#Can't Say That I Love You But I Do with My Whole Being {Nessian}

[littlemisssatanist]

my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti inner circle #anti acotar #rhysand critical #inner circle critical #acotar #acotar critical #pro nesta #anti nessian #pro eris vanserra #anti mor #this might be a controversial one

[lovemyromance]

Let's talk about the dreaded pliant bones argument in ACOTAR

First of all, I don't ever want to see this stupid argument anywhere, especially after HOFAS. Second of all, none of the Archeron sisters are Illyrian so they do not have Illyrian anatomy suitable for childbirth. And yet, we see Feysand and Nessian as mates. So it's not like SJM even cared about that herself.

Then ACOSF happens, and oh no, c-sections don't apparently seem to exist and it becomes a BIG DEAL™ that Nesta changed only her own body and Feyre's body to have Illyrian anatomy.

People have been latching onto this argument like Rose on the goddamn Titanic, anything to cling to their sinking ship.

Let's not forget that Elain & Nesta had their bodies changed already once before, against their will. Why the hell would Nesta change Elain's body without obtaining consent after that traumatic experience? That would be a gross violation of bodily autonomy.

And Nesta was shown how to change the bodies. Which could hint that she still knows how, should a similar situation arise again.

But none of that even matters! What matter is that it's 2024 and we are still saying a woman can't be with the man she loves because she can't give him biological children. That is the crux of the argument Gw*nriels always try to skip around and say without saying. Like "oh no!! She can't have his babies!! Ship sank. It's over. The End."

As if a woman should be reduced down to her ability to procreate. This is not the middle ages people! Wake up!

Also, not to mention, even if we use that disgusting logic - The only other female in this series that is mentioned to have Illyrian anatomy is Emerie. Are we shipping Azriel with Emerie now? Because she can FOR SURE have his babies, if that's all that matters. Who cares about her own desires and personality and sexual preferences if she can have illyrian kids??

Now let's consider what people have been latching onto:

Gwyn...is flexible and adapts to training moves quickly. That's why Nesta commented she had "pliant bones", that's IT. She is part nymph and "has different anatomy than high fae", sure, but is that anatomy in any way, Illyrian? Water nymphs don't have Illyrian leathery wings either so I don't understand why insisting Gwyn has "pliant bones" is in any way endgame ship material. Why would her half-water nymph heritage give her the anatomy to birth a full grown illyrian-winged baby??

And then there's the cowards that use this argument by hiding behind SJM herself by saying "Well, I hate it too, but SJM is *kinda* known for writing like this and her characters are all male-dominated, fae-territorial blah blah, she is *kinda* hinting at endgame because the womb thing–" NO. No.

Don't hide. Tell the room exactly what you are saying. Which is the exact same misogynistic spiel as above, where you try to use gross medieval logic to justify your mf fictional ship, but you hide your faces when you say it. Because you know it's wrong, but you're still not above using that as "evidence" in your ship's favor.

I've even said before, I don't care what SJM says. If I don't like a misogynistic take, I am not using that as evidence in any capacity for any reason.

I'm not even being biased by my preferred ship. I genuinely just want people to stop using this argument because it's hurtful to women as a whole. Ship wars are fine, but ffs, when did we get to the point where we are pitting two women against each other based on whose uterus is more suitable??

And before you even say "I just have a problem because I ship Elriel" No. No.

It's about these kinds of cheap arguments in general. I have also never been one to go off saying how Gwyn can't be a valid love interest because her past SA trauma - That argument is also archaic and hurtful. I've never once used it. I don't like seeing it.

Can we just - Not do it? The only reason such arguments have gained traction is because they're constantly echoed by the toxic sides of the fandom online. It's gross and I don't want to be a part of a group that condones that.

Ship who you want, but let's just be respectful about it. We should not have to resort to cheap arguments like the above.

#elain #pro elain #elriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyn #azriel

[ae-neon]

Nessian Rant part 3

First I wanna say the looneys in this fandom make it so unbearable to be here and just have fun. I used to post whatever I wanted without a second thought but now everything has to sit in the drafts for 3 days while I stress over how people might react.

Fuck that.

I'm gonna scream about what I wanna scream about and if you take it personally that's your problem. These are just characters, clock in to reality and stop acting like they raised you.

Now...

I always see my Nessian mutuals talk about acowar Cassian and trilogy Cassian as a whole being so great but...

To be clear I don't mean Cassian as a standalone character, he's literally amazing alone but in Nessian? Be serious

He's also amazing with every other woman he comes into contact with except Nesta... 🤦🏻‍♀️ can't believe yall stan this ship, stand up rn please 😭 lolol jk. This is just a rant, ship literally whatever the fuck you want, luv u 🫶🏼

I said in a recent answer that the key to enjoying SJM's books is abiding by the Sarah Says rule.

Listen to what Sarah Says even if you read with your own eyes that in canon that "character A got shot by character B", if Sarah Says "well actually B doesn't have fingers so he couldn't pull the trigger and A actually shot himself from 3 feet away being both the victim and the gunman" then that's that.

I'm gonna refer to the facts on paper as canon and what Sarah Says as the narrative and what fans think as fanon.

The thing with a lot of (anti Feysand pro Nessian) fans is they can break the Sarah Says rule only when they want to.

They see past the narrative and fanon to look at the canon and say "I don't like that/ I don't think that's healthy/ that guy sucks/ they both suck"

But then will say acomaf and acowar Nessian was great. What was sooooo great about it? I'm not gonna act like they don't have good moments but they definitely aren't as good as fanon or the narrative makes them out to be.

Let's look at their first meeting

Narrative/ Sarah Says/ Feyre's Mind: Cassian is looking at Nesta and Nesta is ignoring Cassian. There's a little back and forth. Nesta tries to ignore him, he doesn't like that. Do you feel some tension? I feel some tension

Fanon: Cassian was the only one brave enough to call Nesta on her BS and dish it back to her/ he got under her skin/ finally someone tells her off etc you know what I'm referring to

Canon: Feyre and Elain frequently challenge Nesta and she more often than not gives in to them. The IC are in the house because Feyre wants to be there and Elain said to hear them out. In that same scene, Feyre essentially tells Nesta she's living her best life and to fuck off. And power to her. That's just their dynamic.

But Cassian? Cassian is a stranger. He's in her house. He's asking for her help. His HL is asking for her help. So why was he antagonising her?

The narrative and fanon loves to act like Cassian is at best an equal and at worst below Nesta in some way and he's just stepping up to meet her energy but ???

Nesta didn't want them in her home. She worried that just working with them would put herself and others in danger. She didn't want to become Fae. She didn't want to share her story to garner sympathy for the NC. She didn't want to kill or use swords.

But all of those things happened anyway??

She's always the one backed into a corner and then treated like she was on equal ground just cause she's still got her pride? That single sin of not breaking is always punished again and again.

Do you see how you've bought into what Sarah Says?

Hybern and the Cauldron?

Cassian was twitching trying to reach for her, this was the moment we knew for sure they were gonna be mates omg

And Nesta? She was right. Everything she feared would happen did but even worse? She and Elain have been kidnapped and she doesn't know why they're being dunked like chicken wings but the fucking pot tried to kill her. She's the one who fell for an eternity and fought her way back to life.

No offense but not the greatest moment to base your romance on since you have to swivel the camera away from a woman in a traumatizing situation to point at a man and say look how seeing her hurt hurts him 🤕

And acowar??? The supposed golden era of Nessian?? Babe, that's just spray paint

It's Nesta who stands up for Cassian at the HL Meeting. You know what she also does? Recount her trauma to strangers, she isn't feeling well, she stands up for innocent humans and fae, she commands a room full of the most powerful men on the Continent.

It's Nesta who calls for Cassian, saves his life, and covers her body with his. These are Nessian moments yes but they are Nesta's actions. It was her who made Nessian shine.

Cassian? He promised her forever and then ignored her? Pulled away, got embarrassed or something who the fuck cares.

But this is your man - look at the canon - this is your man??

And you said yes.

That's why you got ACOFAS. That's why you got your 500 year old man telling a shell shocked, dying woman that he didn't know why her sisters loved her. That's why you got a leader of legions raging like a 14 year old league player. A whole r/AITA villain

And that's why he embarrassed y'all in ACOSF. That's why you got EIGHT HUNDRED PAGES AND NOT A SINGLE I LOVE YOU because you already accepted less than the bare minimum

Because you failed to apply the rule equally for both ships.

Cassian is also in a power imbalanced relationship with Nesta, he's also 500 years older than her so why suddenly have issue with him having control over her and using it to break her and reshape her how he wants?

Again. You can ship what you want. You can indulge in fanon all you want. I support that. Just hope you know that that's what you're doing.

Mutuals don't hate me 😭

#anti nessian #acotar rant #anti acomaf #anti acowar #anti sjm #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta deserves better #pro nesta #sjm critical

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 54)

A very long wait for this next chapter, but it's here! And it's long! Big love to @noirshadow who listened to me moan about depression ruining my ability to write, how I might have to stop writing this fic, how I can't write Nessian anymore. BUT here we are and @noirshadow not only didn't kill me for my whining, but she also beta'd this fic for me so I could bring you a chapter before the new year :)

If anyone is still reading this fic, thank you for your patience! And drop in and say hello below so I know I'm not posting to tumbleweed, haha.

And for anybody who celebrates this time of year, I hope it's been a merry one <3

PS If, like me, you haven't read this fic recently, I'd recommend rereading chapter 53 as a refresher - I had to do it, too *face palm*

Chapter 54 Cassian

“And the Seer of the Sage was certain of Kallon’s intention?” 

Beside him, Nesta didn’t bristle at Rhys’ line of questioning, she merely raised her chin, commanding the space. If Cassian wasn’t so tense he would have been brimming with pride, but instead he remained seated on the U-shaped couch back in Windhaven and tucked in his wings a little tighter.

From where she stood behind him, Nesta’s hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder. The gesture was like a language in itself, albeit a voiceless one. 

Cassian tried to relax, to loosen his shoulders and let out a slow, measured breath. 

It didn’t help.

It had been like this since he and Nesta had planned their next steps in the forest. With the threat of the Blood Rite looming over them, there was no dispute that it was imperative that they move quickly. The information Nesta had learnt beneath the Lake needed to be shared. Their family and friends needed to know about Kallon and Cassian—about Cassian’s mother—so they could stop the death of more females and the bonding of a Enalius’ sword to someone truly terrible.

And whilst common sense and years of formulating strategy told Cassian that the truth needed out, his whole chest ached at the thought of parting with information that felt sacred to him.

When Nesta had unfolded Cassian’s history before him, an uncomfortable mixture or emotions had coursed through Cassian: adrenaline and wonder - and an intense sadness that had both brought him to tears and made him angry at his mother’s fate. He longed for the time to truly process it all, for it all to truly sink in. And whilst Cassian was no fool—whilst the general inside of him couldn’t help but barrage him with the hard facts—it felt as if the choice was being ripped from him

Despite Cassian’s best efforts, the Rebellion was strengthening day-by-day amongst the savager clans. And just last week, Azriel’s spies had reported that Kallon’s Killing Power in the sparring ring continued to grow.

That in itself was of great concern. If the Prince managed to bond the sword to him at the top of Ramiel, there was no telling what power Kallon could wield against the Night Court. With the supposed support of Enalius behind him combined with the swelling anger of his Illyrian supporters, Kallon might finally be able to take that mighty, arrogant step forward and invoke a civil war. 

So, even though there was so much swilling around inside of Cassian’s head and inside of his gut, Cassian had done what any general would do. He’d opened his mind, reached out into the ether for his brother and called for an informal council back in Windhaven. And then, despite the elusive and ever-moving tangle of emotions, Cassian winnowed himself, Nesta and Sala back to the camp he’d grown up in.

They’d landed clumsily, stumbling and righting themselves atop the main dirt path that ran through the camp.

Illyrians whisked past them, giving them a wide birth when they realised exactly who they intended to mow over. It took Cassian a few seconds for his instincts to reestablish themselves, and then he was tugging Nesta off of the road and out of harm’s way.

Windhaven looked as it always did, both beautiful and harsh. The usual clash of steel rang around them, partnered with the clang of cast iron pots over campfires and the beating of wings. On both sides, past the war tents and the scarce wooden houses, were the walls of the craggy mountains. They staggered upwards, past the needles of the pine trees until they met the sky. 

To their right, against the rare clear blue, the tombstone rock that marked the old widows camp was a harsh foreboding of grey.

Cassian wondered how the weather dared to be so cheerful when he felt like the world had been ripped out from beneath his feet. 

“I’m not used to winnowing,” Cassian apologised, his words hoarse against the dryness in his throat. His head felt light-headed, as if he’d left some of the weight of it behind.

Nesta didn’t lift her eyes to him. Instead, she straightened, the column of her spine climbing, her shoulder rounding back until she was set in her usual formidable posture. Then, she tracked her gaze around the camp, cataloguing every movement despite the bright sunshine threatening to blind her vision.  

“We’re here,” Nesta replied simply. Her voice also sounded diaphanous, but whilst Cassian felt as if a part of him was still in the forest, he knew that Nesta was caught somewhere in the future. 

It had been that way since she’d arrived back from the Lake. There was a determination that had set inside of her, a clear direction in which she was resolutely headed.

But whilst Cassian could sense the drive inside of her, outwardly Nesta merely lifted a hand to create a makeshift canopy across her brow, blocking out the sunlight. “Go on ahead, Sala,” she commanded. “Let Mas know we’re coming.”

The manticore didn’t need telling twice. Sala vaulted into movement, the fire from her tail blazing silver, a disappearing beacon that Nesta and Cassian didn’t hesitate to track. 

They set a punishing pace. Clouds of steam billowed in front of them. The morning frost had long since thawed from the hardened earth and mud slicked and squelched at their boots. But finally the bungalow took shape against the mud and the rocks.

Home. They were home. And it looked so perfectly picturesque that Cassian’s throat burned. Because everything that was happening threatened to destroy it. His life, finally right, stacked as precariously as a house of cards. One breath of wind, one wrong turn, and it could all collapse in on itself.

That, Cassian supposed, was the problem with happiness. Ever fragile and transient. Slivers of time, fragments of moments, rather than something permanent and steady.

Cassian hadn’t realised he’d come to a standstill until Nesta said his name. “Look,” she said, but there was something imploring about the way she ordered him, as if she knew the direction of his thoughts and wanted to divert him from the truth of it.

And, because Cassian needed to be distracted, he looked.

Mas stood on the stone step at the front door. Her wings were held proudly behind her back, her thick, dark hair ruffled by the wind. Her grin was toothy and wide, her expression pleased. And at her feet, clinging to her legs, was Roksana. 

“Sinta,” Mas said in greeting as they climbed the few steps that staggered to the door. She clapped Cassian’s face between with her palms and peered into his face in a way that made his chest tighten, as if someone was fisting his heart. Hazel eyes skated over him and what Mas read in his expression had her recoiling slightly. Cassian could have sworn a light winked out in the depths of her irises. 

He knew he must look a state. Whilst his body had healed from his fall from the sky, he was still covered in mud and pine needles and only the Old Gods knew what else.  

For a few heartbeats, Mas just studied him. The concern on her face was indisputable, but in the end, all she said was the blatant truth. “You are tired.”

For a second—just a second—Cassian allowed his eyes to close. He leant into Mas’ touch. She had been his mother in so many ways, had loved him irrevocably, filling the empty space in his heart that longed to have someone care for him in the way mothers did. “Just a little,” he admitted, even if it was a lie. Now he’d had a moment to stop, his exhaustion was so weighted his limbs felt like lead. 

Understanding deepened in Mas’ expression. She stepped back slightly, giving him space. Her head tilted slightly to the side. She glanced sideways at Nesta and then back to him. “You have had bad news?”

“Some,” Cassian admitted, because he couldn’t begin to explain, not even to her. Not even to his brothers. 

But Mas didn’t push him to explain. She only patted his forearm before she rested a hand on Nesta’s arm. “Come inside and sit by the fire, both of you. Roksana and I will bring you chai.” 

Now, Cassian sat with a drained mug cupped in his hands that Roksana had masterfully skimmed over the floor to hand it to him - the obvious skill a credit to Lorrian’s regular flying lessons — and waited for Nesta to reply to his brother. 

“My trip beneath the Lake was enlightening,” Nesta told Rhys in that way that was so Nesta—so artfully worded. “From what I’ve learnt, it’s clear that Kallon has been planning this long before he called to vote the suspension of the Rite. Ramiel has always been his back up plan, when all else failed.”

Nesta paused, her fingers closing around Cassian’s shoulder, asking his permission. So far, Nesta had purposely evaded Rhys’s assumption that she had met with the Seer of the Sage below the Lake of Souls. But now there was no avoiding it, the truth had to come out, and Nesta knew that Cassian couldn’t look his family in the eyes and tell them about his mother. 

Cassian did not turn his head. He didn’t nod or say anything. But something unravelled slightly in his chest, the barest of movements, like gears slipping before they locked back into place. 

Nesta took a measured breath. 

“There’s more,” she announced to the room. 

Cassian felt the peak in interest, the weight of everyone’s attention but he fixated his gaze on the threads of the carpet, on the individual fibres and didn’t look up. He couldn’t.

And then Nesta told them.

She explained how she’d not met the Seer of the Sage, but the real Maya—the twin and mother who had fled to Spearhead pregnant in the face of a Prophecy. The twin who had raised her youngling away from prying eyes, hoping that he could be better than other Illyrian males. 

When Nesta’s voice fell away, a stung silence followed.  

“So, Maya is not Maya,” Feyre said, eventually. Cassian imagined her eyes darting to him, but he remained hunched over on the couch, his elbows propped up on his knees.

The words fell into the quiet, sinking like a stone plummeting through water. 

It took Cassian too long to understand that they were respectfully waiting to see if he might speak. 

Cassian clasped his hands together, watching the way the tendons at his knuckles strained, the blood squeezed out until they were bone white. His siphons caught the light from the movement, the log burner blazing in the gems’ reflection, creating the illusion of a wet well of blood.

His lips flattened, the muscle in his cheek ticked before it disappeared completely. Cassian knew he was taking too long to answer, but he felt as if he were mute. “No,” he said eventually, his tongue thick, his speech slow even though he’d only spoken one word.

And that was all he said. His throat clogged up again, his ability to speak locked away, the key tucked into some secret pocket inside of himself that even Cassian wasn’t aware of.  

He hadn’t known he’d be like this—so silent. His body had decided for him, his slowly processing mind shutting everything down. Perhaps it was trauma of some kind, a delayed reaction that had everything in him grinding to a halt. His past had been cracked open and laid bare for everyone to pick at and Cassian wanted to hoard the truth of his mother, of his lineage, as fiercely as Amren guarded her jewellery.

Cassian had still not reconciled that the female living in his countryside cottage on the outskirts of Velaris was not just someone they had rescued from Ironcrest. She was his aunt, his mother’s twin, and her real name was not Maya, but Lyanne. 

As if sensing the knot of his thoughts, Roksana crawled across the carpet from where she’d been sitting close to Lorrian and Frawley and came to sit at his feet. 

“Lyanne was protecting her sister,” Nesta announced in wake of Cassian’s silence. “She can’t be blamed for keeping the oath to her twin.”

“Of course not,” Rhys cut in smoothly and Cassian felt his brothers violet eyes searing into his skin, felt the lightest touch of a claw raking down his mental shields. “I would do the same for my brothers—for anyone I consider to be family.” 

Cassian knew that was true. He, himself, would do the same for Azriel and Rhys. For Mor and Amren. For Feyre—for any members of his family—without a second thought. 

And Lyanne had sacrificed so much to ensure that everyone believed her twin to be dead. She had faked her own death and taken on the identity of her sister so convincingly that nobody suspected that she was not Maya. She had watched the male she had loved grieve for her even though she’d been right in front of him all along. And it was Marsh’s grief which had been the greatest distraction of all. It had stopped him looking too closely, had stopped him from realising that the wife he’d loved had not been unfaithful and burnt to death but had been living alongside him masked as someone else.

It was that mask which had acted as a constant reminder to Marsh of the wife he had lost. To Marsh, Maya had become an object of hate. She was the wrong twin: his brother’s widow had lived and she was the spitting image of the wife Marsh believed he had lost.

But he’d bedded her anyway. And in all that time, he’d never grasped that the wool had been pulled over his eyes. 

It made Cassian question how deeply Marsh’s love had really run.

If Nesta had an identical twin, Cassian could never mistake the two. He knew Nesta, down to his bones. Down to the cavern within himself where even now, her name still whispered like a secret that only he and Nesta understood. Nesta, Nesta, Nesta—

As if his innermost thoughts called to her, Nesta’s fingers fastened even tighter on Cassian’s shoulder.

“It makes sense.” Azriel’s voice cut through the sigh of Nesta’s name. As always, the Shadowsinger’s voice was chilling—not awful but the soft caress of midnight clouds passing over stars, the coolness of shadows seeping into your skin, dew on the grass sinking through your boots. “We’ve been wondering why Kallon hasn’t been acting, why no more females have been sacrificed in his attempt to bond the blade. Illyrian magic is amplified over the Rite.”

Cassian knew Azriel had directed the conversation purposefully, shifting the focus away from Cassian’s family history. His mother.

He and Rhys knew better than anyone that Cassian had mourned his mother. Since the moment he’d been torn from her and thrown into the Windhaven camp, Cassian had grieved for a female that memory had finally eaten away at, until she was nothing but the barest of fragments.

“It’s a sacred time,” Rhys admitted slowly—carefully. Cassian could still feel Rhys’ gaze on him, but he didn’t look up. Instead, he rested a scarred hand on the tangle of Roksana’s wind-tossed hair. The youngling didn’t shrug him off, she only nestled closer until she was tucked in the valley between his legs, her wings resting against the sofa. 

“And Ramiel can only be accessed tomorrow?” Feyre interjected. “If Kallon wanted to attempt to bond the blade by dark magic, then he’d have the best luck there?”

“It was Maya’s belief that the immense power found on Ramiel could be used to amplify the magic Kallon would need to bond the sword to him,” Nesta confirmed. “And Cassian and I have discussed it at length. Everything adds up. We believe that Kallon visited the Seer of the Sage to try and confirm his belief that he could bond the blade at Ramiel. And whilst we don’t know what the Seer of the Sage told him, we know for a fact that the Blood Rite isn’t just a time for Illyrians to gain status, it’s the anniversary of the thirty-third day of the battle against Vanth. Oya and Enalius defeated Vanth atop Ramiel’s summit and if the sword originally belonged to Enalius, where better to sacrifice the females than—”

“—atop Gods-blessed ground,” Rhys finished, the cadence of his words slow and stretched out as the realisation hit him. “And Kallon has sole access to it.”

There was a breath of silence, short and fleeting, and then Rhys was interrupting it with an abruptness that mimicked the change in his entire countenance. No longer was he their brother, he was the High Lord of the Night Court ready to defend his territory and brimming with power. 

It made Cassian look up.

“How successful will Kallon be if he attempts to use dark magic, complete the sacrifice and bond himself to the sword?”

Rhys’s gaze had pinned itself on the pale witch sitting in the corner of the couch, a blanket draped over her knees. 

As petite as she was, Frawley’s very existence had a way of commanding a room. It was like a tug at the periphery of your senses, like prey sensing something other.

Frawley didn’t so much as move but Cassian felt her authoritative presence expand into the room, until she was larger than life, even whilst she sat small in frame in the corner of the couch.

It was a while until the witch spoke up, her voice scratchy and beat up in a way that told Cassian that she hadn’t yet recovered from her trip to the Lake with Nesta. It gave Frawley’s voice an eerie, prophetic quality.

“Dark magic exists to attempt the unnatural, Rhysand, you know that.” Frawley laid out her palms, as if there was a story unfolding in the centre of them. The rest of her body was so still it was almost as if she had been frozen in place. Only her lips moved and whilst her eyes remained directed at Rhys, they blazed with focus, one burning hot, the other cold. 

“In the past,” Frawley began, “dark magic has been used to bend original intention and force the intended direction of power against its will. And sometimes it has worked, whilst other times it has caused great devastation in its failure. Dark magic is rarely ever permanent.” Now Frawley’s frosty blue eye snapped in Cassian’s direction, to the female standing guard at his shoulder. “As I’ve taught Nesta, magic feeds off sacrifice and eventually, it will get hungry.”

The static quality to Frawley disintegrated as she leant forward, her focus back on Rhys. “So, Kallon might be successful in bonding the blade to him but it will only be for a time. And when the blade begins to fade again, when its magic starts to flicker like a dying star, what will he sacrifice then? How will he maintain his facade?”

Nesta’s voice cut in without hesitation. “A sacrifice will become a ritual.”

“Yes,” Frawley agreed, her voice dropping out of its rasp to something hushed and undulating. A teacher praising their student, not in a condescending way, but in the way of two people being on the same wavelength. The witch and the Made.

For a short time, Nesta and Frawley looked at one another, but then Frawley’s hazel eye slid to Cassian. It felt like a touch, like something burning, and Cassian knew that Frawley would dare to tread where noone else would. “Yet whilst that is a problem in itself, we also need to consider that Kallon might want to keep the sword bonded to him not only for the sake of status and the support of the Rebellion, but due to his increased strength.” Frawley’s brown eye swivelled to Azriel, whilst the blue remained on Cassian. “You noted at Ironcrest that the Princeling’s power had grown to earn him a fourth siphon in the training ring—weeks after he’d acquired the sword—did you not, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s cold hazel eyes barely moved yet somehow they met Frawley’s. “I have it from multiple sources.”

And, as Frawley knew it would, it was the new direction of conversation which instinctively loosened the noose around Cassian’s throat, the one trapping his speech. Because just like Rhys had slipped from brother to High Lord, when it came to a question of power - of strength on the battlefield - Cassian couldn’t help but fall into his role of general of the Night Court’s armies.

Cassian’s voice was terse. “Kallon comes from a lord’s bloodline. His Killing Power is still reaching maturity. The growth in his power could be entirely unconnected to the sword, especially given that the blade disappears when he tries to wield it.”

“But what if it’s a byproduct of both?” Feyre asked quietly, tentatively treading down the path they all knew they needed to head down. 

Unsurprisingly, Rhys agreed. “That’s a good question, Feyre darling.” 

Rhys leant casually against the mantlepiece but Cassian was not fooled by the illusion of calm. Cassian knew that despite his best efforts, Rhys had read Cassian’s body language down to a tee. And whilst Rhys knew how close Cassian was to snapping, he still asked, “Remind me, brother. How many training siphons were you using at the age of twenty-four?” 

A growl coalesced in Cassian’s throat. Six. He’d had six siphons at the age of twenty-four and Rhys damn well knew that. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to,” he replied shortly.

Seemingly unfazed, Rhys merely shrugged. “If Maya is your mother, then you and Kallon share the same blood. If, like you, his genetics have provided him with a large amount of Killing Power and Enalius’s sword grants him even more, he could potentially harness magic that makes him the most powerful full-blooded Illyrian in history.”

“If you combine a Prince’s status with an impressive amount of Killing Power and a fully-bonded sword, you’ll have a hard time convincing the Illyrians that Kallon isn’t God-given flesh,” Azriel added. And if Cassian hadn’t been bristling at how blasé everyone was being with his heritage, he would have been surprised to detect something dark in his brother’s voice, as pitch as the shadows curling around his ears. 

“And that there is both the key and the danger,” Frawley announced, lifting a finger before Cassian could even open his mouth to interject. The witch settled back into the cushions, as if their understanding meant that she could now rest. “Cassian and Kallon share the same blood. They are cousins. It is possible that the reason that the sword showed itself to Kallon is because the sword recognised the bloodline.”

“But,” Frawley continued with an abrupt finger, ignoring the way Cassian had finally straightened up, his expression black, “I’d wager that Kallon’s blood isn’t quite right. It’s not the blood the prophecy foresaw, so the blade disappears when he tries to use it.”

Feyre straightened up from where she was sitting across from Cassian, her palms pressed together between her knees. “If the blood isn’t quite right, how will Kallon successfully bond it to him?”

Frawley observed Feyre unflinchingly. “Dark magic twists and turns the intention of normal magic. That shared blood connection could be the very thing that allows Kallon to bend the sword to his will.”

Then, her eye swivelled to Nesta before she even spoke. “Maya thought that the sword might be using Kallon as an avenue.”

Cassian stopped feeling affronted about the way everyone was talking about him with a suddenness that was jarring. His heart had given an awful, adrenaline-fuelled thump.

“Smart female,” Frawley remarked with a dip of her chin.

“So you think she’s right?”

“Do you?”

Cassian didn’t need to look at Nesta to know that she was raising her chin. “I think that Kallon was never the intended end recipient of the sword.”

Rhys nodded. “I think we all hope that to be the case.”

Quiet hung around them for a pause, suspended like stars in a night sky. And Cassian couldn’t bear the pregnancy of it. He knew where the conversation was leading, what everyone around him had likely come to the conclusion of given his heritage. 

Even he and Nesta hadn’t touched upon it. But just as he opened his mouth to say something,  anything to break the awful suspense-filled silence, Nesta was speaking again. “Even so, Maya warned me that prophecy is not guaranteed truth, but an alignment in the stars that can rearrange themselves into a new orbit at any time. Allegiances can change.”

Feyre was following along, her chin bobbing, her eyes knowing and… old, somehow. It was something Cassian hadn’t seen in Feyre for a long while, but when he did, it was usually at times like this — when they all came together to discuss politics and enemies.“If that’s true, then we have to consider the possibility that the sacrifice might result in the sword acknowledging Kallon as its master?”

For a few breaths, Feyre’s question hung above them like a canopy of stars.

Slowly, all eyes turned to Frawley.

“It’s possible,” Frawley contemplated slowly. She lay out her palms again but the gesture was not unsure. Instead, it was as if the lines and creases on her palms were a map of constellations. A foretelling of what was to come. 

When Frawley looked up, both irises were glowing. And Cassian knew from the moment that her eyes hooked on his what the witch was going to say and that he wasn’t going to like it. “Kallon is not the only one who has the bloodline.”

The heat of everyone else’s attention was scorching, but Cassian didn’t back down from Frawley’s challenge. Even if under the surface he was thrashing like an animal caught in a trap.

Star-born. They thought he was star-born. 

The statement was so direct and so blunt that it would have pierced like an arrow if Cassian hadn’t mustered every ounce of warrior training into deflecting it. 

Cassian imagined Frawley’s words skittering off of him, the metal of the arrow head crumpling rather than piercing as Frawley leant forward and asked, “When you were in Ironcrest, did you touch the blade?”

Internally, deep down inside the impenetrable fort Cassian had built for himself, he bristled. But outwardly he didn’t allow himself to so much as blink. Even his wings remained motionless and expressionless, tucked in tight. 

Nesta’s hands tightened on his shoulder, just a fraction, and the movement felt as if she’d taken the brunt of the attack for him. 

Cassian fought the instinct to clench his jaw. “You know I didn’t.”

“But you felt its aura, didn’t you?” Frawley probed. 

“It would have been hard not to,” Cassian replied curtly, because it was true. 

“Your siphons winked,” Lorrian remarked. He’d remained quiet until now, his mouth set in a grim line, but now he spoke up, voicing what Cassian had already admitted to himself but had not spoken aloud. “And the gem at your chest. It lit up like a beating heart. I didn’t think think much of it at the time, I assumed it was because you have more siphons than the lot of us, but perhaps the sword was calling to you.”

Cassian thought of that moment. Everyone had felt the power of the sword in that room. They’d all known, undoubtedly, that it had been Enalius’. Nobody had disputed it, even before Frawley had confirmed what they all knew. 

He forced his voice to come out calm and steady. He knew where this conversation was leading and he wished they’d all just say it, speak their conclusion out loud so they could put a damn plan in place. “The sword called to all of us. Power thrummed off of it in waves. It was indisputable."

That, at least, was true. At the time, Cassian’s blood had howled, battering against his skin as it tried to beat its way out of him.

But had Cassian truly felt the sword’s power more keenly than the others? He’d not thought anything of it at the time. Lorrian had described the sensation as odd, but to Cassian it had felt like a rush of adrenaline, a calling. It had felt, Cassian realised, the exact same way as when he’d first met Nesta. As if something had turned over inside of him, flipping to the other side of a coin. 

His skin had itched for hours afterwards. His magic had moved inside of him like a restless tide, his power desperate to surge, on edge and ready to expel itself in a way that Cassian knew would have been relentless.

Cassian had attributed that to his proximity to Nesta, to the stress of their situation as they walked the precarious tightrope during their time in Ironcrest. They’d shared a room that night. They’d exchanged heated and angry words. They’d argued about Mor, about the war. About the bond between them, even though they hadn’t addressed it directly.

And all of that seemed so long ago. So much had passed since then. A bond had been accepted. 

And it had been broken. 

“My mother,” Cassian announced slowly, “told Nesta what we already know. The prophecy is a prediction, not a clear glimpse at destiny. We can’t fly headfirst into a plan that relies on me being—“

“—Starborn?” Frawley finished.

The word made Cassian’s stomach knot. And it almost bordered on humorous that Cassian had spent his entire life searching for answers about his mother, about where he came from, only to discover that he was linked to an ancestry that he despised. 

For years, Cassian had searched Illyria. He’d destroyed Spearhead camp and the males who were complicit in his mother’s death looking for answers. But now he was confronted with the truth of his past, he found that it was not how he’d imagined. 

All Cassian had ever wanted growing up were people that he could call his own and who would accept him for him. People who would recognise his worth not for the siphons on his hands, chest, knees and arms, but for who he was inside.

It turned out that Cassian had living cousins, an aunt, maybe even a father. He’d spent the first half of his life abandoned and so lonely it had ached inside of him, weaving into his blood until it became a part of his identity as a bastard. He’d never been able to shake off that feeling.

It was only Nesta who had eased that ache, like a palm smoothing over a brow. When her arms were banded around his neck, her nose in his hair, nothing else seemed to matter.

A sword would do nothing for Cassian. He had long learned that his race’s begrudging acceptance of him was due to the Killing Power in his veins and his ability on the battlefield. And it had never made it easier to bear the sneers and the derisive comments. Because at the crux of it, Cassian would always be one thing to them: a bastard.

Yet, Cassian knew that his mother had taken a great risk when she had fled from Ironcrest. But she had done it because if the prophecy had turned out to be true then the child growing inside of her was destined to be star-born. And Cassian’s mother had wanted her child to grow up fighting for what was right. If her child was destined for the sword, she wanted it to be wielded by someone good.

But Cassian couldn’t help but wish that there didn’t need to be a sword at all. 

“We are going to stop Kallon,” Cassian announced, grim resolution in his voice as he redirected the conversation where it needed to be—to the issue at hand. “Before he even gets to the top of Ramiel, we’re going to stop him. We are going to confiscate the damn sword and then we’re going to decide what to do with it. Wield impenetrable wards around it, just like we’ve done for the Cauldron.”

“And what if you have to intercept it?” Frawley pushed. 

“I am a warrior,” Cassian replied tersely. His jaw felt tight, his wings were tucked in so tightly his muscles ached with the effort of restraint. “I will always do my duty.”

“Do you know how it works?” Nesta asked from behind him. “If someone worthy was to touch the sword, would it immediately bond to them?”

Frawley’s head tilted to the side, her hair moving with the gesture. “If legend is to be believed, then yes. For the true intended recipient, there will be no need for dark magic. But we must also consider that the sword may be broken.”

“Broken?”

“The gem is missing on the guard,” Frawley reminded them. “Enalius might have wielded the blade to defeat Vanth, but it was Oya who forged the sword from her own blood and bone. Without that gem, we must consider that the reason that sword might not be bonding to Kallon isn’t because he’s not worthy, but because the sword is damaged.”

“And from her chest she drew a blade / Bloodied steel and amplified rage / Bone of a prison,

the scarlet of sacrifice / A sword to banish immoral greed,” Nesta whispered. “Heroicis.”

“Yes,” Frawley confirmed sinisterly. “Roksana, can you fetch us the book?”

Thrilled to be useful, Roksana scooted over to the shelves and then made in Frawley’s direction, the brown leather-bound book too big her small hands. But Frawley shook her head. “Give it to Cassian, please Roksana. It’s his, after all.”

The leather was soft and supple as it always was—worn from hours and hours of perusal. 

His mother had touched this book, Cassian thought, as he stared at the cover. He’d known that all along, but to have a piece of her now, after Nesta had so recently met with her, had a lump forming in his throat. 

He opened the front cover, his eyes trying not to fall upon her writing inscribed on the inside of it, even though he knew the words by heart—warrior heart, never forget that you are loved—and turned to the drawing that he’d stared at countless times. He knew it like the back of his hand. When he couldn’t read, this is what he’d stared at. This line drawing with the arced blade and the curved pommel which he knew to be bone, not just because of the Heroicis’ stanza, but because he’d seen it in real life. 

“The gem was definitely missing from the sword in Ironcrest,” Cassian confirmed. He held the book up and tapped at the drawing so everyone could see it. “The handle was cracked, too.”

“Expected from centuries of existence,” Frawley replied matter-of-factly.

“But does Kallon know the jewel is missing?” Nesta asked. “And is the sword not bonding to him because the jewel is missing or because he’s not the intended wielder?”

“If we don’t stop the sacrifice we’ll find out,” Frawley said gravely.

Cassian’s jaw tensed as his brain worked overtime and came to the conclusion that he was sure Frawley had already drawn. “Blood. You think the females’ blood might restore the jewel, just as Oya used her blood and bone to create the sword.”

“What I think,” Frawley replied sternly, “is that dark magic might have the capability of manipulating the girls’ blood so the blade accepts it as a substitute of Oya’s.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Nesta said shortly. She looked to Azriel. “What do your shadows whisper to you? Have your spies tracked Kallon’s movements?”

“We believe that he remains at Ironcrest.”

Cassian knew what that meant. “What you mean is that nobody has seen him leave,” he said grimly.

Because Kallon could winnow - any Illyrian could the day before the Rite. 

Azriel remained still as always, his expression unreadable. But his shadows coiled around his ears. “Yes.”

Lorrian’s eyes darkened. “How many people have you got watching him at his residence?”

“Enough,” Azriel replied. “But he could winnow from within his rooms. My spies are excellent, but they can’t follow him there.”

Cassian heard the urgent bite in Nesta’s tone. “He could winnow himself to the base of Ramiel and your spies could be none the wiser for hours.”

Longer than that, Cassian thought. But he didn’t see the point in highlighting the obvious. 

“So, what do we do?” Feyre said. 

“We need warriors patrolling the skies and on the ground around Ramiel,” Cassian said brusquely.“Kallon can’t winnow directly to the summit until tomorrow. If we can pin down his location now then we can catch him before he has the opportunity to act.”

“I can look to deploy some Windhaven warriors that I believe we can trust,” Cassian continued, falling back into the role of general. Already his mind was sifting through the male faces that he ordered about during training, remembering which males stood out from the crowd. Loyal males that he knew didn’t follow the Rebellion and would have his back in battle. 

“How many?” Lorrian asked. “Mallory, Andreas and Protheus stand out from the aerial unit,” Lorrian said. “They’re quiet flyers, excellent at keeping out of sight, but I don’t know where their loyalties lie.”

“We can’t take risks,” Rhys said. “If any of those males are loyal to Kallon then we risk everything—”

“The widows will fight.”

Everyone turned.

Mas stood in the left-hand archway that led to the kitchen, a dishtowel in her hands. She was only looking at Cassian, as if to her, there was noone else. “We are not much, but we are loyal. And we will fight for you.”

***

The soapy water in the sink was so hot it was scalding, but the scream of Cassian’s nerve endings felt like a balm somehow - a silent expression of something that he could not express outwardly but wanted his body to scream all the same.

“That is not your job.”

A voice came from behind him. A familiar one. A motherly one. It held the sort of understanding that came from someone who knew him very well. From someone who saw it as their duty to analyse someone in the way that only family could. When they knew his every tick, the thoughts running through his head, without even glimpsing his face.

Mas drew up beside him, a tea towel in hand. “And by the looks of it, it’s not one that you’re good at either."

She ushered him aside to the draining board, until he had switched places with her and her hands were submerged in the suds. Silently, she handed him the cloth and he took it, because whilst he might lead the Night Court’s armies, he’d handed over the duties of the bungalow to her.

“You are angry with me,” Mas observed after a silence that stretched out taut and thin. She handed him one of the mugs the colour of Nesta’s eyes and Cassian took it, stuffing it with the cloth and twisting the fabric to dry the inside.

He did not look at her. “I’m concerned for your safety.”

The clink of porcelain promptly stopped and Cassian knew that if he cut his gaze to the housekeeper he’d not find Mas glaring at him, just simply watching him.

It took him too many heartbeats to summon the courage, but when he did turn his head to meet her eyes, she was waiting for him. Her expression was one of steady earnest, burnished with silent understanding.

But she did not back down. Instead, she gripped the top of his hand. Her skin was chapped and rough, forever weathered from her years as a laundress, but her grip was strong. Insistent. Her voice soft. “This is what the training has been for, has it not? We are learning to protect ourselves, to stand up when a threat rises against us. We might not be much, but we will fight for you.”

With slow deliberation, Cassian set down the mug onto the draining board. Then he closed his palm over the top of hers and let the barricades he’d constructed fall away so she could see his true expression.

All the worry. For her. For Nesta. For all of the Illyrians who would be harmed as a result of Kallon—his cousin.

When Cassian spoke, he heard the crack in his voice, the roughness around the edges before he exposed the soft and vulnerable middle. “You are much,” Cassian told her with quiet vehemence, “but nothing prepares you for using the sword. For battle. You saw Nesta. She’s the strongest fae I’ve ever met and Hybern haunts her even now.”

A shadow passed over Mas’s irises, but she straightened, an invisible hand of courage supporting her. And Cassian supposed he’d nurtured that hand. Since the moment he’d met her, he’d wanted to teach Mas to defend herself so she could walk with confidence. And now here she was, small yet tall before him.

“You forget I have seen battle fatigue, sinta,” Mas told him. “I have seen battlegrounds—I’ve been a part of them.” 

The skin around Cassian’s mouth tightened, bracketing his mouth like a grim smile. Because Mas was wrong on that count. He would never forget the day of the kerit attacks. He would never forget Mas’s body on the ground, her blood. He would never forget Nesta kneeling beside her, wreathed in the purest of light as she knitted the torn flesh back together. As she healed long brutalised wings. 

“Nesta saved me,” Mas continued, her voice resolutely soft in its purpose but determined all the same. “She brought me back for another life and I intend to fight for that life. For you. For Nesta. For everyone who has ever suffered under our own people. For a better life.”

Her words fell away and into more silence. Mas retracted her hands and reached back into the suds, her fingers slipping against cutlery which clattered against the sink. Eventually, she drew out a teaspoon and began to methodically clean it before she extended it out to him without glancing away from her task. 

Cassian found that he was relieved. To look at Mas now would mean to memorise every inch of her face, terrified that he’d not have the chance to study it again. He’d already begun to do it with Nesta without meaning to, his mind whispering its own cruel prophecy. 

“You saved me, too,” Mas continued into the grim yet resigned silence Cassian had woven himself into. “When we met, I was beaten down. I was so small and insubstantial, the wind could have just tossed me away. Do you remember?”

Now, Cassian forced himself to look at her. He felt his brow collapse in on itself, his eyes felt as if they might melt with the emotion—with the memory. “Of course I do,” he rasped through the chokehold in his throat. 

Because of course he did.

It had been a particularly icy day in November that Cassian had flown to Empyr’s monthly market. He’d braved the trip in frozen temperatures to order some specialised steel with a travelling Illyrian blacksmith and afterwards, he’d stopped at one of the many stalls to buy some food before he hit the skies back to Windhaven.

Cassian had been leaning against his chosen food stall polishing off a pastry when he’d noticed a small female in the long queue. Her clothes were clean but, like most Illyrians, they’d seen better days. Yet, it had been the black eye that had snagged Cassian’s attention. Hunched over and hobbling, Cassian guessed that the female was suffering from cracked ribs that had yet to heal properly. 

And from the look of her cracked and bleeding hands? Laundress. Definitely a laundress.

As it always did when Cassian forced himself to truly look at the Illyrian females around him, Cassian’s heart panged, as if someone had plucked a sad and melancholy string inside of him. The female had looked so small—not just in height, but in presence. She was a ghost, wraithlike, folding herself up, allowing the males to go ahead of her, head bent, timid and forgettable.

By most Illyrian standards, she was the perfect female.

It had taken her a while to make some headway in the line. And the entire time, Cassian had watched her, unsure why he was so transfixed by her progress—until it happened. 

Throughout Cassian’s life, he had learnt that good things happened because you brought them about yourself. Through blood, sweat and tears. Through fighting tooth and nail to survive and then to thrive. But sometimes, on a rare occasion, Cassian believed in destiny. He believed people could step right out in front of you, people who would change your life because the Gods had destined it so, if only you’d seize the reigns. 

Cassian had sensed it when Rhys had found him in his draughty and battered tent in the middle of the night. He’d felt it the moment he’d lain eyes on Azriel, even if he and Rhys had made it as hard as possible for the Shadowsinger at first. Later, he would believe it of himself and Nesta. From the very moment he’d set eyes on her in the human realm, he’d felt that flutter in his gut, some magnetism pulling them together. 

And Cassian had felt it then in Empyr as he watched a female that he’d later learn went by the name of Masak give her meagre coin away just so a little girl could eat. 

The little girl had snatched up the pastry as if she couldn’t believe what was happening to her. And then, fearful that it was too good to be true, had taken off, half-flying half-running across the frozen ground, across the bridges, until she disappeared into the woodland and was gone. 

Mas had watched the girl disappear with a look that was both heartbroken and rueful. But before she could turn away from the line, Cassian had found himself moving. 

A heavy, deliberate clunk had sounded as Cassian placed two small coins on the wooden counter. “Four more pastries, please.”

The Illyrian male behind the counter froze. Cassian had watched him sneer down at the youngling, ready to snap at her to scarper. And when he’d not been able to emit his anger, Cassian had known it was coming for the Illyrian female next in line. 

But Cassian’s face was known all over Illyria. Even if he hadn’t been sporting his siphons that adorned the backs of his hands, his knees, his shoulders, his chest… the Illyrian community knew the face of the General of the Night Court’s armies.

“And some chai,” Cassian added firmly, as he remembered how the female had eyed the cauldron bubbling gently away behind the counter. “Two cups.”

The male’s lips drew back for a second, as if he couldn’t stamp out the instinct to show his disgust at the female before him, before his expression was wrangled under control. “Anything else, General?”

“Not from you,” Cassian rebuffed coldly, the instruction in his voice the sort he used on the battlefield rather than with friends. Then, he’d turned to Mas. 

When his eyes had met hers, she had taken a small step back. Then another. 

When he held up the pastries and the cup of chai, she actually flinched. Stepped even farther away from him, jostling accidentally into some a male who sneered in disgust—as if she was dirty.

And in that moment, Cassian chose to do what he did best. He read his opponent.

The female before him knew who he was. Knew the control he had in Illyria. She was a low-born female who had been brought into the world to serve the male species. She would not dare disobey him and he… wanted to speak to her. Needed to.

The tug in his gut instructed him to.

So, he kept his voice deep and commanding. “Come with me.”

For a moment, he thought he’d read Mas wrong. That she might bolt. Her eyes darted around her but when she remained on the spot, when she fleetingly dared to meet his eyes, Cassian knew that her hunger was great enough that it won over her fear of him. And he could scent the latter on her, the tang of it so sharp, it could cut. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t use the weapon on him—none of the males who came to Empyr would use their weapons out of respect for the sacred site—every Illyrian female was raised to fear the fist just as much as the edge of a blade. 

Cassian had walked over bridges with water running steadfast beneath him. The air at Empyr was always heavy with the tantalising scent of food, the finest sort of mist, and the slap and roar of cascading water against rock. 

When he reached a wide clearing in the woodland that closed around the lip of the valley, Cassian stopped. 

There, he set down the food and drinks on a rock and took a few steps back. His senses told him that Mas had kept to the trees that hugged the open space, but he gestured to the pastries anyway. 

“Please,” he said. “Eat. Drink.”

Mas remained silent. She didn’t move, but her eyes darted to the food before they snapped back to him. The bruise around her eye socket was still black and purple—fresh, rather than old. A fae body should have healed her by now. And if she wasn’t healing? She hadn’t eaten for a long while.

So, Cassian told her straight. “Those injuries won’t heal if you don’t eat.” Pine needles crunched under his weight as he sat down on the cool earth and began to eat one of the pastries he’d kept in hand.

Slowly, he ate. Slowly, he drank his chai. 

Patiently, he waited. 

Eventually, Mas crept over to the food. Snatched at a pastry before she backed away to the trees again, far away from him. As if the pines would grant her safety. 

Finally, she ate. Small bites at first. Then huge ones, as if she hadn’t had a meal in days. In moments, the pastry was gone. 

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Cassian stood. Entreatingly, he held out a cup of chai to her. He did not dare her to look her in the eye. It was an olive branch—a sign of respect, a choice not to dominate and Cassian was certain Mas had never been granted that courtesy in her entire life. 

In fact, Cassian looked purposefully at his leather boots as he placed the cup on the ground between them, before he backed away. 

The winter wind ribboned around the clearing and Cassian scented roasted chestnuts and wood shavings beneath the dirt and grime of a fae body, heard the crunch of pine needles break as Mas chose to take the cup.

He felt her eyes on him the entire time she drank.

When she finished, Cassian gestured to the remaining pastries as he took another bite of his own. “Don’t let them waste.”

She didn’t.

When Mas was done, Cassian had formulated a plan. He knew what he was going to do and how he was going to go about it.

Gaze still averted, Cassian took a drag from his cup. The chai was too sweet and already lukewarm thanks to the punishing Illyrian weather, but he swallowed before he asked, “Where are you from?”

Mas stiffened, her fear spiking sharp. Yet, when she didn’t turn on her heel Cassian lifted his eyes.

It struck him that she was a small female by Illyrian standards, her dark hair thick yet cropped short, the ends hastily and unevenly cut in a way that made Cassian suspect it had, until very recently, been long. But it was her hazel eyes that haunted Cassian. They were dark in the only way someone’s irises could be when they’d witnessed too much.

When their eyes connected, Cassian found that there was something steadfast in Mas’ expression. It was not hope, more of bleak resolution. A female who had no choice but to run away from everything she’d known. 

Mas’s voice was scratchy, as if she hadn’t used it for days. Broken, as she spoke the dire truth Cassian had suspected, “I can’t go back.”

“I don’t imagine you should,” Cassian commented with a forced lightness that didn’t quite hit home. There was a grave quality frosting his voice that Cassian hadn’t managed to thaw out. And to be honest, he hadn’t wanted to. The way females were treated in Illyria? It was a crime. “I certainly won’t be taking you,” he added.

Mas’s lips parted. The bottom one was still red and swollen, but she managed to jam her mouth shut without a hitch of breath. It told Cassian that she was not unfamiliar with pain. 

A few beats passed before she spoke again. 

“Spearhead,” she admitted in a whisper. And Cassian knew that the fault in his voice had convinced her that he would not take her back there, because she affirmed more loudly, “That’s where I’ve come from.”

Just the mention of the camp had Cassian’s expression tightening. Yet, he made a show of brushing his hands together, ridding himself of the wayward flakes of pastry as he nodded slowly, processing the information. 

Then, he looked up at her. The bruises and scrapes were starting to heal, her body no doubt able to begin repairing itself now it had the energy to do so, but her wings—her clipped and brutalised wings—remained mangled. “And how did you get here?”

Clearly having noticed Cassian’s gaze, Mas tucked her wings in tight, away from view. “I paid someone to fly me.”

Cassian nodded again. The gesture seemed stupid and meaningless, but it gave him something to do. He knew better than anyone that paying someone to bite their tongue didn’t mean anything in Illyria. And the males at Spearhead? They gave Ironcrest a good run for their money when it came to cruelty. “And now? Where do you plan to travel to next?”

Mas didn’t say anything, but he could see behind her eyes that her thoughts had began to stampede. Cassian might have extended a kindness to her so far, but if she betrayed her next location—if she even had the money to move on—he could track her. He could report to whoever was looking for her where she planned to fly to. 

But, even so, Cassian could tell Mas had more pressing issues. If she had decided to leave her camp, she was running from something—or Cassian would guess, someone. And Illyrian males did not take the possession of their females lightly. They would hunt for eternity for something they believed to be theirs.

So, to go on the run? Mas either had no choice or she was formidably brave. 

And Cassian respected bravery, both on the battlefield and off of it.

“I’d hazard a guess that you’re out of funds,” Cassian commented, nodding to the empty wrappers and cups. “I’m in need of a housekeeper back in Windhaven. I travel often for work and I need someone to take care of the day-to-day running of the home: overseeing laundry, cooking, cleaning, tending to the fires. I can offer free accommodation and a good wage, but more importantly, I can offer you safety.”

For a long while, Mas remained in shocked silence. Her hazel eyes—which over time would shape into something soft and motherly when she looked at him—had been wary and confused.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because you had barely any coin to your name but you gave your last pennies to a little girl who could not afford to eat,” Cassian told her. “Because this,” he gestured to her black eye and took a step closer to her, “is everything that is wrong with Illyria and you do not deserve it. Because you look like someone who has been beaten down and needs a new start. I can give that to you.”

“I might have deserved it.”

The words were so unexpected that Cassian wanted to blink. But he just stared her down, telling her with every second that passed that he didn’t believe her. Even if Mas had hurt someone, it was most likely in defence. If she’d made someone bleed, if she’d lashed out, Cassian was sure whoever who had received it had deserved it.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not true though, is it?”

“No,” Mas admitted after a moment. She had grown brave enough to study him a little and he knew she was attempting to read him, to catalogue his face. It seemed to be something instinctual that she’d been tamping down—a warrior instinct suppressed from birth but clawing to get out. “Don’t you want to know what I’m running from?”

Cassian lifted a shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to tell me.” He didn’t really need her to. He could hazard a pretty accurate guess: her husband. Not mate—a mate would never harm the one they were bonded with.

“You’ll be safe in my residence,” Cassian told her. “If you work for me, I can promise you protection. And I can absolutely promise that I’ll never lay a finger on you. What do you say—”

A hand fell on Cassian’s shoulder. The sensation jolted him back to his place in the kitchen and away from the past.

Beside him, Mas was shooting him a knowing look. Her face was so different from when they’d first met. It was clean and free of bruises. Her eyes rippled as if she’d too just come out of the memory of that winter day. 

“I’d lost all hope when we met,” Mas reminded him, even though it wasn’t needed. Cassian had just relived it, after all. “I had no faith in anyone around me. But you saw me, bruised and dirty, and you bought me food anyway. You offered me an honest job, the chance to live a different life. And I took a leap of faith and decided to trust you—”

“Because you were out of options,” Cassian interrupted in reminder. 

He handed her the towel he’d been using and offered it to her so she could dry her hands.

But Mas ignored it, focussed instead on their conversation. She tapped a wet finger over his heart and leant towards him. “Not because I was out of options. Because you were different from the other males. And in time, as I came to trust you, I learnt that you were simply kind and good.” Mas punctuated her next words with a pointed tap against his chest. “You. Saved. Me. And I will never forget that. I don’t want to.”

A thick hand seemed to clutch at Cassian’s throat. Suddenly, it was hard to speak, but somehow he managed. “It was my pleasure.”

Mas dried her hands on the towel before she patted his cheek to show she understood. But she wasn’t done. “You freed me from my husband, a life of abuse, sinta. And now I owe you. Let me do this. Let me fight for you.”

The words unravelled something bound tight within Cassian, unfurling faster and faster until his emotions were unbound and swimming.

“What I did is not something you are meant to repay,” he started, but he had to stop to swallow. To gather himself, to speak the truth that needed to get out. Because he knew that Mas had heard them talking earlier—about his past and his ancestry. Knew she finally understood. And he needed her to know. Wanted her to, despite the fact that his voice dropped into something both hushed and cracked—exposed. “But if that’s what you’re worried about. You already have. You’re the mother I never had.”

Mas smiled sadly. Her eyes had grown soft and shining. In that moment, they looked like butter melting in sunlight. It was a vast contrast to her eyes when they’d first met. Lost and scared. Now, there was nothing but truth reflected in her irises. Something simple and uncomplicated and true. “And you are my son, stella,” Mas said simply, as if it was obvious. “And Nesta, my daughter. I like to think that we have given each other family.”

Cassian had to blink to stop the burning in his eyes. When he looked to Mas again, he saw that a tear of her own was rolling down her face. He caught it. As always, the skin of Mas’ face was soft and thin with age, but so lovely. “Does this mean you’ll finally move into this outhouse when it’s all over?”

Mas’s expression shifting into something earnest. “I like to stay with the other widows, the orphans. But when this is all over, when we’ve beaten Kallon, we will build houses in the camps together. We’ll give other females a home—anyone who wants a roof over their heads. How about that?”

One corner of Cassian’s mouth ticked. His heart was so warm and so painful. Like it was bleeding. 

But he just said, “That sounds like a deal.”

Mas straightened. “So you’ll let us come? Whoever wants to?”

“We’ll need to be selective,” Cassian told her. “Only the most competent and only if they want to come. I trust your judgement, but know that we’ll brief them in an hour and that they can’t breathe a word about it to anyone.”

Mas dipped her chin to let him know that she understood. “They won’t, not when it comes to you,” she told him. Then, she gave him a toothy grin. Ruffled her wings with mock-pride. “And not when it comes to me.”

Cassian couldn’t help it. He conceded a laugh. 

***

Nesta found Cassian in their bedroom. He’d left on the pretense of readying himself for battle, but really his intention had been to stand by the window and watch Mas leave. The housekeeper’s wings were held high and proud behind her and she held Roksana’s small hand in hers as they walked in the direction of the widows’ camp. 

The youngling fluttered alongside, fluctuating between walking, hopping and skating over the mud.

If Cassian could paint, this would be the image that he’d choose to brush against canvas. An endearing portrait of two seemingly happy figures retreating into the distance—a distance which meant that they were out of reach and safe. Unharmed.

The sensation of Nesta’s fingers sliding through Cassian’s snagged at the periphery of his attention. As always, his body sung at the proximity of her and he let that feeling vibrate through him until their fingers were interlocked.

“You agreed?” 

Nesta’s voice was muffled by the scales of his leathers. She’d pressed her chin into his bicep as she looked up at him. Affection was something that Cassian had been yearning for without realising it, but now Nesta was leaning into him, the warmth of her soaking into him, Cassian sensed the desire for it etched deep into his bones. It was like an unbearable ache, a building pressure that layered upon itself. And Nesta pressing against him, holding him to her? It made that pressure deflate a little.

If Nesta’s hair wasn’t woven back tightly for battle, Cassian would have threaded his free hand through her hair in thanks. Instead, he pushed back the sigh that coalesced in his throat. “They’re not as battle ready as the males.”

“They won’t be for a long time,” Nesta supplied simply. “Someone once told me it takes years to become a warrior. That it’s constantly a work in progress.”

“And you listened?”

Nesta’s snort was a wave of air, but she didn’t admonish him. She just clutched at his arm a little tighter, the silent gesture his admonishment. “I did.”

Usually, Cassian would have smirked—anything to rile her. But now, in their shared bedroom, Cassian couldn’t summon it. Not when he knew what they were about to walk into. “It’s going to be dangerous.”

Nesta straightened at his words and the scent of her, the jasmine and vanilla, finally tugged his focus away from Mas’ retreating back to the female beside him. 

Nesta had changed out of her everyday leathers and into the ones Rhys had gifted her. The smoky silver scales rippled in an exact replica of the flames at her fingertips, but Cassian couldn’t marvel at the magic of it, not when the female in question was pinning him down with her formidable eyes. “Isn’t battle always dangerous?”

“It is,” Cassian agreed lowly. “But I’m already worried about your wellbeing. And now Mas? The other females?” He swallowed, and his words caught in the clog at his throat. “There’s so much at stake—”

“You are not responsible for our lives, Cassian.”

Cassian’s voice became sharp without his command. “I am always responsible for those that step onto a battlefield for the Night Court, whatever shape that might take.”

“You are forgetting,” Nesta told him calmly, unperturbed by his whipped reply, “that those who step onto the battlefield do so out of their free will. Tonight, when we make our way to Ramiel, none of us will be coerced. But we are all driven by the same motive: to stop Kallon gaining power and starting a Civil War. The females are taking a stand because they have been oppressed for too long. They are finally standing up for themselves, showing their allegiance despite the fact that they could suffer the consequences. And I am doing the same. You can only respect that. You can’t take responsibility, Cassian, it’s not your right.”

There was no response to that, so Cassian just stood still, fighting the temptation to rub his tired eyes. 

Together, they had a rough plan in place but they didn’t know how it would all go. And if Cassian had learnt anything in his long years as a warrior, it was that no battle was a sure thing. There was no guarantee that everyone entering the battle would emerge breathing and whole. The battlefield was swathed in the promise of glory, but when you were in the thick of it, when you were knee deep in guts and shit and blood, it was nothing but horrifying.

And whilst they might not be entering a true battlefield, none of them expected to emerge from their conflict with Kallon unharmed.

None of them were that deluded. It wasn’t a pessimism, just a hard truth. A possibility. 

Cassian turned his body fully to face Nesta, his hand slipping from hers only for both of them to find purchase on her arms. 

“Don’t say it,” Nesta interrupted him, reading the grim look in his eyes. 

It took everything in Cassian to arch an eyebrow. To play. “Some might accuse you of being superstitious, sweetheart.”

Nesta let out a huffed breath. “Why tempt fate?”

“You are my fate,” Cassian told her quietly. He tracked her face, cataloguing it all—his Nesta. Again, that thought hit him: he wanted Nesta to be his wife. He wanted them to be joined in that way. She’d given him everything when she’d accepted the mating bond, and now he wanted to give her something human, something that she had always thought had been in her future. 

If she wanted it, that was.

Nesta’s hand tightened on his just as her mouth flattened. The movement was so brief Cassian would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.

“And you’re mine,” she assured him slowly, and even though her face was near unreadable, Cassian felt the spark of embers in his chest as they glowed. Knew that she was telling him the truth.

For a brief instance, Nesta observed him. And Cassian let her, unstacking every guard he held around himself, as tight as a burning ring of flames until there was nothing left behind but ash and the heart of him.

What Nesta saw pulled a faint smile onto her face, but it was too brief and it was not wielded out of happiness. It was too sad. And when Nesta confirmed it by drawing his knuckles to her mouth and pressing her lips there, he knew that every worry he had for how tomorrow would play out… it festered inside of Nesta, too.

They both had a feeling. An ominous sense of something dark and lurking. 

Cassian watched Nesta drop his hand and turned towards the door. 

But when she reached the entryway, she paused. Her slim fingers wrapped around the frame and held on tight. 

Seconds passed as Nesta hesitated. Then, without turning to face him, she told him, “Ask me when we’re on the other side.”

The ensuing pause ate up her words, until nothing but a ringing silence hovered between them.

If they were in different circumstances, Cassian would have closed the distance between them and wrapped her hair around his palm. He would have looked down at her, revelling in the way her chin would tilt stubbornly up to meet him, that regal air wreathed around her like its very own crown.

But instead, Cassian just stared steadily at Nesta, waiting for her to turn. But she didn’t.

Cassian fought the temptation to curl his hands shut in a bid to distract the quickening tempo of his heartbeat. His siphons pulsed in anticipation. A whisper of something wound through him. A sighed name. “And what will I be asking, Nesta?”

He couldn’t see her but he knew Nesta had raised an eyebrow, the execution as perfect as the arch of it.

Her fingers tightened around the door frame, but still she did not turn. “Ask me when it’s over. And I’ll say yes.”

And it was in that pause, as her words stretched out between them, that the screaming started. 

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @fanboy7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99

#nessian #nessianfic #acotar fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #embersandlightfic #duskandstarlightwrites #nesta

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Wait, what Nessian hike scene? I quit reading after acomaf…

Oh God so this is going to be long but it makes zero sense without the bonkers context: in the Nessian book (book 4, Court of Silver Flames) there is this bass ackwards subplot invented to make sure Feyre can't solve the plot - SJM says, "Oh, Feyre - the 22 year old who learned to read last year - is pregnant by her 530 year old husband and so she can't fight!! 🥰💕🥰😌😌 Isn't this lovely?"

Except - and I am not joking this is all explained in EXCRUICIATING DETAIL - Feyre and Rhysand were having sex while Feyre was shape-shifting into an Illyrian and now the baby has wings. Apparently shape-shifting changes your entire DNA. And Illyrian women have pelvic bones shaped to carry winged babies but High Fae dont. Because Feyre and Rhys had wings while they banged, the baby has wings. And this is VERY DANGEROUS. So dangerous that Feyre cannot use any of her powers - cant shift back to the appropriate bone structure for the baby. The pregnancy could rip Feyre apart from the inside. They CANNOT do a c-section - they are extremely firm and insistent on this. Feyre is absolutely going to die if she continues the pregnancy to full term. The birth will be SUPER DANGEROUS.

And Rhysand just decides that Feyre doesn't need to worry her pretty little head about this information. He tells the details to every single person in the Inner Circle because he is just so SO worried about his darling Feyre...

But yeah she definitely doesn't need to know medical information about her pregnancy so that she can make informed desicions and choices of her own!! Who needs to make choices of your own free will when you have Rhysand amiright!?!?

Anyway Rhys and the whole Inner Circle have been treating Nesta like absolute scum and garbage because she has PTSD and isn't grieving in a nice, pretty way like Feyre or Elain. Nesta is self medicating with casual sex and copious amounts of booze and doesn't want to spend time with people who hate her (ie, the Inner Circle) so they get super salty and decide to tear down the apartment where Nesta is living, force her to move to the House of Wind with Cassian, who at this point has nothing positive to say abut Nesta except that she looks hot when she's starving herself, and order her to train as a warrior even tho Nesta has repeatedly expressed that she has zero interest in fighting as a soldier. They explain that she's EMBARRASSING to the Night Court and Feyre exclaims, "How can I have any right to rule if I can't control my own sister?"

Yeah.

So anyway Nesta is pissed as fuck about this after several hundred pages of MacGuffin Hunting and decides that it's wrong for Rhysand to be such a manipulative fucking control freak about their lives so she tells Feyre (correctly) that Rhysand doesn't really respect her because if he respected her, he'd tell her how dangerous her pregnancy really is.

Now we get to the hiking scene. Brace yourself because it's about to be gnarly as fuck:

So Nesta has spilled the beans. Feyre gets very sad and starts to cry like a little girl - which, for all intents and purposes, she is because SJM chose this book to make Feyre weirdly "pure" and innocent and a beacon of goodness and light. Weird choice given that Feyre is canonically willing to murder literally anyone who gets in the way of what she wants for her future, but whatever.

Seeing her sister cry makes Nesta extremely upset and triggers her to start having an absolute breakdown. The book so far has been full of passages describing Nesta's feelings of worthlessness, her lack of self-esteem, and the way she desperately needs to control some aspect of her life (drinking, having as much sex as possible with complete strangers, having rituals to lock her door and take baths because these things are insanely triggering for her) because all of her choices and autonomy are constantly being stripped from her. She fears now that Feyre will hate her, because she was angry when she revealed the truth - so Feyre won't hear the truth, but will hear Nesta's fury, and at last, her little sister will hate her for good. Their relationship may now be ruined.

However, instead of Feyre and Nesta having a heart to heart a la ACOTAR and instead of them collecting Elain and fucking off from the Night Court for good - Feyre runs crying to Rhysand, who gets so incredibly fucking angry with Nesta for... revealing the fact that he lied to his wife about her own pregnancy.

Rhysand orders Cassian to get Nesta out of Velaris, "Or I'll fucking kill her."

Actual line. From the text.

Now, idk if you've guessed by now, but Cassian is actually Nesta's love interest for this book! Spoiler alert, but they turn out to be mates!!! So what is Cassian, the most alpha of all the very alpha very sexy Bat Boys, going to do when some random ass guy who is smaller than him threatens his mate?

Nothing.

Actually, I lied - Cassian obeys Rhysand unquestioningly. Zero instincts with regards to protecting his mate, whom he is supposed to be falling in love with, whom he is supposed to respect. He takes Nesta out of the city and thinks about how fucking angry he is with her, how mean and awful and cruel she is for... telling Feyre - again, correctly!!!!! - that Rhysand doesn't respect her as an equal and that her pregnancy is dangerous. He decides that he's going to punish Nesta by forcing her to hike across the mountains! He and Rhysand have a good little mental chuckle about this. Haha, Nesta hates hiking and being in nature, she'll be so miserable, but she totally deserves this for being a nasty evil person who we dislike. :)

During this conversation when Cassian decides to physically punish Nesta for acting out, also, it's revealed that Feyre is TOTALLY fine with the fact that Rhysand kept details about pregnancy secret from her. It totally doesn't matter that he lied to her and removed her agency and her ability to make informed decisions about her own life and body. He always has good intentions and just overreacted out of his overwhelming love for her, and who is Tamlin, again? What was the issue with him supposed to be? Anyway, I forget! Who cares!? Feysand baby is a go, they're going to name him Nyx <3

Cassian and Nesta are now hiking. Nesta is neither eating nor drinking, even though they are literally marching up and down multiple mountain peaks. For days, Cassian does not speak to Nesta except to bark orders at her about where to stop for the night, and to wake her up in the morning. Nesta rapidly spirals, thinking about how she's in pain and how much she deserves this, since she's a hateful person who has ruined every relationship she's ever had, so it's fine if she dies.

Cassian thinks, "Huh, Nesta's awfully quiet. Weird. She's probably preparing to yell at me again, she's such a bitch."

But then he notices how little she's eating, and how hard she's pushing herself despite her being much physically weaker than him, and he wonders if she's trying to kill herself.

He doesn't react to this insight, and continues marching her across the mountains until Nesta quite literally passes out from exhaustion.

Cassian is now somewhat worried - he's still angry at her, though, and yells at her that she should have been drinking more water.

Soulmates, everybody!

Anyway, once Nesta is revived, they have a heart-to-heart... sort of. Nesta tells him how worthless she feels, and how she genuinely believes she deserves what is happening to her. She thinks that she deserves cruelty, and is completely un-loveable, because she couldn't forgive her father for neglecting them as children and he still went out to die for them. Cassian... replies that he once burned down a village because that was where his mom was from and his mom was mistreated. No reaction to any of Nesta's insecurities. He doesn't reassure her, or tell her that he loves her no matter what, or that her pain doesn't define her worth as a person. He tells her that the best time to be a nice person was yesterday, and the second best time is today. Then he gives her a sword and tells her to start her training up. They have sex by a lake.

Ta-da! Nesta is now cured of her PTSD.

That's the hiking chapter! And while I'm at it -

At the end of the book, Cassian has never once admitted to liking Nesta as a person on the page - oh, he loves having crazy sex with her and her huge boobs, but he still kinda thinks she's an unreasonable bitch - and Nesta has gotten on her knees to apologize to the Inner Circle for being inconvenient and mean to them. Nobody ever apologies for calling Nesta worthless, or telling her she ought to be thrown into a dungeon in the Court of Nightmares, or for tearing down her house, or chasing her out of Velaris. Nesta sacrifices her vaguely defined powers to save the Feysand baby. And they all live happily ever after.

I rarely call out authors directly but I hope this long ass post explains my very deep and special personal hatred for SJM. She wrote a "healing arc" for Nesta which involved her being physically beaten into submission and molded into a "nicer" person for the Inner Circle's convenience. I have never read anything more fucking disgusting than Court of Silver Flames.

Tldr: You quit while you were head anon, and I'm proud of you.

#anti sjm #anti cassian #anti rhysand #anti inner circe #LMAO I'M SORRY BUT I GOTTA BE SAFE WITH THESE FUCKING TAGS YALL #anyway fuck silver flames all my homies hate silver flames #stan nesta archeron

[rosanna-writer]

So…what about an ACOTAR Regency!AU? Maybe something a la Pride and Prejudice with Feysand?

There's a post I saw on my dash a while ago (I wanna say it was from @temperedink?) about P&P and ACOTAR that came to the conclusion that a true P&P retelling is hard to make work for ACOTAR without more or less twisting the characters into something unrecognizable, which tbh I broadly agree with. At least for Feysand, Rhys is too suave to be a Darcy, you know?

Also A Rake By Any Other Name and As The River Flows are top-notch regency (or regency-with-magic) feysand fics that I highly recommend!

But anyway putting this under a cut because....the thoughts are long.

I DO love the idea of exploring a regency-adjacent setting with fae nobility within the realm of ACOTAR fic. Mating bonds add a ton of interesting wrinkles to the typical storylines you see in a regency setting (Is it less of a scandal if the person you run off and elope with is your mate? Marrying for money vs being with your mate??? In a world where the mating bond is revered above everything else??? The DRAMA!!!)

So I really think to do the concept justice, the fic would HAVE to be, at its heart, three interlocking stories, one for each of the Archeron sisters. Because in a setting like regency, a world where women don't have a lot of economic independence and family reputation has such tangible effects, there are so many difficult situations you can put the sisters in where their choices affect each other. For example, if Nesta follows her heart and runs off with Cassian, she might be happy, but is a bastard-born Illyrian foot soldier going to be able to support her sisters, too? Or will that choice just heighten Elain and Feyre's sense of duty to marry for money? Elain and Lucien might be mates, but since he's Tamlin's emissary and exiled from Autumn, does that mean if Papa Archeron dies, Feyre and Nesta will need to pack up and move to Spring until they're married off?

And then of course.....if Nesta and Elain both follow their hearts, that leaves known awkward wild-child Feyre to "save the day" (assuming this is a scenario like P&P where the sisters can't inherit). There's plenty of potential for Rhys's parents to still be alive (and disapprove or be openly skeptical of Feyre as future Lady of the Night Court, potential shenanigans with his sister causing problems....) OR for Rhys to be more worried about coming into his own as a new, grief-stricken High Lord than finding a wife (and maybe getting pressure to find one anyway).

You could easily wind up in a situation where each sister is simultaneously embroiled in a love triangle of her own (probably something like Neris vs Nessian, Feylin vs Feysand, and Elriel vs Elucien), which sounds INCREDIBLE to read but my god the outlining that would require!!!

AND there's the whole question of if the Archerons are fae nobility in this AU.....where are they from? Velaris? The Court of Nightmares? A different Court entirely????

There is SO MUCH POTENTIAL with this concept, and I may return to it when I feel like I have the bandwidth to write something with like....ten million things going on in the same fic.

#anyway to be clear if anyone wants to write it #consider all my thoughts here up for grabs if that's not clear

[gwyns]

E/riel’s: Elain dressed in dowdy black and Eris was still eyeing her. Eris was attracted to Elain. Eris wanted Elain not Nesta. Every man/male in wants Elain. Elain is the most beautiful Fae female in Prythian. Elain dressed that way on purpose, the plan worked.

Eris wasn’t eyeing Elain because he wanted to dance with her, or because he was interested in her. Eris was probably eyeing Elain because he knows that’s his brothers (Lucien) mate. If there’s anything we can gather from the Autumn Court, it’s that they’re traditional, and Eris going after Lucien’s mate would not be a good look. And I don’t see Eris doing that to his brother.

Elain didn’t wear black, or dress simple/ugly (contrary to E/riel’s belief), to make herself look unattractive/tone down her beauty, while standing next to Nesta. Black doesn’t look good on Elain. It sucks the life from her (those words are canon from Cassian). Nesta is already beautiful. Eris was attracted to Nesta because of her power. Eris is attracted to power, and Nesta is easily the most powerful person in that room. He already noticed her during the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. (I could go on about this whole Eris/Nesta/Elain/CoN thing).When I see E/riel’s argue about this it’s annoying.

e/riels stop making everything about elain challenge, i'm begging. i love elain but my god the lengths they have to go to is insane at times. eris has not, never has and will never want elain. know why? that's his brother's mate and unlike a certain broody bat that is letting his insecurities cloud his judgement at the moment, he knows better than to get in the middle of a mate bond

the only woman eris showed a romantic interest in all throughout acosf was nesta. like you said, he was attracted to her power. like i clearly remember this being said, or at least heavily implied, it wasn't hard to grasp. so i agree with all of your points, eris was likely just trying to get a feel for elain, he's curious about her and why wouldn't he be? that doesn't mean he wants to fuck her

the purpose of this scene, nessian aside, was to show us that elain is trying her best to fit in and be ok and that no matter how hard she tries, she's not. she can't force herself to be happy in a place that's, quite literally, draining her. there wasn't some secret plan to make elain look more plain, it's not a secret sjm gotcha, it's yet again another metaphor. here the color she's wearing is significant because sjm makes sure to note that it is, she's telling us through her characters that something's off. that something is elain in night court black. like let's take a second to realize she didn't just say black, she specifically said night court black. she couldn't be much clearer with this and it drives me nuts

#antielriel #anti e/riel #asks #anonymous

[darklove9314-blog]

I would like to see Nesta and Cassian telling the IC about their Mating Ceremony and in line with that I also want Nesta flirting so hard with Cassian that he starts to blush with happiness (I can't resist when Cassian turns into a shy boy in front of his dream girl 😂) All that without them caring with what others will think, it would be a dynamic of the IC getting used to Nessian being an affectionate couple, who walk hand in hand or kiss each other whenever they greet or say goodbye.

This could be my birthday present 🎂🥳💖 Thank you!!!

Author’s Note: I had this submission in my ask box for a while and wanted to do where I answer submissions/prompts from my ask box for Day 7 of Nessian  week, I hope everyone enjoys it!

First off, Happy Belated Birthday (This Ask has been in my inbox for some time, and I apologize for that) !!!!! As for the prompt, here you go!!!

His kisses were as scorching as fire, setting her whole body alight as she climbed on top of him, her hair hanging lose on her face as Cassian pushed it back, kissing her with everything in him before Nesta exhaled in relief, collapsing on top of him, sweat drenching both of their bodies as Cassian traced the back of her hand. 

“That was sure something.” He mused, his smile as bright as the dawn before she turned to him with a smug smile, 

“Just thought I’d give you a taste of what you’re in for when we make our mating official.” 

A feral grin passed over Cassian’s face as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, 

“You mean we didn’t do that, over and over again last night?” 

“Practice runs.” She claimed as Cassian caught her hand pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“Well then, perhaps we should get more training in today just to make sure.” 

A soft laugh fell from Nesta’s lips as Cassian placed a kiss between her breast, licking up the center of them, Nesta arching into the feel of his tongue of her flushed skin, but she knew there were other things that they needed to take care of today. 

“As much as I would love to take you up on that tempting offer, there’s something we need to do first.” 

“Which is?” 

“We need to tell the others that we’re thinking about a mating ceremony, even if they don’t want to come, it would be better if they at least knew about it.” 

“You want to tell them? We don’t necessarily have to. All we need is one of the priestesses-we can even ask Gwyn to officiate, if that’s what you’re more comfortable with.” 

“I want to tell my sisters.” Nesta started, sitting upright as she glanced out the window, “I want to tell them and I know that Feyre wouldn’t want to keep it a secret from your brothers, and I wouldn’t want to have a ceremony where  all our family couldn’t be there.” 

A small smile passed over Cassian’s lips as he pressed a kiss to her lips, 

“Then we’ll tell them mate, but be warned Rhys may take top priority in decorating for the ceremony. Hell he may even insist on helping you plan. And Mor-well, she loves mating ceremonies,  not to mention Feyre, and you know Elain would want to take care of the flowers, and-” 

“I want all that.” Nesta mused as she leaned forward to kiss him, “But in the end what our mating ceremony looks like doesn’t matter to me as long as I have you standing there waiting for me at the other end. 

Cassian kissed her knuckles smiling, 

“You know I’ll be there.” He promised her kissing the tip of her nose as she sighed in content. 

“We should get dressed, go to the River house to tell everyone.” 

“You think we have time for another round?” He asked pulling her closer. “For extra luck?” 

Nesta smiled a feral grin at him as she pulled him to her, capturing his lips with a wanting kiss as he burrowed her into the bed. 

“I think we can make an exception.” She smiled as he ran his hand over her hair. 

“That’s my girl.” 

Nesta didn’t know what time her and Cassian had emerged from the House of Wind, but when they finally left their bed, they ventured outside, Cassian scooping her into his arms as he flew them down to the River house passing the sidra as they went. 

Nesta marveled in it, glancing at the river with a new sense  of wonder before they arrived to the house, Nesta running a hand over her disheveled hair before she glanced at the house, her nerves in full force as she felt the warmth of Cassian's hand intertwining in hers. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cassian asked her, “We don’t have to do this today if you want to tell them later. We can say we just came down to see the baby.” 

“No. I-I want to do this. I want to let the world know how much I-How much I love you.” 

Cassian brought her hand up to his lips brushing a kiss against her knuckles in reassurance. 

“Then let’s go show them how in love we are, Nesta Archeron.” 

Nesta smiled, walking hand in hand to the front door with Cassian as they knocked gently just in case the baby was asleep. Rhys answered, baby Nyx resting in his arms, head on his shoulder as Rhys glanced between the two looking at their intertwined hands before looking back up to them. 

He gestured for them to come inside, turning his back to them as they followed him inside, Nesta looking to Cassian as Cassian rested his free hand on her back for reassurance before they stepped through the threshold. 

“Mate, your sister is here to see you!” Rhys called out before Nesta replied, 

“Actually, Cassian and I have something we wish to tell everyone.” 

Rhys glanced at her, a question in his eyes before he looked back to their hands, Nesta catching the sound of Feyre bounding down the stairs before he said, 

“You accepted the bond.” 

Nesta swore she saw Feyre pause on the steps, her hand going to her mouth to hide the smile forming on her face before she ran to her sister and Cassian pulling them both into a hug, 

“Oh my Gods, Congratulations!” She exclaimed turning to Cassian with a smirk, “Does this mean I can call you my brother in law?” 

Cassian smiled, “Of course.” 

“Did I hear brother in law?” Elain asked come back inside from her garden, before glancing at Cassian and Nesta intertwined hands. 

“Soon to be.” Cassian told them as they glanced at him in surprise, “We haven’t made the bond official yet.” 

They glanced at her, 

“To be fair I offered him the option of the ceremony or eating a stale cookie. He chose the ceremony.” 

“What can I say, I want the best for my Mate.” Cassian grinned pulling her closer, as Rhys glanced between them. 

“Do you have any plans where you want to have it?” He asked, 

“We haven’t really thought that far.” Cassian said glancing down at Nesta, “All we know is that we want everyone to be there, it doesn’t matter where as long as we’re all together.” 

“Then together we shall be.” Rhys answered, handing the baby over to Feyre as he pulled them both in a hug.,

“Congratulations.” He whispered to them. 

“Does anyone else know?” Feyre asked as Cassian nodded, 

“Azriel does, but that’s because he figured it out himself, and asked us about it directly.” 

“And Mor?” Rhys asked as Nesta felt her chest fall slightly, she knew that Mor would be the hardest one to tell, 

“I’m telling her later tonight.” Cassian answered, resting his arm over Nesta’s shoulder giving her a reassuring squeeze. Her hand went up to meet his as they glanced at each other, Nesta not caring if they saw her be affectionate, she would never regret doing another thing with this male, not in her lifetime. 

“What about Gwyn and Emerie?” Feyre asked. 

“I’m going to see them when Cassian talks to Mor, I already know how  want to tell them.” 

Feyre smiled pulling her sister closer as Elain joined them in a hug. 

“If you don’t mind the help, Elain and I would love to help you plan the ceremony.” 

Nesta smiled at them, glancing at both of her sisters with a smile on her face, 

“I would love that.” She answered, falling back into her sister’s embrace as she let herself live in this moment with them. Not afraid to hold herself or her feelings back anymore. 

“You two accepted the bond?” Mor asked him after as he twirled his cup in his hands, 

“Yes, well, we’re planning to, I wanted to go the more traditional route and have a mating ceremony, I want everything with her Mor, no matter what the future holds, I want to experience that future with her. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Mor asked, Cassian knowing that she didn’t mean it in a condescending way, but from a place where she wanted to make sure that this was what he wanted too. 

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted. She’s all I ever wanted.” Cassian replied to her as Mor’s smile grew. 

“Then I guess we have to get you more dancing lessons, wouldn’t want you to fall flat on your face at your own ceremony, and for the first time in  your life you might actually have to wear a tux instead of your leathers.” 

Cassian shrugged, not caring the reason as long as he made the ,love of his life happy. He would do anything for her. Even if it was learning how to wear a suit with his wings or learning how to dance more, because he would always want to dance with her, his lover, his mate. And he couldn’t wait to start the rest of their lives together. 

“So, you wanted to see us?” Emerie asked as they sat in the room of Emerei’s shop, Nesta smiling at both her and Gwyn holding the book between her hands. 

“I have something that I both need you to see.” Nesta said handing the book to them as Gwyn squelled reading the title. “How to Plan your Own Mating Ceremony.” 

Emerie pulled her into a hug, 

Gwyn smiled flipping the book open with an excited light in her eyes, 

“Well, obviously you need a priestess to officiate, I’m not a High one, but I’m sure we can figure something out.” Gwyn said as Emerie glanced over, 

“And obviously I’ll help cook for the event, maybe you’ll even let me do the cake.” Emerie grinned as Nesta smiled, 

“You might have to fight Elain for the cake,” 

Emerie smiled as she responded, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” 

They hugged her as Nesta felt the love of all those aro8und her, glad that everyone she loved would be there to celebrate with her and the love of her life. 

When Nesta came back to the House of Wind, Cassian was waiting for her a book in his hands, candles surrounding him, the symphonia playing soft music as he set the book down Nesta glancing at the room as she smiled, 

“What’s this for?” She asked as he pulled her closer, a smile on his face. 

“I figured we were due for our first practice run for our dance at the mating ceremony. So what do you say, Mate, will you give me the honor of this dance.” 

She grasped his hand, smiling at him as she answered, 

“Of course, Mate.” She answered, her heart full as he pulled her closer as they swayed to the music of the Symphonia content to just stay in each other’s arms and let the music guide them.  

@nessianweek

#nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #nesta #nessianweek2022 #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

[offtorivendell]

what would you think the IC reaction would be to Elriel?

Hi anon, thanks for stopping by! This is a good one.

In a time of no intercourt or international political tension, then I fully believe that they would all be happy for Elain and Azriel's happiness together.

If you're asking my opinion on who would support Elriel pursuing a romance right now?

Support them now - Mor, Nesta

Torn - Cassian, Feyre

Against until later - Rhys, Amren

Mor is one I can't see as being in any way supportive of Elain or her mating bond being used as a political pawn. I get the feeling that she's one of the more romantic characters, but especially given her own history (and with the Autumn Court, to boot). She has almost certainly noticed something going on between Elain and Azriel (really, I think it's just Cassian who hasn't at this point), and I think that because of her romantic past - losing her mortal queen, first to the Wall, and then to old age - she wouldn't want them to wait, because really, nothing is guaranteed in this life. I think she would prioritise Azriel (and Elain, but she's been friends with Az for 500 years) feeling loved over the political risk.

Nesta I think will also see both sides quite clearly, but given what she said about just wanting to be husband and wife with Cassian (ugh I hated how that whole bit was handled, sorry, there wasn't any genuine resolution and Cassian owes her a massive apology, imo), she will bring a very human opinion to the table and see where Elain is coming from. For all the sisters are fae now, they are not fae at heart, and mating bonds don't mean to them what they do to those who are raised with that culture.

Cassian obviously loves his brother, but he has just gone through his own journey with Nesta and their bond, which he almost appeared to be waiting for (possibly unpopular opinion, but imo Nessian's bond made their romance less believable, and I ship them less now than I did in ACOWAR). But I digress... essentially, I think Cass is both a bit too "pro bond" right now to think straight - though I don't think for a minute he'd force Elain to give Lucien a chance, his mind is a bit muddied by his own pains when Nesta was functionally ignoring and rejecting him until very recently - and also aware of the risk to his Illyrian legion if Beron or Lucien decided to make a play for Elain (a powerful Cauldron Made Seer who would be viewed as an asset to any ruler).

Feyre is the original Elriel shipper, and she seemed to pick up on their potential back in ACOMAF, but I think that, as a High Lady, her loyalties are torn between her sister's happiness and the safety of her people. She and Rhys had discussed the very real possibility of Elain being used as a political pawn in ACOWAR, so I wouldn't be surprised if this becomes a more active choice on her part in Elain's book. It's not pretty, but it's understandable.

Rhys loves his brother, but like Feyre, he's also responsible for the people of the Night Court. It's absolutely hypocritical of him to say he would have gone to war to keep Feyre from Spring without mentioning their mating bond trump card and not offer Elriel the same protection (because HE is the one who has twice now brought up Blood Duels and Beron/the Autumn Court, who could claim Elain by their antiquated customs), but the chances of war are far greater now than at the start of ACOMAF (a death god has entered the chat).

Amren is the wild card for me. She has picked up on something between Elriel, imo, but she is also the most likely to put logic and sensibility over emotions (we all saw her reaction to the news of Feysand's joint death pact in ACOSF). Like Rhys, I don't think she thinks Elain has to give Lucien a chance, but I do think she acknowledges that it would be much easier on their Court, and the dynamics between Night and whomever Lucien is tied to, if at minimum Elriel waited until after everything had settled to make their move; even better if Elain wanted to give Lucien a chance (though Amren being Amren, I don't think she'd be against Elain faking it, either).

Anyway, no hate to any of the characters mentioned - I don't like to do anti type posts, so this was just me word vomiting my answer about characters who may have complex thoughts on the results of Elain and Azriel pursuing a romance in their current political climate - so please stay respectful in the comments section.

Happy holidays! ❤️🎄❄️

#otr ask #otr anon #anon ask #elriel #pro elriel #the inner circle #fandom word vomit

[acourtofthought]

I can't copy the link so could you go in the gwynriel tag on tik tok, tap on the tik tok that basically makes fun of gwynriels for believing that the cover of CC3 stands for Gwynriel and search for this comment in the comments:

"It’s crazy cause the last time I checked the stans of the crackship had headcanoned her as a glowing singing fish. How does that translates to flame" (please censor this if you could)

And look at the whole argument I had with this person. The comments are out of order thanks to Tik tok, but to explain it all: I explained to them what a crackship is and how gwynriel isn't one. They agreed on that but basically believes that gwynriel can't happen because they have "no canon scenes" which is also not true. I started asking them to send me all the scenes that Yrene and Chaol had before their book (legit none). Told them that I could send them all the romantic scenes of the other ships like Feylin, Chaoleana etc. I tried show that sexual attraction and interest do not equal to love/ endgame, especially when after more than 2 years and everything that happened, Azriel confirmed he hadn't thought beyond the sexual fantasies. They tried to say that Azriel does care more for her as seen in the bonus chapter because it's the "same" as Nessian and I told them the difference between Nessian's chapter and Azriel. They said "So you’re saying sjm can’t write relationships with different dynamics. He felt way more than sexual tension. Even before nessian happened. Reread" which was a respond to my comment that mentioned how Elriel had always been on good terms with no tension while other endgame ships had so and that it isn't a good look for El/riel, especially after Azriel had confirmed he doesn't think beyond sexual fantasies. I still laugh at the "He felt way more than sexual tension even before Nessian happened" because CANON says Nessian and Elriel literally met on the same day and throughout acomaf Azriel had his eyes on Mor. Azriel answering Elain's question does not equal love 💀. And canon literally said that after all that suppose 5 books of elriel canon, Azriel had NOT CERTAINLY thought BEYOND sexual fantasies. Anyway, it went on with them disagreeing and telling me that I am emberassing for fighting when I tried to have a normal conversation with them (maybe yeah I was too direct), that I don't have any proof and can't read when I literally can pull out all the proof and shove it down their throat because Sjm literally wrote all that I've been saying. Also kept on saying that I don't make any sense and I'm like? Is it either because the comments are out of order so it's harder to understand or they forgot all that occured in the books? Then they started saying that the point was that Gwyn is not flame and I can't prove it so I should stop emberassing myself and I was confused about that because I never mentioned that Gwyn is flame and I certainly never agreed so what the hell was that gotcha comment about? My first comment to theirs was literally "Ships stans are always reaching but you also don't seem to know what a crackship actually is, right?" Which indicates that I don't agree with Gwynriel being shadow and flame. Again they hit with the "if you think a ship that has no scenes can happen instead of the ship that has 5 books of canon then believe what you want" and I told them that if Chaol and Yrene could then yes I believe it. Also corrected them on the 5 books of canon because it was only small scenes scattered in 3 books, not 5 full books. To end it all they told me that I can't read and should read their comments right so they don't have to repeat themselves. (Please censor this text too..)

So.. based on the false facts they have given me, I know for a fact they will be thrown off guard once gwynriel is confirmed. I constantly told them what actually happened in the books, I ever agreed that Gwynriel scenes are not romantic, but they kept on telling me I don't make sense and that El/riel care more for each other when that is not true. You could say interest or a crush, but it certainly isn't any deeper feelings nor love because azriel literally said so. It is exhausting and no use to try to have a conversation with them about ships because they're hellbent on El/riel and their suppose love. I truly cannot wait for Sjm to finally announce the ships and for them to scream "fanservice" because apperantly sexual attraction, interest and having more scenes equals to endgame when Sjm has proven otherwise so many times.

I might be a stupid and mean for showing you all this, but I wanted your opinions on this since we have the discussion about El/riels problem with holding on for their ship.

You can try reading the comments but since it's completely out of order it's gonna be a little harder to get it.

I mean, right off the bat they're obviously forgetting canon facts.

Not that the cover of CC3 has anything to do with any of the ACOTAR characters but I think what Gwynriels are saying is that if it did (as E/riels keep trying to push that it relates to Elain and Az), Gwyn and Az would be more likely than E/riel ever would.

Because canon tells us that Gwyn's grandfather is a High Fae of Autumn Court nobility. Since powerful Autumn Court members have Fire as their ability, it's common sense. Not to mention Nesta noting a "crackling" around Gwyn which could hint at that being hidden power.

But that's what they do. They choose to ignore anything that doesn't support their ship.

Your arguments to them are all spot on and really, you know everything you're saying is accurate. And I think that to some extent, they know what you're saying is accurate. But they will NEVER admit defeat. It's like telling someone water is wet but because they don't want to give you the satisfaction of being right, they'll argue that it's not forever and ever.

And I'm not sure what definition of the word they're using but a crackship is one that is implausible. Since when is a ship between two characters who smile at one another, who interact with one another on a regular basis, who are not currently in a relationship with someone, and who share the exact same language as other males ("sparked in his chest") considered a crackship? What would be disturbing about two single people, after moving on from their pasts, deciding to be together?

Really, E/riels have no where to go at this point because their arguments are all easily shot down by logic and canon. The only place that's left for them to go is a permanent state of harassing, bullying, and saying we're "stupid" and "lack reading comprehension". They're backed into a corner and they know it and that's why they're responding the way they do.

I'm attaching your second message to this one:

You're not a hypocrite because I don't think you were literally saying "it is unacceptable for you to engage with Anti's on Tik Tok. I think you were just pointing out that it never seems to get us anywhere but.... We all know we'll still continue to engage with Anti's at some point, despite how frustrating it can be. People can only take so much of seeing canon so horribly twisted before we're unable to stop ourselves from responding!

#pro gwynriel #gwynriel #anti e/riel #anti e*riel #antie/riel

[nikethestatue]

Funniest take I've seen today is Elain seeing Azriel as a rebound and Elriels not reading the whole series for not seeing the Feysand/Nessian/El*cien pattern. Pattern of women being uncomfortable around their LI, lmao, are we all really reading the same series? Because if I remember it correctly, Feyre despite hating Rhysand still gave him permission and by the end of the first book, she's able to sit with him and talk with him and in acomaf readily ran awy with him. Nesta, despite all of the hate is still physically attracted to Cassian. And Elain...? Four books and no romantic hint or build up aside from shrinking back, and wanting another male, and mention of rejecting a bond so where's the pattern? And then we are being called as hypocrites and acting like we're above all of them hahahahahahahaa that's funny

And please, Elain and Azriel's feelings literally develop from friends to crush to more serious one. In canon, Elain already moved on from Azriel so why twist it and say she's using him as a rebound? Hahaha

Elain had two choices to 'rebound' from Graysen--Az and Lucien. It's pretty clear that she decided on Az, even if Lucien was perfectly available and even mated to her. So I dont really understand the arguments--like she is NOT attracted to Lucien. The bond isn't working.

The other ships--like Rowaelin and Feysand, even Feylin and to some extent Nessian were all enemies to lovers. The spark with all of these characters was always there, from the beginning. Feyre was all 'omg, Rhys is the prettiest!' even when she technically had to be hating him. Even after he kissed her UtM, she was like, I washed my mouth 3 times...but, but...whoa, that kiss! Ok, can't think about it, can't think about it!.

with Elucien--well, the spark is non existent. I think eventually, at best, they will be friends/brother/sister kind of a relationship. If that.

Also, just like with Gwynriel, why do you want Lucien to be the #3 choice? Why don't you want him to be loved not out of obligation or necessity, but because someone simply loves him for who he is. And Elain won't ever be that person.

[viktoriakosci666]

I dont understand HOW sjm has SO many fans! Like, all those celebrities who have done a bad thing (Amber Heard, Chris Brown) or believe in something that is seen as negative and hurts other people (JK Rowling) are terrorised by the media and its people! But sjm? No, she totally didn't do ANYTHING bad or terrible! 😱

It's not like she copied other authors works and implemented them into her own story! It's not like she created the Illyrians, who are POC (apparently) only to HATE on them and make them out to be misogynistic and abusive to females?! Other authors would be getting called racist by now! It's not like she sexualized Nesta being skinny and even body shamed her in the books! It's not like she acts like her MCs are feminists, only to be brought down for a man who then impregnates them and lies to them about their life being in danger! Oh, HOW feminist of you Rhys! How feminist of you Sarah Janet MyAss! She should be getting called a misogynist, but SOMEHOW she isn't? She also makes out that woman can't be powerful unless they know how to fight! Wow. Thanks Sjm, I've always known I was weak during my fight from poverty, but it's ALWAYS good to get an amateurs opinion.

And then there's the whole Mor thing, with terrible LGBT representation. Her own fans were not sure whether Mor was a lesbian or Bisexual because she just didn't explain it well enough when writing that conversation with Feyre, as Mor states that she's attracted to both genders, and YET her reaction to her sleeping with Helion REALLY doesn't show that she's bisexual, as to me personally it seemed like she was scarred from having sex with a man instead of having sex with HELION himself.

And finally. . . 😤 ignoring the trauma of LITERALLY every character except Feyre and Rhys, despite being VERY aware that her series is popular and MANY young adults and teenagers would read these books and think 'Oh, I guess this behaviour is okay', which, it's isn't! Rhys sexually assaulting Feyre, Cassian gaslighting Nesta, Azriel being willing to screw Elain but then ditch her. . . none of that is okay! But young people don't know that and aren't aware of this, so they believe EVERY single toxic and abusive thing that sjm tells them, and THATS exactly why Feysand and Nessian still exists!

Nesta: suicidal, depressed, sexual assault victim, has been body shamed and over sexualized by her mate, has PTSD, may have a food disorder

Lucien: possibly suicidal, sexual assault victim, abused and used by LITERALLY every single person he has ever met

Tamlin: borderline depressed, PTSD, sexual assault victim, may be suicidal

SJM: Oh, that's so sad 😥! But let me just ignore this *wacks away the coloured letters* and I'll forget about it! 😚 Let's focus more on Rhys, Feyre and Gwyn!!

And I'm not invalidating Rhys, Feyre or ESPECIALLY Gwyns trauma. Gwyn SHOULD get a healing arc. But SJM completely forgot about the other threes trauma, especially Lucien and Tamlins, because she knew that if she spoke again about how poor Tamlin and Lucien are, feysand stans would be on her ass being like 'Lucien left feyre to die! Tamlin locked her up!'. But instead of giving the two characters some closure, she just decided to make them the NC's lap dogs (Nesta and the Valkyries too).

And I'm not saying this because I hate Gwyn (Love her, she deserves better than Assriel and having Eris as her grandpapa, Lucien would be a better choice) but SJM DOES kind of make what happened to Gwyn stand out more than the trauma that Nesta and Emerie went through. . . I was rereading Acosf, and I ALWAYS got a bit teary when it came to Gwyn speaking about her trauma, but with Nesta?

The fact that Thomas nearly raped her was basically GLOSSED over and Emerie having an abusive and misogyny family who clipped her was just summed up in one page (if I remember correctly) whilst mentions of what had happened to Gwyn were scattered all over the book, and since this was NESTAS journey, I was surprised at first when I first read the book (acosf), cause I didn't really care about Gwyn then, and I was just hopping from excitement about Nestas trauma being mentioned more often (since I was scared sjm would never mention her trauma again), or even handled better, but it just. . . was a lot of Feysand and Gwyn propaganda, and Nesta slander. Yeah 😭

Sjm EVEN focuses more on LoA and Helion than Lucien, Tamlin and Nesta, who ARE essentially some of the main characters 😭

Anyway, SJM ignoring all this trauma that the characters have or even acting like it isn't important, is going to teach those people that trauma should be ignored and forgotten, that if you're suicidal, NO ONE cares! If you're being body shamed, NO ONE cares! If you're being harassed or sexually assaulted, NO ONE cares! If someone is being racist to you, NO ONE cares!

And I think that THIS is why SJM should just stop WRITING BOOKS! Because people DO care about your trauma, and SJM is going to make you think otherwise. The author may not say it directly, but her work is proven to be misogynistic, racist, sexist, and as they say, 'the words and actions within a book says more about the author than the actual book'.

#anti sjm #acosf #lucien vanserra #gwyn berdara #elain archeron #tamlin #anti sarah janet maas #nesta archeron

[bookofmirth]

Hii, different anon here but I just wanted to say that I wholeheartedly agree with that other anon and your response about E/riel. You put my thoughts into words exactly lol. There was always something about E/riel that just lacked substance to me and I think it's partly because of how similar the aesthetic is to Feysand. Like we already have that and it's works. I do think Feyre has always had a little more darkness and edginess to her than Elain and I think that's why Feysand works. So far there's been nothing to really suggest to me that that's the case with Elain.

And further to what you've said about Elain and being assertive, Azriel would absolutely just enable her being a damsel in distress type character. He would assume the protector role and Elain would have nowhere to grow as a character. This doesnt do anything for either of them in my opinion  there would be no grotwth at all for either character. I think they both need people to come in and shake them up. Lucien, I think, has the potential to make Elain open up. I would love to see him be his snarky self around her and push her buttons a little bit or something to break her out of that shell, you know? I would love to see more layers to Elain's character because there's just not a lot there that interests me right now and I think Lucien could help bring that out of her. And that's not to suggest that she can't grow without a relationship of course but in the context of the two ships, Lucien presents more of a challenge and I think that's what she needs. Like, yes she killed Hybern to save her sister. She also immediately went back to doing nothing of note after that from what I recall.

Plus, I think the story between them could be so good. Like, we haven't seen a relationship develop with the already explicit knowledge of the mating bond out in the open. Rhys and the IC knew but we only got Feyres POV of all of that. Nessian danced around it and wouldn't admit it to even themselves for a while. Luciens first words to Elain were "you're my mate" or whatever. I want to see where we go from there. I think that has way more angst slow burn potential than E/riel and their supposed forbidden love or whatever. I also just personally don't care for the forbidden love trope so their whole vibe just does nothing for me that way lol.

Something else that always kind of bugs me about E/riel is that the 3 brothers, 3 sisters thing is just too easy of an ending. It comes off as a very cookie-cutter YA type ending and it's kinda boring and, (it feels a little rude to say this but 🤷🏼‍♀️), almost juvenile in a way. I would like to see more depth than that. Despite acotar being initially marketed as a fairlytale, beauty and the beast retelling, this series has become so much more than that and I just don't really want a fairytale ending, you know?

He would assume the protector role and Elain would have nowhere to grow as a character. This doesnt do anything for either of them in my opinion  there would be no grotwth at all for either character. I think they both need people to come in and shake them up.

This is 100% why I ship elucien and intensely dislike e*riel. There is just no contest in terms of which pairing would be beneficial for each characters' growth and healing. One ship would be stagnant and involve a lot of coddling. One would be challenging and enable and support growth.

And sjm literally told us there would be a lot of healing and growth with Elain and Lucien. So not only is it no contest in terms of my shipping preferences, but she's already told us, in many ways, that it's elucien. It just is.

And that's not to suggest that she can't grow without a relationship of course but in the context of the two ships, Lucien presents more of a challenge and I think that's what she needs. Like, yes she killed Hybern to save her sister. She also immediately went back to doing nothing of note after that from what I recall.

EXACTLY. We know Elain is going to have an emotional journey of her own. I think that, right now, her family relationships aren't doing it for her (Feyre and Nesta are just *shrug* about her). Her friendships aren't doing it for her. And we know that Lucien can be a pain in the ass. Either Elain's entire healing and romantic journey has somehow already happened off page (which is laughable and would do her a disservice), or someone needs to be introduced to the equation who will shake things up for her. The people who are around Elain every day are just letting her be passive. Someone who isn't around her all the time and yet has a vested interest in her thriving, needs to come into the picture.

3 brothers, 3 sisters thing is just too easy of an ending. It comes off as a very cookie-cutter YA type ending and it's kinda boring and, (it feels a little rude to say this but 🤷🏼‍♀️), almost juvenile in a way.

Can I add that it's weirdly limiting, for everyone involved? Considering that Nesta, Feyre, and Elain don't even get along that well as friends, they mainly tolerate each other, the whole 3 brothers 3 sisters thing feels like a fake, forced family. Not to mention the three "brothers" have some gay vibes that are canon in acosf. It's weird. Not even sorry, but it is.

The sisters/brothers thing would fit the fairy tale vibes, if that hadn't been ditched 2.5 books ago.

#elucien #elain #lucien #az #antielriel #ask #anon #acotar

[rosenecklaces]

Nesta for the trivia game

Ohh this one is interesting let me activate my brain

First impression: It was kind of... weird, how I felt with nesta because I do not hated her and even felt she had some internal range/frustration that she just didn't know how to manage accordingly ( or sjm didn't bothered to flesh out more) but she was verbally abusive of feyre indeed and while reading i wished we knew of the why, why feyre, what happened to make her say things to her like that?

Impression now: Boyyy is even more weird LOL, ACOSF was so messy my god and I hate we kind of lost what the other books gave us about her and hinted at. But ok, coming back to Nesta, I like her a little more (surprisingly) and I do felt for her in some occasions (the way she handled her trauma, the sleeping with strangers without taking care of herself, the alcoholism, the spending money holding a grudge) it was very raw in that part and it was an interesting take on her and how mental illness/low self worth affects someone. That being said, im still waiting for her apology to Feyre and Elain ( her comments of their dad and she being a dog where heavy as hell), im glad she saved Feyre but they 100% still would have this tense bond if they don't fucking talk and Nesta explain to her + elain how she felt all those years knowing she couldn't provide for them and recognize aloud the damage she made on her hatring wage

Favorite moment: I hate how most characters think she was the one who attacked hybern and proceeded to kill him BUT I loved she beheading, loved this kind of team effort with elain it was so good. Also when she used the golden mask, I tought I was gonna get tired of all the girlbossing warrior moments but that was A Moment okey. Gonna say her soft side with cassian got me, they had this wild sex driven attraction but when they cared for eachother and she said "my mate taught me well"? That's the good shit I came for + The "never again, never again" scene

Idea for a story: TO HER TO BE LADY DEATH AGAIN GOD. why the hell she lost so damn cool powers I hate it here give me necromancer nesta again sjm. Also I would love reading something about her and her sisters traveling together for a good while, just getting away from velaris and other people and spending time together, would like nesta collecting books from everywhere

Unpopular opinion: The valkyries thing... it was so cheap tbh, it could had be handled better or you know, not make nesta a warrior but a diplomatic character, I think she would had learned more fluently and manage night court exterior affairs, it would also helped her connect more with feyre, making her see that it is not easy to direct and take care of a whole court and maybe getting the animosity and hate for rhysand dissappear or be presented as them not settling down with their opinions and what each thinked of how things should be done. I also don't understand how she viewed emerie and gwyn as her new sisters like girl you barely know this girls and wherent you wary of everyone who gets close to you not long ago? 😭 it was kind of strange to me, same with her friendship with azriel, it came of thin air with the strand being "they both see eachother and don't judge and they are both feared" nesta wasn't feared like he is??? But ok sjm weird flex

Favorite relationship: as much as I have my complaints about how nessian was handled, I'll give it to them when they have a moment to shine they shine, that's why I can't hate nessian even if acosf was imperfect, she is lady death and him lord of bloodshed he is her knight and she thinks she doesn't deserve him while cass fears to lose her and idc I love it I can excuse their messiness because the good stuff was enough to keep me hooked. I also like some nestaemerie, I feel their friendship was way more genuine than gwyn/nesta, and as I said I hope we get more of archeron sisters bonding we had too little of them but I still root for this dysfunctional sisterhood (I also crackship her with vassa, it could be interesting seeing them interact)

Favorite headcanon: I think nesta can heard/comunicate with the deceased even after losing her powers, I like to think some piece of it is still there deep inside her. I also think she wouldn't marry, I don't see her as the type ( maybe if cassian ask her and seem excited for it? And still I doubt that) I can see her with one child or adopting. Even if I preferred she wasn't a warrior, I think Nesta would be General of NC one day, I see her alongside Cassian directing troops + the Valkyries, she could also be a "professor" in the library for future Valkyries that wants to learn more of battlefield planning, maps, nurses in battle, sword crafting etc. I wanttttt short haired Nesta so bad is a NEED, like I really think she would be the one pulling a sick as fuck haircut. I also think she would win more scars as time passes and wears them with pride, be by training and in battles ( a scar crossing her lip/eye could be sexy)

#ask tag #nesta archeron

[legends-and-savages]

Tag Dump

#Queen Without a Throne {Visage} #c;; Nesta Archeron #h;; Nesta Archeron #Nesta things #v; In Charge {Pre-Series} #v; Anger A Lifeline Cruelty A Release {ACOTAR} #v; Made It Give Something Back {ACOMAF} #v; Do Not Fit the Mold {ACOWAR} #v; Broken and Not Hiding it Well {ACOFAS} #v; Give it All Back {ACOSF} #v; Never Again Be Weak {AU} #Dresses as Weapons {Wardrobe} #Can't Say That I Love You But I Do with My Whole Being {Nessian} #Not My Little Flower Anymore {Nesta and Elain} #Sisters of Steel {Nesta and Feyre} #Rebirth of the Valkyries {Nesta Gwyn and Emerie} #Shares a Love of Books {Nesta and Gwyn} #Helped Each Other When We Needed It {Nesta and Emerie} #Understood Me First {Nesta and Amren}

[talkfantasytome]

I dont know if Im allowed to send a part three prompt but Im going to anyway and Im just gonna hope for the best but Gwynriel and Nessians brand new babies meeting for the first time and all the parents just "🥺" the whole time

My ask box is open to requests, so pretty much anything is "allowed". LOL And I love this! Although, brand new babies really can't do much, so I made this more a piece of the story than the focus. 👀 It's very heavily Nessian, cause I've just been feeling very Nessian recently. But, it's also fluff on fluff on fluff, so that's something. 😂

It's been the most amazing two months after Nesta and Cassian welcomed their daughter to the world. And now she's finally able to meet Gwyn and Az's son for the first time. But Cassian remembers what day it is and has some other plans as well.

Word Count: 2,750 | Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: F.L.U.F.F.

Seriously, that's all this thing is. There's, like, maybe one sentence that could be considered angsty. Literally.

a/n: If you missed my earlier reblog, I decided that "Build a Life With Me" is the prequel to this, so it's all the same AU. It allowed me to be fluffier and sappier. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My Candy - Part 3

A screaming cry barreled through the house, shrill and heartbreaking.

It had Nesta up instantaneously. She shuffled toward the stairs without even thinking, pausing at the bottom of them as she spotted Cassian walking down, the wailing bundle in his arms.

"I think someone's hungry," he declared, wearing the same goofy grin that hasn't left his face since their daughter was born.

Nesta huffed a small laugh, taking a step back and holding her arms out. "She must be if she's crying while in your arms."

It came as no surprise to Nesta that Eirena was already a total daddy's girl, never happier than when she was being held by him. Not that Nesta could blame her for that…she clearly took after her mother in that regard.

Their daughter squirmed slightly as she was handed off into Nesta's arms, as if she was curious her problem would be solved with just this movement. But her screams continued within a second as Nesta made her way over to the couch.

"No patience."

Cassian chuckled, standing behind where she sat and resting his hands on her shoulders. "Just another thing she gets from you, sweetheart."

"I am extremely patient!" she argued. She began to unbutton the top of her shirt with one hand as she cradled Eirena in the other arm.

"Yes, dear." He began to rub her shoulders as she finally got her shirt loose enough to bring their daughter's head up to her breast. Luckily, one thing that was never much of a challenge was breast feeding. She was a hungry little thing.

She felt Cassian's weight shift, his hands stilling as his breath caressed her neck. "You know, I could always help you with your buttons," he whispered, pressing a kiss just below her ear, right in that spot that sent her heart racing.

"With our daughter literally in my arms?" she countered, turning her head to find his right next to hers, his eyes boring into her own.

He nodded, his smile growing playful.

"Cass, I think we're going to scar our children enough in their lives. Let's at least give her a few months before we start."

"Children?" His eyebrows rose as his entire face perked up. "As in plural?"

"If you're lucky."

One of Cassian's hands lifted to hold the back of Nesta's head as he lunged forward, pressing a kiss to her lips in a way that had her smiling with him. They couldn't hold the kiss long with their grins, but it didn't spoil the moment. Not as Cassian rested his forehead against hers and breathed in deeply. "You can't say stuff like that to me in front of our daughter if your goal is to avoid scarring her."

Nesta laughed softly, tilting her head to give him a quick peck. "She might be a bit too young to be worrying about that."

"All these rules you set. So complicated." He brushed his nose against her neck and then nipped softly at her ear.

"I'd get used to it. It'll only get worse with another girl in the house."

He beamed at her before his gaze drifted to the dark-haired head still at her mother's breast, his smile only growing. "I think I'll be okay."

Nesta felt a heat build behind her eyes as she placed her forehead to his temple. It was moments like these that made it hard to believe her life was real. With her baby girl in her arms, and Cassian beside her, it was a literal dream come true. She never thought, all those years ago, when he laid out his ideas for their life together on their first date, that she'd actually be lucky enough to get it. But now, here she was, it was perfect.

Well, nearly perfect.

A quick glance at the hand holding her daughter's head reminded her there was still one thing she wanted. One promise unfulfilled that she was ready for.

Small, gurgling noises sounded, Eirena licking her lips with her too-big tongue, full and content, and likely in need of a nice belch.

"Hand me a burp cloth?" Nesta requested, wiping herself off with a tissue before doing herself up again.

Cassian grabbed a cloth from the pile beneath the bassinet they kept downstairs, but he didn't hand it to her. "Can I burp her, please?"

"No." She held out her free hand, waiting.

"But I haven't been able to burp her successfully once!"

"I know. It's my thing, and it's my only thing. Please let me have this." She pushed her lips out into a small pout that had Cassian handing the cloth over to her.

She flashed him a grateful smile and then threw it over her shoulder, standing up and pushing her daughter further up so she could see over Nesta's shoulder. She turned her back to her boyfriend, knowing how much her daughter liked to look at her father whenever she could.

And so began the routine. Nesta bouncing and patting, and Cassian cheering Eirena on with soft phrases like "you can do it" and "burp for daddy".

It was only a minute or so before Nesta felt her daughter's stomach expand as a throaty sound erupted from her lips. She really did have ridiculously loud burps for such a tiny body.

"Wooo! That's my girls!" Cassian exclaimed, as proud as if he'd just watched his daughter make the winning shot in a championship hockey match.

Nesta shook her head, a small laugh huffing out of her as she pulled another, smaller burp from their daughter.

"There, she should be all good for her playdate."

"Playdate?"

Adjusting so she was now cradling her daughter, she turned to Cassian. "Yes, with Az, Gwyn, and their son. Remember?"

"Right!" He snapped his fingers with the word, nodding emphatically. "Still can't believe the babies haven't met yet."

"We had to wait," Nesta reminded him. "Make sure they both got their whooping cough vaccines."

"Still seems weird."

"It'd be weirder if Gwyn and Az hadn't met her."

Cassian let out a breathy chuckle as he walked over to Nesta, placing his hand on their daughter's head and stroking her softly with his thumb. "That's true."

As if on command, they heard a knock at the door, followed by the sound of it opening and a ringing, "Hello!"

"In here!" Nesta called, still bouncing to keep their daughter placated.

"Hi!!" Gwyn all but burst into the room, a massive smile on her face. A far more subdued Az a few steps behind, carrying a car seat.

She gave them each a quick hug before flitting back to Az's side as he set the seat down and picked up his son.

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Gwyn was literally jumping up and down.

"Darling, you do know that they won't actually be able to do much, right?" Az asked through a laugh.

She flicked him a flat glare. "Yes, I'm aware. But they can't say they shared a crib if they never actually shared a crib."

Nesta's daughter began to squirm, her face scrunching in a way that said she was getting sleepy. "Speaking of…it is nap time."

"Introductions first!" Gwyn demanded.

Nesta and Az both rolled their eyes as they walked toward each other, babies in their arms.

Once close enough, Nesta tilted her arms enough to give her daughter a view of the three-week-older boy. "This is Caron," she said, as if her daughter would actually remember his name from this encounter.

"And this is Eirena," Az added, doing the same with this son.

The two babies looked at each other, blinking.

It was extremely anticlimactic, as Nesta knew it would be, but she was happy to be bringing them together. To get to really spend time with Gwyn and Az - or, at least, spend a full naptime with them.

She handed Eirena to Cassian, knowing he'd be able to rock her to sleep faster, and then made her way back to Gwyn as the two men tried to lull their children to sleep.

With her arms free, Nesta gave her friend a proper hug before sitting down on the couch with her. "So, how are you?"

"We're great," Gwyn beamed. "Amazing, actually. I mean, I'm tired constantly, getting very little sleep, but I couldn't be happier."

Nesta couldn't help but smile back at her. "I know the feeling."

A sudden shout burst through the room that had Nesta's head snapping up. "Cassian?"

He was already walking back to Nesta, a frustrated glint in his eyes. "I don't know what you did, but she seems to be switching sides," he groused as Nesta stood up.

She had to bite down on her lip to not smile too widely. "I didn't do anything."

"You did! And I'll figure out what and get her back, but for now…"

Nesta nodded and took her daughter back into her arms, smiling softly at her. Big, blue eyes stared back up at Nesta as she rocked Eirena, the baby's blinks growing longer with every minute.

She loved it when her daughter fell asleep in her arms. Nesta knew they weren't supposed to do that, knew they were supposed to try and keep their child on as close to a sleep schedule as they could, which meant dressing her for bed and putting her in her bassinet at a certain time each night and letting her fall asleep on her own. But Nesta hated doing that. Hated missing out on the opportunity to rock her to sleep herself, or watch Cassian do it.

One big yawn, and it was only another minute until Eirena was sleeping soundly.

She placed her daughter in the bassinet, moving her a bit to the side to give room for Caron, who Az rested next to Eirena quickly.

"We'll have to make sure someone always has an eye on them," Nesta whispered. "I don't think we're supposed to have babies so young sleeping so close."

Az nodded, his eyes as glued to their children as hers were. They both had tufts of onyx hair covering their heads, Caron's a bit longer, and plump baby cheeks that were slightly rosy. However, Caron was paler than Eirena, looking more a dark olive than the light brown skin Eirena had inherited almost entirely from Cassian. She really was only a shade or two lighter than her father, whereas Caron had clearly become more a mix of his parents.

They watched them sleep, their little chests rising and falling evenly. It truly was precious, to see them together, even if nothing was actually happening.

But they were sleeping. Next to each other. And that seemed to count for something in Nesta's heart.

She heard hushed whispers behind her, Cassian and Gwyn conspiring about something. She was about to turn and let Az keep an eye on them when she saw Eirena's head move slightly.

It wasn't much. Just a slight shift. And then another. And another. Just as Caron did the same. Until finally their heads were angled toward each other, the strands of their hair tangling together. It had Nesta inhaling sharply, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

She couldn't look away. Not even as a deep voice asked, "What are you two staring at?"

"Come see for yourself," she offered, holding out a hand for Cassian to take as he walked up to the bassinet.

He peeked inside and let out a gentle laugh, letting go of Nesta's hand to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

She heard a soft gasp from the other side of the cradle and looked up to see Gwyn was standing beside Az, her teal gaze focused on their babies. Nesta couldn't help but smile to herself as she let her eyes fall back to the sleeping infants.

Nesta was far too preoccupied to see the look Cassian and Gwyn exchanged, or to notice exactly what Cassian did when he let go of her and stepped away.

It was at least a minute before she finally tore her eyes away. "Cassian? Where'd-"

She cut herself off as she turned around to see that Cassian hadn't gone far, but was just a couple feet away, in front of her on one knee, holding up an open ring box. Inside was a platinum band with a princess cut grey diamond, a sparkling ruby on each side of it.

Nesta felt herself freeze, her eyes wide, her heart pounding as she looked between the ring and Cassian. His own eyes were bright and hopeful, his face soft save for that one crease on his forehead that told her he was nervous.

He swallowed and then began to speak. "Nesta, since the day we met I've known that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It took me a while to convince you to even give me a chance, but once you did I knew I could never go back. You infuriate the hell out of me, and I love every second of it. You challenge and question me, and I am a better man for it. You literally thrill me. You brighten my mood just by walking into the room, and there is nothing I love more than making you laugh or smile."

The pooling tears were now flowing from Nesta's eyes, but she couldn't stop herself.

"Eight years ago, exactly, I told you that we were going to build a life together, and you said you thought you wanted that." Nesta felt her bottom lip fall from her top. "Well, we've started doing just that, and it's better than I ever could have imagined. I made a few assumptions that day, but more importantly I made a few promises, and I've fulfilled them all…save one. The very first one I made. I still don't care if it takes another fifty years or if you want to run off and do it tonight. I just want you to know that I'm here for good, with you and the family we create.

"So, Nesta Archeron, will you help me fulfill this final promise? Will you marry me?"

She took in a quivering breath, her body trembling from excitement or love or shock or a combination of the three and a thousand other feelings she couldn't name as all the thoughts eddied from her mind. Everything disappeared, except him. Except the man who'd stood by her for far longer than she ever thought someone would. The man who loved and cherished her, who held her close and made her feel safe whenever she was in his arms. The man who fathered her daughter, who adored and spoiled Eirena as much as he did her mother.

Her eyes remained on his as she fought to find the words, to find her voice. He never faltered. He didn't twitch or squirm. He stayed where he was, kneeling, the ring held out for her as if he was offering her his heart. Only he couldn't, because she already owned that, just as he owned hers.

Finally, her lips curved upward as she nodded, gasping out a wet, "Yes!" as she flung herself at him.

The force of the impact knocked him backwards onto the ground, but it didn't stop his arm from snaking around her. And it didn't stop Nesta from pressing her lips to his as they fell.

Cassian chuckled into her, silver beginning to line his own eyes as she pulled away just enough to look at him. To hold out her left hand over him.

She felt his arms move, his hands fiddling with the ring box over her body, and then the ring was free and he was sliding it onto her finger as he stared into her eyes, the flecks of gold sparkling brightly in the brown and green collage.

It fit perfectly, sliding right into place, but Nesta refused to look away from his gaze as he wrapped his hand around hers and held it to his chest.

"I love you, Cass," she whispered, brushing her free fingers through his hair softly.

His smile grew impossibly wider as he lifted his head to give her a kiss. "I love you, too, Nes."

She kissed him again, savoring the softness of his lips before she dragged her own from his and brought them to his ear. "And to answer your earlier question, yes. Children, as in plural."

a/n: Please don't come at me about the ring if you disagree. I did not spend a tonnnn of time thinking about it, so it is not a hill I'll die on or even attempt to hold. It's just the concept that came to mind while writing this. If I write another proposal fic, it may be a different ring. IDK. XD

Their daughter's name is derived from the name "Eirene", who is the ancient Greek Goddess of Peace/the personification of peace. So, the name means "peace". IDK if I'll keep it. My next gen fic has a different name for their daughter, but it's a very different situation. I just needed something for this cause I didn't want to use that name, and I like this concept. 😄

For Gwynriel, Caron is a Welsh name that means 'love'. It's unisex according to the website I used, so if you've only heard it as a girl's name...well, now you've heard both.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @sv0430 @confusedfandomslut @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @whoreforgwynriel @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams

If you'd like to be added to my Nessian taglist, or another one, let me know!

#nessian #nessian fic #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian #nesta and cassian #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #acosf fic #fluff #it's all fluff #fanfic fluff #nessian fluff #modern au #nessian modern au #nessian fanfiction #nessian baby #baby girl #gwynriel #gwynriel baby