it's not wednesday but i'm too obsessed with little baby 8yo cass who is (as @unhealthyfanobsession astutely said) an awareness ad for unmedicated ADHD
For the @acotargiftexchange my giftee is @sssoulsuckerrr! Happy holidays from your Secret Santa! I hope you love this Nessian story as much as I loved writing it for you.
Nesta and Cassian have been casual for a few months now. Some flirting here, a hook up or two there. As they find themselves falling in love, their tension comes to a head after Nesta's figure skating showcase when she finds herself in the place she's most comfortable. Where she is seen.
Cassian fussed with plastic and paper holding together the bouquet of white and light pink flowers. The damn corners won’t stop getting caught in the Baby’s Breath and his thick leather gloves aren’t helping the process of unticking it either. Stupid freaking thing, Cass screams in his head.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. Take a deep breath dude.
Taking a deep breath in and out he’s thankful the parking lot is devoid of people. He must look foolish fighting with a bouquet of flowers and doing calming techniques. Shaking out his arms to repel his nerves Cassian finally pushes the door open to the ice rink, stepping into the warm lobby buzzing with people.
His eyes darted over the heads of groups trying to find his family. Azriel – ever observant – locks eyes with Cassian immediately, waving him over.
“I thought you’d never show, now I owe Rhys twenty bucks.” Azriel says, giving his brother a sarcastic eye roll. Cassian shakes his head at Azriel as if to say ‘not tonight’.
He understands why his brothers made the bet but he can’t help but be angry with them. Yes, Cassian and Nesta bicker, making jabs about how one “hates” the other. Never once has Cassian meant it. It’s their odd way of flirting without doing it out right. Besides, he always made up for it.
If Cassian was honest Nesta made him nervous. He was just trying to match her tone and if she wanted bickering that’s what he’d give her.
Elain pokes her head next to her Feyre’s to break into the circle they’ve formed, a drink tray full of steaming cups of hot chocolate in each hand. “Are we ready? Gwyn and Em are saving our seats.” Cassian nods, moving quickly to take one of the trays from the youngest Archeron. She gives him her signature sweet smile which quickly turns into a wide grin at the sight of the large bouquet in his hand.
No one knew Nesta better than Elain. She always saw their bickering for what it was and couldn’t help but appreciate Cassian for knowing what her sister needed. Seeing Cassian nervous to be here yet ready to support Nesta spoke volumes to them all.
The group files up the bleachers finding Gwyn and Emerie smack dab in the center just a little up high. Cassian remembers Nesta once saying they’re the best seats to see the ice. And he wanted to see everything.
Cassian tuned out the chatter around them, his leg bouncing from lingering nerves. Nesta goes last and he feels like he might throw up for her. She once told him that she doesn’t get nervous before skating at competitions like these. It threw Cassian into a spiral. How could you not get nervous, he would ask.
Nesta had cooly responded, “All I feel is anger towards them. I use that to be better than my competition because I am better.”
That sent chills down Cassian’s spine. There was something darker to Nesta’s answer that concerned him. He wouldn’t ask because he knew Nesta would shut down. When she is ready to face whatever that darkness is inside her Cassian would be there for her. He promised her a long time ago he would never leave, and he meant it. Though he isn’t quite sure Nesta took him seriously.
The lights go out and Cassian’s attention snaps to the ice. His posture is straighter than ever as he watches Nesta’s competition.
None of them have her grace or beautiful harshness. Cassian watches intently, naming the moves and tricks each skater performed that Nesta had told him about. He smirked as one girl wobbled trying to land her double axel. He felt bad mentally cheering for this girl's failure but he’ll live.
Finally, the headliner.
The rink lights go out one last time, the spotlight finding Nesta as she makes her way to the center of the ice. She doesn’t look at the crowd once as she skates out.
Cassian can see Nesta’s focus in her eyes from his seat. As the music starts Cassian holds his breath, his heart thundering in his chest in anticipation of watching Nesta fly across the ice.
Nesta raises her arms above her head, her hands graceful and soft. As the music starts Nesta pushes up onto her toe picks, taking little steps like a ballerina on pointe.
The music gets louder and Nesta drops back down to her blades to match the tempo. Cassian watches in awe as she glides across the ice, spinning and jumping, feeling the music so intensely it’s clear all she feels is herself and the ice beneath her feet.
As the end nears Nesta found her way to center ice again, spinning so fast Cassian couldn’t fathom how she wasn’t sick. She stops with the music, back arched with her chest to the sky, one foot pointed behind her.
The arena erupts in applause as the spotlight fades and the lights come back up. Nesta bows, her eyes sweep over the crowd, landing on Cassian. He’s standing as he applauds furiously with the proudest looking smile on his face. Nesta’s lips twitch as she tries to hold in her joy at seeing him.
—
To celebrate Nesta (and her unofficial win) Rhys treated everyone to a night out at their favorite bar. As the night went on Nesta found her way to Cassian. The conversation was awkward at first, nothing like their heated text messages. Granted, the last time they saw each other like this was a month ago for the holiday and didn’t think they would see each other until the next one.
Cassian had the best gift picked out for Nesta along with a whole feelings-confessing speech up his sleeve. Tonight threw that all out the window however.
As everyone said their goodbyes outside, walking off to their cars, Nesta lingered next to Cassian, waiting to truly be alone with him.
All it took was one look and Nesta was happily slipping her hand into Cassian’s larger one. The feeling of her fingers entwined with his sends a slight heat to her cheeks, making her thoughts wander about how it would feel to be fully wrapped up in Cassian.
“Where to Nes?” He smirks at her from the driver's seat. Taking a moment to consider, Nesta replies, “Yours.”
Cassian pushed down the giddy feeling that quickly overcame him. Still smiling like a fool, he put the car in drive, speeding off toward his home.
Twenty minutes later Nesta is admiring how the moon shines through the clouds and barren branches that create a canopy over the long driveway leading up to Cassian’s house. She likes it here. It’s quiet and calm. Safe.
After Nesta and her sisters moved out as soon as she turned 18 and could legally take care of them, she’s been looking for a place that could give her this. She just never thought Cassian would be beside her.
Nesta shakes the thought of life with Cassian from her head before it can form any further. It’s a dangerous path to go down when there is so much unspoken between them.
As Cassian parks the first snow flakes start to fall and Nesta can’t help the smile breaking out on her lips. Last winter she discovered the best place to watch the snow fall was Cassian’s house. His living room has a wall of floor to ceiling windows that look out into his backyard and the lake beyond it.
Cassian takes Nesta’s hand again, leading her up the walkway to the house. They stay silent as they get settled, Cassian turning on all the lights and getting Nesta a glass of wine. As she waits for him, Nesta is pulled to her favorite spot in the house.
Turning off the living room lights, Nesta stands in front of the large windows, arms crossed watching the snow drift over the lake. The current looking fast and unforgiving in the dark.
The light flicks back on making Nesta jump, her hand grasping at her chest where her heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she stepped on the ice. Spotting Cassian’s smirking reflection in the window, Nesta rolls her eyes at him.
“Thought I’d find you here.” Cassian teases. Nesta rolls her eyes again, holding her hand out to accept the glass. “Because you know me so well.” Cassian shrugs, handing her the glass. “I don’t like to brag, but yeah, I do.”
Nesta takes a long sip of her wine, never breaking her gaze from Cassian’s. Giving him another smirk Nesta turns back to the window. Cassian sets down his own glass to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. She leans back into his strong chest. Comfortable in his embrace more than anywhere else.
“Why do you like the view here so much?” Cassian asks, breaking their peaceful silence.
Nesta takes a moment to figure out how to word her response. Her silence causes Cassian’s heart beat to speed up. “It’s a great view. I just feel…good here, ya know.” The rest of her thoughts get caught in her throat. Scared to admit her true feelings, scared she would sound clingy or needy.
Cassian, ever attentive when it comes to Nesta, gives her hip an encouraging squeeze. His thumb slips under the hem of her shirt rubbing little circles against her soft skin.
Taking a deep breath Nesta turns in his hold, wrapping her arms around his neck. Cassian’s eyes widen just a little at the bold move.
Nesta averts her gaze so she can take deep calming breaths. It’s as if she were to step out on the ice and perform all over again. Just as she was about to back away and play off the tension as if it were all in Cassian’s head, he leans down and whispers in her ear. “You can tell me Nes. Always.” The deep cadence of his voice sends a shiver down her spine. Her fingers grasping at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He was soft and welcoming and everything she doesn’t deserve.
Cassian pulls Nesta closer to him, her forehead resting on his chest. “I’m here Nesta. I’m not leaving.” She tilts her head back to look at Cassian. To see that unwavering loyalty shining in his hazel eyes.
“You give me peace Cassian. Everything about you is a comfort to me, which is what I’ve searched for for a long time. I’ve been hesitant to tell you in case you don’t feel the same way because I can’t keep coming here and falling for you if this is just casual.” Nesta swallows the familiar lump in her throat, stopping herself before a sob can break free.
She feels Cassian let go of her and Nesta swears she feels her heart stop. It’s ok, she tells herself. I can leave and he can be just another memory.
Bracing herself for the inevitable rejection – for being told she’s too cold, too distant, all things guys have said to her before. It never comes. Instead, Cassian’s warm hands cradle her cheeks. The rough pads of his thumbs wiping away tears she didn’t realize escaped.
“How could I possibly not feel the same way? The first time I laid eyes on you Nesta, good god, I knew I was a goner for you.”
“You don’t think I’m cruel or detached?” Nesta sniffles out, letting go of the fear of showing her feelings.
Cassian shakes his head. “Never. Anyone that has ever said that about you has never truly seen you, Nes. I see you. All of you.”
Nesta gives him a watery smile. It hits her like a wave that this thing with Cassian is real.
His lips crash against Nesta’s. The kiss is hurried but not, desperate to feel one another, not wanting to let go of this first real kiss for them. Cassian pulls away so their lips barely touch to back them on to the couch, pulling Nesta onto his lap. Wrapping herself around him, Nesta presses soft kisses up Cassian’s neck. He lets out a satisfied groan as she moves up across his jaw back to his lips.
They sit like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other, lips slowly moving against each other until they couldn’t breathe.
And when they could breathe Cassian kept Nesta tucked under his chin. Telling each other when they knew they were in love and basking in that comfortable silence only they can share.
no one else sees me
no one else knows me
no one else love me
(but you)
(but you)
(but you)
preview below the cut, read on ao3 here
They stop off at Cassian’s apartment first, though Nesta makes him wait in the car while she goes to collect some stuff from upstairs. He’ll definitely need his knee brace, and if he weren’t so tired he would’ve burst out laughing to see her lug his giant body pillow to the car.
“I watered your plants,” she says when she gets back in the driver’s seat. He can’t help staring at her profile the whole way back to her place, chosen unilaterally because of its elevator. It’s enough to ignore how hungry he is until they finally collapse inside.
“Chinese?”
“Or pho,” Nesta responds. “I’m fucking freezing.”
“You’re so smart.”
Packing ice on his knee, Cassian settles on the couch while Nesta tips the delivery guy all the cash in the bowl by the door. She throws on the first suggestion on Netflix—Heathers—and it’s enough ambient noise above the slurping of noodles.
Until poor Heather Chandler starts choking on the drain cleaner and Nesta jumps like she’s touched an electric fence, grabbing for the remote. She scrolls through endless episodes of Whatever Housewives of Somewhere, swerves toward a documentary about hummingbirds before throwing the remote on the cushion between them.
“I’m all over the place,” she mutters. “Can you decide?”
He stretches instead, too close to sinking under the weight of the day, and turns off the TV.
“Let’s go lay down.”
Nesta’s still once they’re buoyed in her frothy white duvet, once she’s tucked in his arms.
“Is this my fault?” she whispers, toying with a loose thread.
“No,” he says firmly. “No. It’s not.”
She frowns, but lets him draw her back closer to his chest, anyway.
Vertigo spins out his thoughts from so many highs and lows, and the echo of this morning comes back in black and white, it feels so ancient. But Cassian inhales deeply into Nesta’s hair, sweet vanilla and smoke. Lets it summon up the words he’s kept deep and close, too sacred to share on his family’s cursed ground.
“I love you, Nesta.”
Her eyes droop when she turns to face him, thigh hooking over his hip. She’s sounds just as exhausted as he feels when she says. “Today was too much to have sex right now. But just know if it wasn’t, I’d ride your face until you suffocated.”
“What a way to go, though,” Cassian mumbles, before sleep captures him in its waiting arms.
read the latest chapter on ao3, or start from the beginning here
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Maybe we should—” Feyre cuts in, reaching for another present. But it’s her phone she retrieves instead with a little noise of surprise, her faux smile football-stadium bright as she answers. “Hey, Dad!”
Stunned terror lights up Nesta’s body. It’s like the first time she saw the girl come out of the TV in The Ring, remote horror thrust into reality. Her hands sweat and her legs start to shake, wanting to run.
“I’ll tell him,” Feyre is saying when the static in Nesta’s head finally clears. Somewhere Morrigan is still protesting but it doesn’t matter, none of it’s real. “Yes, I’ll tell him. No, I don’t know if the drinks package has an upper limit. Anyway, Merry Christmas! Here’s Nesta.”
The phone dangles from her sister’s thumb and pointer finger like a bathtub hair clog and Nesta doesn’t want to crunch down the space between herself and Niles’ voice. It’s too much, too dense for them to slam into each other at high speed like this. The time and the weight and the bullshit are supermassive and it’ll collapse the whole house if he even breathes his atoms down the line.
“Nesta,” Feyre repeats, impatient. “Take it.”
Nesta doesn’t move. Gravity sucks in the conversation around them and this is horrible and everyone is watching.
But her sister tries again, arm stretching. “Just say hi to Dad, okay? It’s not that bad. Thirty seconds.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Take the phone.” Frustration colors a circle high on Feyre’s cheeks when Nesta still doesn’t comply.
happy thangstgiving part II, this shit is straight bursting from my head like athena popped outta zeus’ dome fully-formed
CW for past sexual assault and childhood abuse, drug use, explicit sexual content, discussions of drug/alcohol abuse and sobriety, mental health crisis, and toxic families.
preview under the cut
Cassian is not feeling full of holiday cheer.
He’s full of everything else — turkey, macaroni and cheese, Elain’s insanely good stuffing that tastes familiar somehow. Full of shit as he laughs loudly at Mor’s recounting of her date with a guy whose name neither of them will remember. Full of remorse when he sees Azriel tip another two fingers of bourbon into his glass, sinking lower into the chair by the window. Full of envy at the way Rhys and Feyre pet each other, the syrupy devotion in their eyes enough to put him off dessert.
And in spite of it all, he still feels empty.
He’s long thought it his lot in life to feel chronically empty, born with missing pieces. Where others have memories of family beach trips, biking in the neighborhood, squishing onto the same couch to watch Aladdin, he has nothing, a hole where those experiences should be. A vague memory of watching Aladdin on the RadioShack display TVs at the mall, straining to read the characters’ lips because they’ll chase him out of the store if he tries to linger.
It’s too boring to be depressing in any satisfying kind of way. Big trauma gives people something to rage against, an enemy to fight and overcome. The empty spaces do nothing but whistle when he tries to blow through them, and scratching at the walls only hurts himself in the end. He’s given up on trying to make sense of it, come to accept that his birth was an inevitable factory error on the conveyor belt of human beings, spitting him out with a defect but shipping him off anyway.
