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whatacaitastrophe · 3 months

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Is It Over Now - Chapter 11

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "I Wanna Be Yours" - Artic Monkeys

Chapter Warnings: Oral Sex, MxF sex, blood drinking, brief mention of past suicide attempt

Spotify Playlist: Here

Chapter Notes: if you have read this fic, liked it, reblogged it, or left comments THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. keep the comments coming bc i love hearing your feedback (and like tinkerbell, i need applause to live). also, if you feel so called to support me in other ways, here is a link to all my other socials, including my twitch channel, "all my homies hate mystra" merch i created (lol), and a donation link <3

also!! i have a discord server!! it was made to coincide with the twitch channel, but i need more friends to talk about bg3 with so pls come hang. link is above!

Chapter 11: Breathing in Your Dust

Fallon is furious. With Gale, yes, but even more so with herself.

First, she’s angry that she let Gale have even one dance with her at the ball, on what was supposed to be her night with Astarion. She should have asked him to explain right there in the library, to the both of them and then sent him on his way. Second, now that she knows where Gale has been, what he’s been doing ( who he’s been doing), she’s angry with herself for wasting two years of her life on that man. One year loving him so unconditionally, only for it to be thrown back in her face: and one year mourning their relationship and what could have been. She almost killed herself because of someone she meant so little to in the end.

More than any of that, she’s angry with herself for not hearing Astarion out. If she’d just given him a chance to explain, Fallon’s conversation with Gale would have been far shorter and then she and Astarion could have gone back to their evening. He withheld the entire truth from her, but the vampire’s intentions were good. She should have listened. Lastly, she’s angry with herself for kicking Astarion out of the suite. His comment stung, but Fallon knows her choice to speak to Gale alone (or even give him a chance at all) hurt Astarion just as much as his insinuation that she is a whore.

But even when Astarion was protecting his own heart by flinging precise insults in her direction, he’d told Fallon he would come back. He’d been willing to give her a night to cool off, and instead of walking away, she kicked him out.

Now she could only pray to gods she didn’t believe in that when she finds Astarion (if she finds him), he’ll let her apologize.

Fallon is a blur of chiffon as she flies down the stairs of The Elfsong living quarters towards the tavern. Maybe Devlon has seen Astarion, and maybe Astarion deigned to tell the barkeep where to find him, should anyone ask. Maybe—

Maybe Astarion is sitting at the bar with a sullen look on his face, nursing a goblet of wine with a half empty bottle to his left. Fallon stops in her tracks and stares for a moment in shock. Astarion came back. Even after the horrible things she said, the horrible things he said… he’s here.

He’s here, and Fallon is now more certain than ever that she does not deserve this man.

The sound of her heartbeat, or the scent of her must have revealed her presence to Astarion, because after a moment his body goes rigid as he stares into his goblet. When he looks up, his eyes immediately go to Fallon, she sees something there that Fallon isn’t sure she’s ever seen before.

Hope.

They may not have a mind connection through the tadpoles to speak to one another anymore but this time, without Gale there to cloud Astarion’s perception of the situation, it doesn’t matter. When Fallon stares back at him with an apologetic expression and a slight nod of her head, Astarion understands:

Fallon only needed to speak to Gale so she could send the wizard on his way.

Astarion shoots to his feet so quickly he almost knocks his barstool over, and in less than five paces, he’s standing in front of Fallon. Fallon opens her mouth to apologize to him verbally, but before she can say anything, Astarion’s mouth is pressed against her own in a deeply passionate kiss. Fallon throws her arms around his neck and kisses him back, trying to convey how sorry she is in the way she moves her mouth against his.

Somewhere in the tavern, somebody whistles, but Fallon barely hears it. The world dissolves around her and the only person she’s even remotely aware of is Astarion, and the way he grabs the backs of her thighs, bunching the skirts of her gown to pick her up and carry her out of the dining room. Fallon breathlessly pulls her lips away from his and looks at the man she’d fallen in love with as easily as breathing. “Astarion, I’m so sorry. I was horrible and cruel and you didn’t deserve any of it—“

Astarion stops walking halfway up the stairs and smirks at her. “Fallon, as much as I adore hearing you admit you were wrong, I’m a little busy at the moment making sure I don’t drop you.” He presses his mouth to hers again and continues climbing the stairs to the second floor.

“You can put me down, you know.” she mutters against his lips and he laughs softly.

“Now why would I do a thing like that when carrying you all the way back to our room is purely for the sake of letting everyone in this whole bloody place know that you are mine .” Fallon groans into his mouth as he kisses her again and they keep moving. Fallon has no idea how he’s even able to concentrate enough to get them back to the suit safely, never mind that he’s also doing it with his eyes mostly closed. Regardless of the how, it’s incredibly hot, and Fallon can already feel the heat pooling at the apex of her thighs when Astarion claims her as his, so she’s not really in a position to ask questions.

Once outside their suite, Astarion presses Fallon’s back against the wall and holds her there. He releases her mouth from his and turns his attention to her neck. “Whilst we’re muttering apologies,” he presses a singular kiss on her neck. “I’m sorry for what I insinuated about you and the wizard earlier. You didn’t deserve that, either.”

“I’m more than certain you will find a way to make it up to me.” Fallon hums. A soft moan leaves her mouth when she feels Astarion’s teeth scraping against her skin.

“Likewise, darling.” he nips at her neck teasingly and returns his attention to her mouth. Astarion opens the door with one hand easily once they start moving again, and he kicks the door shut with his foot once they’re inside. That’s as far into the room as the two of them make it before Fallon feels her back against the wall again.

Now that they are out of the public eye, all politeness (if one could even call kissing her passionately and carrying her through The Elfsong Tavern back to their bedroom “polite”) is thrown to the wind.

“I have been thinking about all the places in this suite I want to have you,” he groans into her mouth and biting down on her lip and tugs, then soothes the spot with his tongue. “To taste you. To make you mine ,” he growls the last word. “For days. ”

Fallon whimpers and shifts in his hold as she tries to press their bodies even closer together. “Just days?” she manages to tease. Astarion bites down on her bottom lip a little harder.

“Weeks, really, but especially after our little tete-a-tete on the couch a few nights ago,” Astarion gently releases Fallon from his grip, not letting go until her feet are steady on the floor. Once they are, he pushes her roughly back against the wall and pins her there with his arms on either side of her.

He leans down and presses a kiss just beneath her ear. “I’ve been thinking about the way you moaned my name and I wasn’t even trying that hard. It got me thinking… what kind of sounds will you make for me, how loudly will you scream my name, when I actually put in effort?”

His words send a shiver down Fallon’s spine and her knees wobble. Astarion grabs her hips to keep her steady and laughs against her skin, pressing another kiss beneath her ear. “Easy, darling, there will be plenty of opportunity for you to get on your knees for me this evening.”

Fallon would have moaned if she could remember how to speak, or even how to breathe. It’s been a long time since dirty talk did it for her this well . When the time comes and Astarion finally gives any other erogenous zone of her body attention, making her come is hardly going to be a difficult task, for she’s already halfway there on his words alone.

Her body has transitioned from wanting Astarion to needing him, and Fallon whimpers again. “Astarion, please.”

Astarion pulls away just enough to look at her, and he releases one of her hips, raising his hand and tucking his fingers under her chin, forcing Fallon to look at him. “Please what, darling?” he smirks, eyes hazy with lust for her.

“Touch me, bite me, fuck me, I don’t care but for the love of the gods please do something .” The tone she’d been aiming for was demanding but instead it comes out desperate, and Astarion grins.

“That’s my good girl.” He praises, kissing her deeply once more. Astarion’s hands are quick, and Fallon’s mind is so focused on the fact that he’s cupping her breasts and his fingers are toying with the edges of the fabric at her cleavage that she barely has a chance to realize what is happening before the sound of fabric ripping fills the room and air is hitting her bare skin. This man ripped open her gorgeous gown, that he paid for no less, without a second thought.

“The dress…” she mutters as they kiss.

“I’ll buy you another one.” Astarion declares, not at all bothered by the destruction he just caused. He pushes the fabric off of her shoulders and the shredded gown falls to the floor at their feet. Fallon is almost completely naked before him, with only a thin piece of lingerie covering her bottom half, and he steps back to look at her. “Gods, you’re beautiful.” he admires her breathlessly. It’s the first time Fallon has really had the chance to look at him, and she's incredibly pleased at the sight of Astarion’s stiff cock straining against his trousers.

Slowly, painfully so, Astarion takes a step towards her and sinks onto his knees before her. Fallon’s heart rate increases with anticipation, eyes unable to look away from Astarion’s as he slowly runs his hands over her legs. He taps the inside of her left knee, willing her to spread her legs for him, and he moves closer to her. Fallon does as she’s told, and and shudders as his hands continue their journey across her skin.

“If you could not rip those, I’m quite fond of them.” Fallon requests teasingly when Astarion’s hands reach her skimpy lingerie. Astarion kisses the inside of their thigh, and looks back to her mischievously. “I’ll buy you another pair.” he declares and the sound of tearing fabric once again fills the room, and the pile on the floor at her feet grows.

Fallon opens her mouth to say something to him, but her words are overpowered by the breathy gasp that spills out of her the moment Astarion’s thumb passes over her swollen clit. Her hips lift away from the wall as she chases the feeling, and Astarion has the audacity to laugh. “Patience, darling.”

“You laugh now, but we’ll see how you like it when you’re desperate for me to touch you.” Fallon quips.

Astarion kisses her inner thigh and spreads her legs further apart. “Is that a threat, darling, or a promise?”

“Yes.”

His laugh vibrates against her thigh as his mouth inches its way up her body. Once Astarion’s face is directly in front of her sex, his tongue lazily flicks across her clit, teasing her again and Fallon whines.

“Astarion, please .” She begs through gritted teeth.

Astarion looks up at her through his eyelashes, the grin on his face is near feral. “Good girl, Fallon.” He grabs her leg, throwing it over his shoulder, and he braces her hips against the wall. Fallon cries out loudly when she finally feels his practiced tongue against her clit, licking her with such precision that only someone with over two hundred years of cunniligus experience could achieve.

His fingers replace his tongue on her clit and his tongue moves inside of her and Fallon and her hips arch away from the wall again, desperate to feel Astarion deeper inside of her. She wants more, more, more, and it doesn’t even occur to her that she’s begging him for more audibly until she feels his amused laughter vibrating through her body. She’s desperate for him, for his touch, and Astarion delivers, lavishing her sex with attention until her legs start to shake. Fallon aimlessly grasps at the wall, trying to find something to hold on to, and she ends up just clawing at the wallpaper instead.

“Astarion, I— I need— I’m going to— please .” She tries to find the words to tell him how close she is, but the way he’s devouring her is so delicious that her IQ is rapidly dropping. The vampire doesn’t need to be told twice, and his tongue returns to her clit, lapping at it hungrily and he slides two fingers inside of her. The man between her legs has barely pumped his fingers in and out of her three times before the simmering volcano that is Fallon erupts, and she comes loudly, moaning her lover’s name. She’s dizzy from it, and quite honestly it’s a miracle Fallon didn’t collapse on the floor from the way her body shook.

When Astarion finally releases his hold on her, he sits back on his knees and looks up at Fallon proudly. His face shines with her slick, and he even has the audacity to lick his lips like Fallon is the best meal he’s ever had. It’s a gesture that has Fallon ready for him again in seconds.

“You,” she pants. “Have far too many clothes on.” Fallon holds out her hand to Astarion, an offer to help him up, yes, but she also needs him near her again. She needs her body against his. She needs his skin against her skin. As soon as he’s on his feet, Fallon is tugging at the doublet he’s wearing, clumsily unfastening the buttons in her haste to remove the offending clothing from Astarion’s body. His mouth finds hers again and they work together to rid him of his clothes, and Fallon smirks against his lips when she hears him sigh with relief as his cock springs free of its confines.

Immediately, Fallon wants to touch him— to feel the heavy weight of his cock in her hand, to make him writhe with pleasure in the way he’d done to her. She wants to taste his cock on her tongue as much as she needs to breathe.

Astarion, it seems, has other plans. Fallon squeaks when she is hoisted into the air once more, wrapping her legs around Astarion’s middle and holding on tightly. She can feel his hard length just beneath her backside now and wonders how easy it would be to just…shift her body so she sank down on his cock naturally.

When they stop again, it's in their bedroom. He stops right at the foot of the bed, and sets Fallon down once more. She reaches for his cock again, desperate to play, and Astarion tuts at her. “Not yet, darling. You’re going to come for me again first,” he instructs assertively. “Turn around.” Another jolt of electricity goes directly to her core as she does what she’s told and leans forward, bracing herself against the bed. Astarion fully invades her space once more, and she can feel the broad head of his cock teasing her entrance, and Fallon shudders with anticipation. “Astarion, please. Stop toying with me and fuck me. ”

That’s all her lover needs to hear, and he doesn’t wait a moment longer before pressing himself inside of her. They moan in tandem as Astarion pushes himself inside of her. The way he fills her is like Astarion is the missing piece that goes in the very center of the puzzle that is Fallon, and she’s finally found it after thinking the piece was gone and giving up on the puzzle all together. Astarion grabs her hips to steady the both of them before he finally begins moving inside of her. Astarion is clearly also beyond the point of teasing, for once he begins moving it’s hard, quick, and for several minutes, the only sounds in the room are from their mutual pleasure.

“You are…so fucking perfect.” He praises her, releasing one of her hips to reach forward and take a hold of her hair, using it as leverage to pull Fallon’s torso towards him. Her back is almost flush against his chest and the new angle Astarion is hitting inside of her makes sends a delicious shiver through Fallon’s body. He’s already dangerously close to pulling another orgasm from her, and she feels his teeth against the spot on her neck where it meets her shoulder, scraping her skin slightly, silently asking for permission. She nods her head furiously and whimpers, “Do it.” There’s no use in denying anymore that Astarion’s bite turns her on, not when she used to deny it to hide the fact that she was attracted to him at all. After all, he’s already buried deep inside her so that ship had said anyway.

Astarion groans appreciatively, and within seconds of the sharp pain hitting Fallon as Astarion’s teeth break her skin, she shatters a second time. He fucks her through it, and the rhythm of his hips gradually slows and his hands move to cup her breasts, kneading them and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers while he enjoys her neck. To her surprise, Fallon does not have to tell Astarion when she’s ready for him to pull away, for he does so on his own, removing his cock from inside of her in the process. She turns around to look at her lover and she tilts her head curiously.

“As delicious as you are, darling, I’m not done ruining you sexually yet. You being conscious whilst that occurs is extremely important.” He leans in to lick away the slow trickle of blood dripping down her neck, and Fallon smirks.

“Good, because I’m not done ruining you sexually yet, either.” Fallon kisses him and slips her hand between their bodies and wraps her warm hand around his wet cock, stroking him slowly. Astarion’s hips stutter at her touch. “It’s not a competition, darling.” Astarion hums against her lips and Fallon shakes her head.

“It is now,” She replies playfully, quickly kissing him one more time. Fallon lets go of his cock and steps away from Astarion. “Get on the bed. Please.”

Astarion’s eyes flicker with lust and he smirks as he realizes she’s not actually taking control of the situation at all. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He croons and does as she requested.

Fallon wants Astarion to be in control, to make her wait or tell her no if she doesn’t ask for permission first. She wants him to tease her and tell her what to do and make her beg for it and praise her for doing as he says– because Fallon needs that as much as she wants to make sure Astarion always feels in control of his autonomy. If the day ever comes and he asks her to take control Fallon will happily oblige, but if that day never arrives she’ll also be perfectly satisfied.

Fallon waits until Astarion is fully settled on the mattress and she takes a moment to truly look at him. His body is an absolute crime, every inch and angle more beautiful than the last and it’s entirely unfair. It’s also the first time Fallon gets a good look at Astarion’s cock. Fallon could have guessed, having already felt it in her hand and inside of her, but it’s as beautiful and perfect as the rest of him, and she wouldn’t be embarrassed to admit that her mouth waters when she sees it.

Her eyes travel back up his body and the way he’s looking at her, with his arms folded and his hands resting under his head…it’s the hottest thing Fallon has ever seen. “Come here, darling.” Astarion beckons, and Fallon forces herself to take her time. To make a show of it. She crawls up the bed and settles herself on her knees at his waist. She leans forwards to press a sensual kiss to his lips and Astarion’s arms move out from under his head and he grabs her by the waist to pull Fallon into his lap. She lets him, but when the man beneath her tries to position her entrance above his cock, she shakes her head. “Not yet. I want to taste you first,” She tugs on his bottom lip with hers. “Can I do that for you? Please?”

Astarion pauses and pulls back far enough to look at Fallon. There’s a surprised look on his face. “I– I can’t remember the last time someone did that for me,” Astarion stares at Fallon in stunned silence a moment longer, then kisses her deeply once and looks at her again. “I know this will sound very cliche considering you just asked to suck my cock but…I just need you to know how desperately and utterly in love with you I am.”

A wide smile blooms on Fallon’s face at the words. Hearing Astarion tell her that he loves her…it’s better and sweeter coming from his mouth than it’s ever been from anybody else, and her heart might burst. “Good, because I am desperately and utterly in love with you, too,” she confirms and kisses him again. “Now let me show you.”

She kisses her way down his body from his neck to his hips, slowly, hoping that it properly conveys just how much she adores this man. When she comes face to face with his leaking cock, Fallon wraps a hand around the base and gives his shaft a tentative swipe with her tongue. Astarion twitches in her hand in response, and Fallon’s tongue runs over him again from base to tip, wrapping her mouth around him upon reaching his head. She can taste the now dry remnants of herself on his cock and a thrill goes through her body as she thinks about the way he was deep inside of her just minutes ago, and how he soon will be again. Fallon has no intention of letting Astarion climax in her mouth; not because it doesn’t appeal to her (it absolutely does), but because she wants, no, needs to feel him inside of her again before the night is over.

Astarion stifles a moan as she moves her mouth along his cock and his hand finds its way into her hair again. His grip is deliciously tight, and when she feels him begin to tentatively begin controlling the movements of her head himself, Fallon moans with approval, fully returning control to him as he fucks her mouth. He’s hesitant at first, whether it’s because he’s afraid hurting her, he’s afraid of coming too soon, or something else entirely, Fallon doesn’t know, but once Astarion finds his confidence, he fucks her mouth in the same way he’d fucked her from behind: rough, hard, and Fallon is more than prepared when she feels Astarion push her head down, down, down onto his cock. Astarion moans and his hips stutter. “Fuu- Fallon , your mouth is incredible , darling. I wish you could see how good you look, choking on my cock, love.”

He releases his hold on her head and Fallon’s mouth slides off his length as she gasps for air, replacing her mouth with her hand while she breathes. She’s ready to go back in, but Astarion grabs her forearm and pulls her back towards him. He kisses her feverishly, and flips Fallon onto her back so fast she barely has time to realize what’s happening before it’s done. Astarion quickly positions himself between her legs and, this time, there is no teasing, no pause after he fills her again. Just immediate, desperate thrusts as he fucks her. Astarion buries his face in her neck, and she feels the sting of his tongue as he licks the spot on her neck where he bit her earlier. She threads one hand through his white curls, and the other goes to his back, lovingly tracing the scars Astarion’s former master left on his body. Perhaps when they get to Asha, the coven may know of a way to rid Astarion of the damage.

Their collective moans and the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room as they move together and she wraps her legs around his middle, pushing him deeper inside of her. Fallon can feel herself teetering close to the edge of her third orgasm of the night. “Astarion– I’m so close .” she moans in warning. “I want– I want to go with you. Please .”

Astarion nods and lifts his head from her neck and presses his forehead to hers. His hips are pistons now, and the rhythm is nigh on erratic. “Say it again, darling. Tell me you love me.” He whispers, and it’s like a prayer.

“I love you, Astarion.” Fallon whispers back and lifts her mouth to kiss him passionately. Within seconds, Fallon stars burst in her vision and she feels herself clenching and pulsing around Astarion’s cock as she climaxes, with him close behind her. When Astarion finally lets go, it’s the most beautiful sound Fallon has ever heard; she didn’t think it was possible for someone to sound pretty when they came, but somehow Astarion manages it. She will forever be in awe of this man and hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him.

The world comes back into focus and their bodies and minds slow down. Astarion does not remove himself from her immediately– for a moment they just lay there, exchanging slow, easy kisses while they catch their breath. When Astarion does finally pull out, it’s only to reposition himself on his side next to Fallon, pulling her close and wrapping their legs back together intimately. He reaches up to her face and brushes a few stray pieces of her hair out of the way. “You’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever known.” He confesses and kisses the tip of her nose. Fallon smiles at him dreamily, and before she can stop herself, she’s yawning. Astarion chuckles softly, rolling into his back and taking Fallon with him so her head is on his chest. Fallon traces lazy circles on his skin and looks up at him. “I really am sorry– about earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Astarion looks down at her with a blank stare on his face, like he can’t quite remember what exactly it is she’s apologizing for. When the recognition finally hits, he scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. “As you can see, it’s already forgotten, my love. I think we can call it even.” He takes her hand from his chest and kisses the palm of her hand, then her fingertips. “Not that I want to talk about the wizard right now, but I am deeply curious about what he had to say for himself.”

Fallon yawns again, wiggling her body to be as close to Astarion as possible, nevermind that there is no space of his left for her to invade. Her eyelids feel heavy, and she lets them close. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Promise.” She mumbles, as she presses a gentle kiss to his chest and she pulls her hand out of his so she can drape her arm across his chest. “I love you ‘starion.”

The last thing Fallon remembers before drifting off to sleep is the feeling of a kiss being pressed to the top of her head, and Astarion whispers, “I love you too, Fallon.”

Chapter List

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wind-becomes-lightning · 1 year

Note

For your follower milestone my request is a kibahina fanfic with one of the following two prompts or maybe even a combination of both if you feel like it lol: “Could he make you feel as good as i do?” / “i like being close to you. you’re warm.” (U choose) 🥰

hi anon, you are the last. I assume you are not around anymore and I wont hear feedback from you so I also will only half heartidly apologise for this being shorter than 2k.

Hinata X Kiba

Rated G

1403 words

Ao3 Link [x]

Hinata realises that she never felt warm until Kiba came into her life.

The moon was still high in the sky when Hinata was brutally awoken by a large dog falling full weight on her face. She shook her hair out and touched her cheek where Akamaru had hit her, trying to get together what had transpired. They had told the dog to sleep on the ground, but he never did, always waiting until both Kiba and her were so fast asleep that they couldn’t stop him from cuddling in between them. This is what years of taking your dog to bed got you, he wasn’t listening when you suddenly told him it was no longer possible.

Now that she was awake there was no way that she was going back to sleep any time soon, especially with the way the dog pressed himself against her. She pushed the blanket away, careful not to wake Kiba as she did and got up to go first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen to get something to drink. It was a clear night with no clouds anywhere in sight and the moon full and beautiful at the highest peak of the sky. She could see through the windows that there was frost everywhere outside. IT was probably ice cold outside.

The apartment itself was also cold, they had forgotten to turn the heating on again. Something that was very strange for her when one thought about her upbringing. In her old house she would have never forgotten to turn the fireplace on in her room, especially when it was freezing in winter. The Hyuuga estate house was so old, that no isolation pretty much meant nothing but longing for thick coats in winter.

Hinata's father hadn’t liked it when she made fire in the middle of the night. He had told her to keep it together, learn how to deal with the cold, like a real shinobi would. She knew that several other family members had complained about the quality of the house especially in winter time and while HInata herself never had complained about it, she still got the most criticism for trying to stay warm. This was how it had always been in what she had called home.

She had been especially in trouble when she made fire during summer, but she couldn’t help it, sometimes the house she felt trapped in made her feel cold and lonely and the only way to feel alright was to make a small fire, watch the logs burn their warmth out to her, give her the understanding back that she was in fact an alive human being deserving of comfort. THough she tried to be sneaky about doing it, the times she was found out meant usually that there was some stricter training on the cards for her the next day.

Really, Hinata didn’t know how real warmth felt until Kiba and Akamaru took up every space in her life, waltzing into her heart like they had owned it and offering her cosy place full of devotion and love and cosyness, something she had missed so much before. For this she was eternally grateful.

Kiba was never cold, he ran so hot that sometimes Hinata woke up sweating at night, wondering if he had a fever (which he never did). Inuzuka really were one with their dogs, with their wild hair and sharp teeth, so they also felt warm and cuddly like a dog ought to. The first time Kiba really held her close she instantly felt so warm and while back then she thought that was just because their feelings for each other were mutual, she was still so thankful for the warmth he was giving her.

“I like being close to you,” she said one day when both of them were sitting next to each other on a couch just enjoying each other's company. “You are warm.” Hinata had her eyes closed and head leaned to his shoulder while Kiba was sharpening some kunai in front of her. She wasn’t quite ready then to tell him “I love you” exactly like that, so she repackaged it into something that meant a similar thing to you. She loved Kiba for many things, but she loved him most because with him she never felt cold.

Kiba blushed instantly. “I like being close to you too,” he replied and lightly knocked his head into hers. “Because you are soft.” For a moment she had thought he would mention that she was cold, but instead he had called her soft, something her father had also called her. The only difference was that Kiba meant it as a compliment, he meant it as something he liked about her.

He seemed to like many things about her that her father had told her were not worth the family name she was carrying. How emotional and caring she was, how her strength was not physical but through empathy, how her bravery came from a place of the heart and not the mind. Ever since they had been assigned into a team together he had not been shy of making compliments to her when he noticed her self esteem was low. He was even giving out warmth by words alone, a warmth that Hinata soon got addicted to.

Now, with both Kiba and his dog living with her, or rather, her being allowed to live with them, she kept forgetting to turn the heating on or light a fire, mostly because both of them were always around her, their warm nature rubbing off on her. It was like she had never really been warm until she had opened up to the two of them, until they allowed her to come into their lives, their hearts and their bed. Even if that meant the dog should, technically, sleep on the floor.

Hinata walked over to the heater and turned it on, at least a little. No matter how little she felt the cold now, the room needed the heat otherwise who knew if the water in the sink would freeze someday. The radiator jump started and gave off its usual buzzing. She held her hand over it, waiting for it to heat up her cold fingers again. From the bedroom she could hear a loud snore, not sure if it was Kiba or his dog, either way, it made her laugh quietly.

For a while she just stood there, watching the frost glitter on the rooftops of the village with the full moon illuminating the streets like an especially bright headlight. She had always hated winter for the cold nights that left her sleepless, but ever since she had moved out she had started appreciating what people found so wonderful about it. Just a month ago she had stood right here, Kiba’s arm slung around her centre, and watched the snow fall slowly. It had almost felt like out of a story book.

Maybe, she thought sometimes, winter had not been the problem. Maybe the cold and oppressive thing had been the house itself.

She rubbed her toes together and realised that she missed the comfort of her bed, with her boyfriend warming her on one side and his dog warming her from the other. There was no way Akamaru would move to the floor again, now that he had so eloquently thrown himself onto the bed. The only person that could make him was Kiba and it was evident from the snore that he was sleeping peacefully. Hinata’s only choice would be to climb head first under a blanket into the bed again and press herself between them.

With a last look at the moon she brought the glass back into the kitchen and then turned to get back to the bedroom. Just like she had suspected, Akamaru had fully rolled to the other side of the bed, the one she had still comfortably been able to get out of earlier. She giggled a little at the sight in front of her, with both wild boys at the edges of the bed with their limbs hanging down. They were both so cute, she thought, that sometimes there was a real advantage to having a sharingan that could capture memories forever.

She lifted the blanket, climbed beneath it back to her pillow, squeezed herself between Kiba and Akamaru and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for the wonderful warmth to return to her.

#fanfiction things #nisi follower celebration #kibahina #hinakiba #hyuuga hinata #inuzuka kiba #im done with those byee

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iamburdened · 3 years

Text

Reader’s Masterlist #5

Not my stories. Just my favorites from other writers. All credits and support to the original artists.

IMPORTANT: like and REBLOG all the fanfics you read to support the writers, please.

If you liked the fanfic, tell the writer. They will be in cloud nine with your compliment! Show support!

* = NSFW

Link to all my masterlist (+ Draco Malfoy, Loki, Shawn Mendes, Tom Holland, Peter Parker, Angus McGyver, Newt Scamander)

GEORGE WEASLEY X READER

Love At first Sight @wondernimbus

Summary: Cheesy love at first sight we all need from time to time.

Be Happy Again @selfwriting-sugarquills

Summary: This is like a teaser for a series. Sadly it is Fred is dead canon, BUT this part has such a rhythm it's so good to read. I caught myself reading it out loud just to enjoy it fully.

Materlist @writesowhatnext

Summary: I recommend everything here. Period.

Fred Knows @acciotwinz

Summary: Fred and Angelina’s wedding is around the corner and Geroge still doesn’t have a date and that doesn’t sit well with the happy couple.

Masterlist @plant-flwrs

Summary: I recommend everything here.

Mischief @plant-flwrs

Summary: George falls for the mischievous pureblood Slytherin who couldn’t care less about blood status.

Wonderful Thing @pastanest

Summary: the amount of fluff in this will kill you. George and reader have an absurdly close friendship and of course they gotta a crush. Just read it.

Good girl * @lumosandnoxwriting

Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place. This is smut, babies, enjoy and be warned.

Under The Stars @feetoffthetable

Summary: best Yulle Ball I've read, cheesiest George EVER.

I solemnly swear i am up to no good @shysneeze

Summary: what if one night the golden trio is look at the marauders map that the twins gave Harry and they see the reader and George sneaking around hogwarts and they ask George about it the next day?

Finally home * @malfycs

Summary: george has always tried to prove to you that he wants what’s best for you. will he ever succeed in winning your heart, or will you break his instead? A.K.A long ass fic that ends in smut. Amazing. Read!

In Safe Hands * @theweasleysredhair

Summary: this is hand porn basically. And you want to read it, just go.

Dating Someone Shorter @writingwizardwheezes

Summary: for the shortie club

Here's To Luck @holyhead-hufflepuff

Summary: smooth George, reader and George's dynamic is amazing.

The Only Exception @chudleycanons

Summary: (Y/n) swears that she will never fall in love. George is determined to change that

Little Less To Love @durmstrange

Summary: I know the title seems angst as fuck but it's about George losing his ear, funnier than the 'I am holey' bulshit lol

Chocolate Milk @durmstranged

Summary: George finding out he is gonna be a daddy in the best way.

NSFW Alphabet * @gredandforge01

Summary: we are lacking some NSFW stuff so here is the good and old nsfw alphabet.

Sweet Like Honey @gcdric

Summary: It’s finally the day of the Yule Ball and you and George are both nervous as can be. Will he find the nerve to make a move or will you have to take drastic measures?

Masterlist @weasleydream

Summary: if you look in this master post, the less we have is angst because it's not my cup of tea, but this writer have some very good angst and I read it all without meaning to because it's just so good. Dive in and cry, you are going to suffer, but you will be grateful for it.

First Christmas @loony-loopy-lupinn

Summary: shortie one with baby Weasley first Christmas and cute daddy George.

Sweaters @fandoms-archive-blog

Summary: Molly having enough of you two pinning for years and giving a little help.

Kinktober Masterlist * @wand3ringr0s3

Summary: shameless smut in every piece. There are Fred fanfics here too.

Cherry, Lemon, Peach @harrysweasleys

Summary: george is obsessed with your chapstick and tries to guess what flavour you’re wearing.

DRACO MALFOY X READER

Veritaserum @wondernimbus

Summary: Draco is pranked into drinking veritaserum and for one day he speaks his mind freely. He loose some friends, get on bad terms with the teachers but worst of all: he can't shut the fuck up about how beautiful you are. This fanfic is perfect, seriously, the parallel between him being rude to you but not stopping telling you how he loves your eyes. It's * chef kiss*.

Two Sworn Enemies @wondernimbus

Summary: This is part 2 but still, Draco and reader hated each other since year 1, suddenly, the little shit starts to throw cheesy pick up lines at you every opportunity he gets. At first you hated it, but maybe, just maybe, there is more to it than you are willing to figure out. (ps: the way the writer builds the golden trio + reader friendship is AMAZING, also the twins are there so) (pps: go to her master list!)

Masterlist @adorerdraco

Summary I recommend everything here.

Masterlist @wondernimbus

Summary: there is Fred, George, Harry and a bunch of other characters here. Go all or it!

#readers masterlist #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley smut #george weasley x slytherin!reader #x you #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy x #fanfic #hp fanfic #george wealsey imagine #fic rec #recommendation

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naktergalen · 3 years

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Rivamika Fic Suggestions List 2

Hey there again! It’s been a while since my last rivamika post and I apologies for that. I caught the reading bug and have just been hitting book after book. I might be doing a book of the month suggestion starting in March. I’m still thinking about it but if that is something your interested in let me know. Or if you just want book suggestions just message or ask me. But for now, I’m back with my second Rivamika Fic Suggestions List.

First of all, I want to thank you for all the comments and messages I received from my first list! I think it has over 150 notes now which is crazy for me. I was going to be ecstatic if it got like 10 likes or something hahaha! I’ve enjoyed talking to some of you about fics and other snk stuff. Feel free to do the same after this post! I know I take awhile to respond but swear I get there eventually.

Same rules as last time. I’ve split this list up into four categories. I wanted to let people know the status of some of these fics in case they did not want to start an incomplete or in progress story. All of these fics can be found on AO3. I’m going to try to link them but we will see how tumblr acts today. If you have any fic suggestions for me, feel free to message me with them and I can add them on to the next list. If any author sees their story on here and wants me to take it off the list, please let me know I don’t wish to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Also, last thing, I highly recommend leaving comments and kudos to the authors. I know that they greatly appreciate it and it helps them with improving their writing through feedback. Okay shutting up now, ON WITH THE LIST!

DISCLAIMER: I know that not all of these stories are not for everyone, these are just my opinions and suggestions.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Completed:

- Thunder Clouds

Author: K_Lionheart

Rating: Mature

Sometimes I like to go to the very back of the Rivamika archive on AO3 and look for fics that have gotten buried over time. Low and behold what I have found lol! I enjoyed the emotional roller coaster when I was reading this fic, though sometimes I wanted to pull my hair out. Set after the titans are gone, humanity has to repopulate so arranged couples by the monarch are made to be wed. While this new order is being enforced, Mikasa and Levi are trying to work out their strained relationship. A slow burn with angst that will have you staying up till 3am dying to know what happens next. I know that there is a sequel to this fic called Nimbus and I’m slowly working my way through that one. Honestly, it will probably go on my next list.

- Red is the Only Colour

Author: mongoose_bite

Rating: Mature

A cute fic that was a quick but wild ride. A Little Red Riding Hood type of AU where Mikasa is a hunter of some sorts traveling through a town. I don’t want to say how Levi plays into all of this since it gets border line spoilers but just know that he is there. It is an opening ending fic for the author to come back if they plan on doing so but it can be interpreted in different ways. All in all, a fic worth of the quick read.

- Sing Me a Song

Author: LazyTrash

Rating: Mature

First I have to get this off my chest, I love the author’s name hahaha! I freakin wished I would have thought of that for mine! Anyway, this fic is wonderful but I will warn you that its a gut punch. If you like hurt and angst put together, then this is the story for you. I love these types of fics because I adore them so much but they hurt me in my soul. I don’t know what that says about me but whatever. I don’t want to delve into the story too much for spoilers but I would suggest rivamika fans to check this one out.

- Midnight Musings

Author: Raewyll

Rating: Teen

I just started to read Raewyll’s fics so I’m slowly working my way through all her works. This one caught my eye and I had to read it. This is a cute take on a chance meeting through texting the wrong number. I love the way Levi and Mikasa’s relationship blossoms into something more serious after causally texting back and forth. It’s one of those stories that I can only describe as being cute as shit! I’m definitely going to be checking out more of Raewyll’s fic in the future.

Ongoing:

- Beyond the Walls

Author: helena3190

Rating: Matue

If you love RIvamika angst, then look no further than this baby right here. This is currently my favorite ongoing fic. It was supposed to be a shorter story, but the author keeps adding more chapters so I’m not complaining hahaha! This fic is pretty much how I would *personally* picture canon Mikasa on how she would deal with realizing that she’s falling in love with someone. Its mostly told in the perspective of Mikasa as she is dealing with the after effects of war and trying to figure out what should she do with her life now that she is no longer a solider. Her feeling for Levi come with a lot of confusion as she’s discovering emotions that she has never felt before. She has a hard time pinpointing on what exactly describes her relationship with him. I’m anxiously waiting for the final chapter for this fic and dying to see how it will end for Mikasa and Levi.

- After the War

Author: loneackerman

Rating: Mature

I am loving this rivamika slow burn fic right here. Its similar to Beyond the Walls but I think the author adds their own taste of the 1920s into it. Set after the war is over (obviously), Mikasa and Levi have to figure out what they are going to do the rest of their lives. It has great tension, a perfectly paced gradual romance and just the right amount of humor to combat the emotional turmoil it puts you through. Again in my opinion, this is close to how I would realistically perceive Levi and Mikasa’s relationship evolving. I’m really enjoying this story and I’m looking forward to more updates to come!

- The Sound of Lightning

Author: LycheeGreenTea

Rating: Mature

A new fic that is just getting started but I can tell that what the author has in store is going to be interesting. Set several years after the end of the war, Levi and Mikasa are loving parents to a single child. Their peaceful life comes to an end when the family has a threat against them. There are not many long fics about Mikasa and Levi being parent so I was very happy when this one popped up on the AO3 feed. An exciting adventure awaits the Ackerman family now and I can’t wait to see where this fic goes in the future. There are three chapters as of now so head over there and check it out.

Incomplete:

- Home

Author: MissErikaCourt

Rating: Mature

One of the gems I found when diving back into the Rivamika archive. Ugh I HATE that this fic is incomplete!!! Its a good long fic but I’m greedy and I need more! I will give a warning first that this fic does contain heavy themes. Mikasa and Levi are in the underground to fight against a criminal ring. This story is a slow burn with action and emotional trauma. There is a wonderfully written OC that you easily get attached to its not even funny. Even though its not completed, I would highly recommend checking it out. I still have three more chapters to finish but I had to put it on this list. I know that I’m going to be pissed once I reach the last chapter written. If someone know MissErikaCourt, let her know that she needs to comeback to finish this masterpiece!

- Shiver

Author: bornsinner

Rating: Mature

Another one that I DISPISE its incomplete!!! Ugh such a great Office AU. It’s everything that I would want in an Office AU setting. Mikasa struggles between her committed long term relationship and her growing attraction (which starts to develop into some feelings) to her boss, Levi. Its hot, sexy and intriguing and it pisses me off that its not finished! The author writes each chapter as a one-shot but collectively together they tell the whole story. Highly recommend even though its so short. BORNSINNER where ever you are in the universe I hope you come back to finish this!!!

- Two Lines

Author: Crejhov

Rating: Mature

When this was getting updated it was my favorite on-going Rivamika fic. I would find myself checking to see if the author updated with a new chapter every week! The unplanned pregnancy trope is a classic one, but Crejhov does a fantastic job on keeping readers enthralled with soo many anticipated character meet up that are bound to cause hurdles for our expecting parents. This story is told from the perspectives of Mikasa and Levi in order for us to understand where their mindsets are as they plan for their expecting child and deal with their relationship. AHHHHH I want more of this!!! I was soo excited to see where this awkward journey was going to take Mikasa and Levi. CREJHOV COME BACK PLEASE I KNOW YOU HAVE WORK BUT PLEAAASEEEE! I NEEEEEEDDDD!!!

- Cabin Fever

Author: AmayaOkami

Rating: Mature

All I should have to say about this is that its written by AmayaOkami and that should explain it. Amaya is the one that gave us the beautiful incomplete rivamika fic Romance and Rivalry. I just adore her writing. Levi and Mikasa relationship evolves as they are standing guard over the arrested Kenny Ackerman. Secrets are discover about the Ackermans and it gets pretty steamy between our two favs. Great fluff and great sexual tension that leaves you wanting more chapters! Again AmayaOkami where ever you went I hope for some miracle that you come back and complete this one too!

One-Shot:

- Jade

Author: shulkie

Rating: Mature

This one-shot feels like I read a novel, it has such a great storyline. An arranged marriage between Mikasa and Levi leaves the relationship strained in the beginning. Their relationship evolves over time as Levi patiently brings down Mikasa’s wall. With smut added for all of your one-shot needs. Definitely worth the read in my opinion.

- What Remains

Author: Mirime

Rating: Mature

This one-shot gives us a glimpse into the secret relationship that Levi and Mikasa have been having while there are still scouts. This fic is sad but I would say it has a bittersweet ending. I think this was supposed to be part of a collection but I can’t find the rest of them. Still a great read by itself.

- Agape

Author: alienheartattack (Sanneke)

Rating: Mature

This fic is cute as shit! A College AU where Mikasa and Levi are childhood friends. Levi has to deal with Mikasa being at the same college as him while he is struggling with his changing feelings towards a grown up Mikasa. Worth the read as I said cute as shit, leaves you all warm and fuzzy lol!

- As Seen in Shadows

Author: MoraLeeWright

Rating: Explicit

FUCKING MORA! LEE! WRIGHT! UFFFFGGHHH Fuck I’m in love with her writing style. I really have nothing to say more that just go read it! Its hot and sexy and the sexual tension is off the fucking charts in this one. Its just MoraLeeWright smut thats all I can say. It’s great! JUST READ IT LMAO!

- Remedy

Author: NSummer

Rating: Mature

Another hot smut one-shot coming your way! Levi and Mikasa have had an ongoing affair and this just recounts their first time together. Its just some good ol’ Rivamika smut that I think that everyone in this community would enjoy.

- Nutty: Drunk in Love

Author: Hallow17

Rating: Mature

A fun smut to read about Mikasa getting “revenge” on her asshole boss, Levi. Things don’t go the way she plans as things get a little heated in the sexy way. A quick smut that I think is perfect for a little Rivamika crave.

- Spicy: Jalapeno

Author: Hallow17

Rating: Explicit

Another fun smut to read by Hallow17. Levi has been stressed out at work and Mikasa finds a way to help him get his mind off it (if you know what i mean). Again perfect for a Rivamika quick fix.

#rivamika #rivamika fic #levimika #mikasa x levi #levi x mikasa #Levikasa #levi and mikasa #mikasa and levi

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darthkruge · 3 years

Note

heyy Megan, I'm trying to do a character study on Anakin but im finding very limited information online. what do you think are some of his worst and best traits? his personality, humor and like his values? thank you so much,, hope you have a good day/night

omg hi!! thank you for asking me!!

*cracks knuckles* let’s get into it

anakin skywalker character analysis

best traits:

intelligence, overall skill, curiosity

anakin was building droids from scraps when he was a child. he spoke huttese and basic from a young age, as well. he’s an insane battle strategist, wonderfully skilled in battle/with a lightsaber, and incredible pilot! he can pick up new skills quickly, as well. i’m just gonna link this post by @chokemeanakin bc it just sums it up real nice.. but yes smart boy love him

compassion, capacity for emotions, empathy, understanding

anakin feels things deeply. i’ve talked about this a lot before lol. but yeah he is frequently in conflict over the sheer weight of the emotions he carries. further, as a jedi, this is not something his peers could relate to. but he always tries to be there for his friends and would do anything to ease their pain. and i think that anakin seeks to understand others. he’s spent so much of his life feeling alone and like no one related to him; he wants to know how other people work, feel, and think.

loyalty, friendship, caring

anakin is so fucking loyal to those he loves. and, tying into my previous point, he loves deeply. he cares, he always has. he treats droids as humans and forms attachments, even though they may be forbidden. he held onto that need for love, for connection even after he joined the order. and he would defend those he loves til the very end...

selflessness, protectiveness, bravery

anakin would literally dive headfirst into danger to save someone he loves. he doesn’t care about hurting himself or honestly whatever happens to him, as long as those he cares for are safe.

worst traits:

impulsivity, recklessness

i think we’ve all seen anakin be a bit impulsive at times... sometimes, he just doesn’t think everything through. this is especially clear when someone he loves is in danger. anakin’s lost so many people that when he’s faced with the threat of losing another, his judgment can become clouded.

insecurity, jealousy, fear

anakin is frequently jealous, which stems from his insecurities. he was probably conflicted a lot; brought into the order as a young child and told he was the chosen one. the weight of the galaxy was placed on his shoulders and, yet, he was held back in classes as a padawan, he didn’t make rank (canonically). i think these things are what allowed palpatine to manipulate him; palpatine knew anakin was afraid, insecure, and, yet, arrogant (my next point dw). he tapped into this and because anakin and the council did not have much mutual trust (aside from like obi-wan), it was easier to get to him. especially because palpatine used anakin’s fear of losing padme and his unborn children to do so. fuck palpatine bro-

arrogance

yes, anakin was insecure. yes, he was also arrogant. let me explain myself. he occassionally rushes into things without thinking, thinking he can handle them. i think a lot of this stems from being told he was the chosen one from such a young age. that title combined with his skill?! it makes sense he’d internalize it. i am now going to stop myself before i rant about how the gifted education system is a fuckfest. this is coming from someone who spent years in that program. anyway-

personality/overall rant about his life/motivations:

i think i summed up a lot of his personality within the best and worst traits because i got ahead of myself but im going to say some more!! i think a lot of anakin’s personality is dependent on his deep capacity for emotions. you can see that throughout ROTS, he was conflicted almost all the time. he grew up as a slave and all he wanted was to protect his mother. he built droids to help her and competed in podraces to tryand get them anything that could help.

then, he was taken to the order. suddenly, all these amazing traits he has make sense!! but then the person who’s supposed to train him (qui-gon) dies after anakin’s only known him for a short period of time. anakin’s attachment issues are abundant (i don’t think i need to explain that one) so of course he grows close to obi-wan! but obi-wan was trying to be strong for anakin. even though obi-wan struggled himself with attachment, he tried to be strong and put up a front as a “good” jedi for anakin to look up to. while this was helpful, anakin probably just felt more conflicted, as no one in his life could relate to the bredth of emotions he felt. this caused him to be more introverted and withdrawn (i talk about that in this post)

then, he loses his mother, she dies in his arms. the only person he’d wanted to protect from a young age, who he left to join the jedi, dies in his arms. he blames himself for this, thinking he should have gotten there faster, should have done something more. he probably also blamed the jedi, to at least some extent. why do these powers matter if they can’t save the people he loves? i believe he acted out of anger, killing the tuskens, because (at least to some degree) of the jedi. instead of teaching him how to express his emotions (pain, fear, loss, grief, etc.), they train him. to some degree, he might think all he’s good for is these skills. so he acts out of anger, slaughtering them.

and then finally he finds someone who loves him in the way he wants to be loved. padme stays by his side, even after he killed the tuskens. she sees the good in him and treats him as a man, not a prophecy. but once again, this motif of fear remains! he has to hide this love, one of the only pure and good things in his life! he has to live in fear every second of every day because, if the council finds out that he found happiness and love, everything is ruined.

but then he starts getting the vision’s that padme will die. and not just padme, now his unborn children could die, too. the one thing he has that is good and purely his could now be ripped away. he knew he was helpless, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it by himself. the council isn’t that helpful, telling him to learn to let it go with the force. while that might help any other jedi, it just pushed anakin away. he would never be able to just surrender and let go to the force, not when the life of his entire family is at risk!

and he finds palpatine, someonoe who has spent years trying to manipulate him. but palpatine is smart, he’s cunning. anakin didn’t know what the real intentions were and, truly, he probably didn’t want to know. he was blinded by his fear and if anything could save padme, he would do it. then the council try to get him to spy on palpatine. again, conflict. anakin’s loyalty is repeatedly questioned and pushed and prodded, he was probably so confused! he didn’t know who to trust. but, when you combine the current situation with his backstory with who he is and what he cares about, it makes sense why it all happened.

this is what i mean when i say conflict. he was pulled in a million directions constantly. and we all know how his story ends and i don’t want to cry so i’m not gonna detail it...

also: i’m not saying any of this excuses all of his choices, but it does explain them.

humor:

lowkey a dork

he is. and i love that about him. you can see this in the way he flirts with padme sometimes... like floating the pear to her and the whole “i don’t like sand” thing. he’s a fucking dork. can’t exactly blame him nor do i hold it against him! he didn’t have many close friends growing up and he was like pining for padme for years so it’s not like he spent that time creating a playbook

he’s also witty!

i think this comes with his intelligence; he’s witty and he’s quick. example: “general grievous, you’re shorter than i expected.” i mean he’s no sass-king obi-wan kenobi but anakin definitely can hold his own in a verbal sparring match!

also i headcanon him as having horrible puns but loving them!

values:

love, friendship, connections

at his core, anakin just wants to find someone who understands him and his emotions. who can relate to him. he wants those connections; in fact, he actively seeks them out. love is a key part of his identity. i talk about this in this post about his love languages so imma just link it there!

success, validation

tying into his determination, anakin wants to do well! he pushes himself and i think he’s a perfectionist, too. you can see this in the way he holds himself as a general; he doesn’t slack off, doesn’t not care. he understands the responsibility he has in that role and he takes it seriously! and just in his overall skill level, even though he was a bit of a child-prodigy, he clearly spent a long time training. he probably also had some imposter syndrome going on and was constantly trying to prove his worth.

----

uhh yeah i think i got everything?? yes?? he’s so complex and i legit love him immensely. doing character analysis for anakin is my favorite thing in the entire universe! if anyone has anything they want to add, please feel free!!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker character analysis #anakin character analysis #this is a rant i apologize #anakin thoughts #character analysis

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi Steph! How you’re doing? First of all, I wanna say that I love your lists. So, I was wondering, do you have some long Johnlock fics? Like, with a bunch of chapters and all that. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

I absolutely do! And you know what?? I’m gonna be selfish: No one has ever EVER asked me for my shorter long fics, so I’m going to take this opportunity to finally release this list, because it’s been sitting in my drafts for YEARS lol. BUT you can check the list below for the links to all my longer-fics lists! Happy reading!!

NOVELLA LENGTH FICS: 20-25K

See also:

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K (Aug. 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w., 7 Ch. || John’s Family, Fake Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Humour) – To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson's urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., 1 Ch. || Texting, Humour, Post S2) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w., 6 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He's charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?

Brief Conversations with the Woman by May_Shepard (E, 21,906 w., 20 Ch. || Pining, Love Fairy Irene, Filler Fic, UST/URT, Drug Use, Clueless Sherlock, Relationship Advice, Angst w/ Happy Ending) – Sherlock has a puzzle to solve, and his name is John Watson.

When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w., 8 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty's plans? John's supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w. 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

The One With the Proposal by kim47 (E, 22,375 w., 3 Ch. || Fluff, Romance, Marriage Proposal) – Proposing shouldn't be this difficult.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 23,031 w., 64 Ch. || Post-TRF, Online Dating, Pining, Epistolary, Cybersex, Long Distance Romance) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.) Part 1 of Dear John

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w., 4 Ch. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w., 9 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

Once Upon a Beast Becoming by antietamfalls (T, 24,042 w., 6 Ch. || Beauty and the Beast AU || Magical Realism, Folklore, Celtic Mythology) – An act of pride, a druid’s curse, an enchanted leaf; Sherlock’s torment has lasted an age. Hope arrives in the form of one John Watson, a man uniquely suited to break the spell. But with a single night to win his affections, Sherlock finds his carefully laid plans disrupted by a monstrous killer whose sights are set on the only thing he has left to lose: John.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

The Sexual Awakening of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson by suitesamba (M, 24,579 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, H/C, First Kiss/Time) – Sherlock owes Mycroft a favor. Mycroft calls in that favor by offering Sherlock's consulting services in a charity auction. Sherlock and John soon find themselves at the country manor of Mrs. Ives-Patton Smarmington III - not very coincidentally a long-time friend of Sherlock's mother - where they are reluctant participants in her Murder Mystery Weekend. It's a play within a play for Sherlock and John, and their roles for the weekend event bleed over into their real lives, waking the sleeping dragons within.

Tomorrow's Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining, Jealous Sherlock) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w., 4 Ch. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #20 to 25k #long fics #Anonymous

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

A Legacy Begun (9)

Chapter 9: A Padawan’s Trial | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

A/N: Didn’t have the time to switch on my PS4 just to customize a saber lol so I went to saberforge.com and used their 3D Saber Builder instead. Here’s what i made for Cassidy Kestis’s saber!

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

1 BBY

Your slender fingers wove Cassidy’s bright, scarlet locks into tight, chunky braids. You hummed her favorite lullaby—a force of habit—as you secured the end of the braid with a band. She skipped towards the mirror hanging on the wall and let her fingertips glide over her hair.

“Is that how you like it?”

“Yes, Mommy, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, darling,” you received your thanks in full payment of a kiss and hug from Cassidy. “Go fetch your things now. Don’t forget your jacket, okay?”

“Okay!” she hopped down from her bed and started rummaging through her cabinets for stuff that she’ll bring in the trip.

You excused yourself and exited her bedroom, Cassidy was too excited to coherently reply to your permission. The ten-year-old’s heart was racing, her mind imagined so many things that could possibly happen, and she began visualizing what the place would look like.

Due to her excitement, she didn’t realize that she had taken a bit of her time in packing. She had gone through a raincheck of the contents of her backpack thrice now. She hastily slung the bag on her shoulders and snatched her crumpled poncho lying on a pile.

“Coming, Mom!” she announced, speeding out of her bedroom to join her parents at the door.

She slipped her both her hands into you and Cal’s hands, the three of you left your homestead and trekked towards the Mantis waiting a few meters away from the house.

The ship’s entry ramp unfolded, Cassidy lets go of your hands when you’ve reached a certain distance between the ship, her backpack bobbed up and down in every step as she ran towards the luxury cruiser.

“Aunt Cere! Aunt Merrin!” Cassidy squeaked happily, attempting to fit both women in her scrawny arms.

“Cassidy! Look how big you’ve gotten!” Cere chuckled, her hand patted Cassidy’s head and then hovered it to the empty space to emphasize the girl’s height.

“Any longer and you might just out-tall me—if that’s even a word!” Greez came in waddling into the scene. He had all four of his arms open for Cassidy and she gladly threw herself into them.

“I grew three inches this month!” she bragged, then proceeded to tease him by tussling the non-existent hair on his head to further establish her taking the lead in this height race she has with the Lateron.

The captain grumbled, uncertain to the crew whether he was joking around or is genuinely frustrated that the once-tiny Kestis kid is getting taller and taller each month. You and Cal eventually caught up with the crew, greeting each other with embraces and claps on the shoulders or backs.

“She’s quite excited,” Cere’s eyes rolled to the side, referring to Cassidy who was now busy checking out the terrarium.

“Yeah, let’s hope the entire ordeal doesn’t deter her,”

“She’ll be fine, [y/n],”

Revisiting the engine room and then spotting the lone white cot on the side brought back a lot of memories, it’s as though a long time has passed since you and Cal slept here. It had become an extra room since the three of you have made a home by the forest in Zera III.

You approached the now-empty workbench, you weren’t used to seeing it bare, having only the non-slip mat left—it was eventually returned to its former, cluttered glory when Cal settled the toolboxes specifically for this trip.

“Everything she’ll ever need is right here,”

“Where is she?”

“With Greez at the cockpit,”

“Oh no, is she pestering him to teach her how to drive?” the idea seemed rich, you’re already imagining the Lateron dealing with the redheaded handful that is your daughter.

Cal’s mockingly pensive look and a quick glance to the direction of the door meant “yes.” The two of you laughed among yourselves, Greez’s shouts from the cockpit amplified the comedy that was playing out in your heads. When the laughter died down, you surveyed the quarters.

“Is it just me or did this room just got narrower?”

“Feels pretty much the same to me,”

“Yeah, brings back memories,”

Cal leaned closer to you, his warm breath blew on your shoulder and the hairs on your nape pricked up.

“Oh yeah, which ones?” he purred suggestively.

“Very funny,”

He teased you some more, brushing away the hair over your shoulders to expose your neck for his lips to brush against.

“Cal, not while she’s here,”

“We can always lock the door—say it suddenly jammed,” he nibbled your earlobe as his hand searched for yours to intertwine with.

He continued to suckle your neck, a weak yelp escaped your throat—his eyebrows flicked up upon hearing it, his lips curled in satisfaction as he continued prod the tip of his tongue to the crook of your shoulder. Your arm began to move by itself, reaching for the railing as support—you knew what your body was trying to make you do, with your only weapon being your willpower, your hand gripped the edge of the table instead.

“Well? How about it, love?” he sniggered.

You didn’t know why it pained you to pull yourself away, just when your body was beginning to heat up. You twirled to face him, looked him in the eye and gathered the guts to tell it to his face.

“Might I remind you that we have our daughter on board,” you steeled your voice, when you saw the puppy eyes being deployed, you bit your lip and fiddled with the buckle of Cal’s armor. “But later—when she’s sound asleep.”

A glint in Cal’s eye shone brighter than the white dwarf star found in Zera III’s sky. Amused, you stood on the tips of your toes to plant a tender kiss on his lips. You playfully clapped his chest with both of your hands before walking out of the quarters.

You switched on the holotable and typed the coordinates of Ilum. The message reflected on Greez’s computer and he charted the Mantis to its course.

“Now en route to Ilum!” the Lateron captain announced.

The family lounged in the holotable couch, Cassidy knelt behind Merrin in an attempt to braid her platinum hair which has grown dramatically over time—the length had already reached the center of her spine—and bantered with her father.

“Hey Dad, did you and Mom go to the Gathering together when you were younger?” Cassidy finally secured the twisted braid with a pin fastened to the back of Merrin’s head.

You and Cal exchanged glances, something warranted your eyes to meet. Then Cal quickly turned back to his daughter who now sat beside him on the sofa.

“No, we didn’t, unfortunately,”

“Would’ve been great if you did!”

“Yeah,” Cal trailed off, then returned his glance to you, a rather shy smile traced along his lips. “It would.”

The Mantis’s speed had slowed down, indicating your arrival in the planet’s orbit. Cassidy rushed to the cockpit. In her excitement, she stood between the seats, leaning closer and closer until she gets a better view of the ice-white planet that filled the roundness of her black pupils.

“Whoa, kid! Settle down, we’ll get closer in a few seconds!” Greez grumbled, both amused and overwhelmed by the kid’s wild hybrid of enthusiasm and excitement—honestly, he couldn’t tell which of the two anymore.

“Cassidy, you’ll hit your head once we get atmospheric turbulence,” Cal softly scolded as he assisted in flying the ship.

Cal cautioned her to buckle up and she ran to the nearest seat she could find—the chair opposite of Cere’s. The Mantis quaked as it cut through the thick clouds and heavy sheen of the snowstorm. Greez knew exactly where to the land—in the same spot behind a rock wall against the direction of the wind.

The child hopped out of her seat and sprinted towards the quarters where she had stashed her backpack. She moved with such brisk in the same fashion that one would be in when the phrase “This is not a drill” rings in an alarm. She slipped into the beige poncho with dark grey sleeves which she inherited from Cal. Despite the height she prided herself with, the poncho’s length fell to her shins—had she been shorter, it would have been a robe!

It didn’t bother her though, for she knew that it would keep her extra warm. She popped out of the quarters, the flap of the poncho billowing as she waddled about excitedly.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s already in the Temple,” Cal took her hand and the blizzard’s air wafted into the ship, sending literal chills down everybody’s spine.

“Cassidy,” the child glanced over her shoulder to the call of her name. “May the Force be with you.”

She repaid the greeting with a smile and then headed out of the ship. The coldest wind to have ever existed blew onto her already-numbing face, specks of ice pricked her freckled cheeks, and snowflakes have already adorned the twists of her braids as they billowed in the harsh winter gale.

“This blizzard is just the beginning, Cassidy! But don’t let it discourage you,” her father lectured as they stamped through ankle-deep snow—in Cassidy’s case, it’s calf-deep.

Her arm shielded her eyes as she felt the hand of her father on the small of her back, guiding her through the trek towards the entrance of the temple. A great mound of snow, perhaps meters thick, divided Cassidy and her kyber crystal.

“There’s no way we’re getting through this path,” Cal hinted, indirectly urging her to think for herself.

Admittedly, she didn’t anticipate that she’d be challenged head-on this soon. This didn’t discourage the Padawan, she unstrapped her backpack and fished out her own pair of climbing claws—she punched the wall, driving the metal nails into the rock face caked with ice and snow, and started scaling upward.

“Attagirl,” Cal muttered under his breath.

He watched his daughter scale the ice wall, Cassidy had become more acrobatic and lithe with her movements—something that she has utilized greatly to her advantage as she grew up with her training.

The beads of sweat freeze over her pores the second they come out, the closer she got to the top of the ice wall, the heavier her body felt.

“No…! Not now, not when I’m so close!!” she growled through clenched teeth, tugging her one arm out of the wall and then burying the claws again a few inches above her head to hoist herself up.

Come on, Cassidy! Pull up!

She coaxed herself mentally, a stripe of frosted sweat dripped along her temples until she finally reeled herself upward, scuttling through the snow to bring her body to the flat surface. She spotted a pair of boots planted on the soil, when she shot her head up, it was Cal; apparently, she was too caught up in reaching the top of the wall that she didn’t realize her father had beaten her to it. But it wasn’t a race, this was a trial—a trial that she had to face alone.

“Good job,” the emotion in Cal’s voice had unusually become stricter, almost sounding like Jaro Tapal. “We’ll be expecting you inside.”

Without awaiting a reply from her, he disappeared into the opening of the wall—Cassidy followed him into that opening and found an empty room. Another spherical entryway was found in the opposite side of the chamber; easily enough, she figured out the pulley mechanism to trigger the lens to open up, pooling the wall with golden light.

Cassidy followed the path that led to the platform overlooking the main foyer of the temple. She finds both of her parents by the ledge—her mother sitting erect yet relaxed while the father stood tall and proud, their backs turned against another lens.

As the daughter approached, her eyes widened at the sight of the largest crystal she’s ever seen—suspended from the ceiling, at the center of it all, white fog swirled in front of her as she exhaled her gasp.

“Impressive, and to think the main path had been blocked,” you began without prompt, drawing the attention of the girl to you. “But in this temple, you’ll find trials more challenging than the last. Finding one’s kyber is easier said than done. This whole place will test your mettle. Not only will the Force guide you to your crystal, but it will try you—constantly. Your training and skills are your only tools through this obstacle. We will keep a close eye on you, but everything you have to do—you do it alone. You do understand this, don’t you, Cassidy?”

“Yes,” she stiffened her demeanor and steeled her voice. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. May the Force be with you, my child.”

You channeled the Force towards the pulley mechanism, the latch tore off from the port and the metal cover rumbled to reveal a beam of the same warm, golden light. Cal aligned the giant crystal to the light, reflecting and extending the ray of light to the archway that has been frozen solid by another wall of ice. The ice transfigured into water at the mercy of the warm light and then turned to mist the instant it crashed against the snow.

That was Cassidy’s cue. Her Gathering had begun.

Marching through that archway felt like going through a portal to another dimension. Stagnant, cold air wafting through her freckled cheeks was her greeting, and the chill of the cave was her host. The spaciousness of the cavern took her breath away, freezing her lungs as she inhaled and relished in the unforgiving beauty and mystery of Ilum’s ice caves.

Surveying the vastness that stretched in front of her, no sign of her would-be crystal yet. Her eagerness has betrayed her.

“Come on, Cassy, keep moving,” she coaxed herself.

Cassidy aimed the center of the caverns with her eyes, then carved a path on her own towards the inner conclave—with her objective in mind—and disturbed the snow with the soles of her boots. There was an invisible line that she followed—she believed that it was the Force guiding her; but while she’s grateful of the guidance, the anticipation of a challenge, of a test, dangled in the back of her mind.

A rather narrow stone bridge appeared before her. It was fragile—almost too fragile, in fact, that the slightest blow of wind made the rock crack and dust off tiny debris and snow. But on the other side of the beam was much more stable ground, she didn’t think that the sight of such would be so attractive.

“Only one way to find out,”

She puts one foot in front of the other, her pads of her toes touch the first inch, she cautiously brings the other foot next without putting too much of her weight; in a feathery grace, she stretches both her arms for balance as she treaded through the balance beam.

The sound of the bridge giving way was trying to discourage her, but with every light step she takes, she brushes away the thought. Not long enough, she’s made it to the end. Cassidy exhaled sharply upon her realization, but the stone was already crumbling beneath her feet, and so she sprang away a split-second before half of it collapsed, falling into the foggy abyss.

“Did you hear that?” you snapped from your meditation—a way of tracking where Cassidy probably is at the moment.

“She’s fine. I can feel her footsteps from here,”

“I know. But this could possibly be the first challenge she’s faced so far,”

At her arrival of the empty conclave, the statues—caked with snow and whose details have been eroded over time—welcomed her with their hands clasped together. Fascinated, she takes a step closer, examining their details and textures, looking past the snow that obscured their features. This conclave was also the center of a crossroads; each path seduced her with the same end goal, but what they don’t show her is what lies between the crystal and her.

Like any other youngling with the thrill of harvesting their kyber, she wasn’t thorough with her thought process. She’s unconsciously imposed a challenge upon herself when she began going in and out of each pathway. The longer she finds herself losing her bearings, her anxiety, frustration, and impatience combined became louder. The snow and the cold air delivered these emotions to you and Cal Kestis.

“Do you sense it, [y/n]?”

“Yes, so many,” you replied as-a-matter-of-factly. As tempting it might be, you restrained yourself from connecting with Cassidy through the Force.

Let her learn. Let her do this alone. You chanted to yourself, training yourself do what’s on your mind.

It felt like the air had formed ice inside Cassidy’s lungs by now, after running around in circles for a good chunk of time. Vexed, she kicked a wad of snow against the tip of her boots; her little tantrum had allowed her to blow off some steam and thought of her Plan B.

Feel, don’t think. Cassidy recalls the words of her mother.

Keeping herself grounded, she closed her eyes, and concentrated—just as you taught her. Through her mind, she entered each one and saw what they have laid—dangling the prize in front of her like bait to a fish—using her instincts, she assessed them one by one. The moment her eyes shot up, she knew exactly where to go.

Inside the tunnel, it was dim but at the corner of her eye, a mischievous twinkle played with her vision but she never doubted it. She knew what it was. Cassidy followed the gold spark until it revealed itself—hanging by the point of a stalactite like a droplet waiting to fall. A meters-wide gap separated her from the natural enclave where the crystal awaited her.

“That’s it. I know it!” she gasped.

Cassidy didn’t waste any time in heading towards the crystal that calls her. It was the only thing that filled her clear, dark irises. She proceeded to traverse the hostile terrain. Sprinting to her left side, the rock pillars became her stepping stones, bringing her ever closer to her objective. The ridge wall at the end of the path connected her to the enclave.

Due to her over-excitement, a jump done too soon nearly cost her life. Her own climbing claws had her literally hanging on for dear life. Her startled cry ricocheted between the icicles, the echo caused the icy chimes to jangle in a tone-deaf song, the wave of anxiety that sourced from the young Kestis girl alerted her parents.

“She’s found it,” Cal declared.

You could only imagine how Cassidy is holding up right now. That cry that the walls of the cave relayed a different message, but one thing is clear: she’s in the middle of a struggle right now, and she only has herself to depend on.

“Come on…” you mouthed, barely a noise parting from your lips.

Cassidy scaled the porous ice wall, digging the claws deeper through the layer of snow until she could hit something solid. Her arm hooked on the ledge, pulled herself up and squirmed farther away until she’s gotten her body on the ground. Her head angled up, the crystal glimmered so brightly like starlight that she had to blink away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to it afterwards.

Her legs dragged on, summoning herself towards the crystal. When she got close enough, the crystal nestled between her fingers and she gave it a good, quick tug. She let the yellow shard roll on the whole of her palm, her heart leapt and she felt the air in her lungs warm up. She exhaled until her breathing transitioned into a triumphant laugh.

“I got it…!” she annunciated.

The second half of the challenge was finding her way back. Seeing that some portions of the path that led her here were only a one-time use; she retraced her steps—except the stone bridge that gave way, she had to think of another way. Fortunately, she was able to improvise another bridge by Force-pushing a boulder on her left side—landing it into a clean incline for her to slide down on.

From there, things were now easy for Cassidy. She hiked the snow-caked path and found the archway from whence she came. The sight of the giant crystal in the foyer washed relief over the young one, she kept her head high in search of her parents. They appeared before her, proud smiles riddled their faces to welcome her back.

“Well done, Cassidy,” you beamed.

“You have found your kyber crystal, despite the challenges that the Force bestowed in your path. Now, it’s time for you to construct your saber.”

Her parents regrouped with her on the ground level, she followed them to the entry blocked by the mound of snow. You and Cal glanced over your shoulders, fixating your eyes on your daughter.

“Together?” Cal invited.

The child beamed, she tucked her knees and extended her arms—mimicking the posture of her parents—and mustered all the Force she could gather in her being to blast away the mound of snow that barred their exit.

The storm had subsided when they got back out in the open. The family returned to the ship, and they were greeted back by the crew members, Cassidy was especially excited to show off the tiny yellow shard that rested between her fingers. Cal beckoned her to the workbench in his old quarters and showed her the toolboxes filled with components.

“There’s so many to choose from! How will I know which one is the right one for me?”

“You meditate on it as you build, trust your feelings. The Force will help you,” he directed. “It will guide you to what is best for you.”

“Okay… I’ll try, Dad,”

“There’s a good girl,” he kissed her forehead. “I shall leave you to it now. May the Force be with you, Cassidy.”

First, she dug through the container of components. For each and every part she examined, she selected the ones that might have struck something in her, much like a magnetic force that attracted her to it. When it was apparent that she’s finished choosing the parts—from the sleeve down to the emitter—she laid them out in a neat, straight line one by one, with the kyber crystal at the center of it all.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her entire body and began reaching out to the Force for assistance. Even with her vision shrouded, the components moved to her whim—they fittingly connect with one another. Her crystal nestled underneath her switch, the sleeve and pommel latched together. When the final click came from the emitter, she opened her eyes and found the finished product lying in front of her.

Shaky hands cradled the completed hilt, her thumb trailed towards the switch—she hesitated for a second before pressing it—the yellow beam that hissed out of the emitter startled her, but she quickly smiled it off and stared at the golden glow of her very own lightsaber. Finally giving it a feel, she waved it carefully in the narrow space, it hummed to the motion of its owner and she fancied a single basic spin with it.

Her heart jumped with joy, butterflies fluttered all over her stomach, and she celebrated this victory within herself. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of the bright golden beam.

“I did it… I DID IT!!” she squealed from the room, not knowing that her entire family overheard her little celebration.

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chocobostrinket · 5 years

Text

Chirp Chpt 6: Darn Magpie

Link to AO3

Rating: General

Word Count: 2372

Chapter Summary: Ignis alerts Nyx and Libertus to the situation with Rhea, and Noctis overhears.

Notes: This was fun to write, but I clearly lost where I was going with it. lol The next chapter, thankfully, will be better with a better resolution. Shorter than normal I'm afraid, but I've been sitting on this for so long it's time to move on I think. (Watch out for typos and weird grammar. Sorry!) I miss doing prompts and things, and would love writing more in this verse. Also, where do you guys want this fic to go? I've been thinking of doing a time skip soon. Maybe after these next three chapters. :) Either way, thanks for reading! :D

It was too early for this, Nyx decided.

It was morning, right before he, Libertus, and Crowe were to report in for training. The sun had just barely risen, which meant he’d had time to grab something from the fridge before heading off. And as he stared into the fridge, everything stared back at him. Every single egg, carton of juice, food container, and vegetable had eyes on them. And with how tired he was, he froze upon seeing them at first. However, his mind was soon functioning enough to realize that their food hadn’t suddenly come to life. He reached in and grabbed one of the eggs, staring at it for a moment before shaking it, and watching the eyes on it jiggle as well.

Googly eyes. He just had to be sure.

A sigh left him, and he placed the egg back with the rest before shutting the door. Perhaps he’d have time to run to the café in the visitor’s area of the citadel before going off the training. He didn’t trust the food right now. Later, when he was more awake, he’d be able to make sure there weren’t any other surprises. But not now. He just wanted breakfast.

Nyx, then realizing that their ‘beloved’ prince Noctis was probably behind this, went over to the edge of the hall and yelled down to Libertus’s room.

“Magpie alert.”

He waited for a response but could only hear curses coming from behind Libertus’s door. And when it opened, he could see nothing wrong. Libertus was in uniform and nothing was out of place.

But then Libertus pointed to his mouth and said, “Too late.”

Or rather, that’s what Nyx thought he said. It came out a little slurred, almost like the words were undefined in his mouth. Nyx frowned as Libertus passed him by, dropping a small tube into his hand. It took a moment for Nyx to realize what it was, and when he did he shook his head. It was a small tube of mouth numbing gel, with tooth paste around the opening.

“Did he really manage to spike toothpaste?” Nyx muttered, and then wondered what they’d ever done to deserve Noctis’s pranks.

He could only imagine what the rest of the glaive…

Oh no.

“If he got us, do you think…”

Libertus grimaced and that was all the response Nyx needed. The captain was sure to be in a bad mood today. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was limited to just the glaives, he’d laughed at more than one of the pranks, but Noctis somehow managed to find his way into the captain’s office these days. No matter how many times they changed the lock. How he managed to get by a ton of trained frontline soldiers, supposedly the best of the best, the elite, without waking a single soul up, no one knew. Nyx shook his head as he headed toward the door. Behind him he could hear Libertus open the fridge, huff, and then shut it again before joining him.

“How does he even get in here.” Libertus said, shaking his head as they walked, following Nyx as if on auto pilot.

In response he shrugged, “If the captain can’t keep him out, what hope do we have?”

Before Libertus could answer, they’d arrived at the end of the hall they were stationed in. Crowe stood leaning against the wall, waiting for them undoubtably. And she had a grin on her face that made Nyx narrow his eyes.

“You look pleased this morning.”

She smiled ever wider at his statement, and shrugged, “I had a good night’s sleep.”

That alone was suspicious, and for a moment, it crossed his mind that perhaps it had been Crowe who’d played the pranks instead. But he put that out of mind. They all had a sense for each other, and there was no way she’d have been able to get into their shared quarters without Libertus or himself noticing. His eyes were still narrowed at her though, as they began walking. She knew something, didn’t she.

The three of them walked together in comfortable silence then, heading toward the café. Crowe never cooked breakfast, usually skipping unless Libertus caught her. This was the sibling’s compromise. Café food in the morning. Though, Nyx liked cooking on his own. Not this morning though. He didn’t want to think about what else could be lurking in their fridge with the googly eyes.

It was a simple matter of getting their food, eating it, and hurrying on. Crowe, meanwhile, talked about Prompto’s first night with them. Nyx looked a little alarmed, having actually managed to forget about their new charge, but she quickly reassured him that he was with Noctis for now. And not alone. Libertus and Nyx looked at each other and realized that was something they needed to settle soon. Who would guard Crowe, and who would guard Prompto from now on. Would he be returning to the high school he attended?

“Oh boy.” Libertus’s voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up, seeing that the glaive’s section was open.

A silent signal that Noctis had been there.

“So we weren’t the only ones bothered last night.”

“Far from it.” A voice called behind him.

The three turned and found Luche and Tredd walking up to them. They looked normal, for the most part. Libertus raised an eyebrow at them and Luche gestured to Tredds shoes. And when they looked down, they saw he was wearing normal sneakers. Crowe snorted, but Nyx frowned.

“Dare I ask…?”

“They’re stuck to the wall with glue.” Tredd shrugged helplessly. “Think the captain will allow ‘I was pranked by the prince’ as an official excuse now?”

Nyx opened his mouth to answer, but then Sonitus had walked up behind the pair. His mood was as dark as a storm cloud, and his kingsglaive mask was on despite it being before training.

Luche turned and said, “Yeesh, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Those three were also a circle, Nyx recalled, and if Nyx could feel Sonitus’s mood from where he was, he wondered at what they were feeling from him. Rather than answer Luche, Sonitus lifted his mask slightly, enough to rub his thumb on the inside of his mask, and then with a firm movement, pressed it against Luche’s cheek and dragged it down his face. Behind it, a dark trail of ink was smeared on Luche, who nearly fell backwards once he realized what Sonitus had done.

The two quickly fell into bickering then, or rather, Luche complained at Sonitus, while Tredd laughed, delighted he wasn’t the only one who’d been hit. Both groups continued on, hurrying into position before the captain arrived. From there, it was business as usual. Though, they were a little confused by the captain’s good mood. Maybe Noctis’s hadn’t gotten him.

By noon, they were all worn out from training, and grateful that the rest of the day was supposed to be free training. Which usually meant being able to take advantage of the training room for sparing. However, Nyx was interrupted by the sight of Ignis hurrying over to their group, a troubled look on his face.

“Pardon me, Nyx, Libertus? Could you join me for a moment?” He glanced around nervously, as if something was going to spring out. Which didn’t make sense, considering he was potentially in the safest place.

“Yeah, sure.” Nyx agreed.

Ignis nodded in acknowledgement, and then turned to Crowe, “And Crowe? The king would like to speak to you. He’s in his office.”

At that, everyone frowned, and the atmosphere grew heavy around them. Crowe didn’t seem too bothered, but behind her, her wings had gone stiff, betraying her worry.

“Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” She said and then left at a quick pace.

The two then followed Ignis into one of the smaller training rooms, often used for private sessions between the prince and his retainers. It was only when the door was closed that Ignis seemed to relax slightly. But not by much. He turned to face them and began to speak.

“I’ll be brief. Last night Prompto’s home was broken into.”

The pair looked at each other, trouble on their faces, and then back.

“Was anything taken?” Nyx asked.

Ignis shook his head, “No. However, do you remember his neighbor? She… Well she’s currently stable, but from what I’ve been able to find, she might have gone to confront the person who broke in. And was thrown with enough force to level the fence between their yards.”

A hiss of sympathy left Libertus then and he couldn’t help the concern, “If nothing was taken, does this mean that Prompto was the target?”

“Potentially. As such, we will be implementing a schedule, so that when outside the citadel, the two of you will be guarding him, while Crowe will have to remain in the Citadel with either the king or prince.” Ignis stated, glancing at the door as if someone was there.

Nyx knew that Barn owl patterns were easily unsettled when younger, due to their odd ability to track danger. But it also could cause some anxiety when there was no need. He’d heard it was hard to separate the two. Of course, it might have to do with the rustling that Nyx heard above them. But that wasn’t anything dangerous, he was sure.

“Something wrong?” Nyx asked, unable to help himself.

Ignis glanced at him and then back at the door. “No, it’s nothing.”

They waited for a moment, and Ignis huffed, giving up the pretense, “Well, actually I feel like I should find Noctis, though I can’t figure out why. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Ignis trailed off and began walking toward the door. When he pulled it open, he frowned and looked down at the floor, as if remembering something.

“Oh…” He then turned to look at the two again, “Please, until we know his neighbor is going to be alright, don’t let Prompto know. There’s also a potential that the King might raise the threat level by one for Kestrels. Just… Keep an eye on both Crowe and Prompto when you can.”

“You got it.” Nyx waved a hand at him and watched him leave. Libertus stood next to him and sighed before deciding to go and find Prompto, since Crowe would be with the king. One of them should be with him starting today if there was an actual threat.

Nyx decided to stay behind, making up an excuse of wanting to run through some forms while he had the room to himself. He waved to Libertus with a smile, watching him leave, and then turned back into the room, and looked up into the far-right corner.

There, perched in the rafters, was Noctis, his eyes wide with surprise that Nyx noticed him.

“Mind explaining what you’re doing up there, your highness?” he called up with amusement in his voice.

Noctis opened his mouth, but no sound came out. And the next time Nyx blinked, there was only the after image of the prince where he’d been sitting. With a sigh Nyx turned toward the doors and saw Noctis making a run for it. Two could play at that game though.

Rather than chuck a knife at the prince, Nyx quickly kicked off his shoe, grabbed it, and threw it. Mentally he said thanks to his mom for his impressive accuracy and warped after it. The shoe hit Noctis on the back of his head, hitting him surprisingly lightly for how hard it was thrown. That didn’t stop him from letting out a shocked cry, nor did it prepare him for Nyx crashing into him at full speed.

While Noctis wasn’t prepared for him, Nyx was. He wrapped his arms around his waist, careful not to ruffle his feathers too badly, and lifted him off the ground. Noctis flailed for a moment, before simply going dead weight, caught and accepting defeat.

“Nothing good I take it.” Nyx muttered, and Noctis let out an almost petulant sounding tweet in response.

He released Noctis, who immediately glared at him and went to setting his wings back in order.

“You don’t know that!” He snapped, annoyed more than anything else that he’d been found.

Nyx only shook his head with a laugh and let Noctis fix his feathers. While he did that, he began looking through the rafters. Upon seeing no one else up there, his brows pulled back down into a frown. “Isn’t Prompto supposed to be with you?”

Noctis’s hands paused in their movements for the slightest of seconds before he answered, “Dad called him up to the throne room earlier today. Said it was to go over some of the details of living in the citadel. Also, to see if we could get in touch with his parents to explain. Though… I supposed that wasn’t true.”

Noctis’s eyes locked onto Nyx’s with an almost accusing look on his face.

Nyx held up his hands in an almost surrendering manner. “Don’t look at me like that, I just found out a bit ago.”

Noctis stared at him a moment longer before going back to what he was doing, though he was almost finished. It was after a beat of silence when he spoke again.

“Prompto deserves to know.”

At that, Nyx couldn’t say much, other than agreeing, “He does. But it’s for his safety that he doesn’t. Just until we find out if he was the target or not.”

Noctis stares that the floor for a moment, before nodding as if he’d also made up his mind, “Yeah, I suppose…”

Nyx breathes a sigh of relief, “I’m glad you understand, I mean I would-“

Before he could blink Noctis had warped away and was out the door, calling back to him, “That we’ll have to agree to disagree!”

“Son of a-“ Nyx warped after him to try and catch him, nearly running a few glaives over in the process.

“Hey Nyx! Where’s the fire!?” One called after him, mildly upset about being knocked into.

“Magpie!” Was all Nyx called back before chasing after Noctis.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #Noctis Lucis Caelum #noctis #nyx ulric #nyx #libertus #libertus ostium #Crowe #crowe altius #wing au #wings au #wing #wings #writing #writings #ffxv fic #final fantasy xv fic #chirp

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swishandflickwit · 6 years

Text

living in color 2/4

Summary: A year following the events of ACOWAR, Feyre tries to build a better world but struggles to cope. How is she supposed to heal the world if she can’t even heal herself? Luckily, words are not the only form of expression.

Post-war AU in which the Court of Dreams use art as a form of healing.

WARNING: ACOWAR SPOILERS AHEAD!

Rating: Mature for language.

Read: part i | part ii

Also on ff.net | AO3

AN: Feyre and Cassian brotp galore in this chapter. I love all the friendships on ACOTAR but a special shoutout to these two because I really adored their friend chemistry in the book and how intuitive Cassian is to other people’s feelings. (Except his own, lol)

part ii. brown & blue

I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things I had no words for. -Georgia O’Keeffe

Despite her earlier declarations, Feyre doesn’t immediately go out and buy herself a canvas and paint supplies.

Baby steps, she tells herself.

She spends her mornings alternating with Rhys – meetings with the High Lords, meetings with the palace governors, meetings in the Hewn City and occasionally, a visit to the Illyrian camps where Cassian and Azriel dedicate majority of their time and efforts integrating Illyrian girls into their training and armies.

The work is draining and slow-going, though in her hours of doubt, Feyre reminds herself of the promise she made to the Suriel.

Leave this world a better place than you found it.

And she wants to… is doing so. But, she figures, she can’t exactly achieve that if she’s always dead on her feet.

So when she comes home, her afternoons are consumed by the various plazas of Velaris and helping the people to rebuild the city.

(Though nights spent in Rhys’ arms is her favorite part of her day. It’s a different kind of art that occurs between them, when they make love and colors explode behind her eyelids.)

Wherever she goes she carries with her a sketchbook, only a little bigger than her hand, and in the moments in between – she sketches.

Nothing so grand as the landscapes and portraits that she used to do in the Spring Court. In fact, the images she scribbles onto her pad are seemingly mundane and insignificant. Sometimes it’s the snowflakes that line the edge of Viviane’s flowing skirt or the flowers that bloom in Elain’s garden in the town house. Other times it’s the rubies that adorn Amren’s neck or, if she’s feeling particularly inspired, the city skyline from the view of the House of Wind’s rooftop. It’s pictures she would akin to the ones she would paint in the cottage on the edge of the woods when she was a human.

(It is a period that feels like a lifetime ago and yet, as fae as she is in appearance, inimitable in power and everlasting in existence, her heart will remain, forevermore, human.

Endlessly and fallibly human .)

It’s when she makes her way to the Rainbow that she, as an artist, engages in her biggest undertaking yet. Except it doesn’t really feel like a momentous occasion.

After all… she is in the artists’ quarters. It’s no surprise that those who dwell here take the rebuilding efforts as an opportunity to, well, flaunt their talents for around her, she sees murals painted over any free and solid space.

So really, it’s more of a natural progression when instead of a roller brush, the residents equip her with paintbrushes of various kinds, thickness and sizes, and paints of countless colors.

In the continent, vandalism or defacing of any kind on public spaces were strictly forbidden and grounds for penitentiary.

But she is not in the continent.

In the Court of Dreams her heart is free to want, and what she wants is to make her mark.

Still, she takes a breath.

It’s her first sojourn to the Rainbow since the attack of Hybern. From her spot in the opening, she can clearly mark in her mind the path she is to take that would lead her to where she had killed the Attor. The memory and the tragedy of the day are as fresh in her mind as the air she breathes in. If she closes her eyes and clenches her fist, the clamor of the artists’ quarters fades and she feels the blade pierce through the leathery skin of that grotesque creature as blood spurts from the wound, staining her hands a dark red, the wind on her face as they spiralled hard and fast towards the ground and the sick thud as the Attor’s body splattered, limp and lifeless onto the–

Stop, she tells herself.

She takes another deep breath.

Baby steps .

She’s eager to dispel the cloud of despair the recollections had brought forth from her and so it’s with an excited grin that she ambles to the pile of materials in front of her and picks up a simple round brush. She is just about to take a stroll to find herself a panel to spruce up when someone calls her name. There is a steady number of people all scattered about and a quiet murmur ripples down the pavement as they turn to her, a murmur that grows into a chorus –

“Feyre!”

“High Lady!”

“Cursebreaker!”

“ Defender!” – the last epithet being the loudest amongst them.

The chanting grows as applause joins the cacophony. Feyre freezes when people from the other connected streets begin trickling into the main one and making their way to her. She’s overwhelmed, that much is certain when all she does is stop and stare at the crowd that begins to circle her. They approach her with bright eyes, wide smiles and love and admiration on their lips and she means to return it, to reach out and let them know that she appreciates it, them , all of it.

Her heart begins a staccato beat.

She makes to take the congratulatory, outstretched hand before her except her limbs feel heavy and her palms wet, everything around her becomes slow, like she’s navigating through murky, viscous water. Then the voices surrounding her are no longer voices but the screams of her people dying on the very street because she was too late to save them, the arms encircling her transform to ash arrows tipped in faebane headed straight towards her and she is numb, paralyzed .

The edges of her vision blacken so she blinks it away and for a moment she is back in Velaris, enveloped by the artists, living artists, that inhabit the Rainbow. Except the sharp sound of a metal bucket being kicked over reminds her too much of the Cauldron’s keening as it cleaved in three, and the ground shakes beneath her. What have I done? she thinks. What have I done? and again and again and again.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? WhathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdo–

Feyre?

An inexplicable sensation pools in the bottom of her gut that has her feeling both hollow and full and, despite her sensible side’s awareness that the dangers have long since passed, a terror so fierce courses through her entire being. But she endeavors to maintain that is safe and she is home . The fact that her mate calls for her, his darkness cool and soothing as it glides gently down their bond, is a testament to that.

Yet his voice is so faint, so far away…

FEYRE.

He cries and though she knows it for the bellow that it is, it sounds like nothing but echoes in the outskirts of her mind.

Breathe, Feyre, his voice is practically a whisper. I just need you to breathe.

She strains to hear him but what little of his voice does stream into her consciousness jolts her to attention and she finally grasps the tightness in her chest and the shallowness of her breaths. So she forces herself to take huge gulps of air.

Too fast, love, Rhys says softly. Give it four counts as you breathe in and another four when you breathe out.

She recalls the breathing technique as the one that Cassian taught her during their workouts together and she summons that training now as she grapples to gain control of her mind once more.

She breathes in for four counts and as she does so, she scrambles for the link that tethers her to Rhys.

I’m here, he beckons, his voice a lovely lilt. Come find me, I’m right here.

She breathes out and Rhys is just a bit clearer in her mind.

That’s it, he sighs as her breathing starts to slow.

Rhys?

You found me. You’re all right.

She doesn’t realize her eyes are closed till she’s opening them and dozens of pairs of concerned gazes are staring right at her.

“I, I’m so–” she clenches and unclenches her fists to stop them from shaking.

“Are you all right, my Lady?”

No matter how much she owns it, being addressed by her proper title is still a habit she’s not used to so even in her panic-induced state of mind she finds it in herself to reply, “It’s just Feyre.”

Somewhere in her consciousness, Rhys chuckles, and her heartbeat gradually steadies.

It coaxes a small smile from her even as she replies, “No. I don’t think I am.”

Cassian is on his way .

Though she has no idea what for, she says, “I’m so sorry, everyone.”

Just as she finishes, a gust of wind and a tremble of the flagstone underfoot announces her friend’s arrival.

She turns just in time to marvel at the sight of the hulk of a general navigate through a sea of faes he towers over, his wings tucked in tight so as not to accidentally jostle anyone in the face. She’d giggle if her fear wasn’t yet abating and exhaustion wasn’t seizing her every muscle so she grins, weakly, instead as he squeezes himself between two significantly shorter faes.

When he catches the look on her face, he huffs. “Sure, laugh at the one trying to help you out here.”

She shakes her head amusedly. “Hey Cas.”

He reaches her and places a hand at her shoulder. He immediately sobers when he surveys her and notices the clamminess of her skin. “You good?”

She takes a moment to assess herself. The sweat that glides down the slope of her back is cold yet her blood runs hot beneath her skin, like she could shoot straight to the sun if she spread her wings that very moment. But there’s a gnawing in her belly that keeps her anchored to the ground and has her limbs feeling cumbersome and heavy.

And she is tired, drained even. Had she been human, she’s positive she would be passed out that very second but she thanks the Cauldron for her fae strength – the only reason she can even walk much less stand. Still, she does not feel wholly all right, her emotions turbulent and ugly in her brain that her only thought is, she doesn’t want to be seen as she is. She merely looks at Cassian, her eyes wide and open and as if reading her thoughts, he shoos the onlookers with a “don’t you have work to do?” and the crowd begins to dissipate, leaving lingering and curious looks behind them.

He turns to her. “Should we go home?”

She nods and, too sluggish to winnow or fly but still quite restless from the dwindling adrenaline, they begin the walk back when Feyre places a hand on his arm. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” She frowns at the concern on her friend’s face. “Nothing,” she shakes her head. “Actually, there is something I need to do first.” He raises his eyebrows in question and she smiles, if a bit sheepishly. “Will you… will you help me?”

It’s like his whole countenance softens at the inquiry, tension melting away as his shoulders loosen and his playful grin returns.

With seemingly every ounce of his enthusiasm wrapped around his response of, “ Of course! ” he puts an arm around her shoulders and gives her an affectionate squeeze. “What exactly do you need help with?”

“Mostly housework.” she pauses. “And art work.”

“Count me in! I mean,” and his voice drops into a conspiratorial whisper, “I know this body itself is a masterpiece but, no nude portraits all right? I don’t think Rhysand will appreciate it.” He shudders. “Or your sister, for that matter.” She doesn’t need to ask which sister he’s referring to. An impish grin crosses his lips. “Then again, maybe she would be apprecia–”

She shoves him before he can finish the thought. “You’re an idiot.”

“A really fit idiot,” he returns with a rakish grin.

“An idiot nonetheless.”

He shrugs. “You know what they say about beauty,” he pauses for dramatic effect and Feyre rolls her eyes. A child – she is friends with a child . “It’s in the eye of the most good-looking one in the room.”

Case in point. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

He waves a flippant hand in dismissal.“Semantics.”

She shakes her head in feigned besetment. “Come on oh Wise and Humble One,” she links her arm with his. “I’ve got materials to gather and you’re,” she pats a muscled forearm, “going to help me carry them.”

They make it a few paces when Cassian stops her this time. “Feyre, what happened earlier…” she sucks in a sharp breath. “I just want you to know that I get it.”

“You do?”

In lieu of a response, he nods towards a nearby café. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Lunch?” There remains the leaden weight in her stomach but she’s about to voice her acquiescence anyway when his stomach releases an obstreperous grumble. There’s a beat of astonishment at the sound, resounding as it is with their fae hearing, before they erupt in laughter.

“I guess that answers that question,” she mutters teasingly under her breath, a tone Cassian chooses to ignore as they make their way to the tables beneath the charming cobalt-colored awning of the bistro. He did say he was famished.

When their food arrives, there is naught but the sounds of clinking utensils and the customary racket of a marketplace drifting in the silence between them. Faes wander the streets and heckle customers into entering their kitschy boutiques or purchasing their wares. Music spills from one of the winding avenues and onto the pavement beneath her feet as a musician weaves a blithe tune with a syrinx. The Rainbow teems with life and Feyre looses herself in the vibrancy of the scenery.

But a glance across the table at her friend tells a different story, evident as it is in the tautness to his muscles and the tension that lines his mouth – lips and brows bowed in a frown. A wall of iron shutters his eyes and banishes their light as thousands of stories, raw and sorrowful, flash before them. She is all too reminded then of her youth, that despite all she’s been through, she is but a child compared to her friend. She can only imagine what he could have possibly been through, sure that what Rhysand told her of their time in the Illyrian camp merely a blip in his, by then, already long life.

When he turns to her, she offers him an encouraging smile and a bit of that light bleeds back into his eyes.

“Will you tell me about what happened to me earlier?” she gulps, recalling the fear that seized her bones and rooted her in place. “What was that? I’ve never felt anything like it before, except…” Except when I held the Cauldron and it trapped me in place.

The bond between Rhysand and her flares in response to the thought. Rhys’ soothing darkness wraps around her mind, calming the onslaught of memories that threaten to drown her. It is a comfort, that though he isn’t there with her physically, she will never have to bear her pain alone.

Cassian allows her to trail off without question, in tune as he always is with her feelings, and for that she is ever grateful. The gratitude is replaced with worry when an air of aloofness overcomes the Illyrian as he explains the nature of her circumstance.

“You had a panic attack. It occurs when your body experiences an overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety. Triggers for such episodes are often sporadic but not wholly unpredictable…”

He continues to list off facts with a clinical detachment so unlike Cassian, she’s tempted to duck under the table or summon her magic to drop the glamour and reveal the real Cassian, as if he’s just hid behind some nearby corner.

But she likes to think she knows her friend better than that, so she simply places a hand on his forearm and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Cas,” she says soothingly, a touch of concern in her tone when she notices his skin is clammy where she’s touching him. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you about this, you know you can just… talk to me, right?”

In all fairness, Cassian doesn’t outright deny his discomfort, but – as she’s come to learn – nothing ever worthwhile comes easy. So.

They engage in a staring contest.

One that she wins with aptly maneuvered raised eyebrows and cultivated I-am-your-High-Lady glares that has him deflating all together in a matter of seconds . She tries not to be too smug about it but judging by the glacial expression on his face, she fails. She schools her features into an innocent one instead then gestures for him to proceed.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He heaves a long breath, his wings rippling with the motion, before dropping his shoulders and leaning back in his chair, affecting an air of nonchalance that must have infuriated his superiors when he was still but a foot soldier in the army. Once again, she’s reminded that the male before her is a general and, joking aside, has commanded armies by the thousands with a power nearly equal to Rhysand and possesses a kill count with that number to match.

It’s with that thought that she realizes, “You used to have them.”

“I still do.”

“No.”

Amusement flickers briefly on his face at her denial. She can’t help it – she has a hard time reconciling the image of the unflappable general before her with the immovable wreck that she was earlier.

He runs a hand through his chin-length hair. “It’s not exactly something I advertise.”

She shakes her head.

Even in the face of defeat, Cassian has never yielded. He’d spat in the face of Death, twice in the time she’s known him – an occurrence that has undoubtedly cropped up in his past and is likely to do so again should the occasion for it rise. He is steel forged in fire.

But even steel bends.

“How? When? ”

He gives her an appraising look. “I’m sure Rhys has told you all about my life by now.”

She shakes her head. “The bare bones more like, and only if he needs to. For everyone.”

He exhales, as if relieved. “That sounds like him,” he murmurs. “Well, do you know about the Blood Rite, at least?”

She nods.

He directs his gaze towards the street then, but she can tell he is somewhere else entirely – a place she cannot reach and one only he can see.

“We fought to be in the Blood Rite, did you know?” She did. “To be in that–that, stupid tradition and for what, to prove who could be the strongest? The most ruthless? Most bloodthirsty? ” He laughs, though the sound couldn’t be farther from amusement. Then he stops so abruptly that the silence becomes jarring. With eerie calmness, he continues. “The only thing I proved that day was that I would do anything, anything, to protect the ones I cared about, even kill – cause that’s exactly what I did that day. I killed my first, my second, my third…”

His eyes glaze and she doesn’t need to use her daemati powers to sense that he is entrenched in painful memories. She knows what it is to look at your clean and washed hands yet still see the way the blood of those lives you took continue to be drenched in it, that for every life you take, deserved or not, a part of you is taken too. In his eyes, she sees the parts of his soul that have splintered because the jagged edges match hers, and Rhys’ and Nesta’s and Elain’s and Amren’s – them all.

“I stole away all those lives but I don’t regret it, not a single one. Because those bastards deserved it,” an inferno blazes in his orbs and there is fire in his words, as if daring her to judge him. “And because it brought me back to my family .”

Except there’s no judgement but understanding in her hold, when she looks at him and takes his hand in hers.

The rigidity in Cassian’s posture fades and the fire extinguishes from him as he loses a breath, giving her an answering squeeze before letting go.

“That’s when it started?” She asks softly and he responds with a clipped nod. “They haven’t stopped since, although,” he hurries to reassure her when it looks as if she’s ready to burst from concern, “not as often and certainly not as long as they used to be. It was way worse before…”

He proceeds to recount how he would get panic attacks before and after battles – how he would be overcome by a sinking feeling in his gut, coupled with a mounting terror that gripped his entire body and rendered him immovable. He was only thankful that he had the presence of mind to bring himself away from his fellow soldiers or from the eye of his superiors each time, not that he could control the frequency of their occurrences then. In fact, he had no idea what was even happening to him, only that he could not, would not, let anyone not close to him see him in such a state of weakness.

She looks at him, her mouth agape in absolute awe and wonder. “How… how do you get through them?”

He smiles, the softest and most tender she’s ever seen Cassian. She tucks the image in the part of her mind filled with all the blank canvases she has yet to bring to life. Steel Warrior, she’d call it.

“I remind myself that my friends are well and alive, in order to calm down. The thought of them kept me going, keeps me going and the list only continues to grow.” He rolls his eyes and gives her a pointed look which leaves little room to doubt that she, along with her sisters, are the expansion to the list. She laughs because she knows his exasperation is in jest. “As well as those breathing exercises I taught you.”

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’ as Rhysand’s instructions to her from earlier come to mind.

“The others know, then.”

Cassian lets out an annoyed groan though his cheeks are tinged pink. “I can never fucking keep anything from Rhys. The moment he found out he took me straight to Madja. She was the one to explain it to me, to all of us. I’d have been embarrassed, but Rhys is such a mother hen and Az was being all intense so I figured I’d let them fuss if it meant they’d feel better, nevermind that I was actually the patient in question.” Another roll of his eyes but she can see the smile that threatens to stretch his lips, so she smiles wide enough for the both of them. It is short lived however, when she notices his shoulders tense once more.

“I’ve gotten better at managing it over the years. The last one that was really bad was… it was about 52 years ago, then again after Hybern. And you know all about that.” – of course, when the High Lord had tethered the Inner Circle to Velaris and the quiet that settled in Cassian’s mind in the absence of Rhys, the same kind he had told her about in the immediate aftermath of the events in Hybern. It’s all too clear now, why he had to be sedated, not just to save his wings but to save him.

He glances away. “It’s funny… as the bastard son of an Illyrian Lord, I had to fight for everything my entire life. Being dumped into that mountain for the Blood Rite should have been nothing – another day, another battle. I should have been used to it. And all the camp lords and the generals would go on about how glorious it all was, ‘an honor’ even. That’s why it took so much to convince them to participate – two bastards and a half-blood, no matter how powerful, weren’t worthy .” The last word is spat out like a curse. She’s inclined to agree, her face twisting in a sneer when she recalls every time she’s seen Devlon speak to Cassian without an ounce of respect. She’s about to voice her thoughts when she sees his shoulders sag, his hair a limp curtain around his bowed head. He trembles.

“Perhaps there is some honor to be found in a battle fairly won. But there’s nothing fair or honorable about war. There’s no glory to be found in taking a life, enemy or ally, not for me at least.

“It’s just another stain on my soul I’ll never be rid of.”

He sighs. “I am War Commander of the Night Court Army, yet I do not enjoy war. Some general, right?” A chuckle escapes him, an acrid, broken sound. “What a laugh.”

She opens her mouth to protest but he waves her off, like he didn’t just drop a bomb of information on her. “So anyway, it’s like I said, it’s not so bad now. In fact, I can even help you–”

“Stop it,” she whispers. “You don’t get to make light of this. You don’t get to brush this off.” She shakes her head. “You have no idea how strong you are, do you?”

He flexes his muscles in jest. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

She resists the urge to punch him. Her temper must show on her face because he raises his hands in a show of both surrender and apology.

She wants to say more. She wants to gush more like, as if to make up for her obliviousness by plying him with compliments. Not that he would graciously accept them, she recognizes a front when she sees one. For all his humor and posturing, to say he was hurting underneath would be a gross understatement – understandable, given everything he’s been through and all that he’s revealed to her. She just never realized how deep that hurt went nor did she fully comprehend the great pains he took to hide it. She doesn’t know if she should hug him or smack him for it – it seems to be a problem amongst the Inner Circle, the inability to be completely direct with their feelings till pain of death forces it out of them. But life or death situations are, thankfully (hopefully), behind them so they’re trying, all of them.

Besides, words are not the only form of expression.

In lieu of any violent or saccharine tendencies, Feyre looks at him with no shortage of affection when she says, “You’re a great leader and an even greater friend.” She dips her chin to catch his eye. “Don’t sell yourself short, Cassian.”

Knowing this is all he’s willing to take, she doesn’t wait for a reply. Merely leaves enough currency to cover their meal and a generous tip before rising from her seat. She throws him a questioning glance. “Does the offer of assistance still stand?”

There’s a hint of red to his cheeks, but the veil of despondency has left his eyes. It’s wonderful for Feyre to see it replaced by gratefulness and that glimmer of overexcitement and mischievousness that always seems to encapsulate Cassian’s every look and movement. He stands and with a crack of his knuckles, turns to her, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Lead the way.”

Nesta and Elain have long since moved from the townhouse and bought their own dwellings with the wages Rhysand so generously pays them and so Feyre is free to turn her old bedroom into an art room. Cassian, true to his word, helps her out.

Unlike her art room in the Spring Court, this time Feyre has a hand at not just filling the room with paintings, but with everything.

The sun is just about to sink below the horizon when Rhysand walks into a minefield made up of Feyre’s old furniture.

“Feyre?” He calls out with a modicum of bewilderment.

Her head immediately pops out of her old bedroom. “You’re home!”

Before he can muster up a reply, she is barrelling into him, all long limbs and tangled hair and swelling of paint and sweat and, he notes with relief, elation. He smiles.

“I see you’ve been busy,” he remarks once he’s released from her hug though he doesn’t stray far, his hand trailing down her arm to entwine their fingers. She kisses his cheek. “How are you?”

“Tired,” he admits. “Though I’m glad to be home.” He tilts his head in the direction of her room. “Is that Cassian in there?”

“Hello, brother!”

“Hello…” Rhys calls back, more out of reflex than polite greeting. He turns to Feyre, eyebrows raised in bewilderment. “Why won’t he come out?”

She bites her lip, as if to contain her laughter and rather cryptically replies, “He’s a little busy.” She tugs at their joined hands. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

Together, they weave through chairs, dodge wayward lamps and hop over planks of wood that must have once composed the bed with laughter on their lips before they reach the nearly shut door.

When Feyre nudges it ajar, the sight that greets him astounds him.

The once white walls have now been replaced with a blue, so deep it’s nearly violet. It reminds him of Velaris at night, when the last of the sun’s light touches the skies and the heavens clear for the stars to spill out. Sure enough, the sun sinks below the horizon and what little light reaches the window from the outside and that from the roaring fireplace, touches the wall. It flares to a blazing indigo.

Noticing his look of utter awe, Feyre gives him a playful nudge. “It reminds me of your eyes.” Her mouth takes the beatific form of her smile and, as he’s helplessly wont to do each time he is witness to her happiness, he feels his heart skip a beat and he’s mesmerized.

A throat clears, rather loudly, somewhere to his left and that’s when he manages to tear his eyes away from Feyre (much to her amusement) to marvel at the peculiar sight of Cassian on all fours and hunched over the skirting board. Even more amazing is the firm grip he has on the paintbrush as he fills in the space directly atop the baseboard.

Feyre expects Rhysand to start teasing the general but there’s a calculating look on his face as he appraises their friend. A bead of sweat trickles from Cassian’s forehead to the corner of his eye yet he pays it no mind, focused as he is on his task. Rhysand turns to her after a moment, a look of astonishment on his face.

What is it?

I haven’t seen him so… relaxed. Surprise colors his tone and he struggles with the word, as if the act of leisure in relation to Cassian is so unheard of, it’s practically a foreign concept. Not even before I left for Under the Mountain.

She eyes the tremble in Cassian’s arm as he steadies his hand to paint the horizontal length of the molding. She looks at her mate with more than a modicum of disconcertion.

I think you mixed up the meaning of relaxed again.

Rhysand rolls his eyes but the corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement. He addresses Cassian.

“I’m famished. I’m going to the kitchens to see what Nuala and Cer have whipped up. Do you want anything?”

Cassian lets out a noncommittal shrug and it’s apparently all the response he needs because Rhysand makes his way to the door.

“You coming, Feyre, darling?”

What is happening?

Humor me.

She shrugs. “I could use a bite to eat.” She walks towards Rhysand but hesitates at the door. She glances at Cassian. “You sure you don’t want anything, Cas?” she asks, an inexplicable anxiousness to her voice.

“I’m good.”

When they reach the kitchens, Rhysand waves the shadow sisters away and offers to take over dinner preparations so they could have an early night for themselves. They accept, gratuitous appreciation spilling from their lips before they shadow away to their own quarters.

Rhysand navigates the kitchen with an ease that she envies. This is something they did together, after the war – try to learn how to cook, try being the operative word. Suffice it to say, her mate is charged with food preparation when it calls for it while skinning animals, boiling water and heating soup pretty much sums up the extent of her culinary skills.

She helps as best as she can though her mate mostly delegates her into setting their table and preparing the serving platters for when he’s finished cooking. With nothing to do but wait and mindful of Cassian’s presence, she continues their conversation.

I don’t get it, she starts, what exactly was it about him that screamed, ‘relaxed’ to you? I mean, he refused our offer to eat. Cassian – said no, to food! She shakes her head because the act of Cassian not joining them for a meal is just that baffling to her. He never says no to food.

Exactly, Rhys shoots her a pointed look. Darling, I should tell you that as you grow into your daemati powers, you’ll find yourself becoming more attuned to other people’s presence and, should you grow fond of them, their emotions as well. You won’t even have to enter their minds, it’s kind of like a feeling or, he pauses, searching for the right words, it’s intuition . And it gets stronger the closer you are to a person. Now I’ve known Cassian for what feels like my entire existence – it’s as if I can’t even imagine what life was before I met him and Azriel so believe me when I say, something in him has shifted.

And you think it has something to do with the painting?

Partly yes, Rhys serves their meal but instead of taking a seat, he moves her chair to face him as he kneels before her, hands caressing her thighs all the way to the back of her knees in less of a seduction and more of affection. He levels her with a gaze full of awe and inspiration, all tender eyes and soft, smiling lips. But I think it has more to do with you. He makes a slow path from her knee to the side of her thigh, till he’s entwined their fingers on one hand. You have to know how much you mean to him, to all of us.

Touched beyond words, she runs her free hand through his locks, the silky strands of them slipping through her fingers before trailing them along the apple of his cheeks in a gentle caress. She wants to tell him that she feels exactly the same way – how she was so, so lost before he not just gave her but showed her how to carve a better way for herself, how her days are brimming with love and laughter and appreciation thanks to their friends, their family, that she was paralyzed before he taught her how to be a dreamer, that she’s thankful that they all accepted her and her sisters as a part of their family, that he inspires her everyday to want believe, not just in him, them and the future they want to build for the next generation of dreamers, but in herself as well, that thanks to him, she found a way to set herself free – but too many words struggle to break free from the tangle in her throat.

He sighs, and there’s sorrow in his eyes when he brushes his knuckles along her cheek. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there sooner. I’m sorry that I’m always too late.

She shakes her head. You’re always with me, whether we’re strangers or lovers, human or fae, alive or dead.

Sounds ominous.

She rolls her eyes but she can see the way his face contorts sharply in reminder. She shakes her head, a fond smile shaping her lips as she recalls Cassian’s heartfelt confession. Besides, I believe I was exactly with who I needed to be in that moment.

She brings their clasped hands towards her lips and lays a long, sweet kiss upon the back of Rhysand’s hand in thanks, because who else would have thought to send the perfect person but him? He exhales shakily, his cool breath brushing delicately across her skin as she rests her forehead atop his and with everything she can’t express, she thinks perhaps her mate has heard her after all.

They stay, locked in that moment just a minute more, before she slowly lets go. They share a smile, a conversation in their eyes when she grabs another plate. She distributes the food and with a tilt of her head, she and Rhysand return to the art room where Cassian appears to be putting the final flourishes for the baseboard.

When she enters, she catches herself before she drops their platters in jubilation and subsequently erupts in applause. Cassian, unaware of her presence, turns at the sound of her clapping, siphons glowing in the light of dusk before altogether disappearing at the sight of his High Lady’s enthusiasm and his High Lord’s arms laden with food. He grins.

“Food!” He shouts excitedly just as Feyre exclaims, “Amazing!”

To the couple’s surprise, Cassian turned beet red at the praise when any other time he would have preened at the attention. He scratches at the hair on the nape of his neck before squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms. He gives Feyre a playful nudge as they stand side by side in front of the last finished wall, Rhysand behind them and silent as shadows as he observes the pair. “I’m a regular artist, don’t you think?” Cassian says in a teasing manner though she could detect the underlying sheepish tone. She gives him an appraising look.

“Yes,” she whispers. “You are.”

Cassian merely shrugs off her response. Though she doesn’t miss the calculating look on his face as he surveys the wall before them, the wall he worked on all on his own, with a proud and quietly awed look of accomplishment on his face. He shakes his head as if to shake him from his stupor, before making a beeline for the food. He and Rhysand argue over food proportions as Cassian heaps a mountainous serving of food onto his plate. Feyre joins them after a beat, an idea forming in her head. Rhysand throws her a smile.

Looks like you have your first student.

She doesn’t have his same confidence but it turns out her doubt was for naught, because here in her finished art room, she stands before a work of art – one that is not of her own making, but proud of it all the same. Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling she’s done since Cassian declared he was finished with his first painting (after only a week of lessons!).

At his intense stare, she asks, “What is it?”

“It’s just, it was so… blank. And now it’s not.”

Amused, she replies, “That is, generally, how paintings tend to work.”

She gets a hard shove for that one but she doesn’t mind, not when they’re both laughing so hard. When she regains her balance and their chortles simmer down, a calm silence blankets the pair as they regard his work.

“I thought all it took to paint was a brush and some colors. I’m surprised at how much thought had to be put into it – the combination of colors to use, the kind of brush, the angle of your wrist – all so you can bring this image in your head alive except it’s not just an image, is it? It’s a part of you you’re leaving on a canvas that isn’t really a canvas anymore but something else, something you’ve shaped – something you’ve made and… do you know what I mean?”

She looks at him, or rather, she looks at his hands – rough with years of hard work, calluses in places a weapon would fit – hands that have killed. Then she looks at the explosion of color before her, the gentle consideration she can see in every stroke and the deliberateness in every hue, looks at the hands who made them. She smiles at him.

“Yes,” she knows a thing or two about beginning anew.

She doesn’t say the last thought aloud but when he looks back at her and returns her grin, she thinks he might read the answer on her face anyway.

Later that night, she catches Cassian just as he’s about to fly back to his apartment, his painting covered and bound for a safe journey home. She walks him out, a solemnity trailing their footstep, and when they reach the door, they share a look. No words are exchanged and she understands what Rhysand means about her daemati powers and growing attuned to other people’s feelings. A conversation passes between them in that one encompassing look – friendship, affection, humor, accomplishment, pride, gratitude and more than anything, healing.

She thinks about how Cassian encases himself in steel in order to combat his weaknesses – a battle against a terrorizing nation or a battle against his own body when assailed with a panic attack. And sure, perhaps steel bends.

Yet as he flies away, his work of art clutched tightly, lovingly, in his hands, of one thing she is absolutely certain when it comes to Cassian, to herself, to Rhysand and the entire Court of Dreams – they might bend under the crippling weight of a world that thrives in darkness.

But they will never break.

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