The Inner Circle: Nesta we’ve heard a lot about you and we think you are a terrible person

Nesta: that’s okay, I don’t like you either

The Inner Circle:

I'll Be Seeing You {9}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @theladyofdeath.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1919

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

January 14, 1941

Nesta,

It has been a long few weeks. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting, but I promised I’d write to you as soon as I reached my men. And that was my intention, but battle had other plans.

Within hours of reuniting, we were met with a group from Hybern that was scouting deep into Winter. We suffered a few losses of good men, but thankfully, we were better prepared than they were. We’ll be staying here for another few days to tend to our wounded before moving on, but we’ll be staying within Winter. From what I can tell, we seem to be moving towards Spring. Many of my men are excited about the prospect of warm weather, but I’m getting itchy just thinking about it.

I received a letter from one of my brothers the other day. He’s stationed near Night, and had heard from one of his higher ups about my injury. I received quite the scolding from him about my carelessness, but I made sure to tell him about the wonderful care I received while in the med camp. And about the headstrong nurse who refused to let me wallow in my self-pity.

I still haven’t heard where my other brother is stationed. That mystery remains, though it’s not uncommon for him to keep us in the dark.

Have you heard from your sisters recently? I hope they're doing well and you told them of me and our time together. In my absence, I am certain that all you do is talk about the handsome major you met and healed and sent back to war.

Don’t worry, I don’t blame you. If I were you, I’d constantly talk about me, too.

In all seriousness, Nesta, I hope you’ve had an easy week. I’ve heard of the numbers rising on our side and hope the attacks have not been too close to you and your station. However, if they are close to you, I know that they are in good hands. I think of you often and I hope you are taking care of yourself. My thoughts of you have been keeping me company.

My thoughts of you, and this damned book you sent with me.

I don’t know how often you’ve reread the books you’ve got, but I’m on my third read and I’m amazed by how it hits me each time. I know the story by heart now, yet it’s like I’ve never read it before. I’ve also started receiving shit from more than one of my privates over reading a love story while we’re on a battlefield. I fashioned a book cover of sorts from leather so my masculinity can be held intact.

Though nothing will compare to the story of Daisy and Alexander Hillsworth. I’ll have to keep that memory fresh in my mind until I can buy my own copy whenever I get home. Since you so selfishly took yours back before I left.

Nesta, we’re going to be moving soon - and heading into battle. There’s word of an enemy legion camped to the south and my higher ups think we can manage an ambush with enough surprise. I don’t know when I’ll be able to write or exactly where we’ll be stationed before or afterward, but if you address your letters to my battalion and send it with the supply trucks, someone will make sure it gets to me. I promise.

Missing you everyday,

Major Cassian Nazari

***

December 20, 1942

Dear Cassian,

I am tired of the war. I had a dream last night that it was all over. There were people dancing on the streets to big band music and everyone had a drink of their hand, raising it in victory. Hybern had been defeated and our men came home safe. I was sad when I woke up to the continued sound of dying men.

I know I should not complain, that you have it much worse than me, but I know that you would tell me it’s okay to complain, so here I am.

I hope that you are safe and that you have a few days of peace for the holidays. Remember what Christmas was like before the war? My sisters and I used to buy each other gifts from local vendors after my mother died. I wonder if they still do that for one another in my absence.

Our recent supply brought in fresh meat and vegetables, rather than the usual dried provisions we’ve been receiving. There’s talks of making an actual Christmas dinner, though I’m sure I won’t be a part of that. I’m a disaster in the kitchen. My sister, Elain, though, she’s a dream.

I received a letter from her last spring, around my birthday. She and my youngest sister managed to send me two new books, ones that even I had never read. I think you’d like one of them. It’s about a headstrong young man who constantly feels the need to be in the space and life of a young woman. I don’t want to spoil any of it for you, but if given the chance, you should read it.

Have you heard any more from your brothers recently? I’m grateful you’ve received word from one of them, now. Hopefully you’ll hear from the other soon. I know that must be trying for you. Perhaps we can consider that a Christmas gift in itself.

I do hope you’re staying warm. It’s even snowing here, and I long for the warmth of sunshine. I wish I could send you some blankets. Maybe if I bribe the drivers of the next supply truck they will toss you a couple extra. I’m told I can be very convincing.

Stay safe, Cassian. Write back soon.

Nesta

P.s. Madja played chess with me yesterday. It just wasn’t the same.

August 18, 1943

***

The Ever Esteemed Nurse Nesta,

You’re not the only ones who have dreams of returning to normalcy. Just last night, I had one myself of being back home in Velaris, of looking up and seeing the stars and hearing the Sidra snake by.

Have you decided what the first thing you’ll be doing when you return home is? I have. It’s stupid and foolish, but I haven’t stopped thinking about it in days. I want to sit down with my brothers in our favorite diner and have a burger and shake. I think it was your talks of a Christmas feast, so you’re to blame if I get distracted on the battlefield thinking about delicious, home cooked food.

We’re officially in Spring now. I should be happy it isn’t Winter anymore, or even Summer with its heat. It’s very mild here, almost pleasant some days, with its breezes and cooler temperatures. But the allergies? I could do without them.

If I’m being honest, I’ve nearly forgotten what Velaris looks like. I remember the beautiful starlight and glittering Sidra, of course, but picturing it in my mind? It’s become rather difficult. It’s like after you don’t see someone for a long while, or someone dies, and you slowly begin to forget their facial features. Velaris is beginning to blur like that for me, and it saddens me.

As for the action, it’s been slow. There have been very few attacks in the last month, which is nice, but it makes everyone a little bit more paranoid. They think it’s because Hybern is planning something big. I like to think it’s because they’re getting tired and their numbers are too low, which means that the end of the war will be here before we know it. Fingers crossed.

One of my men recently received a care package from his family. It was filled with many of the comforts of home, much like the one we got while I was with you in the camps. But it also held a few unexpected things as well. Decks of cards and small games that could be played around the fires before we settle down for the night.

And a chess board.

I’ve been teaching a few of the men to play, though I’m sure I’m messing a few of the rules up, and the games have been entertaining to say the least. But as you said after your game with Madja, it’s not the same. The distractions are welcome, though, and I’m glad to help the men take their minds off the battles ahead in any way that I can.

As for those extra blankets, I’ve not seen hide nor hair of them from the supply trucks. I guess you aren’t as convincing as you thought. I think you owe me, Nurse Nesta. There have been more than a few nights that I would have appreciated an extra blanket or two. You’ll have to make it up to me somehow.

Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll think of something.

Thinking of you always,

Cassian

***

October 1, 1944

My Dearest Cassian,

There are a thousand things I want to tell you, but all I can think about is this: the war is over! Can you believe it? It’s all finally over!

We just received word and the whole camp is a party. Even the injured are drinking and singing and celebrating. They say Hybern surrendered and we will keep peace in our lands. You did it, Cassian. You and your fellow men, you have kept Prythian safe and now we get to return home.

I assume you will waste no time going back to Velaris. You will have to write to me and tell me how the streets were lined with people to welcome you home. I cannot wait to go south to my village and see my sisters. Since I do not know of your home address, I hope this letter reaches you in time. You may write back to me at my father’s address. I will include it at the end of this letter.

They’re saying the final battle took place in Spring, that Hybern dropped their weapons on a bloody battlefield and surrendered right there. I know it seems foolish, but I can’t help but imagine you were one of the ones they surrendered to.

You may not have even been on that battlefield, but everything we have to celebrate, we owe to you and the men who fought for us. You and your brothers.

I’m sure one of the first things you’ll be doing is finding your brothers. I don’t blame you. I hope it’s the happiest reunion you’ve ever had. And I hope that they’re just as strong as you. I’m sure the party in the streets of Velaris will last for days. My village doesn’t have the resources for a days-long celebration, but I’m sure it will be exciting regardless.

One day, I’d like to visit Velaris. Maybe when I do, you could show me around the city. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about it. Who knows, maybe I’ll even want to stay for good.

There will be a few nurses staying behind to tend to the wounded until they can travel. Since my village isn’t too far from Autumn, I have volunteered to do so, letting those who have farther to travel leave first. If you have to travel through, maybe I shall see you. Maybe I won’t. It would be a treat to do so, if we were given the opportunity.

I hope you get your burger and shake as soon as you get home.

Yours,

Nesta

Look, I'm a HUGE Elriel fan, but someone has to address this.

There are some Elriel scenes that are SLIGHTLY toxic for the ship.

For example, in acofas, then the IC and Elain were eating, Feyre is thinking that Azriel was looking at Elain with pity, and I think that it is mentioned quite a few times he doing so. And then, we have Azriel telling the IC that the trove has a inner darkness that Elain shouldn't be exposed to, and I'm really sorry to say this, but I think he's seeing her as a fragile person. (And then Amren puts him in his place by saying that Elain can defend herself against it. I really enjoyed that part.)

I don't think that this is a reason why Elriel shouldn't happen. I think that Az is aware of Elain being stronger than she looks, but at the same time he doesn't know her; We don't know her. My theory is that in their book, we we'll see how Elain is dealing (or not) with her trauma, and our shadowsinger will understand her better.

Due to the comments (that I expected to have) in this post, I have to say : I DON'T BELIEVE THAT BEING SYMPATHETIC IS BAD. I believe that looking someone with pity, isn't sympathetic. If anything, it makes this person worse. AND I DON'T SAY THAT AZ SHOULDN'T BE CONCERNED ABOUT ELAIN. I merely mention that, as Amren herself stated, Elain can defend herself. I NEVER SAID IT WAS TOXIC; I said SLIGHTLY toxic. There is a huge difference.

Maybe I used wrong choices in words, or maybe I finally arrived at the 'NOT SYMPATHETIC' side of the Elriel fandom.

Or both. Have a blessed day 💮🌸

Okay, but can you imagine a Gwynriel mating ceremony with the Valkyrie ribbon as the ribbon that ties their hands together? Because I can and its f*cking adorable.

...

And if that ribbon happens to play a part in any kinky sexy times, I won't be mad...

is it too much to ask for there to just already be a moment when lucien finally finds out his real father is helion and we get the whole “he may have been your father but he ain’t your daddy” speech as they float to the ground like mary fucking poppins?

ACOTAR - Feyre dies

ACOMAF - True Love 💕

ACOWAR - Rhys died

ACOFAS - Baby time 👶

ACOSF - Feyre & Nyx die

… Is this a pattern? Can we expect no deaths in the next book then?

Incorrect Order Chapter 7 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: none ig

2097 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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Wearing a tee is fairly simple. Just bunch it up and pull it over his neck, then, put his arms through. That's it. This is the third time he was trying to get himself in this damn t-shirt. The first time, he wore it the other way round. The next time he accidentally tried putting his neck where his arm was meant to go. He got snarled in the t-shirt in the process. It's a miracle the garment hadn't ripped off. His brushed hair also got mussed and tangled in the process.

Cassian sighed and held his dark brown tee up. His mind was still playing his memories with Nesta on loop. It just wouldn’t stop. Not when he was sulking, bathing, changing—

The doorbell rang. A quick glance at his wall clock confirmed that the hour was ungodly enough that most would be asleep. Wondering who exactly it was, Cassian opened the door—

—and his mind blanked out. There, standing in front of him, in all her glory was Nesta. Nesta, who had snapped at him earlier. Nesta in a white oversized sweater and black tight-fit leggings. A small bag was slung on her shoulder. He was pretty sure he was gawking like an idiot. He forced his mouth to shape her name.

***

“Nesta,” he breathed. Nesta could hear awe and reverence in his voice. So much that she shivered. There was pain in his voice too. Tears pricked her eyes. How selfish of her to run to him even after she hurt him. But she couldn’t turn away. Not now, not after walking from her home to here. She closed her eyes and swallowed. His bare torso didn’t help matters either. His torso was a wonderful masterpiece. His tattoos were starker in the moonlight. She longed to trace them with her fingers. Nesta immediately shut that train of thought. She didn’t come here for that. She came here because of Tomas. That’s it.

Cassian was peering over her shoulders when she opened her eyes. Frowning, he asked, “How did you come here? Has your cab left?”

“No,” she said. “I walked here.” His eyes snapped to her face. He took a step back and opened the door wider, “Come in,” he said.

Nesta could feel his eyes on her while she stepped through the threshold and took her time to look through his house. It wasn’t as big as Feyre’s but it was bigger than her apartment. She saw a rumpled t-shirt discarded on the dark blue couch and reigned in a smile. She heard the click of the lock and turned to face him. He looked at her and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further. Her eyes tracked the wispy strands moving in between his slender, long fingers. Cauldron, she thought, this was going to be very difficult, indeed.

He nodded at the couch, “Have a seat. You must be tired. How long was the walk?” he queried.

She took her seat on the soft couch and replied, “Around half an hour including a short break I took.”

He nodded. The pained expression, mixed with one of longing, didn't leave his face yet. “Why are you here Nesta? Truly? Just a few hours ago, you were screaming in my face and now, you’re in my house looking rattled. What do you want?”

Nesta stared at her hands resting on her lap, took in a ragged breath and said, “Tomas.”

The shock was evident on his face. “Tomas?” he repeated. She saw as the shock on his face bled and became anger. “Did he disturb you again?” he demanded.

“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “No. He wasn’t really even there. I was on my bed. Trying to get some sleep. I couldn’t sleep, I kept tossing and turning on my bed. Sleep felt so far away. But after sometime I think I fell asleep. Then I felt like I woke up. It was bright. It all felt weird to me. And that was when I saw him. He was in my room. His hand was around my neck, squeezing. He was talking and talking.” The words were gushing out of her now, a panicked flow of words. She continued, “Then he slapped me. He also had a knife with him. He kept threatening me. Telling me about the way he said he wanted to kill me. And—and he used his knife on me. He stabbed my arm and kept dragging upward slowly. It hurt like hell. That was what I didn’t understand. The pain. It all felt very real. Most of all, my pain.” She looked back at Cassian. He was silently listening, she was grateful for that. “That’s why I came here,” she admitted. “I got scared. The vulnerability I felt… I want to be ready when he comes back. And he will come back. He isn’t the type to let things go. I need your help. Help me,” she pleaded. She wasn’t aware of the tear escaping her eye.

Cassian got up and seated himself beside her. He cupped her cheek. Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him. He gently brushed her tears away. “I’ll help you,” he said gently. “You’ll be ready. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. I’ll make sure of it. Only if you call me Cass.”

She grinned. “That wouldn’t be very difficult,” she said.

***

Cassian felt like he was selling his soul in a bargain to the devil. He knew. He knew that this wouldn’t end well for him. He knew he’ll end up having his heart broken. But he couldn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to her.

Nesta wrapped her arms around his middle. He froze. The sensation of her hands on his bare skin was a shock to his senses and elicited a shiver down his spine. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much. Really.” she gave him a playful smile. “Cass,”she said with more emphasis than necessary. And Mother, he didn’t regret letting her call him Cass one bit.

She yawned and stretched like a cat. He liked that too, he decided.

“Have you slept?” he asked.

“A bit. You?”

He shook his head. He gestured to her to follow him up the stairs. “You can sleep here till dawn in Mor’s room. You know, the room you used the last time.”

“Cass,” she said. He halted, turning back to face her. “I really need to say this. I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have said what I did last night.”

He didn’t say it’s okay because it really wasn’t. He just nodded, acknowledging her apology, showing her that he couldn’t forget how much it hurt him but he’ll try to come to terms with both of their mistakes. They reached Mor’s door.

She hesitated. “I don’t have any clothes to change to,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Mor’s clothes would fit you, though it would be slightly loose. You can also use the bathroom to wash up or anything else you want to do. I’ll be in the room down the corridor—” he said, gesturing to the second last door— “so just knock if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded and thanked him again before closing the door and preparing for bed. He entered his room and plopped on the bed. It might’ve been how tired he felt or it might have been her presence two rooms away, but in mere minutes, Cass was fast asleep.

***

A few fast and hard knocks on his door woke Cassian from his sleep. Groggily, he opened the door to find Nesta in a tank top and shorts. Very short shorts. She looked disturbed, though.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, her voice small.

Cassian’s heart, or at least, what was left of it, broke. He hated to see this. Cold, sharp Nesta now, standing in front of him, scared and afraid. He felt a surge of protectiveness in him. He wanted to tuck her to his side and shield her from every and any harm that would come to her.

He held his hand out for her and brought her into his room. “Sit,” he gestured to his bed, “What do you want to do?”

She smiled tentatively, “Would you tell me about yourself? We haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I think I want to hear more about you from you yourself. And if you want… I could tell you some things about myself too.”

He sat on the bed beside her and said, “That’ll be fun.” He saw this not only as a means to escape the horrid things in her head, but also as a peace offering. He couldn’t forgive and forget the things she told him earlier but he could try to play along with her patching up.

“Who’s gonna start first?” she asked.

He dramatically placed his hand on his bare chest in a variation of a bow and said, “After you, my lady.”

She laughed and asked, “Do you ever wear a shirt at home?”

“Why? Getting distracted already?”

“Can’t you just answer my question?” she asked hotly, though a light blush was creeping up her cheeks.

The corner of his lips kicked up a notch, “I do wear shirts at home.”

“Good,” she said and opened her mouth to continue when he interrupted her.

“Wait,” he said, “Now, you haven’t answered my question.”

“I didn’t deem it worthy enough to answer.”

He pouted, “You wound me, Nes.”

“Stop being overdramatic. And don’t call me Nes!” she snapped half heartedly.

“Twice,” aggrievedly, he said, “you wounded me twice. Also,” he smirked, leaning closer to her, “you like it.”

“Like which?”

“Being called Nes.”

“I don’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now you’re the one who’s getting distracted. What did we plan for and what are we doing now? If this is how things are gonna be, I think you’ll prove to be a very bad teacher.”

“Now, Nes, you need to know that I’m good at many, many things and would prove to be an extremely focused teacher,” he said, voice husky. He knew she caught his meaning when the blush on her cheeks deepened. He leaned back on his palms, “Go on.”

So she spoke. She told him of her time when both her parents were alive; of the time when they grieved their mother’s death; when she kept herself away from her sisters after becoming orphans; when she made the mistake of falling for Tomas. “Honestly,” she had told him, “when I look at him now, I wonder how I fell in love with him in the first place.” She then told him of how her relationship with Tomas was a toxic one; him being abusive and controlling; how he made her feel low of herself; how he never respected her; how he kept cheating on her. She told Cassian of the day Tomas hit her and accused her of cheating just because he saw her paying for her groceries at a male’s counter. She told him of how she called the police immediately after and got him behind bars. By the time she was over, Nesta was curled by his side, tears silently streaming down her beautiful face, him rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Then he told her about himself. He decided to tell her the plain truth without any alterations. She deserved it. But it felt intimate, somehow, sharing the details he hadn’t spoken out loud. Even Az and Rhys had only seen what he did and never pushed afterwards. He told her as much before telling her about how much he loved his mother; of how he never knew his father and that was for his father’s own good; of how his mother was killed one day while he was at school; of how he beat the men involved into pulp; of how he was called a brute and a bastard there on; of how he first met Rhys and Az at his school; of how Rhys’s mother took him in as her own son; of the silly things and the trouble the trio would create.

“You are a very good friend, Cass. And an even better man,” Nes said

His heart warmed. He said, “Don’t care about what Tomas said. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, brave, witty and sharp woman. And I,” he paused, “I like you very much as a friend too.”

He didn’t understand the short pang of disappointment on his face. All he could think was, shit, I almost said I loved her.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @nehemikkele @angelic-voice-1997 @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @vinylcryes @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella @ganseys-jane

Cassian: Doesn’t count when you use your hands to do most of the work.

Nesta: I bet that isn’t what you’ve been telling yourself at night.

Cassian: Is that what those smutty books teach you? That it’s only at night? It could be anytime—dawn’s first light, or when I’m bathing, or even after a long, hard day of practice.

Nesta: Sounds like you have a lot of time on your hands, Cassian.

Azriel:

Here it is guys... The promised Nessian art 😅 finally finished it 😌😩 I just finished moving out and I will have more time to draw and share with you guys 🎉❤️ characters are Nesta and Cassian from A court of thorns and roses by @sjmaas Hope you guys will like it xoxo 

Rhys to Feyre: Who I am in the Court of Nightmares... it's not something I want you to see.

Az to Gwyn *probably*: I'd rather you not see who I am in the Court of Nightmares.

Cassian to Nesta *probably*: Going to the Court of Nightmares tomorrow! Please come with me! You're going to be sooooo turned on. I promise. ;)

cr: jessdraw.s on ig

I’ve finally started a painting of Nessian! 

I know Cassian has officially been described with straight hair (I’m not crying, you’re crying!), but I can’t un-imagine him with some kinda texture at this point. . . .

Tools: Photoshop, Cintique13HD

“ Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.  

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. 

Wrong -- it was so wrong.  

He didn't care.  ”

A Court of Silver Flames, by Sarah J. Maas

© Art by @blustock (blustock_ on Instagram and Twitter), commissioned by me.

This is for all my lovely, beautiful Elriels. Let’s keep going!💜

Please give full credit to artist and me if reposting.

I could honestly draw Nessian for the rest of my life and be happy ❤️

This was done for BookBestiesUK!

New internal jokes in the acotar fandom

“Go fly into a boulder”

The miniature pegasus and dancing frogs

“The book... is about... a book.”

Az as a chaperone

“Sounds like you have a lot of time on your hands, Cassian.”

“What are you thinking about? || Your mother.”

The new ribbon.

The biscuit.

dumb and dumber energy

The acotar fandom is at each other’s throats on who to ship azriel with after reading A Court of Silver Flames while im just here like:

Nesta: “You’re an arrogant bastard.”

Cassian: “And you’re a haughty witch. We’re evenly matched.”

The Cauldron, fully aware why they’re mates:

Nesta : I gave you an anatomy that will allow you to have Illyrian children later.

Feyre : Omg thank you !

Nesta : Yeah your welcome. I did it for me too.

Elain : That’s so cool ! And for me ? ☺️

Nesta, a hard Gwynriel shipper :

tamlin during acomaf 💀