Two out-of-the-blue headcanons as to why Stan owns all these board games:
1. They’re actually Ford’s from forever ago, hence why the boxes look pretty beat up, and he and McGucket would play them all the time together when they weren’t working on the portal. (I looked it up and nearly all the games these are based off of existed back in the 70s/80s.)
2. When Stan found out that Dipper and Mabel were coming to stay for the summer he figured that he had to get something to keep them “preoccupied and out of his hair”, so he picked them up for like a buck each at some random family’s yard sale.
Nesta’s throat bobbed. “Please.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard
that word from her mouth. “Please—do not leave us to face this alone.” The eldest queen
remained unmoved. I had no words in my head. We had shown them
… we had … we had done everything. Even Rhys was silent, his face unreadable. But then Cassian
crossed to Nesta, the guards stiffening as the Illyrian moved through them as
if they were stalks of wheat in a field. He studied Nesta
for a long moment. She was still glaring at the queens, her eyes lined with
rage and despair, from that fire that burned her so violently from within. When
she finally noticed Cassian, she looked up at him. His voice was
rough as he said, “Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far
from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I
will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this
house—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to
defend those who need it most.” I watched a tear
slide down Nesta’s cheek. And I watched as Cassian reached up a hand to wipe it
I was quote flicking for writing purposes but I think this part is interesting for a reason that…Has never really been talked about. But I think it’s incredibly important that at no point in this scene does Cassian say ‘you’. He does not say ‘I will protect you’ he says that he will protect her house, her people. He will protect what is important to her.
Nesta in this scene implores the queens not to forsake them but instead to help them. She says that there is no way they will all be able to evacuate (’they’ meaning all of the humans beneath the wall. All of them) She asks the queens not to abandon them. Not her and Elain. Not her household. Not her estates. Not even her town. All of them. People. Her people.
And what Cassian says and does that so moves her and is so important to her is not that he will defend her. He doesn’t swear that he’ll be her shield and stand before her and ensure she is protected. He swears to return to war, to stand on a battlefield again, to fight- his kind and hers side by side again as it once was- to defend her people, those who cannot fight for themselves.
And this is…Even more interesting because this is what Nesta does, and has always done, as well.
Nesta would buy Elain time to run. Not my father, whom she
resented with her entire steely heart. Not me, because Nesta had always known
and hated that she and I were two sides of the same coin, and that I could
fight my own battles. But Elain, the flower-grower, the gentle heart … Nesta
would go down swinging for her.
This is really, really early on in ACOTAR but it gets overlooked a lot, I think, and leads to Nesta being misunderstood a lot as well. I’ve meta’d a lot on Nesta and Feyre before and I’ve pointed out that Feyre would probably have either resented Nesta for trying to take over and not letting her do what needed to be done or just been downright baffled for it. Nesta doesn’t bother fighting for Feyre here because she knows Feyre is more than capable of doing that herself. She’ll fight instead for Elain - Elain who can’t fight or defend herself in that way. And we see this again when Nesta goes to the Wall for Feyre because something felt wrong. Something about Tamlin and the lie he sold Feyre didn’t sit right with her and so when her sister actually did need her, Nesta tried to find her. (Which very neatly parallels Feyre warning Nesta of Tomas as well - because there was something wrong there too but that’s another meta)
The point is that Cassian here not only recognises that Nesta does not need anyone to fight her battles for her, and would likely hate them if they tried (this is..a big part of why she and Feyre clash. Nesta resents having to rely on her little sister, she resents Feyre doing this thing that she can’t and looking after her - looking after all of them) and Cassian gets that.
This woman does not need anyone to fight for her or protect her or coddle her. They understand each other He fights for the same reasons and the same kinds of people that she fights for: those who cannot fight themselves.
TL;DR: Cassian does not promise to fight her battles for her. He promises to fight her battles withher.
Prompt: “Why are you looking at me like that” and Poe and OC friends to lovers.
A/N: Give me more Poe. This was so fun to write…best friends to lovers is my fav trope of all time besides love/hate I think!
“You really don’t have to sit here, Poe,” I said, casting the pilot a look from over my shoulder. “You gotta be exhausted.”
He was sitting on an overturned crate, chin propped in one hand as he watched me work. A crooked grin tugged at one side of his mouth. “What? And leave my baby all alone with you?”
I rolled my eyes at his teasing, but as I turned back to his ship, a small smile was on my own lips. “Honestly your “baby” might be better off in my hands than yours. Considering all the pain you’ve caused it.” I shined my light into the fuselage, double checking my work.
Written for an anon from theangst prompt listI reblogged. I’m just trying to rattle through all these to get me writing so this wasn’t planned or beta read I just kind of…threw it at a screen and now it’s here. But I hope you like it.
Title: Dying Embers
Summary: Prompt: ‘Remember when you promised we’d always be together? Because I remember when I thought you meant it.” ACOWAR, after the War but still early in their relationship, the pressures of Nesta’s transformation cripple her relationship with Cassian.
There’s nothing to stop him as he strides past her, yanks open the door, and vanishes out into the swirling snow beyond. Nothing but her. And she says nothing, the words sticking in her tight throat. When she opens the bond to reach him, to try and communicate with him through that no matter how much it will hurt to feel his anger and anguish, she finds that she can’t reach him. He’s shut her out from his side and no amount of screaming and hammering on it will convince him to yield to her.
“Remember when you promised we’d always be together?
Because I remember when I thought you meant it.” Cassian’s voice is cold and
hard as he bites those words out, seconds before she’s stepped through the door
from outside. His words sting far more than the sudden flare of heat contrasted
with the frozen chill outside their house.
On the word ‘promise’ the bond between them
burns, almost angrily, inside her chest, reminding her of that promise. She
opens her mouth to tell him that she has no idea what he’s talking about and
then…The letter he’d been holding when she walked in drops to the table and
she understands. She understands the words, the venom in them. She understands
the way that he’s looking at her, those hazel eyes of his usually so soft and tender
now hard and cold and dark, chips of stone in his face.
The instinct she expects to come, the rising fury she
anticipates to come to her aid, to demand to know what he was doing reading her
personal letters in the first place, berate him on that, start an argument that
has them screaming two different accusations at one another, never listening,
never responding to the other- doesn’t come. It doesn’t even threaten.
anger she had clung to like a crutch all those years in the cottage after her
mother’s death is no more. The rage that had dragged her through this
transformation a year ago and the war that followed is just…gone. Like a
candle snuffed out by a thoughtless breath. It had been the only thing to still
give her light, the only thing to keep her going and now…
The war, the second war, had ended four months ago.
She and Cassian had accepted the mating bond during it. It had been then she
had made her promise, the eve of the first battle they had both taken part in,
that they would always be together. No matter what this war through at them, no
matter what they had to endure they would endure it together, and never be
parted. She hadn’t even made it a year without ruining this for them.
anger still won’t come, the indignation, the desire to spit in his face and
tell him what an idiot he is to ever think that but…But it won’t come.
Without it she feels lost. She had hated it in the cottage, this one wild part
of her that no matter how she had tried she had never been able to tame. Her
will had kept her alive all those years, pulled her through her grief at losing
her mother, at losing everything, had helped her resist High Lord’s magic and
King’s decrees and the Making that had broken her instead had not been enough
to control that fire. She had wanted it leashed, had wanted to be able to
command it and have it obey her and it had refused. At every turn it had
She had never thought that she might some day miss it.
She had never truly considered what might happen if she’d been able to control
it, smother it, silence it. She knows now. The silence that echoes through the
hollows of her desolate self tells her well enough what that anger was keeping
her from becoming. An empty shell, a ghost trapped in this new body, still
breathing, still living but…Dead to all other purposes.
She has never felt so lost, so utterly adrift and
alone. There have been times she should have felt like this, times she should
have and none of them look like this, settled in a home she owns with her mate,
with the man she loves more than any other; more than she’d ever thought
possible. She should be happy here, they have peace, they have a beautiful
home, they have each other. She should be happy and yet….
Cassian waits, staring at her, with an odd expression
on his face she can’t quite read. Not desperation or hope or grief
just…Sadness. Shifting into resignation. He shakes his head, finally dropping
her gaze, and somehow that hurts more than the cutting words and the burning
stare, that absence of anything, and she has an inkling of how he feels.
wings flare slightly behind him in a movement that she’s learned to interpret.
She had been surprised at how much of the Illyrian’s body language was
connected to their wings, though she supposed she shouldn’t have been, it had
been something she’d forced herself to learn to help her read him and
understand him. What he feels now…is trapped. He wants to get out, to fly,
away from this, away from her. He can’t. Not yet. His wings aren’t strong enough
for that but…
There’s nothing to stop him as he strides past her,
yanks open the door, and vanishes out into the swirling snow beyond. Nothing
but her. And she says nothing, the words sticking in her tight throat. When she
opens the bond to reach him, to try and communicate with him through that no
matter how much it will hurt to feel his anger and anguish, she finds that she
can’t reach him. He’s shut her out from his side and no amount of screaming and
hammering on it will convince him to yield to her.
Nesta slides down the wall at her back, crumpling into
a small heap on the floor, unable to summon even the energy to weep.