nestavipers

[nestavipers]

doing the @vidalinav thing is so much easier than doing the writing a whole fic thing, so here’s a vague continuation from this valentine’s day snippet

context: in which nesta receives the love she never had from the man she least expected it from

***

What do you want for dinner today? Nesta’s phone buzzes at 5:15 on the dot.

After a brief period of discomfort at Cassian’s daily texts about meals, she’s learned how to respond as easily as if she were giving her restaurant order to a waiter. She’ll never admit it out loud, but his pre-dinner texts have become the highlight of her day. Mostly because she loves having free food provided at her every whim.

At a red light on the way home from work, Nesta types out a quick reply to Cassian: Carbs. Every kind of carb. Had a rough day.

Whatever awkwardness Nesta feels at sharing an apartment with her ex-not-boyfriend is outweighed by the fact that he cooks and cleans for free. Nesta has no business harboring resentment at someone who makes a killer filet mignon and does the dishes afterward, so she treats Cassian with casual friendliness instead. As if he’s a stranger she picked up off the street and offered to let live with her.

A new start, Cassian called it.

Nesta is surprisingly okay with this. She hasn’t at all forgotten the ancient, unhealed wounds that lie between her and Cassian, but…she’s more than willing to let go of the memories and the pain. She knows better now, and that’s the only comfort she needs.

When she gets home, she’s greeted by the smell of rose oil instead of the smell of cooking.

From the hallway leading away from the living area and kitchen, Cassian pokes his head out of the bathroom door, his hazel eyes searching the apartment until they land on Nesta at the entryway. A small smile makes his eyes crinkle up at the sight of her, but the look quickly turns apologetic as he says, “Change of plans. I didn’t want to make you wait for home-cooked food, so I ordered takeout.”

“Okay,” she says slowly, setting her purse and coat down. A bit of a disappointment, but she’s relieved not to have to wait for dinner. She’s starved after skipping lunch today. “What are you doing in the bathroom?”

“I had free time since I wasn’t cooking and I drew up a hot bath for you.” He waves her over to the hallway, and Nesta warily pads over to their shared bathroom. A blast of steamy air infused with roses hits her at the door.

Nesta never gapes, but what she’s doing now is dangerously close to gaping. “What is this for?”

“You said you had a hard day,” Cassian says. He shoves her lightly toward the fresh bath overflowing with bubbles. “Get undressed. I’ll make bread rolls while we wait for the food.”

Nesta stumbles into the bathroom and Cassian half-shuts the door for privacy as he leaves.

Too stunned to do much other than follow Cassian’s instructions, she slips out of her dress and stockings and cautiously approaches the bath. Dipping a toe in, she has to repress a full-bodied shudder at the perfect warmth of the water. The smell of bath salts and essential oils invades her nose and runs all the way down to her last frayed nerves, soothing away the stresses of the day.

Nesta makes quick work of climbing into the tub and fully submerging under the water. She doesn’t know how long she’s in there for, playing with the bubbles and swirling the water around, when a knock sounds and Cassian reappears at the doorway. “Got the rolls in the oven.”

Nesta’s ears perk up at that. She fucking loves his bread rolls.

“Can I?” Cassian gestures to the tub, one foot hovering over the bathroom threshold in hesitation.

Nesta has no idea what he means or what he wants, but the tub is high enough to cover her up to her neck, so she lets him approach her with a careful nod. She watches him out of the corner of her eye as he wanders in and takes a seat on the low stool beside the tub, but her body remains oddly relaxed at his presence. Even if this situation is weird and unexpected, being with Cassian these last several weeks has become almost as easy as being with Gwyn or Emerie— just two friends content to share each other’s company, with familiarity and comfort taking the place of tension.

“Wanna talk about your day?” Cassian offers.

The question eases the cautiousness slinking around Nesta’s body like a cat. She huffs, “Don’t get me started,” before kicking one leg up onto the rim of the tub, then the other. “I’m dealing with the worst case right now.” Just thinking about her current client makes her feel heavy; she reminds Nesta so much of her younger self.

“I can tell,” he chuckles in a low tone. “It’s all over you.”

“Thanks so much,” she drawls.

Cassian scoots his stool over so he’s positioned right behind Nesta and asks smoothly, “Can I? You look like you need it.”

Before she can think on it, Nesta nods. She doesn’t even realize what she’s nodding to until Cassian’s broad hands come down on her shoulders and squeeze firmly. Her breath catches in her throat and her spine straightens.

“Relax,” he orders in a gentle tone she’s never heard before these last few months. “You’ll make new knots before I get these ones out.” He emphasizes one knot in her back by digging his thumb into her shoulder blade.

Nesta presses her lips together until they turn white—not at the pain in her too-tense muscles, but at the utter shock that Cassian is giving her a shoulder massage. In a bath that he drew for her.

A thousand questions and concerns spring to her mind. Cassian rubs into a spot near the top of her spine that has her head falling forward onto her chest, and she breathes the deep scent of roses and pomegranate seed into her lungs. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice comes out in a croak she doesn’t intend.

She thinks he’ll play dumb, but he thinks over his answer as he massages her shoulders instead. “I just felt bad that you were feeling bad,” he eventually says.

That answers nothing for Nesta. Is he overcompensating for all the shit that happened between them in the past? Has he been feeling more guilty than usual lately, and this is his way of apologizing? Or—Nesta feels the old slither of distrust snake through her bones—he’s doing all this to manipulate her back into his bed before he hurts her yet again. He’s trying to gain her trust before twisting it into a weapon for his own use.

No—even if that were true, Nesta knows better now. She’ll never fall for that trap again, whether Cassian tries to seduce her or not.

She bites back a groan as Cassian works out a particularly tough knot between her shoulder blades, refusing to make a sound while she stews over these thoughts in the bath.

“You should let others take care of you more,” Cassian says when she doesn’t respond to him. “Even after all these years, you still carry too much by yourself.”

Tears prick Nesta’s eyes at his words. No one’s ever said that about her. No one’s ever done this for her, period, and even if it’s fake, it’s nice to experience.

She takes a decidedly stupid risk and decides to be honest to Cassian in return.

“You’ve changed,” she admits, twisting her head to look him in the eyes. “You’re so much… easier to talk to now. You’re a lot calmer when you have no one to answer to.”

Everything was always so tense between them in their past relationship, and not always in a good way. It was a relationship between her and him and five other people—his friends and family. Nesta always had her back stiffened and chin tilted in defense of an incoming attack, in case Cassian or one of his loved ones decided they wanted to pick a fight on whatever given day. It was an exhausting way to be in love.

“So I’m less of a volatile asshole, is what you’re saying?” Cassian says, his own eyes soft and teasing and…mournful.

Nesta turns back around, facing away from him. “Among other things, yes.”

A moment passes before he continues rubbing her neck. “Thank you,” he finally murmurs. “I really am doing my best.”

“That’s good to hear,” Nesta murmurs half-heartedly. She honestly isn’t paying much attention to the conversation anymore, because his hands feel so good on her back and the water is so warm and she feels so sleepy.

Her guard drops, and when Cassian runs a firm hand up her spine that lands at the base of her skull and squeezes, she lets an embarrassing sound of pleasure escape her.

She stiffens at the same time that she hears Cassian inhale a sharp breath behind her. All of a sudden, cold air replaces where his hands were massaging her skin. “I should go,” Cassian fumbles a bit breathlessly, knocking the stool back as he gets up. “I’m sorry, this was inappropriate.”

Before Nesta can even comprehend what just happened, Cassian is out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him in a hurry.

***

@rarephloxes

@moodymelanist

@arinbelle

@sayosdreams

@bridgertononmymind

@live-the-fangirl-life

@a-court-of-valkyries

@secretlovelybeauty

@humanexile

@helion-ism

@my-fan-side

@royaltykxx

@xoblivisci

@planet-faerie

@katekatpattywack

@imagine-me

@meridainthedisneyland

@jungtaekwoonie-is-life

@rainbowcheetah512

@valkyriewarriors

@loosingdreams

@chosenfamily-valkyriequeens

@perseusannabeth

@swankii-art-teacher

@laylaameer01

@angelic-voice-1997

@awesomelena555

@claralady

@ghostlyrose2

@thewayshedreamed

@drielecarla

@superspiritfestival

@aliveahaahahafuck

@thebluemartini

@nessiantho

@missing-merlin

@duskandstarlight

@lucy617

@sleeping-and-books

@cassianscool

@wannawriteyouabook

@everything-that-i-love

#I’m not actually here I just had to reblog this masterpiece #nessian #fic

[nestavipers]

We're gonna call the angst in the next book, Ruhn's adjustment period.

#it's been like a week and i'm still completely obsessed with them #ruhnlidia #crescent city #hosab

[nestavipers]

The Fuck-You Games — Ruhnlidia fic (Modern AU)

Summary: To say Ruhn and Lidia don’t get along would be the understatement of the century. After what he did to her sister, Lidia promised herself she wouldn’t touch Lunathion’s biggest, most arrogant asshole with a ten-foot pole. And judging by his constant irritable comments, it’s safe to assume that he feels the same way about her. So when her possessive, idiot ex comes back into the picture, Ruhn Danaan is the last person she expects to come to the rescue. And it pisses her off.

Read on AO3 here (Chapter 1)

Ruhnlidia 😩 Ugh!!! They own my heart!!!

It’s my first time writing about this ship (duh), so I hope you enjoy it. I’m still working on this fic, hence why I don’t know how many chapters it’ll have yet. I’m going to update it every other day until I’ve finished writing it—then I’ll update daily. So expect the next chapter on Wednesday at around this time ☺️

That being said, happy reading! Comments and kudos are highly appreciated 💖

#IT BEGINS!!!! #I haven’t even read this yet but I know it’ll be amazing #ruhnlidia #hosab spoilers #crescent city #fic

[nestavipers]

people who arent scared of publishing fic just to get ten notes PLEASE write ruhnlidia fics!! 😭

#I am desperate for fic this is the best news 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 #hosab spoilers #ruhn #crescent city

[nestavipers]

this is only a prompt if you decide it is BUT:::

AF au and it is lucien kissing elain in the midst of her mean girl rant and she’s all flushed with anger and furrowed brows and pointing fingers until her grabs her hands and kisses her and shes goes embarrassingly silly and wobbly kneed and loses her train of thought very fast but still cannot be bothered to be mad at him enough to stop kissing him and it is just so unfair and honestly a bit scary he gets to do things like that to her 🤪

i've been sitting on this ask for months and i got wayyyyy carried away this. a little NSFW

***

Their relationship begins the same way it will inevitably end: with a fight.

A fight that poor Lucien isn't aware is going to happen yet. Elain's silence is calculated as she stands before her bathroom vanity, removing pins from her golden brown hair one by one. Through the doorway, she can see Lucien taking in her tiny bedroom for the first time. Like he's afraid of disturbing a single dust particle in the room, he carefully lays his suit jacket at the foot of her bed.

Growing irritated at his lack of words, Elain decides to break the silence herself. “You just had to embarrass yourself and your family on that yacht, didn't you?"

Russet eyes flash to her in disbelief, Lucien looking surprised by the sudden topic of conversation. "Excuse me?" he says.

"The panting, desperate dog act is almost cute when it's just with me, but in public..." Elain drops the last bobby pin onto the sink counter and shakes her head in disappointment. Her hair flows around her shoulders with the movement.

“Are you…mad at me for trying to protect you back there?” he says, incredulous.

Elain is mad for a number of reasons, still simmering from what took place hours ago on that boat. All six of Lucien's brothers and his father had been there, and it was Elain's first time being with more than three Vanserras at once.

They were the most horrible people she's ever met—and that's coming from Elain, who grew up with a family too dysfunctional for words. As soon as they laid eyes on Lucien standing too close to Elain, leaning in and chatting too comfortably with her, they descended on her like a pack of wolves. Eris, her former crush and now absolute shithead, included.

"Now who, is, this?" Aldritch Vanserra approached Elain and Lucien mid-conversation, putting a stupid emphasis between each word like a villain in a cartoon movie.

Elain only raised her delicate brows at him in innocent puzzlement. "We've met before, Aldritch. I was at the end-of-summer party at your house, remember?"

At the blank look on the oldest Vanserra brother's face, she added, "I volunteer at the local women's shelter with your mom? She introduced us to each other?"

"He doesn't remember," Lucien snapped at her. "Let it go."

Like sharks catching a whiff of fresh blood, it wasn't long before the rest of Lucien's brothers joined their group one by one: Garrett, Lyon, Bastien, Killian, and finally Eris.

“Little Lucien’s finally found himself a girlfriend,” one of them drawled.

Another one, Killian, clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock disappointment. “You think this one will last?”

“I’d give it six weeks.” Eris. “She’s too pretty for him.”

“Not too pretty for me,” Bastien took a step closer to Elain, close enough to make her stiffen in discomfort. But Elain kept her unassuming face on, a little blank in the eyes and bland in the smile. After all, as her mother would say, when would she ever get the chance again to have this many men’s attention on her at once?

“A little too whorish, then,” Eris said. Elain’s mouth actually dropped at that, though she quickly snapped it shut. This was the same man she’d had a huge crush on just some weeks ago?

Eris had the nerve to actually offer Elain an excusatory look. “Not in a bad way, doll. It’s just that Lucien over here is something of a prude. It would never work out.”

Beside her, Lucien didn’t move or say anything.

“Again,” Bastien interrupted, and Elain could hear the tinge of alcohol in his words, “not too whorish for me.” Snickers went up all around the little circle of brown- and red-haired men, and for the first time all day Elain wanted to slink into her pashmina and never come out.

As for Lucien… Elain dared a glance over to him. His face remained uncomfortably blank, but his jaw worked as if he was gathering up the nerve to tell his shithead brothers off for good. Elain hadn’t expected Lucien to be so passive in the face of such clear insults toward him, toward her, but her heart softened as she realized—he was probably used to being outnumbered like this. It had never been said aloud, but anyone with eyes could see that Lucien was the black sheep of the family.

She would have to be his ally, then.

“How… comedic you boys are,” Elain said pleasantly. She slipped her hand around Lucien's, wanting to support and fortify him. They were a team, she wanted to say. But just as fast as she took his hand, Lucien dropped it and took a subtle step away from her. Shock and hurt wound through Elain as Lucien shrugged and told their audience, "What can I do if I'm the favorite brother for once?" His eyes lazily slid to Elain as he added, "Unfortunately for all of you shits, we're just friends. She's not my type."

He was too convincing. Too bored, too casual as he said it, and it was all the brothers needed to lose interest and back off. A new voice spoke up then and said, "Good."

Elain and Lucien both turned to find Beron Vanserra nursing a glass of whiskey, having been listening in to the conversation from the fringes. "No son of mine is going to be caught with trailer trash on his arm. Lucien's already learned his lesson about that, hasn't he?" His gaze went from threatening to charming as it moved from Lucien to Elain, and he smiled almost apologetically at her. "No offense, Miss Archeron. You've been a joy to have around these last few weeks." The gleam in his eye told her no matter how much time she spent hanging around the Vanserras, flaunting her newborn connections with Rhysand and the higherups at Night Court Inc., she would never be accepted as one of them. She would never have a chance at touching one of his precious sons.

Lucien tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at his father, one of the strands that'd fallen out of his ponytail sliding across his forehead. “Take that back,” he ordered, actually ordered his father.

Beron's face darkened as he eyed Lucien. "Excuse me?"

“Apologize to her. Now.”

Elain's heart leapt into her throat. "I'm alright," she tried to say, but trailed off when neither man turned to her. Lucien had the ember of a rage she'd never seen before in his eye, and it honestly frightened and thrilled her a little.

“I didn’t know she was yours to apologize to.” Beron lifted his chin at Lucien and looked down his nose at him with a disgust that Elain hadn't known fathers could have for their children. “Go on, son. Claim her if she’s yours.”

It was a challenge, a dare. Elain watched the whole exchange with bated breath, as she was sure several guests were also doing, wondering what Lucien's next move would be. But Lucien saw that dare and only took a slow step back, shaking his head in disdain. That ember in his eyes dimmed until it extinguished completely. Like none of it was worth it. Like she wasn’t worth it.

“Let’s go,” he said lowly to Elain, placing a hand at her back and steering them both toward the ramp leading off the boat. The party was clearly over for them, yet all Elain could feel as she left was his touch that remained distant and cold on her middle back.

Being called trash by a man she believed had liked her hurt. Being harrassed by Lucien's brothers hurt. But all of that would have been tolerable if Lucien hadn't let go of her hand. For all his promises, he was so quick to let go of her.

"Why would I be mad?” Elain lies as she takes out her earrings, carefully replacing the backings and placing them into her jewelry box.

"Well, I'm sure being called a whore and trash within minutes of each other couldn't have been fun," Lucien retorts, ever the genius.

“Oh, did you notice that too?” she chirps.

Lucien sighs through the bathroom doorway. “I warned you that a family event was the last place you’d want to be.”

“Your family isn’t the problem here.” Elain wraps her fingers around the sink edge in an attempt to appear calm, throwing a cool look over her shoulder toward Lucien. “The problem is you. It’s been you this whole time.”

Lucien goes carefully still at that. “What did I do now?” he says.

Elain’s facade crumbles at his ignorance, and the next thing she knows she’s storming into the bedroom and jabbing a finger at him in accusation and anger. “You have been nothing but a waste of my time since I first met you,” she hisses. “That’s what you did.”

“Don’t point your finger at me,” he threatens in a low voice.

"Oh, Elain, I love you, I'm gonna marry you, you're mine." She throws his words back in his face, laced with acid cruelty. His face burns with humiliation, a look that both satisfies Elain and enrages her further. She should be the humiliated one for how wrong she was about him. "Fucking liar," she spits, pointing again just to piss him off.

"Is that why you're upset?" Lucien takes a dangerous step closer to her. "You're upset I wouldn't lay a claim on you in front of my whole family?"

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re losing your Tennessee accent.”

“I’m NOT UPSET!”

Lucien chooses that moment to snatch both her hands out of the air and tug her mouth to his.

Everything pauses for half a second, Elain’s eyes blown wide with shock. And then she realizes that this is their first kiss, that Lucien’s lips are waiting for a response from hers, and she utterly melts. By the end of the half second, she’s standing on her tiptoes with her arms flung around his neck, kissing him back with a fervor that neither she nor Lucien expected.

Her three a.m. fantasy of the last few weeks becoming reality, all the ignored and neglected tension from the moment they met—Elain moans her relief into the kiss. How romantic, she thinks.

Lucien lets go of her hands to grip the sides of her face. “Listen here, dove,” he says into her mouth. “My family doesn’t get to fucking touch you. They don’t even get to fucking look at you.”

Elain’s stomach does a rollercoaster-worthy flip at the words, and flips again when Lucien finds the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it down with one tug. The lilac fabric spills down her shoulders and chest, revealing her bare breasts and stomach. Another precise tug from Lucien and the whole thing drops to a heap at her feet, and then she’s being shoved against a wall with Lucien’s thigh pressed between her legs.

But just because they’re kissing doesn’t mean they’re done fighting. “They seemed to be looking at me pretty damn thoroughly today,” Elain rasps as Lucien’s hot mouth goes for the most sensitive skin at her neck.

Only half the buttons on Lucien's shirt are undone at this point, Elain not even remembering how they ended up that way, but she gets so frustrated with the lack of skin she has access to that she simply fists each side of his shirt and tears it open the rest of the way, ripping some buttons off as she goes. With newfound eagerness, she presses her naked chest to Lucien's and drags him into another dizzying kiss before he can respond to her.

Lucien breaks away too early, panting with his forehead pressed against Elain’s. “I'm sorry about today," he says roughly. "It was my fault—for being too close with you. I should have protected you better."

Elain furrows her brow, confused and yes, still hurt. “I didn't want you to protect me. I wanted you to stand by me."

He shakes his head quickly, and genuine fear laces his next words. "I don't want them to know. It never ends well when they know."

“It’s happened before?” Elain can’t believe they’re talking about this while their bare chests heave against each other, but jealousy at the thought of Lucien having someone before her sparks in her gut.

Lucien only shakes his head dismissively. “These aren’t people that you can play nice with, Elain. And you can’t play rough either.”

“Then how do you survive it?” she retorts.

“By pretending I don’t exist around them.” Like how he pretended not to care for her today.

Pity blooms in Elain’s heart at that, that he was conditioned to act this way after a lifetime of neglect. But she still disagrees with Lucien. He’s focusing on the wrong problem before him.

Taking his face in a much more gentle way than how they first started, she commands, “Lucien.” His name flows like honey off her tongue. “Stop worrying about your family and start worrying about me. I won’t do a secret relationship, and I can’t be abandoned in the lion’s den again like that. Can you do that for me?”

Of course, she's already got him hooked and baited. He would do anything for her, confirmed by how he closes his eyes and nods slowly, his nose rubbing against hers. “I can do that.”

Elain's stomach finally settles, and she smiles a sweet, reassuring smile. "Good," she whispers, and gently brings his mouth down for another kiss. This one is soft enough to make Lucien shudder, and his hands slip up her shoulderblades as he readjusts so his hips are pressed more thoroughly between her legs. The air between them pierced with a much less volatile but much more tender emotion now, they slowly continue the process of exploring each other.

Elain peeks open an eye mid-kiss so she can watch as she pushes his shirt off the rest of the way to the floor, revealing the tan toned muscles of his biceps and forearms. She actually makes a pleased noise of surprise into the kiss at the sight of it. He’s been hiding from her this whole time in designer jackets and sweaters. She’s going to have to burn all his long-sleeved shirts after this.

Becoming greedy for more, Elain's hands drop to the front of Lucien's pants, making quick work of the button and zipper there. Before she can slide her hand in and cop a feel, though, Lucien snatches her wrists up, repinning her to the wall with his hips. A choked sound leaves her at this precise new angle, where she can feel exactly how hard and ready he is and he can probably feel her throbbing through the layers of remaining fabric between them.

Lucien is the first to change up the rhythm, his kisses becoming less patient and more desperate, hungry. A low moan leaves him and rumbles down her throat, and Elain is so glad they're on the same page for once. She rises onto her tiptoes so she can meet the roll of his hips thrust for thrust, and nearly keens when he hitches one of her thighs beneath an arm so they can get even closer.

Bracing his other hand against the wall by her ribs, Lucien ducks his head down to leave open-mouthed kisses across her chest. "You know, Elain," he groans over a small breast. "You just might end up being worth more than all of this."

“More than what?” she pants, watching him suck a flushed nipple into his mouth, feeling him flick his tongue against the flesh. His shoulders might tremble beneath her hands at the taste of her.

Instead of answering her question, Lucien sweeps her up into another heady kiss.

Thoughts are near impossible to form at this point, but somehow Elain goes so far as to form words. "I know you hate your father," she gasps between kisses, "and I hate him too." She bucks her hips up against his groin, searching for friction while she speaks. "But I'm going to make him love me if it's the last thing I do."

Like hell would that nasty old man get away with calling her trailer trash—nor would the Vanserra brothers get away with seeing her as a toy to be played with. Before she inevitably leaves Lucien, she’ll have to become one of them. No, become better than them.

Lucien clasps her jaw with one hand and presses her head back against the wall, his other hand searching along the inside of her thigh for the line of her panties. "Is this really what you want to be talking about right before I fuck you for the first time?" he grits out.

‘The first time’ indicating that there'll be several more times, a thought that makes Elain smile despite herself. Just for now, she almost—almost— wants to stay like this with him forever.

“Just wanted to get it out of the way—” She gasps as his fingers finally find the crotch of her underwear and push the soaked fabric aside. "I'm going to charm the shitty personality and old money right out of him, until you don't have to worry about protecting me anymore."

He chuckles darkly against her collarbone and slides two fingers along her slick skin, teasing until the last possible moment. "You fucking gold digger."

And whatever he does next with his hand must make Elain unravel completely, because she drops her head to his bare chest and pants, "Only for you. Only for you."

***

im at work so i couldnt finish editing the smutty parts sorry 😬

tags:

@rarephloxes

@moodymelanist

@arinbelle

@sayosdreams

@bridgertononmymind

@live-the-fangirl-life

@a-court-of-valkyries

@secretlovelybeauty

@humanexile

@helion-ism

@my-fan-side

@royaltykxx

@xoblivisci

@planet-faerie

@katekatpattywack

@imagine-me

@meridainthedisneyland

@jungtaekwoonie-is-life

@rainbowcheetah512

@valkyriewarriors

@loosingdreams

@chosenfamily-valkyriequeens

@perseusannabeth

@skychild29

@swankii-art-teacher

@a11yswift

@aightimmaheadoutsblog

@azrielbedara

@champanheandluxxury

@pixieelea

@theoverlyenthusiasticwriter

@teagoddess99

@seashade

@amandlas

#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 #elucien #fic

[nestavipers]

“I don’t think I’d have made it this far without my friends. Or my sister.”

RUHN IS MY PRECIOUS EMO GOTH GAMER BOY THAT DESERVES THE WORLD, BUT THE WORLD DOESN'T DESERVE HIM

#don’t mind me just out here stanning this one character with my whole heart #ruhn #hosab #crescent city

[nestavipers]

I feel like Ruhn Danaan is one of the best characters Sarah's ever written.

We stan Lucien Vanserra and Ruhn Danaan in this house.

#I’ve been so MIA because I’ve been terrified of spoilers #but I FINALLY finished hosab and I am still recovering #Ruhn is my number one sjm verse boy though like #a+ will Stan forever #crescent city #hosab

[nestavipers]

Winter Olympics snippet 4: in which Cassian finally gets a bit of a personality

Nesta looked up when a heavy weight fell on her shoulders. Thick and warm and smelling of an all too familiar, expensive Italian cologne. “I’m surprised a Canadian is shivering so much .”

Nesta considered throwing the jacket to the ground, but she was cold, and it was large enough to zip up even over her own. “I grew up in a winery town on the West Coast. Pretty much on the US border. It doesn’t snow there.”

“Ah,” Cassian leaned over the railing beside her. Not asking why she was outside of the event space if she was so cold. Maybe he knew what it was like to feel alone in a crowd of thousands. Or maybe he’d followed her. Probably that one. “The Okanagan, yes?”

Nesta looked up in surprise. She was usually impressed if someone could name a single Canadian province, let alone a highly specific region. His pronunciation was off, slightly too soft in his lilting Italian accent, but… still. “How did you… did you wiki me?”

“Yes,” he admitted unashamedly. “But that is not how I know the area. I also grew up in a little winery town. And… well, we all want what we can’t have.” His lips pulled up into a small smirk.

“By that I have to assume that you mean you became interested in new world winery destinations because the old world ones were so easily accessible to you.”

“Sure,” he shrugged one shoulder. “Let’s both pretend that is what I mean.”

“How are you not cold?” Nesta asked, turning to him with a suspicious eye. Since taking his jacket off, Cassian wore nothing but a light black shell. Tight enough to show off far more expertly cut muscles than a snowboarder had a right to possess.

“I make my life in the snow and mountains, Bella. It would be a problem if cold bothered me.”

“I wasn’t aware it snowed all that much in Italy.”

“You do know that we share a border with Switzerland?”

“Right,” she shook her head. “Of course. I have to admit, when I think of Italy… I think of The west coast. Sicily and Sardinia. Beaches and the Mediterranean sea and too strong Sangria”

“Not Milan?” He looked her over with something new in his gaze. Nesta wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she knew it wasn’t good. “Not fashion and museums and glittering palazzos?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I don’t like… crowded places. Big cities.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. Then cracked a teasing grin, “But Wikipedia tells me you live in the biggest city in Canada.”

Nesta looked up. She caught his eyes easily, because they were already trained on her. “You have to move to Toronto if you want to train for the Olympics in Canada. Plus it’s a good university-“

“What do you study?”

“You have a lot of questions.”

“I find you…” he paused, slowly tilted his head to one side, “intriguing.”

“How unfortunate for you.”

“Why?”

“Yet another question.”

“Will you answer if I offer you a question in return?”

Nesta sighed, slipped the coat off of her shoulders, and pressed it back into his hands. “No. Because I’m not interested in a village hookup.”

Cassian covered her hand in his for a moment as he retook his jacket. “Neither am I, Bella.”

#truly BlessedTM with the fic snippets today :’) #fic #I NEED THE REST OF THIS PLEASE

[nestavipers]

“I mean, will it be chilly, will it be hot, who can tell?” Elain goes on.

“The weather app can,” Nesta answers.

“Ha ha.” Elain is not amused. She always overestimates the amount of patience it takes to hold a conversation with her sister. “Seriously, what do I pack?” She needs to know which strappy dress to strangle herself with as everyone celebrates Nesta and Cassian’s impending marriage.

#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 #me coming out of tumblr hibernation just to reblog this #Truly I Cannot Wait #fic

[nestavipers]

Okay so I've been thinking about the Valkyrie friendship between Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn. I'm adding a trigger warning for mentions of sexual assault.

I know it's weirdly popular to dunk on these characters but these three are the literary equivalent of confiding in your friends you were sexually assaulted after years of agonizing that you were the only person this happened to....

...only for the room to get quiet and all your friends to confess it's happened to them too. I don't think it's an accident every person I met my undergrad year of college, every person I became close friends with, experienced the same thing I did. And you can argue that this is too common and that's why but, like Gwyn and Nesta and Emerie, who is talking about it? Did your friends even know after it happened? Or did you keep it a tight secret terrified people might not like you or believe you or think you're a bad person?

Maybe everyone knew it happened, like Emerie with her clipped wings and maybe some people guessed, like Gwyn in the library, or maybe you just swallowed it and tried to forget, like Nesta with Tomas. The experiences are different but somehow the same, an induction into a club you never once asked to join but pay membership dues to all the same.

And I'm tired of people talking shit "they won the blood rite after only six months of training" when Feyre killed a massive, supernatural worm, underfed and with no magical ability in squelching, miserable mud and Elain stabbed the King of Hybern, effectively killing him with no training or skill when even the most powerful High Lord in history could not. Believable, these acts of individual heroism but three women take on the same patriarchal structures that have been harming them TOGETHER, climb the mountain, a metaphor for all they've overcome both individually and collectively, and suddenly we care about realism. Suddenly they never should have been able to do it, survive against the sexual, too-gendered violence that has been harming them their whole lives.

The opening message in ACOSF is "for every Nesta, climb that mountain" what mountain do you think she's talking about? You climb it every day you decide you're going to wake up even when you don't want to, when you text your friend "can I tell you something?" when you check in on each other just to make sure everyone is as okay as they can be.

The best part of ACOSF was Nesta learning she could trust people not to hurt her. She could trust people with her secrets. That people loved her at her worst

#i've been MIA for like a week because life has Decided To Be Dramatic AF lately #but i agree with this wholeheartedly #meta #the valykries #acosf

[nestavipers]

you can only pick two tog &/or acotar men, who are you choosing?

#abraxos and Lucien

[nestavipers]

milf (man i’d like to find a therapist for)

#me @ Azriel

[nestavipers]

First 5 Lines Between Hunt x Bryce

ABOUT DAMN TIME

#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 #FINALLY WE ARE GETTING SOME PROMO CONTENT #crescent city

[nestavipers]

What am I doing today? Oh just thinking about that time Lucien tied his hair back, rolled up his sleeves and pants legs, waded into a stream and caught fish with his bare hands. You?

[nestavipers]

The Valkyries

art: kelly.vieir.a [instagram]

#fave ladies #fan art #valkyries

[nestavipers]

“You’re lying,” Helion whispered, turning his back to Eris so he could take a breath. Eris barked a cold laugh.

“Ah, yes, in my free time I accuse the High Lords of fathering children with my mother. I accused Tarquin of participating in Conall’s birth. I think the resemblance is—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Helion snarled.

#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

[nestavipers]

A Favor: Postscript [One]

Fic Masterlist

a/n: sorry to my elucien and gwynriel fics but these two just come so easily to me

***

Washington State, June

Nesta smacks her arm just as an errant mosquito lands on it and grimaces at the insect guts now smeared across her palm. Looking around for someplace sanitary to wipe her hand off, she can only find the back of her fiance’s cargo shorts.

“What the hell!” Cassian jumps at Nesta rubbing her hand over his ass. He sees her and gives a sigh of relief. “I thought you were a forest creature.”

“For the last time, Cassian, no forest creature is going to try to eat your pants,” Nesta says, already reaching for the bottle of hand sanitizer clipped to her hiking pack. The air up here is humid and stuffy, making Nesta’s ponytail stick to the back of her neck with sweat. Every inch of her being itches to the bone, and she feels like she’s been smeared all over with dirt and germs, and she doesn’t know what she did to deserve this special trial run of hell that is hiking in the forests of the PNW.

“You know about that time that deer almost got my ass. You know how I feel about woodland animals,” Cassian says.

“It can’t be Bambi’s fault you have a yummy butt,” Nesta snaps back. Even when she’s hot and irritable, she can’t really be harsh with Cassian. It’s something she’s getting progressively worse at doing lately, but she blames it on the high of being newly engaged.

Just as she dreaded, Cassian grins and throws a heavy arm around her shoulder as they walk. “You think I have a yummy butt?”

“How much longer until we reach the viewpoint?” It’s been nothing but trees for the past two hours. Gorgeous, towering, Edward Cullen-esque trees, sure, but enough of them that Nesta is beginning to fear that she’ll never get out of here.

“Be honest,” Cassian says, ignoring her question. “If you were a deer, would you eat my butt?”

Nesta holds in a deep sigh. She knows Cassian is doing his best to keep her present and having fun, but right now there are absolutely zero things fun about hiking uphill through the woods. In summer. She would never say it to Cassian, but she misses their air-conditioned Colorado cabin more than anything.

As if sensing her mood teetering, Cassian drops the grin and leans in until his forehead is pressed to her hair. “There’s a bridge coming up in about five minutes. Half an hour after that, we’ll be at our destination.”

Nesta releases a breath. “Thank god.”

Other hiking groups trail behind and ahead of them, but they’re far enough away that Nesta doesn’t mind leaning into Cassian’s hold, pretending it’s only the two of them lost in the middle of nowhere.

She doesn’t know what exactly she had in mind when Cassian said bridge, but the bridge that appears in front of them a few minutes later is…definitely not it. Her pace slows as they approach the rickety thing, just planks of wood tied together by rope stretched across a clear creek that runs dozens of feet below them.

“I’m not crossing that,” Nesta says.

“It’s the only way to the viewpoint,” Cassian replies. Hikers all around them are taking turns crossing the wooden deathtrap, stopping here and there to take selfies as they go. “It’s a popular trail in a state park, Nes. It’s a hundred percent safe.”

Nesta doesn’t hear a word he says. “Over my dead body will I step foot on that bridge.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do.”

Cassian sighs aloud and looks down at his feet, as if thinking over a difficult decision. Then he nods to himself and slings his hiking pack off his shoulders, taking out his water bottle before placing the pack against a nearby pine tree. “Okay, let’s do this.” He gestures Nesta over to him.

“What are you do—” Nesta’s words turn into an indignant yelp when Cassian wraps his hands around her thighs and hauls her onto his back piggyback style.

Why does this always happen when they’re in the woods together? “Cassian, put me down,” Nesta orders, her tone sharp and demanding even as she clings to Cassian’s sleeveless shirt for life.

“Over my dead body,” he mocks, walking them over to the wooden bridge. He has his water bottle in one hand and is holding onto Nesta with the other, although she’s doing a great enough job herself of refusing to let go now that they’re at the first wooden plank.

“You can’t just leave your pack behind,” Nesta says, still trying to talk him out of this. “What if someone steals it, or a bear gets hold of it?”

“Now who’s having irrational thoughts about woodland creatures?” Cassian steps onto the bridge, letting go of Nesta’s thigh so he can grasp the tough fibers of rope railing on one side.

Her legs squeeze around his torso impossibly tighter, and the bridge actually sways. Side to side, like in some fucking Indiana Jones movie.

“There’s no way this is architecturally sound,” Nesta hisses into Cassian’s ear. “Is it even legal?”

“You’re gonna miss the view if you keep going on about architecture, baby.”

Nesta knows this, and she doesn’t care. She just takes the water bottle from Cassian’s grip and closes her eyes against his neck. “Use both hands when you walk. Tell me when it’s over.”

What feels like a hundred-foot-long bridge turns out in the end to only be about fifteen. With Cassian’s longer legs, he crosses it in just a few strides with a careless bravery that makes Nesta jealous. Cassian can face anything, it seems, except deer that get too close to his pants.

Nesta opens her eyes as soon as she feels the ground stabilize beneath her again, looking down to find sweet solid dirt beneath Cassian’s feet. That wasn’t so bad.

She expects Cassian to put her down and go back across the bridge for his hiking pack, but he surprises her by hitching her higher onto his back and continuing along the trail covered in fallen pine leaves and wayward twigs.

“Aren’t you going to put me down?” Nesta asks awkwardly after a moment.

Cassian squeezes her legs as he walks. “I don’t know, I like having you right where I can’t lose track of you.”

Great, now she’s his backpack.

Cassian is pretty strong, though, for being able to carry Nesta uphill with her hiking pack at the same time. Even after watching him lift weights on a near-daily basis, Nesta is impressed at the lack of strain on his face.

“Are you sure you can keep this up for another twenty minutes?” she asks after a while, starting to get concerned. “Really, Cassian, you can just put me down.”

“You’re gonna love this view,” Cassian says, pretending not to hear her. “It’ll make the whole hike worth it, I promise.”

Nesta wonders if she complained too much during the hike to make Cassian so eager to please her. This is their first solo trip together as a couple, without friends or family intruding upon them, and the last thing Nesta wants to do is ruin it by acting like she hates being here. “I’m not doubting you or anything,” she murmurs huffily. “The hike is already worth it.”

Cassian throws her a skeptical look over his broad shoulder, and she insists, “Really. I love pine trees. They’re my favorite kind of tree.”

“We have pine trees back home.”

“They’re better out here,” she argues back.

Nesta feels accomplished at the grin Cassian gives in to. She hates to admit it, but she doesn’t really want to get off his shoulders. The day has been long and sweltering, and the rhythm of his easy stride is enough to make her eyelids turn heavy. She leans down to rest her chin on his shoulder, fighting to keep her eyes open and attached to the scenery surrounding them. It’s a useless fight.

The next time her eyes open all the way, Cassian is carefully setting her down on her feet. Has it been twenty minutes already?

Stumbling to a straight standing position, she shakes off the last of her grogginess and hikes her pack higher onto her back. “Are you okay?” is the first thing she asks Cassian, who’s rubbing out his shoulders despite insisting that he was fine for the whole walk up here.

Cassian gives her an odd look but shakes his head lightly at her. “Turn around, you fool. We’re here.”

She almost forgot. Blinking, Nesta slowly turns around and takes in her surroundings for the first time. She lets her heavy hiking pack fall to the ground. “Um, wow.”

Mount Baker rises triumphantly in the near distance, its peak snow-capped even in June. She stands at the edge of a cliff that gently slopes downward, sparsely planted firs and pines leading the way to what looks likes a field of lavender encircling an ice blue lake. The air up here is cool and fresh, more early spring instead of summer. It’s the type of view that makes Nesta want to write poetry or shit.

This is why she agreed to take a year long sabbatical with Cassian, of course. Not because she loves hiking in the middle of nowhere, or being stuck in an airplane cabin for hours on end, or being away from home. She just likes looking at beautiful things with him. It’s as simple as keeping a promise.

Cassian comes up behind her and rests his chin atop her head. “Makes you want to build a home here and never leave, right?”

But they already have a home in the mountains, and that isn’t the point of this.

Nesta takes in the woods, the lake, the blinding white peak for another minute before turning back to Cassian. “Where to next?”

***

a/n: this one was super boring but i promise it gets more interesting with future installments

tags:

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@arinbelle

@sayosdreams

@bridgertononmymind

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#🚨🚨🚨 #nessian #fic