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easkyrah · 7 years

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Prompt for: "I'm not a stop along the way. I'm a destination." Either Nessian or Elorcan. You'll probably ruin me anyways. Thank you for your fanfictions and making my heart bleed.

—Decided to try something new: a new writing style and one not full of angst. For the former, here’s a Nessian AU of a Cassian x Reader fic.

Y/N: Your Name

“and then she knew, you could be homesick for people too”

I’m not a stop along the way. I’m a destination.

Cassian had been your childhood friend, stuck by your side as soon as you came crying out of the womb. Your mothers had been best friends, attached at the hip as well: they attended the same book club, listened to the same music, and graduated all their classes together. It only made sense that you and Cassian be the same.

While you were in kindergarten, he had been a second grader, boasting that he was no longer considered one of the runts; he had sworn that it was his duty to protect you, pinky promising with a solemn face. While you were in fourth grade, he had graduated to middle school; he had sworn to walk you home, even if he had to trudge through the muddy trails to reach your elementary school. While you were in high school, he had graduated to Illyrian College; he had sworn to take you to prom, the best night of your life.

You applied to Illyrian College, keeping your promise to Cassian. You didn’t even to reassure him—he had your heart. Of course you’d never tell him that.

As months passed and everyone stopped gushing over you and Cass, you didn’t. Little did they all know that your heart belonged to your studies so you would be accepted into the top-tier school on a full-ride scholarship to Illyrian College. Everything you did was to ensure that you would see Cassian again, and be attached to your best friend at the hip again.

In first grade, you’d swapped friendship bracelets, giving him a hot-pink wrap of plastic, Cassian giving you an ugly brown strand to match your eyes, he’d said. You’d cried, an emotional little girl, but he had stroked away those tears with the pads of his thumbs as you inhaled his musky scent of firewood and mint.

Sometimes he’d come back home on breaks, lifting you up in those strong, muscular arms of his, grinning from ear to ear, and dimpling. Binge watching Netflix shows, wrapped in a single blanket on the loveseat couch, you’d fall asleep against his hard chest, content and safe within his embrace that offered warmth and security. He’d carry you to your room, and kiss the top of your forehead. One time you had caught him, and he had denied the entire ordeal, blushing furiously. To shut you up, he had crawled under the sheets next to you, grumbling that the guest room was too far away. He had been your living heating furnace, and when you awoke, you’d be cradled into his arms once again, or the smell of bacon and toast would fill the air. Minutes later, he had entered your room, a tray of steaming breakfast with two cups of orange juice.

You’d swap stories of your senior adventures, and how you had soared above your teachers’ expectations. It seemed like you would be valedictorian, while Cassian had been an All-American athlete in track and field, and wrestling. Sports had been Cassian’s outlet, just as writing had been yours.

Everyone didn’t see why you weren’t dating, and neither did you. Except you had an inkling why: Cassian saw you as nothing more than a younger sister. He was so oblivious to how you had dressed fancifully in a daring sensation just to garner his attention, not the other males at her school. Yet he had taken you to prom, asked you out bachelor style, ordering a white horse and bouquets of red roses. After he had mounted off the mare, he had gotten down on his knees, ruining his pressed slacks.

“I love you,” he whispered into your ear, biting the tip of your earlobe. His hazel eyes had watches shivers wrack across your body, and he’d released you with a satisfied smile, expectantly awaiting your answer.

You had said yes, of course. This was the boy who had tickled you relentlessly and poked fun into your normal, boring life. This was the boy who had been angered when he had found out that you had applied to Hybern College. This was a boy who had ignored you for a week, not answering any of your texts or your calls or voicemails or private messages or emails.

It was during this week that you’d gotten closer to Jurian, who had been hit by a baseball bat during a frat party one of his friends had invited him too. All Jurian remembered was that the aggressor had an Illyrian tattoo and some initials inked over his arm that wove across his shoulder. You’d brought coffee and homemade food to the hospital, where Jurian learned to see through one eye. The bat had smashed through his eye, and later on, during a dare, something had infected his eye.

The infection proved to be deadly, as Jurian thought he had been having a seizure.

You had called Cassian while loitering in the patient’s room.

He had not answered.

You missed him. You missed the boy that uplifted you, kissed your forehead, and made you breakfast. The boy who watched shows with you and provided you with vanilla ice cream when you were feeling low. The boy who helped you choose your professional attire for interviews and forced you to run at least a mile around the track with him on Saturday afternoons.

You had attended every single one of his wrestling matches and his track meets, cheering for him in the sidelines. When he went to the locker room, he’d always meet you in the back, demanding a quick kiss on the cheek for good luck. Every time he came victorious, in first, he said it was because you were his lucky charm, always there for him. And you were.

Except now he wasn’t. He’d taken off the pink bracelet you’d given him ages ago, said it wasn’t manly of him. Said that even though it didn’t bother him, it bothered his friends who jested him on the playing field.

During this week of silence, you decided to apply last-minute for other colleges, not wanting to be caught between this rivalry. You knew Jurian had applied to Hybern, while your heart remained to its’ rival, the Illyrian college harboring the boy you had loved from the earliest haze of your memories. Finally clicking the submit button for your essays, recommendations, and other final pieces, you had leaned back against your seat, soaking in the silence.

Your room had never been so silent, Cassian always jabbering away. He’d once taken in a dog despite your protests, pleading with that own puppy face of his, begging you to attend the dog’s injuries. So you had.

Cassian had named the dog after you, kissing its’ forehead, as the dog eagerly slobbered over him and you. He’d taken the animal to the shelter, gloomily, the next day. One of his friends had quickly adopted it after seeing Cassian apparently mope around the dorms. Cassian had chattered about this friend for weeks, praising the kindness shown.

Your heart ached for the boy who loved so freely, and lived so merrily. Never before had you seen him so angry, demanding that you had betrayed him. When you had mentioned Jurian, he had stormed out. A part of you thought he’d been jealous, but the raw anger and not sheer disappointment radiating from him had you wondering what personal issues caused him to react like that.

He had used to tell you every private detail. Time had changed that, and your childhood friend was drawing away from you. You had apologized in all your messages, saying that if he really wanted you too, you’d phone Hybern, telling the college you wanted to withdraw you application.

He hadn’t answered.

You stopped contacting him.

When the hospital released Jurian, he switched into most of your classes, escorting you around the hallways and sneering at other males who thought they had a chance with you. Although he was a poor substitute for Cassian, but he managed.

Jurian and you had opened your college letters together. He’d been accepted into Hybern college, and so had you— in addition to Illyrian College, with a full ride scholarship academically.

You had fought with yourself to not text Cassian, allowing him the space he needed. Jurian and you had celebrated the night of, drinking and dancing the worries away. He’d attempted to slobber you with a kiss and reached for your hips, but you had slapped him away, imagining a different, dark-haired male.

It was then you knew that Cassian wasn’t just your childhood friend. He was more than a simple girl’s crush, not after had had played such an integral role throughout your life.

You knew you loved him when “home” turned from a place into a person.

But you never talked to him. You never went home.

The week turned into a month, and soon graduation neared. There was the very likely chance that he wouldn’t attend, to see one of the most important moment in your life. Soon, time flew by, and you had pulled on your heels and your graduation cap, forcing yourself to school your features into a smile and hold your head high.

You’d be giving the first and only speech to finish off every senior’s high school career as valedictorian.

You spoke of hope and courage. You hoped to see Cassian here, your eyes eagerly scanning over the mass of people. You hoped you would have the courage to call him later tonight, informing him of your decision to accept Illyrian college’s offer.

You spoke of resilience and fortitude. You hoped that your ages-long friendship with Cassian would be enough to preserve through this silly, petty fight that was entirely one-sided. You hoped that you could capture the fortitude Cassian had illustrated through every match and event as you would click the accept button to the college he attended.

You spoke of strength and family. You hoped that you would be strong enough to text Cassian after months of his absence. You hoped that your entwining memories of laughter and joy would be enough to remain within his circle of family, and perhaps, so much more.

The crowd had erupted into cheers and clapping as soon as you finished. The ceremony had passed quickly, your classmates lifting you up on their shoulders and thundering their voices into the sky as invincible humans, living in the moment of perfect pleasure.

Your mind had wandered to the boy who taught you that it was okay to cry and to scream as long as she got up and did not give up. As you reached for your diplomacy and held the it in your hands, tears had leaked down your face.

A thumb brushed it away.

You looked up, and your heart stuttered.

Your childhood friend, your first and only crush, the male who your heart belonged to.

Cassian.

His love had roared louder than your demons. His friendship had roared louder than your nightmares. His presence had roared louder than depression.

And it had died out, like all things would and do.

He gave you a broad smile, and your mood instantly skyrocketed. He dimpled, telling you he was beyond proud of you. He hugged you, kissing the top of your forehead. A flicker of memory rushed through you, of what once could have been and what once was.

As your own arms wrapped around him, the dark ink of the Illyrian college symbol filled your vision, along with the simple, two words: NA.

You had frowned, wondering how those two words could have meant so deeply to him that he’d get a tattoo. And maybe once, in another dimension, you would have known.

And then your eyes flickered to the female that had silently strayed by his side as he held you, a stormy presence that weathered your mood, beating against the hope building within you.

Your childhood friend had stepped away from you, and embraced the other stony-eyed female in his arms.

“Y/N,” he grinned, happiness radiating from him. “This is Nesta. Nesta Archeron.”

NA.

Nesta Archeron.

And then you knew that this boy was not your childhood friend, but a grown adult who now belonged to another.

And Cassian then had fully kissed the Nesta Archeron on the lips, wrapping his arms around her hips.

And the place where he had kissed your forehead burned, a true betrayal.

Because during that one week, he had met the woman of his dreams, leaving the female of his past. Because during that one week, he had given his smiles and shared his laughter with this tall, beautiful woman. Because during this week, he had kissed her, kissing away the memories of the girl who had given him a pink bracelet that now sat at the bottom of his trash bin, a forgotten reminder.

A barking noise had them almost reluctantly pulling away from each other, and your eyes had widened at the sight of the ever so familiar dog bounding in front of you, ears flopping back.

The female—Nesta—had regarded you with cool eyes, and merely said, “This is my dog, Y/N.”

You had stared accusingly at Cassian, who had sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. He had kissed the top of Nesta’s forehead, and your stomach churned. “Nesta, this is Y/N. The girl I named our dog after.”

Our. You knew that you were no longer Cassian’s support and backbone; maybe you never had been, a little, foolish girl.

Girl. You knew that he didn’t see you the way you saw him, now. That he didn’t even see you as a childhood friend, or even a younger sister. Just a girl.

You had revered Cassian, excitedly recalling your adventures together to your classmates. You had told of him as your hero, your strength, your armor.

Cassian reached for Nesta’s hands, and there, you caught glimpse of a ring.

But not just any ordinary ring.

That was Cassian’s mother’s ring, given to him when she passed away. Where you had soothed and stayed near Cassian’s side until he learned to smile again. You had given him tea and talked with him late at night and made him chocolate chip cookies and forced him to traverse to the gym.

He had once put that ring on your finger, saying it looked pretty.

And now it was on another female’s finger, where it looked gorgeous. And looked like it would stay.

You swallowed, and bit down on your lip.

You had walked away, ice forming around your heart. Jurian had waved you over to his group of friends, a smile on his face. And you had let him wrap an arm around your waist, and pull you in for a hug. You had let him kiss your forehead, hoping that it would wash away the former affection that had been there.

It didn’t.

Your thoughts your graduation night had been filled with dark ink, staining your heart, and circulating the darkness through your veins and blood. You had immediately answered your phone that night, thinking it one of your classmates, Jurian.

“Have you decided where you wanted to go?” A warm and rough familiar voice had flooded you. You could hear another female voice at the other end of the receiver, and Cassian’s chuckle of mischief.

You heard the small laughter from the other end, belonging to the woman who had taken your home, the woman who Cassian had spoken so highly of.

Coldness had swept through you.

You had cleared your throat, and told Cassian you had made your decision. Hybern College.

The other end had went silence for several heartbeats, and Cassian had strangled out a, why?

You had stared at the door, where your childhood friend would have once burst through, demanding an thorough explanation in person.

But he had strayed too far.

You had mustered up your will, and looked out the window instead, where the moonless sky had allowed the darkness to loom and creep.

Cassian had asked why again, the same female voice murmuring in the background. Sound had crackled on the other side, and Cassian’s deep sigh filled the air.

Your finger had hovered over the end call button. You had squared your shoulders, and said loudly and firmly, “Because I’m not a stop along the way. I’m a destination.”

Because he had not stayed for you— hadn’t chosen you.

You hung up, pulling out your laptop, where you opened two tabs. One for Hybern College, and the other for Illyrian College. You had waited the night for Cassian to call again, for him to plea to rethink your decision.

He didn’t.

He didn’t call or reach out in the morning.

And you had a feeling why, when you saw social media filling up with pictures Cassian proposing to someone that was not you.

And you had accepted Hybrern College for your future as soon as the night next had risen, your heart strung along with another’s who had fallen for another.

Nesta Archeron.

#nessian #cassian x reader #tog au #sjm

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