restless, her days vigilant, and at the end of it all, (y/n) was beginning to collapse in on herself. This was quite evident to her sister, the one who spent perhaps the most time with (y/n) in the first place, and as much as she tried to help, there was nothing she could do to derail her from this unending darkness she found herself collapsing into. All she could do was silently support her sister with reassurances and assistance—as much help as she could offer.

Though it was at times like these where the sisters' differences were truly apparent, and as (y/n) prepared dinner for the bunch, the barren absence of her sibling truly became apparent. With the lack of a helper in the cooking, (y/n) began worrying of where Eleanor may have run off to.

The paranoia only seemed to heighten as the table was set and the family was seated, all except the one chair across from (y/n). They were all understandably worried, though attempted to write it off as perhaps Eleanor getting caught up with something else. Perhaps a friend had invited her over and Eleanor forgot to inform the rest of them. Or maybe she was out helping one of her neighbors with a task.

But with the truth of the woods lingering perpetually in the recesses of (y/n)'s mind, she couldn't be sure of anything.

That night, (y/n) didn't sleep. She waited for her sister's arrival, something which never happened that night. And upon daybreak, (y/n) was certain this disappearance was the work of the nefarious evil of the woods. It was a certainty in her head.

However hesitant she was, the grief of having lost her sister consumed any ounce of reason or doubt within her, and with a brief farewell note upon the dining room table, she set out to seek Eleanor.

Along the way, neighbors gave brief but otherwise useless accounts of when they'd last seen her. The farmer's account validated each of (y/n)'s suspicions and fears.

"I'd seen her walk by the other day with a basket, heading out towards the fields. Didn't see her after."

Approaching the woods felt like visiting her recurring nightmares personally, yet no matter how real they seemed, they were nothing as compared to the true scene of it all.

A wall of trees towered over her, and at their feet lay that humble, lonesome berry bush. Beside it was both her basket she had abandoned long ago, somewhat tattered due to the natural elements it had faced over the past few days, as well as her sister's basket, toppled over with her picked berries pooling out and onto the grass.

The thought was bittersweet, guilt already riddling her body at the mere prospect that Eleanor may have gotten swallowed up by the woods whilst attempting to appease (y/n). As if the whole series of events they'd gone through were a result of her alone, yet as she neared the border of the woods, she knew it was not solely her doing.

She could feel her heart begin its tiresome beat, thudding violently against her ribcage. Her breathing was shaky as she stood there, a mere step away from the trees. Her feet seemed cemented to the ground where she stood, unable to back away nor finally break the threshold before her. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn back, to flee from these woods at all costs, but there was that debilitating guilt brewing within her. How could she live with herself if her sister truly did die in there?

Perhaps it was the guilt, or perhaps it was some blinding hubris which made her crave something from these trees—vindication, answers, release. Whatever it may be, the reason held her with an iron grip, and she remained where she stood, waiting; perhaps for some invitation of sorts.

"(y/n)..." the shaky voice of her sister alerted (y/n), a cold dread sinking into her being at the sound of Eleanor's voice—or more so that of a feeble replication of her voice… from right in front of her. As if she were speaking face to face with her sister. "(y/n), you came back for me."

The dense and dark brush obscured any attempts to see what stood before her, though the proximity of it had shivers running down her spine, tears pricking at her waterline at the sheer horror of it all. She remained silent, wary of whatever spectacle was being tried to lure her in. She could only compare the use of her sister's identity as something akin to a puppeteer exploiting its dolls. As if a mere guise for its audience.

It wasn't trying to lure her in anymore. It was taunting her.

Beneath the low whistle of the winds and the rustling on leaves all around, she could hear an unsettling yet rather distinct sound that made her blood grow cold. The deep and unmistakable sound of a man breathing, coinciding with whimpers of Eleanor's voice. Like he was only further proving her point of this whole charade being nothing more than a cruel mockery of her situation.

The noises grew more distant, sinking into the all encompassing embrace of the woods, daring her to enter alongside them. To finally become one with the woods and its victims—victims like her sister.

(y/n) took a tentative step forward, raising a weak arm above her to push aside the curtain of branches which concealed what lay ahead, and as she delved into the woods for the first, and perhaps the last time, she felt her world warp and twist into a demented wonderland of sorts. The trees, which from the beginning towered above her, seemed to only loom taller in their imposing stature. Shadows seemed to deepen into inky black pools of nothing all around her. Rustling leaves took on sinister murmurs, as if carrying along with it the voices of countless victims lost in these woods, as well as beckoning whispers to come further into the forest.

Her steps echoed with a hollow sound, reality seeming to distort with the discordant and ominous melody surrounding her. The further in she ventured, the more overpowering her fears seemed to become until its blinding and all encompassing existence had become the one thing she could fixate on. Her body prickled with nerves, a cool numbness tingling her skin as she willed her feet along, acutely aware of unseen eyes which probed her from the dark depths of the trees.

The air seemed to grow colder and colder, and she wasn't sure whether the trembles taking over her body were from her fear or the sudden temperature drop. Though there wasn't much room for thought, as obscure, yet ever so familiar, glimpses of the fae creature plagued the recesses of her mind, growing stronger and more vivid the further along she got, as if confirming the route she took. His malevolent grin flashed across her mind, shivering at the array of teeth ready to devour her, tormenting her as she progressed along.

Her breathing had slowly become unstable as she walked, the realization truly hitting her when she briefly turned around, only to have no idea where she had come from. What path she had taken mere steps before where she currently resided. As if the woods were swallowing her whole, refusing to ever let her slip by. And unwillingly, she proceeded forward into the never ending labyrinth, her mind somehow knowing exactly what to look out for.

It came sooner rather than later. The sudden clearing in the midst of it all. A small, unassuming grove of sorts, bordered by the impenetrable wall of trees that shrouded its existence from the rest of the world. There was an oppressive, deafening silence—a troubling realization for a forest of all things. Yet it didn't last long, as a low and distinct humming pierced through the stillness of the atmosphere, prompting her body to freeze up on the spot. It was melodic, dripping with a cruel and feigned saccharine that seemed to creep all about her.

Soon enough, he emerged. Tall as her dreams had portrayed him, with ethereal features unlike any she's seen before. His eyes were dark with an unmistakable edge that had haunted her dreams for many nights. His lips tugged into a smile as he stepped out of the shadows, and the full sight of him had (y/n) gasping. Tears welled up in her eyes at the image presented of the fae that had been targeting her. Watching her and tormenting her, driving her completely and utterly insane.

His dark eyes gleamed with a mischievous, unholy light, fixating upon her with an unsettling mixture of what seemed to be pure amusement and… hunger.

"(y/n)," he spoke, his smooth and deep timbre fitting perfectly with the rest of his personage, calling to her with his deceivingly sweet voice. "You've finally come to me."

His strides were wide as they carried him directly to her, and she was left to gawk up at him with whatever remaining bravado she may have had in her. His hands trembled as they carefully took in her loose hair, squeezing the strands between his fingers.

"I've been waiting… for so long." He leant down into her shoulder in an abrupt and aggressive manner. The sharp inhale he took had (y/n) jumping in her spot, tears freely falling down her face as he finally stepped back to stare at her, and she finally got to see him upfront for the first time. Making direct eye contact with the abomination of the woods.

His laughter burst forth in a raucous and chaotic way that had her wincing away as much as she could. Though the sounds soon dissipated as he opted on brushing her head with his large hand.

"Oh, your sister… Such a pity." He smiled again, eyes darting about to every square inch of her face, almost admiring her as one would an artwork.

"My… sister?" (y/n)'s voice was broken and mangled, barely above a whisper, though loud enough in the still quiet of the woods. He grinned at her words, a fond and appreciative smile that had her pulse quickening at the mere sight of it.

"Her fate was sealed the moment she ventured into my woods."

(y/n) felt her heart shatter at the news, throat constricting upon itself as she shut her eyes and openly wept. Her body seized in on itself, near the point of collapse had it not been for the fae who forcibly kept her standing upright against him.

"A useless thing, but her sacrifice was necessary for our meeting." Again, his voice was filled with such gentle kindness that it made her utterly sick to her stomach. The grief of losing her sister seemed the primary emotion wrecking her from within, to the point that the reality of her situation had yet to truly sink in, even as the fae continued to ravel himself around her until there was no way of escaping his grasp. "Don't worry, my precious, I won't hurt you like I did her."

He brushed away the tears staining her cheeks, ignoring the new streaks that replaced them either way, merely smiling down at (y/n) without a single care in the world.

"What are you going to do to me?" She asked, voice wavering with every syllable as her body shook with tremors. And the fae just continued with his merry demeanor, unperturbed by her clear dismay and debilitating terror.

"There are fates much worse than that of death. You've stepped into my domain. And now… you're mine forever."

[hegoeshardasfuck]

its no dilemma, come dear, you gotta

wordcount: 1.5K

tags: predator/prey, kinktober, rabbit hybrid itachi, fox hybrid shisui, heat cycles, ambiguous relationships

synopsis: he's just a dumb slut bunny, it's in his bones, he'll stop denying it

authors note: shisuiita just, hits different, ya know? written for day eighteen of kinktober

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59855041

Itachi should've known that a dumb slut bunny could never be a shinobi. He knew that it was only chance that he'd be a rabbit. That heritage had nothing to do with the traits he'd earn by existing.

He did not want to be what he was though.

And he trained so fucking hard to prove he was more then a dumb slut bunny who'd have better days working at a club and being fucked hard. He'd refused to degrade himself so far, that he'd never wear that dumb leotard even if his stupid biology decided that a plump chest and thighs would fit him better. He knew that would happen though.

It's what happens to people like him, to rabbit hybrids. Their bodies expect them to be used, so their bodies force them to prepare to be fucked and bred and used again in a few months after the children are born. They're made to act as stabilizers to the population he'd theorized, nobody really paid much mind to it or it's implications. All the strong people don't have to worry about that.

They're all tigers and bears and hawks and snakes, they have no predators above them. They climbed the chain and killed along the way.

And Itachi Uchiha, twenty something years old and fed up with his clan deterring him from being a shinobi, leaves.

He planned to leave forever but somewhere along the line of walking out the village the similar surges of heat wracked his body. He didn't know why, but his stupid mating cycle never did have any rhyme or reason to it. He's oozing pheromones that any species could pick up.

He kind of hopes someone from Konoha will hunt him down and fuck him, but those are instinctual desires alone. No truly rational aspect of his brain could ever want that.

Not even as it's happening.

Strong arms pin him down and he tumbles with a high pitched sound.

Teeth sink into the back of his throat but only enough to leave him somewhat startled with a faux paralytic. The same sensation courses through him as a limb that's fallen asleep.

But instead of being fucked this captor of his instead steps back and hauls him up.

Shisui.

Deep black ears of a foxes descent sprout from his head and a black tail with a white tuft from his spine. He cocks his head to the side, "C'mon, you're running off?"

Itachi stayed quiet, tall ears drooping in spite of that. He took a deep breath before speaking, "Yes, I was."

"If you keep doing this they're gonna order you to mate yourself to someone, they're gonna force you to be dependent to this village," Shisui said.

The thought made Itachi feel ill, "Don't joke about that."

"I wish I was joking," Shisui said with a submissive laugh.

Then he pauses.

He comes to a screeching halt.

He sniffs the air, the scent of pheromones had finally hit him.

A sly foxy grin surfaces on Shisui's face, "You're in heat?"

"I wasn't supposed to be." Itachi almost huffed the words.

Shisui let's himself lower, hands on either side of Itachi's waist. He's still grinning, tail swaying from side to side. He speaks quietly, "You want a hand dealing with it?"

Itachi almost gives an overblown offended response, but he bites it back. He merely dislikes the way the notions cause slick to pool in his boxers. He know that fucking will make it go away faster, and he also knows Shisui's been eyeing him up.

Anybody would be eyeing up a dumb slut bunny, they're easy pickings. Even Lady Tsunade found herself a dumb slut bunny, all the best had mated with one. It was a quick and easy way to ensure your clan wouldn't suffer from low birthrate. It was also a quick and easy way to ensure even the most unruly libido's could be tamed because they were so damn easy.

Itachi just smirked, "Depends, are you gonna make me swallow enough morning after pills to make me feel nauseated to keep from a mishap, or are you going all in?"

Shisui shrugged, "We'll see where the night takes us." His hands reach to grip Itachi's thighs as he speaks. He wants. And he knows his friend will say yes because his friend always says yes because his friends' species is a whore, the most reproductive in the world.

"Then fuck me," Itachi said, there was a sharpness of a demand on his voice.

Shisui couldn't help the excitement that coursed through him at the words. He spoke with a shaky pang of want in his tone, "Don't worry, I'll fuck you real good."

-/-/-/-

Maybe he's a bit more of a dumb slut bunny then he'd ever like to admit too with the way he lets Shisui fuck him.

They don't even get off the ground, clothes easily discarded and body manhandled. Hands grip his thighs, thick with fat that refuses to shed and hips broadened as he grew into a shameful existence, and his chest that's just as ripe. If Shisui wanted to eat him alive he could, and Itachi knows he'd be a gourmet meal for days on end.

All of his muscle was marbled with fat that was unbecoming of someone like him. His flesh was never firm considering how hard he worked to make it that way, for his body to tone with muscles. Instead all of that was hidden under a thin and plush veneer of fat. Soft flesh that Shisui grips so tightly, fingers indenting the flesh with ease.

Fangs rip into his shoulder as he's fucked, they're the same height but Shisui easily towered over him like this. His shoulders were broader and his hips weren't and his muscles were sleekly defined- he was a fox through and through. The furred twitchy ears and fluffed up tail only made it even more painfully clear.

And Itachi?

Itachi was a rabbit through and through.

Always with a gnawing ache to be fucked and with a body that could sustain it. Lop ears blending into his hair and puffy tail hidden under his clothing because he couldn't accept it. The fact that he's just a whore, genetically and behaviorally as well.

Having Shisui fuck him until his stomach is coated in his own cum and dripping makes it a little bit better.

He moans his throat raw as he digs into the moss and dirt for any form of support so he isn't entirely prone. It isn't very long before that falls flat alongside him, ass up in the air and Shisui growling as he claws down into the dirt next to his head. God, he's so close. The proximity is closed, bareback and just wanting so fucking bad.

He's panting when Shisui retracts himself, he rakes claws across Itachi's sides as he goes. Itachi shudders the entirety of the contact.

He can feel cum ooze down his thighs and that he's gaping.

He still wants more though.

Sure, he may be lesser, he may be prey, he may be inadequate- but that's merely genetic.

He knows that he can get more out of Shisui if he tries just a little bit. Any dumb slut bunny could get a cum donation from an entire village in a days time if they tried hard enough. Getting Shisui to knot him and fuck him once more won't be hard at all.

Shisui is panting heavily, tail sweeping back and forth as he stares at his friend. His body is kind of achy. His legs shake just a bit even though he's sitting down.

He swallowed thickly before speaking, "Feeling any better?"

Itachi didn't answer right away. He swayed his hips side to side, he was looking over his shoulder as he did so.

Shisui's gaze followed the motion.

"I don't know." Itachi added extra whine to his voice as he spoke. "Am I?"

Shisui groaned, "Can you wait?"

Itachi stood up just for long enough to saunter over to Shisui. Not much closer. And as fast as he's up to turn he's back down on all fours.

One arm and then the next and he has Shisui's legs between him. He looks up and there's nothing but lust in his eyes, his hair was mussed enough that lop ears stand out in it. He gives doe eyes at Shisui before speaking, "For how long?"

Sharp pangs of arousal shoot through Shisui as Itachi ruffles his tail. It's not much really, but he's pretty damn sure there's scent glands in that puff of black fur because fuck, Itachi smells amazing when he's like this. He's always like this though, sometimes it just gets a million times stronger.

And when those times come Shisui is at his beck and call as is Izumi.

Because he's their dumb slut bunny.

A tigress and a reynard sharing.

It's unthinkable really.

But with the way Itachi looks up at Shisui, his eyes glossy with tears of pleasure and lips wet with drool, he can't help but think it'd be unfair to keep it all to himself.

"Well, one more round wouldn't hurt before we can get home to Izumi." There's some form of laughter on Shisui's voice, closer to bashful than anything else. He still raises a hand to run across the expanse of Itachi's throat and shoulder. It'd be so easy to claim him right now, but he'll refrain.

Itachi grinned as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Shisui's lips, "Good."

[sometimes-she-becomes-it]

(For the unwanted attention post) "I just couldn't stand the thought of them touching me anymore. I had to get out of there."

Something like Caliborn being irritated that Calliope didn't do a thing he told her? People got in the way so she couldn't complete it and has to "answer for it"? Or something else, idk. Whatever you think works best.

She got 15 minutes of hiding before Caliborn found her.

She saw his shadow approach, his footsteps come closer and closer, and whimpered in terror. There was no point in hiding. Not when she was sure he already knew where she was.

She slowly stood up, using the wall behind her as support. Her feet hurt from the heels she was forced to wear by him. Her dress, far too revealing for her tastes, weighted her down with its dense fabric.

She'd had a suit picked out and ready for the occassion. She'd been ecstatic when she bought it.

She'd been less ecstatic when she found it tattered and in pieces, fabric strewn all across the room.

'dont worry' her brother had said. Scissors still in his hands 'I have something you can wear.'

The dress he'd given her fit her perfectly in all the right places. She didn't want to think of how, exactly, he knew her bust or hip size. She didn't want to think about whether it was related to the tea he'd given her just a few weeks ago.

She didn't want to think about a lot of things.

She got back on her feet just as Caliborn saw her.

"You" he hissed. "Fucking bitch. What did I tell you. Right before we came here."

She kept silent.

He grabbed her arm and started squeezing. "What. Did I tell you."

"You said.... You said to act normal. To not bring attention to me or make a scene."

"So how do you think I felt. When I got told my sister had ran away from a crowd. And in doing so. Made herself the gossip of the party?"

Had she really made such an impression? She couldn't remember if she had ran away like he said or simply tried to excuse herself before fleeing from the too-dense crowd. All she could remember was feeling pressed in on all sides, as if she couldn't breathe. Too many voices, too many lights. She couldn't bear it any longer.

"I- I'm sorry...."

"SORRY DOESN'T FIX ANYTHING YOU FUCKING BITCH." He screamed. Calliope wondered if anyone had heard him. "You better have a good explanation for this. Or I'm going to make the last three weeks seem like heaven. Compared to the hell I'm going to put you through."

Her back still hurt from when he'd grabbed a blowtorch and used it to write his name on her back. That had hurt so much, she thought she was going to drop dead from sheer pain. The idea of anything worse than that seemed impossible but.... She didn't want to test him.

"I'm sorry" she repeated "I just. There were too many lights. So many people and sounds and voices. And all of them calling my name and grabbing and touching and I- I just couldn't stand the thought of any of them touching me anymore. I had to get out of there."

His face seemed to soften at that. "Oh. So you were too overwhelmed?"

She nodded "Yes, that's exactly it."

"Too many people. Too many sounds..." He continued

"Y-yes..."

"You just need a break from all of it."

".........Yes."

She wasn't relieved anymore. She felt like she had stepped into a trap.

"My poor pathetic little sister. This is why you need me. You can't do anything without me. Can you? Poor pet." She whined at the nickname.

He dusted himself off "We're going to go back home. You're going to send all your friends a video telling them you were feeling ill. That they shouldn't expect to talk to you for.... Three weeks. Sounds like enough." He grinned. "Once the video has been sent. You are going to step into your white room. Somewhere nice. Quiet. Where you won't have to talk to anyone. Not even me."

Her gut sank. The White Room... That place still featured in her nightmares. Las time she'd only been there for a day. A full three weeks? Her sanity wouldn't survive that. And yet she knew her brother wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Well? Aren't you going to thank me?" He grabbed a fistful of her hair. She winced. "Maybe you're more unwell than I thought. Perhaps I should make it. Four weeks instead."

"NO!" She screamed, then covered her mouth "I- I mean, Um, sorry for being so inconsiderate, Sir. I'm truly grateful for your kindness. I don't deserve it, really."

"you don't." He agrees "you don't deserve an ounce of the kindness I give you. You're worthless, worse than the scum of the earth" each word is like a stab directly to her heart, despite the fact she should already be used to it "Aren't you so lucky to have me?"

"Yes brother" she says emptily "I'm very very fortunate."

"Good girl." oh those words shouldn't warm her heart so much. He puts a hand on her cheek and kisses her. She lets him. He grabs her by the waist and slowly they walk back to his car. Back home. He's sweet all the way, kissing and complimenting and touching her. She drinks it all up with a smile and a blush. It's the last time in three weeks she'll be able to receive it.