#and then also instead of there being too much free time for cassian to come off as an asshole

[mossytrashcan]

Unrelated but I was thinking about Koschei for reasons (I was reading about proto indo European pantheon and it turns out 'Fire God formed in water' is a myth researchers think they mightve had and it remonded me of Vassa) and am I allowed to say how funny it is that like, Koschei is so directly named after a myth. Like Bone Carvers his own thing and Stryga is technically got like The Three Fates/The Witch in Hansel and Gretel vibes, and then there's Koschei who is basically just the guy from the myth including the title. ALSO protoindoeuropean pantheon speculation is dope BTW you should research it its fascinating

Bold of you to assume I haven’t already researched it. I fucking loved anything protoindoeuropean as a kid, the folklore FUCKS

Anyways, personally I would’ve loved it if SJM combined Lanthys and Koschei together into one character. I think (no shade to ACOSF and it’s enthusiasts) instead of the rehab/whatever plot we got, we could’ve gotten to see a little brief corruption arc w Nesta and Koschei

Cuz like imagine a story where this deathless death god found out about cauldrongate and was like psychologically manipulating Nesta into gathering all of the troves (his soul bits) so that she could 1) become his queen/weapon, 2) make him all powerful, and 3) become a literal shield for him because the gang would have to kill her to kill him

(gonna unprofessionally ramble in the tags because I need to brainstorm about this lol)

#this probably sucks ass but I genuinely love the Koschei the Deathless myths sauuur much #like how fucking dare you throw him in there casually #anyways I need to work out the wrinkles in this hmmm #I know I’m bomb at pitching stories but there’s stuff missing and I need to work it out yknow #but yeah drop the mortal queen who’s evil thing cuz honestly who gives a fuck #also no shade to the rehab thing it was v relatable but also clearly a background for super sex #it could’ve been set up in the christmas special too #like oooo look something’s weird with nesta what could it be #and then also instead of there being too much free time for cassian to come off as an asshole #maybe he’s like trying to get thru to her or something #maybe it could be a literal retelling of the koschei story where the guy fucks his ass up for his lover #yeah that’s good see I just need to brainstorm in live time #sjm critical #THIS ISNT ABOUT HER I SWEAR IM JUST PITCHING #also also you could tie in nesta’s grooming for grooming #like in a sick way this is what she was raised to do #her wacky grandmother who def existed to make her story more sad laid the foundation for this #and now she has to like break that cycle and reaffirm that NO she doesn’t need to exist for old men #she deserves something better and epic #idk man I’m going crazy sorry

[born-to-riot]

I Know What You Need

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 7 (Free Day)

Summary: Amren comes up with an unorthodox solution to one of Nesta's problems....and by unorthodox I mean Amren and Varian invite Nesta to share their bed for the night.

[This all was inspired by a message I sent @acourtofladydeath that said: I think there is a sore lack of vamren in the community and shall I fix that by having them invite a third? Shall it be Nesta? Shall Amren show her how to harness her potential by taking it out on a needy overstimulated Varian?]

Found on AO3

What I Want.

Chapter 1 of 2

Looking back, Nesta isn’t quite sure how she found herself in this situation. Well actually that’s a lie, she thinks.  Nesta shifts her weight to her other leg and releases a sigh as she tightens her bun for what feels like the umpteenth time. She has been standing outside the door of Amren’s apartament in Velaris for Cauldron knows how long, afraid to knock. 

In truth, Nesta knows exactly how she ended up accepting her mentor and friend’s shocking proposal. It does not necessarily erase the thin but ever-so-present shroud of guilt and mortification hovering about her. 

“You’re here for a reason.” Nesta quietly reminds herself, keeping her blue-gray eyes locked on the unopened door in front of her. 

In a thin, black  robe, Nesta Archeron stands tall. Made ornate by the roses and thorns sewn into the neck line, the silk clings tightly to her skin. Amren had asked–or actually she more so demanded–that Nesta arrive here tonight dressed minimally, so she had. As she, Amren, and Varian have all gone over several times prior to tonight, the scene will start as soon as the tiny fae opens the door. 

“It might help if I knock on it first.” Nesta murmurs to herself.

It's been six months since the end of the war with Hybern and to be honest, Nesta has not been in the best place with her mind, her friends, or with her power. She’s not even going to start on the whole weird connection she feels with Cassian. The male has been super frustrating as of late and honestly, all Nesta wants to do anytime he comes near her is punch him in the face. More pertinent to the present matter at hand, Nesta feels like she’s been swept into a world she wasn’t ready to understand and placed into a body that she doesn���t fully know. She wishes she could take this transition in stride like Feyre. Recently, even Elain is doing better than she is. But instead Nesta feels like she is shriveling down to a fragment of herself, cowering under the weight of the unknown, from the fear of what has already happened, and the terror of what is coming next. 

But alas, Amren has offered a possible solution, albeit an unorthodox one, to address some of her problems and Nesta would be foolish to deny this opportunity as not only it is much better than bedding random males every night, but also she is hopeful that she will be able to feel whole again after tonight. 

“Come on, Nesta,” she tells herself, “Still, she refuses to acknowledge that her hand is most definitely shaking as she slowly raises it in preparation to knock on the red-painted door that stands between her and something that she knows she will never be able to come back from. 

Nesta has to remind herself to keep breathing when the door swings open in front of her, her hand still raised in front of the now empty space. Not even a millisecond later, Amren appears in the doorframe, clad in sheer white oversized button down shirt, which–if Nesta wasn’t too busy attempting to stop her jaw from literally dropping at the mesmerizing sight of Amren’s elaborate lingerie set peaking through the frame provided by the unbuttoned shirt–she’d put her money on it being Varians. She doesn’t spend too much time pondering that thought, however, as Nesta is also currently trying to remedy the usual image of the harem-pants-wearing and fear-inducing tiny gremlin of a fae with the ethereal vision in front of her currently. 

Amren is intimidating enough on her own; however, the additional height of her thigh-high seven-inch platforms brings her just a couple inches shy of Nesta’s own height and the closeness of her ancient silver hues makes Nesta’s heart start racing even faster. As Amren clearly is taking her time in assessing Nesta, she takes her own time to try to decide if she wants to top or be topped by the little fae in front of her. 

Nesta isn’t reluctant to admit that she has not ever spent much time thinking about Amren’s breasts other than the fact that they were small. Now though, as she sees them held in an overbust mesh black steel boned corset, she can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like in her palms. Nesta also hasn’t given too much thought to women before in regards to the matter of sexual preference. In her defense, when she was still human she was mostly surrounded with women that were either related to her or were members of the blasted ‘children of the blessed’. She supposes she will have to be thankful that the whole ‘being dunked in a magical cauldron against her will by an egomaniac’ ordeal has allowed her to explore a wider avenue of carnal opportunities than she ever could have imagined. At that line of thought her traitorous brain and heart work together to form an image of a certain large red-siphoned Illyrian male and Nesta quickly shuts that down. Tonight is not about him, she reassures herself, it's about her. 

Fortunately, there is something about Amren’s ancient aura combined with her ‘wiser than thou’ attitude that Nesta finds infuriating but at the same time inexplicably attractive. Amren lets out a purposefully audible sigh, shifting her weight onto her other leg and placing her black fingerless glove covered arms on her hip–barely visible past the rolled-up sleeves of Varian’s shirt. Still, the movement draws Nesta’s attention to the many rings on her finger–unsurprising–and the tiny fae’s manicure, her nails filed to such sharp tips they appeared to be claws. Not only that, but the movement adjusts the oversized shirt she was wearing over her lingerie set and now Nesta can’t stop the thrum of interest that rises inside of her as her eyes lock onto the bare skin of Amren’s pussy, which is on display through her crotchless mesh and lace panty. 

“You’re late,” Amren’s voice shocks Nesta out of her self-induced stupor. She immediately lifts her gaze to meet the unimpressed one evident in the other’s charcoal-lined eyes. 

She opens her mouth to speak–to try and come up with some sort of explanation for herself–yet she finds she is unable to do anything other than audibly choke on an inhale. Nesta closes her mouth, frustrated with herself. She is smart, she is beautiful, she is the eldest of her sisters and she will be Cauldron-damned if she lets herself get flustered by Amren of all people. Nesta straightens her posture and goes to speak again, intending to say something stupid about how ‘You’re lucky I came at all’ just so she could feel more in control of the situation. However, she gets interrupted again, this time though not by her own volition, but instead at the silent raising of Amren’s hand in a ‘stop’ motion. She feels a rise of anger filling her, absolutely furious at the audacity of Amren to just hold her hand up and expect Nesta to stop speaking. How dare she? A voice hisses inside of her, one that Nesta is not too sure is entirely her own, yet she is too caught up in her inexplicable rage to care. 

“I don’t care for excuses, girl,” Amren interrupts her before Nesta even has a chance to voice her ire, rolling her eyes and stepping aside so that she can hold the door open– the action a clear invitation for Nesta to enter the premises. Nesta takes a deep breath, truly trying not to lose her cool at the elder for such a minor transgression and one that is just so quintessentially Amren. However, she nearly loses her composure again when her inner consciousness decides to remind her that ‘she does have a type.’ Nesta is fully aware that she apparently has a metaphorical hard-on for infuriatingly obnoxious assholes–the main culprit of this affliction being Cassian. However, usually, Amren is more of a smartass which keeps her away from the same category as the Ilyrian. Tonight, however, the ancient being seems to be cauldron-bent on trying to antagonize Nesta and for some forsaken reason the slight is turning her on.

Instead of falling victim to Amren’s goading, Nesta inhales the Velaris air one more time before taking a step past the threshold into Amren’s apartment. Upon her exhale, she finds herself in the same lackluster entryway she’s found herself in many times before. Amren, at least given what Nesta has observed so far in the time she’s known her, seems to prefer to save her decor for the deeper areas of the apartment–if she were to wager a guess, Nesta presumes the ancient creature would rather keep her jewels and valuables protected and hidden in contrast to Rhys and Feyre who display their wealth like a peacock does its feathers. Though, she supposes that is their right as the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. Nevertheless, Nesta still takes the time to let her eyes trail across her immediate surroundings. She recognizes the same little alcove to her left that has two emerald green club chairs on either side of a small end table as well as the rest of the entryway, the area being sparse apart from another closed door and a painting of some books. Despite the fact that she’s seen this all before, Nesta feels the hairs on her arms start to raise as her gaze finally lands on the empty hallway in front of her; she wonders if the chill in the air is a foretaste of what is to come of tonight. 

Before she has a chance to determine what side of the scale the omen leans toward, the sound of the door slamming behind her shocks Nesta back into the moment. She whips around to face Amren, who is leaning with her back against the now-shut front door, smirking up at her. While she internally reprimands her subconscious for allowing her to show her back to such a dangerous creature, Nesta would also be lying if she says she did not feel a sense of satisfaction curl within her once she realizes that even with Amren’s heels, Nesta is still taller than her. Of course, this satisfaction doesn’t last, the second Amren lets her grin fall off her face and takes a step forward, Nesta feels as if a veil has lifted from her view, revealing the ethereal being in front of her. Everyone in Prythian knows that Amren is an otherworldly creature, full of knowledge and power. Nesta regrets to think that she thought Amren would somehow become less than she once was after she lost her power in the Cauldron all those months ago. 

“This is your last chance to back out girl,” Amren says seriously, pure silver locked on gray blue, gazing into her eyes so directly Nesta almost feels as if Amren is able to see through her. Nesta is still trying to take in the sight of Amren’s silky black hair framing her sharp jaw-line, her small but supple tits barely visible but clearly evident, her tiny waist and lean muscle both obvious through the mesh and fit of her corset, the color a great contrast against her tanned skin. However, as Nesta eyes Amren’s freshly shaven cunt–the pattern of the lace on her crotchless panties perfectly framing her vulva–she feels her temperature rise with a combination of both desire and ire. Nesta doesn’t give a shit if Amren currently looks like some sort of goddess, how dare she question her surety.

“I know what I want,” Nesta narrows her eyes into a glare and straightens her posture, refusing to look away from Amren’s unusually sober stare. She understands that Amren is just concerned, but she wishes everyone would stop being so careful around her. She used to be able to rely on Amren to be the only one in her sister’s stupid fucking Inner Circle who was willing to be up-front with her.   

“It's not a question of what you want, this is a matter of what you need, girl,” Amren stalks closer to her, her eyes somehow still bright and predatory despite the dimness of the room. 

“There is nothing weak about having second thoughts,” she purrs, starting to circle around Nesta as she comes even closer, like a predator and its prey. 

“Amren,” she snaps, frustratedly, tired of her friend’s game. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be, Nesta bemoans the fact that it seems like the tiny fae truly derives some sick sense of pleasure from making everything ten times more difficult than it needs to be. 

“Patience child,” she shivers at the sound of Amren’s tongue clicking right behind her, the ancient one’s voice sounding displeased. Before Nesta can even process why the disappointment in Amren’s tone causes her heart to jolt, the press of two dangerously sharp nail tips against the back of her neck pause all of her racing thoughts. She fights the urge to flinch as the nails start to slowly drag down the remainder of her exposed spine, pressing into each vertebrae it passes.

“Don’t make a mistake. Just because I allow you to play a dominant role tonight,” the female hisses, her breath warm against Nesta’s ear, the two dangerously sharp tips of Amren’s nails focusing on the vertebrae that sits right above the collar of Nesta’s robe, she continues, “doesn’t mean I’m not still willing to put you in your place.”

The words send a shiver of delight through Nesta, the tickle of Amren’s breath against her ear sends tendrils of electricity that spread throughout her whole body. She can feel the tingles reverberate in her chest and down her arms, until they land, pooling in her breasts. Nesta’s breath hitches and she  as the indent of Amren’s nails start to shift, her nipples hardening at the drag of the claw-like sensation against the side of her throat. She doesn’t even realize that her eyes are closed until Amren releases the grip on her neck, Nesta opening her eyes to find the other in front of her with a distinctly pleased grin painting her sharp faerie features. 

“Understand?” Amren asks expectantly, slowly moving her jewel covered hand to the flimsy piece of string that is holding Nesta’s robe together, causing the more modest of the two to blush. Nesta feels a piece of her strange newly awakened inner soul start to fight at the idea of conceding to anyone. However, she notes the tantalizingly slow speed of Amren’s outstretched hand and appreciates the fact that she is purposefully giving her plenty of opportunity to reject the advance if Nesta was to wish it so. 

“Hmm?” Amren urges Nesta gently to respond, pausing her hand once it reaches its destination, tangling itself loosely in the string. As Nesta eyes Amren, she can’t help but think that this is probably the most considerate Amren will ever be of her wishes. Still, she looks at the hunger evident in Amren’s eyes, thinks about the heat filling her own body, and she knows she can’t put this off any longer. She thinks over the last couple months of angst and seclusion, about how she can barely stand to look at herself in the mirror, the flames in her eyes not feeling like her own.  It’s time she takes the next step for herself. Nesta knows what she wants–no, she knows what she needs to do now. 

“Yes Mistress, I understand,” Nesta replies, inclining her head as a sign of acceptance of Amren’s authority.

“Good girl” Nesta doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that the older’s praise gives her such a clear sense of security. However, it seems she doesn’t have much time to ponder on it further. With one swift movement Amren has rid Nesta’s robe of the tie keeping it together, the fabric falling open to reveal her bare skin underneath. 

“What a treat,” a devilish smirk plasters itself onto Amren’s face as the female eyes her up and down. She has to admit that this, revealing her naked body to her friend, is one of the parts of tonight that she has been most nervous for. Now though, Nesta can only find it in herself to feel pleased as she watches Amren hungrily take in her bare body, her unyielding silver stare seeming to pause on her ample breasts and what’s visible of her cunt. 

“You look absolutely delightful, he won’t be able to control himself,” Amren notes before turning on her heel and heading down the long hallway. Nesta is flattered and somewhat surprised that Amren said so– assuming the ‘he’ in question is Varian– Nesta’s body being a much different build than Amren’s. Nesta has been so caught up in Amren she almost is sorry to say that she might have forgotten about Varian, which is insane because Amren is quite literally letting Nesta fuck her boyfriend to help her feel normal in this new body of hers and to help her gain control of the great power that has been set loose inside her. 

“Come on, girl,” Nesta will admit she barely registers the words that are coming out of Amren’s mouth, her eyes a little busy admiring the other’s well-defined ass. She supposes it makes sense, Amren is strong not only due to her position as Rhysand’s Second in Command, but also just through reputation alone. It would make sense that Amren’s glutes would reflect such strength, which Nesta once again feels bad for presuming that someone so small wouldn’t be able to have a wonderful ass. 

“I won’t be happy if I have to repeat myself,” Amren notes, turning back to look at Nesta over her shoulder, raising a brow. Nesta quickly launches herself into motion, following the other female. As Amren comes to stop in front of one of the doors further down the way, Nesta wonders what lies behind it.

“Let the festivities begin,” Amren quips, opening the door in front of her and stepping inside. Nesta gulps as she follows behind her, not having a chance to see anything other than a dark room and the white of the shirt on Amren’s back before the other motions to her in a request to close the door behind her. Nesta turns quickly then, somehow hoping that the faster she moves the more it will lessen her nerves. As soon as she closes the door she notes that the lighting in the room dims significantly. She takes a second to inhale and exhale, clearing her mind of all of her worries, before finally deciding that she is truly ready to begin..

“What now?” Nesta asks, turning around in search of Amren. 

“Strip” Amren orders, taking the moment to also shed herself of the oversized shirt she had been wearing over her lingerie. 

Nesta takes a moment to assess her surroundings, noting that they seem to be in a walk-in closet. The only light in the room is provided by the flames of various candles throughout the many presumably empty shelves in the room, Nesta admits she hasn’t given the shelves too much attention as she is much more interested in the main focus of the room: a large ostentatious full length mirror. The mirror is absolutely gorgeous and is framed by two hanging lanterns so that whoever stands in front of it will be able to see themselves in lovely detail. So much detail that Nesta finds her nerves creeping up on her again, but she looks at Amren–waiting patiently next to the mirror for her– and slips the sleeves of her robe off her shoulders. The already-opened garment easily slides down the rest of her body and gathers in a puddle at her feet.

“Good girl,” Amren purrs, “now come over here and stand in front of this mirror for me, yeah?”

Nesta nods, trying to keep her eyes on Amren female instead of looking back at her own reflection. The air in the room chills against her now bare skin, Nesta feels the hair on her arms stand as she lessens the distance between herself and her destination. Although, as Nesta takes another step, she realizes that she is not exactly sure if the goosebumps are solely due to the cold. 

“Tell me what you see, girl,” Amren orders her, Nesta finally arriving at a standstill. She hesitates to adhere to the ancient one’s wishes, biting her lip and taking note of the fact that she finds some form of comfort in the familiar face of her friend. It is not like she is a virgin. Nesta is guilty of having taken many random fae males back to her apartment over the course of the past six months. Despite the frequency of the occurrences, Nesta finds it hard to remember anything apart from going through the expected motions. She brings the male of choice to her bed, they fuck, the male goes home, and once again she is left feeling trapped in some suspension of reality–stuck in a time that is between the past and the present, no hope for a future. 

But tonight, in this moment, in this closet, there is no denying the vulnerability that seeps through her every pore. In the candlelight Amren’s silver eyes look radiant, luminous like they were before she sacrificed herself, her power, for them all. Nesta is as guilty as the rest of the inner circle in that they all are waiting for the moment Amren breaks, that she lashes out at one of the others in jealousy, that she can’t take it anymore. But now, Amren stands in front of her more alluring than Nesta has ever found her before. The tiny fae is still leaning against the mirror frame, waiting patiently for Nesta to follow her orders. Nesta looks her up and down, once again admiring Amrens' lingerie–the combination of her heels, corset, fingerless gloves, and crotchless lace mesh panties all working well together to bring attention to her toned legs. Nesta finds herself overcome with jealousy too, that Amren could walk around her own house showing off her cunt so freely. However, she does appreciate Amren’s uncharacteristic show of patience and so Nesta nods at the elder before adhering to her wishes. She turns slightly to face herself in the mirror.

“I see myself,” Nesta answers the question without a thought. She spies Amren frowning at her response from the corner of her eye and Nesta struggles not to do the same. Respecting the process is hard when the process is asking her what she sees in a mirror, what the fuck else is she supposed to see other than her reflection? 

“Try again,” Amren says, clearly displeased. This time, Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her frown. She doesn’t know why she's trying to be polite when she’s here naked in front of Amren. Still, she swallows as she takes note of Amren’s figure entering the mirror’s field of vision, the ancient creature clearly assessing her.

“I don’t know its a fucking mirror, Amren, what else am I supposed to see?” Nesta snaps. She has never been one to hold herself back before, she doesn’t know why she should stop now. Maybe if Nesta demands some answers from Amren, then their night can get started faster.

“I will give you one warning to keep your temper in check, girl,” Amren hisses, the flickering candlelight bouncing off her naturally tanned skin as she approaches Nesta, her figure becoming larger as she gets closer to Nesta. 

“You know what you signed up for, I don’t like brats,” Amren comes to a stop just slightly behind her, Nesta is able to see her claw-like nails rhythmically tapping impatiently upon her cocked hip.

Nesta closes her eyes with a sigh. She does know what she signed up for, and if anyone knows how to deal with being shoved inside a different form it's Amren. She inhales and tries to clear her mind of all her inhibitions, she knows that in order for this to work she needs to step into it fully rather than keeping one metaphorical foot out the door. Nesta opens her eyes, looking straight into their gray-blue reflection as she decides she’s ready to try again. 

“I see…” Nesta trails off, her throat suddenly dry as the mirror confronts her with a bare body, the body that she knows is supposed to belong to her, the body that looks almost the same as it always has, the body that no longer feels like her own. A stranger.

“You see…?” Amren urges her to continue. The heat radiating from her breath tickles against Nesta’s ear, causing her nipples to tingle slightly. She pushes that thought aside though because she remembers Amren has asked her a question..

“I see….myself?” she replies less sure than before, watching her own shoulders hike up in the mirror, noting that her breasts bounce slightly with the motion. Despite the fact that she utters the same response as before, anyone who has two eyes and two working ears would be able to tell that Nesta’s tone is completely different than it was before. She stares at her reflection in the mirror. 

Nesta knows this body, she recognizes her fair skin, she recognizes her golden-brown hair–still tied up in a bun, and she recognizes her sharp jawline. Her ears are definitely different but oddly enough it doesn’t bother her, she supposes it suits her face and she still has her same long neck. As she lets her eyes trail down her reflection further she can see her arms are more toned than before. Her breasts are a tad bit bigger than when she was human too–which she chalks up to the amazing food in Prythian. In her opinion, there is nothing particularly remarkable about her stomach or legs, they are the same size and length as before. Nesta is familiar with this body, so she doesn’t know why she feels so out of place in front of this mirror.

Nesta can’t help but let her eyes focus on her least favorite part of herself: her cunt. It's not like she’s had a lot of others to compare hers to before, but she has always felt like hers was rather ugly. Nesta lets her eyes glance slightly to the right to take a peek at Amren’s cunt where it's peeking through her crotchless panties in the mirror. The ancient fae’s pussy was free of all pubic hair, her vulva looking smooth. Based on the fact that Nesta doesn’t see any signs of Amren's inner labia, she assumes that Amren is one of those lucky bitches with shorter ones. Nesta glances back to her own, her own pubic region is covered in hair in addition to her inner labia hanging down to where they are visible in her reflection. 

“Good enough,” Amren, thankfully, interrupts her negative spiral of thoughts. Nesta is also grateful that Amren accepts her answer, probably able to sense the change in Nesta’s energy. 

“On your knees!” Nesta didn’t even notice Amren move before she felt a distinct boot-like pressure on the backs of her knees, causing them to buckle. Before she even has a chance to be upset about this turn of events, she feels Amren’s hand grip the back of her neck, focusing Nesta’s attention back on both of their reflections in the mirror.

“First, we’re taking care of this pesky bun,” Nesta gasps as Amren roughly snaps the hairband she was using, yanking it out of her hair. Nesta can’t even appreciate the tickle of her golden-brown hair falling upon her shoulders, she gasps out a moan as Amren adjusts her grip to include the back of her hair, yanking it back roughly.

“Then,” she uses one of her nails to bring Nesta’s head up to face her. From this position, Nesta has a really good perspective of Amren's vulva, her dark inner labia symmetrically framed by the beautiful lace of her panties. She guesses she understands now why Amren and Varian spend so much of their time in the bedroom, if Nesta had a partner who looked like that she wouldn’t be able to stay off of them. 

“Listen to me,” Amren continues to speak, adding pressure to her grip on the back of Nesta’s neck, moving the other hand–finger still on her jaw–down to rest upon the column of her now exposed throat, “you are never going to get over this malaise of yours if you don’t acknowledge that you are more now.”

Nesta isn’t exactly sure how she’s supposed to be paying attention to anything other than the feel of Amren’s finger, the sharp edge now tracing down the line of her throat–now that Nesta can actually feel the edges of Amren’s nails, she knows that if Amren wanted she could slice through the skin of her neck with one flick of her finger. Still, Nesta tries to ignore the trail of electricity that seems to be shooting out of wherever her skin makes contact with Amren’s and instead tries to focus on the conversation that she is supposed to be participating in.

“No, I know…,” Nesta starts, the sudden absence of Amren’s grip startles her, “I know-”, she tries to continue, tracking Amren’s reflection in the mirror, the tiny fae keeping her one finger anchored in its position on Nesta’s neck while swerving behind her so that she is now standing behind Nesta’s left side. “I know that I’m… different,” Nesta finishes, trying not to flinch away from the sudden softness of Amren’s knuckle circling the area of skin around the indentation left behind by the sharp edge of her nail. 

“Different isn’t the same as bad, child,” Nesta doesn’t know why the use of the term ‘child’ suddenly bothers her, Amren is so old that it makes perfect sense why she would view all their friends as such. Yet, for some reason, the term strikes an odd cord within her, leaving behind a slight residue of ire. She doesn’t think she is in the place to complain about it now, though. Especially as she both witnesses Amren’s reflection and feels the fae move behind her, now straddling her left calf and hooking her chin over the back of Nesta’s shoulder. Her nipples harden immediately, the combination of Amren’s breath ghosting over her shoulder—breezing past the side of her neck—and of the warmth against her completely nude back transforms Nesta’s body into an oversensitive vessel. 

“I remember when I first saw you, and these,” Amren starts, her arms reaching out from behind Nesta, her tanned hands—peeking out from fingerless gloves—now taking a hold of Nesta’s breasts, “these for sure are different.”

Nesta bites back a moan as she makes eye contact with Amren through the mirror, the other fae having an almost feral grin on her face as she begins massaging Nesta’s breasts. Despite the fact that Amren’s hands are small—not able to encompass the entirety of Nesta’s rather large breasts—she makes up for it with her vigor. Amren starts rolling Nesta’s nipples between her index finger and thumb in combination with the rhythmic pressing of her other fingers, each one making contact with a pressure point Nesta didn’t even know was there.. 

“Mhmm” Nesta moans a response, unable to hold back the effect of the pleasure arising from Amren’s kneading. It feels like there is fire inside her, each roll of Amren’s fingers on her nipples causes a ripple like sensation shooting straight to her cunt, leaving a pathway of sensitivity leading straight to her steadily heating core.

“And this,” Amren says lowly, nibbling at Nesta’s left ear as she releases her grip on her right breast. Both silver and gray-blue eyes track Amren’s hand through the mirror–watching as it disappears behind Nesta’s back briefly. 

Nesta loses track of the room around her as she feels two of the pads of Amren’s fingers press ever-so-lightly against her spine between her shoulder-blades. This teasingly light touch combines with a particularly well timed squeeze of her left breast, triggering another round of the spark-like sensation inside her. Nesta tilts her head back to the right almost subconsciously, her body submitting to Amren and readily exposing her neck. She ignores the inner rage that emerges from that same deep  place as before, especially when she feels Amren’s fingers start to trail their teasingly-light touch down her spine–the fae seemingly enjoying the feel of the dips and ridges between her vertebrae as she makes her way down. 

“This is your greatest error,” Amren ghosts the words over the exposed skin of her neck, Nesta shivers at the sensation. 

“What is?” Nesta asks, she internally curses her ancient friend’s inability to refrain from sounding cryptic whenever she speaks.

“This,” Amren repeats, immediately releasing her other breast. Nesta is too confused to register the jiggle of her tit as it settles back into its place on her chest. ‘This’ still isn’t an answer, Nesta thinks. Thankfully though, she isn’t too far caught up into the ‘enigma that is Amren’ to miss the fact that Amren’s right hand is currently resting on her ass, the palm of her left hand–the one that has just released her breast–now pressing on the region of skin just above her pelvic bone. 

“How dare you deny this cunt as your own,” Amren demands. Nesta gasps as Amren moves her hand that is resting on Nesta’s ass down to cup her vulva from behind, igniting a whole new round of heat inside of her. Nesta can feel Amren’s fingers tangling themselves in her pubic hair, she can see the tips of Amren’s nails in the reflection from the mirror. 

“I-I didn’t tell you that,” Nesta stutters, the heat of Amren’s hand below making it difficult for Nesta to retrieve her thoughts, her clit throbs in anticipation and she can feel the distinct sensation of wetness starting to build up inside of her.  

“I know,” Amren smirks, Nesta making eye contact with her reflection, “But you poured your soul out into this mirror, girl. I can tell, that’s why I know exactly what I need to do to fix you.”

Nesta can’t even begin to try to wrap her head around that sentence; as soon as Nesta opens her mouth Amren presses her palm harder into Nesta’s front, causing a loud moan to escape her lips instead of whatever it was she intended to say as the added pressure discharges quivers of pleasure straight to her clit. Nesta is beginning to get the feeling that Amren enjoys making her speechless. 

“And w-what’s that?” she manages to ask, truly desperate to know how Amren is going to fix Nesta’s fractured soul.

“How about you stop asking questions so that I can show you,” Amren replies instead of answering, Nesta pauses, noting that this is the first time tonight that Amren has sounded anything close to borderline impatient. Amren relaxes the pressure on Nesta’s front, seemingly waiting for the younger to respond before she continues. 

Nesta quickly pushes aside the massive amounts of lust that are coursing through her body at the moment and instead makes eye contact with Amren again through their reflections. 

“Yes Mistress, I apologize,” Nesta says dutifully, only feeling slightly bad that she irritated Amren. Still, she knows she made the right move as Nesta spies Amren’s shoulders relaxing as she rehooks her chin over Nesta’s left shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praises. Nesta watches Amren’s eyes flash before she starts moving her left hand up and down Nesta’s stomach. Nesta can do nothing but swallow as Amren starts to move her right hand. 

“Now, are you seriously trying to tell me that these don’t belong to you?” Amren hisses. Nesta jolts as she feels Amren grip the lips of her inner labia, slowly rolling them between her fingers.

“These are nice, full, begging for attention, why do you hate them?”

“I don’t-” Nesta tries to start.

“Don’t lie to me,” Amren cuts her off, igniting another distant unfamiliar rage inside Nesta, one that she does not completely understand. As it seems to keep happening tonight, Amren doesn’t give her a chance to respond as Amren places a particularly strong tug on her inner labia, pulling the lips down before releasing them, the sound of Nesta’s wetness subsequently echoing in the quiet tiny room.

Amren forms two of her fingers into a V, pressing them just outside the area surrounding her clit before she starts massaging the area in a circular motion.

“Fuck.” Nesta whimpers, Amren’s teasing is absolutely agonizing. Nesta’s clit throbs, with the other’s fingers so close, it can’t help but send pulses of need throughout Nesta’s body in time with each move of Amren’s fingers around it. 

“I need you to understand that this power of yours is not something you should be afraid of,” Amren stops the circular motions and instead presses two fingers directly onto her clit through its hood. Nesta swears the pleasure is so intense, it feels as if a fire is rising inside of her. The base of it originates from her core, the smoke rising up to keep the rest of her upper body warm too.  

“It wants to work with you,” Amren lets out a gasp as she starts to grind her own pussy down on Nesta’s leg which she has been stradling this whole time. Nesta bites her lip as she feels the moist beginnings of Amren’s own juices impressing upon her calf. The fingers of Amren’s right hand aren't moving, instead they keep a constant thread of pressure on her clit. Nesta’s poor clit, she can tell it’s desperate for attention, it sends constant pulses as if it is asking her to move to give it some sort of relief from all the stimulation Amren is providing.

Nesta watches Amren through the mirror. She can both see and feel Amren’s right hand splaying out across her stomach, using it for balance as she grinds against her calf and uses her other hand to attend to Nesta’s cunt. Despite the impressive multitasking that Amren already has going on, Nesta notices Amren’s assessing silver gaze is locked on her own, as if Amren is waiting for her to realize something. 

What though? Nesta wants to ask, but she refrains because she knows Amren won’t take it well. But how the fuck is she supposed to know what Amren wants? Amren is older than Prythian itself and Nesta has been High Fae for less than a year. All Nesta knows is that she is more turned on than she has ever been in her entire life, sitting completely in the nude between a mirror and the scantily dressed body of one of the people she feels the most comfortable around lately–which in itself is saying something as it is Amren she is talking about. 

“Look inside yourself,” Amren says as she slows the pace of her gyrations, “can’t you feel that you’re not alone?”

Nesta lets out another moan, closing her eyes as Amren starts driving the fingers that have been fixed on Nesta’s clit around, dragging her clit into a circular path. This, of course, causes Nesta’s hips to jerk into the motion, chasing after the pleasure. She also tries to decipher what exactly Amren means with her statement that ‘she’s not alone.’

It is quite hard to do so though when she feels like there’s a sweltering heat inside her body, begging for escape. Nesta has been horny before, she knows what it feels like. Cauldron knows that she has been a victim of it tonight. Fortunately, thanks to the overstimulation that Amren is so happily providing, Nesta is able to take a deeper look at what’s going on inside of her. 

Nesta closes her eyes, trying to center herself past the pleasure that’s overwhelming her senses. As she inhales, she ignores the rocking of Amren’s pussy back and forth on her calf, she ignores the sting of her painfully hard nipples, she ignores the rhythmic squelching coming from her own pussy as Amren’s hand keeps her lips in motion and pressure on her clit, Nesta ignores it all. As she channels into her soul, deep inside her, Nesta realizes that Amren is right, once again, she is clearly not alone. 

It’s a hard thing to describe, a soul. Nesta certainly isn’t expecting to find hers feeling like it's coated in some sort of substance similar to live-wire. It definitely seems to be working in overload–constricted behind some sort of mental block–the area around it seems electrically charged. She tries to paint a mental picture of it, of this charged substance locked deep inside her persona. Nesta thinks it could best be described as a worn steel cage that just barely contains a ball of pure energy. For some reason, Nesta’s gets a sudden feeling if something other than her tries to reach out for it, this hidden piece of her soul, fire would lash out through the holes in the cage, almost like an intentional solar flare. She mentally reaches towards it, trying to catch a read of it–and inwardly gasps as she realizes she recognizes it. 

“By the Cauldron,” Nesta gasps, coming back to the present with a jolt, the shock of her realization causing her to sit back on her calves–a space in which she notices Amren is no longer occupying–not being able to kneel properly any longer. She’s definitely sweating, she can feel its sheen gathering upon every inch of her body.

As she struggles to catch her breath, Nesta remembers something that Amren had said when she first was explaining the benefits of this whole ordeal to Nesta.

“Every being in this world has the potential for magic, child. Even some humans if they so chose to tap into that part of themselves. Its residue lies along the lines of the needs that unite all living creatures in all the worlds–eat, sleep, fuck. Your walls have been built too high, girl. It’s time we break them down.”

“Don’t you see now?” Nesta snaps her attention towards Amren, the female now standing, pressing her weight against the side of the mirror–one heeled boot crossed over the other–and inspecting the nails of her right hand, the one which had just been intimately involved with Nesta’s folds. 

Nesta decides to ignore the fact that she has no idea when Amren even left her prior position behind her. She’s so close to understanding what’s going on with her, she can taste it. She doesn’t even care that Amren stopped touching her right before she would have most definitely orgasmed–well, she does a little… a lot, but gaining control of herself and her power is much more important, she reminds herself.

“It’s my magic…” Nesta breathes, moving her hands to the floor behind her to support her weight. 

“It’s my…” Nesta trails off, noticing her own flushed appearance in the mirror.

“Yes,” Amren answers, redirecting Nesta’s attention back towards her, “it’s You, girl.”

This time, Nesta’s ire in response to Amren’s addressment of her is much more palpable, she can feel it crawling under her skin. How dare she, her inner voice speaks, louder than ever before.

“And Nesta,” Amren calls and Nesta turns her attention back towards her immediately, shock coloring her cheeks further. She can count the times that Amren has used her actual name on one hand. 

“Yes?” she asks before she has a chance to take the vision of her in, heart freezing as she registers what Amren is actually doing. 

Amren, still radiant in her lingerie, isn’t even looking at Nesta. Instead, she has her eyes closed, head tilted back against the edge of the mirror frame, and is actively humming. Nesta can do nothing but watch as Amren lifts her index and middle fingers–the ones belonging to the hand that the female had been inspecting previously–and brings it to her plump red lips.

Amren opens her eyes then, and Nesta once again finds herself trapped in the other’s primordial gaze. Amren moans again as she pushes them past her lips, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks on the digits before pulling them out–the action releasing a wet popping sound that seems very loud in the tiny room, the only other sound being Nesta’s increasingly rapid breathing.

“It tastes good,” Amren replies simply, as if she didn’t just do one of the sexiest things Nesta has ever witnessed, “you, taste good.”

“I’ll be right back,” Amren says, disappearing behind the mirror–the one that is so large that Nesta didn’t even know the closet extended further behind it until just now. She doesn’t really care about her abrupt departure though, not when Amren’s words have just launched her into what feels like a state of estrus. 

There is a new wave of boiling heat inside of her. Nesta knows that this heat is different, it almost stings yet it is somehow still satisfying, it’s comforting, and it vibrates against seemingly every possible organ inside her body. She can do nothing but gasp as she feels her magic finally free itself from its steel trap. This power, her power feels just right inside her veins, like her heart needs it just as much as it needs oxygen. 

It’s about time, the magic chides her, and Nesta is overcome by feelings of regret. How could she have denied this part of herself for so long. She understands why Amren was so insistent upon helping her now, why she had been so disappointed in her. Nesta clutches her breast to try to ground herself as she feels her soul reuniting with her heart underneath the skin. 

Of course though, the serene moment is broken by Amren who throws a pile of clothes at her face, breaking Nesta from her trance. This time, Nesta is ready to snap at Amren, in sync with her newly awakened power. 

“Now stand up!” Amren orders. Nesta tries not to let her temper get the best of her as she slowly rises, still able to feel the other’s wetness from where it leaked against her calf. Amren speaks again before Nesta actually has a chance to rip her head off, though.

“Put this on, this is taking a little longer than I was initially anticipating,” Amren says before she promptly disappears behind the mirror yet again. Nesta’s inner irritation quickly dims as she notes a slight tinge of concern dimming Amren’s usually confident eyes. Nesta remembers then, she and Amren are not the only two participants of tonight’s activities. Where exactly is Varian? Nesta wants to find out.

She quickly puts on the clothes that Amren picks out for her and slips her feet into an expensive looking pair of black stilettos. As she starts to turn around so that she can get a good look at herself in the mirror, Nesta can’t help but ponder about how the hell Amren knows her shoe size. She assumes the tiny fae must have bullied Azriel or someone into finding out the correct size instead of just asking Nesta outright, which actually sounds like a very ‘Amren-type-thing’ to do now that she thinks about it.

Nesta’s jaw drops as she comes face-to-face with her reflection. Amren has dressed her in a black wet-look teddy which features a low cut open bust, a criss cross neck, gold zip up front, cut out sides, criss cross back straps with O-ring details, a tie back, and a cheeky cut bottom. The way the teddy sits on her emphasizes all her curves in the best way possible, Nesta thinks as she raises her arms to adjust her hair. There is no hiding the monstrous size of her breasts with this low cut open bust. There is a perfect path of bare skin that travels from between her tits down to the visible zipper of the front. Fuck, Nesta thinks as she shifts slightly to see the back of the teddy, she looks delicious. The realization causes the already blistering temperature inside of her to somehow elevate even more. 

“If you’re finished getting dressed, come back here!” she hears Amren call from behind the mirror. With the added height provided by Nesta’s heels, she is sure that the size difference between the two females will return to the usual. Still, Amren’s presence is so strong and foreboding–especially tonight–that Nesta would rather die than point this out to her friend. Still, Nesta follows Amren’s order without question and feels a gasp escape her lips as she steps past the edge of the frame which Amren has been hanging around all night. 

“Oh my,” Nesta can’t help but say as she takes another step into the hidden part of the closet that she and Amren have been spending so much time in this evening. Lining each and every single shelf in front of her is the widest variety of sex toys that Nesta has ever seen. She always suspected that Amren was a hoarder, however, when she first formed that suspicion Nesta was thinking more along the lines of jewelry. She is not entirely sure what she should make of the display of dildos, paddles, chains, straps, vibrators, and plenty more in front of her. 

“Wha-How long have you been collecting all of this?” Nesta asks, unable to stop herself. She turns towards Armen who has been waiting for her, leaning against the only wall in this little hidden area without any shelfs occupying it.

“I’ve been alive a long time,” Amren replies, mirth filling her gaze. Nesta considers that to be a fair response.

“Anyway,” Amren starts, pushing herself off of the wall and strutting forward until she stops right in front of Nesta, “pick what calls to you, girl.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta asks for clarity while trying to keep her inner beast in-check. Nesta doesn’t even know where to begin. However, she remembers that this isn’t her first time racking her mind to try to find something that Amren has told her to, Nesta thinks back to when she was trying to feel out the location of the Ouroboros. She also ignores the utter ridiculousness of Amren’s request, does she really want Nesta to tap into this great power of hers just to find the perfect sex toy? One thing she has learned throughout her relatively short time being friends with Amren is that the other female always has her reasons. Nesta supposes she will try to do as she’s asked.

“It’s quite simple. Your magic is awake now, let it guide you,” Amren coos before brushing past Nesta, purposely bumping into her shoulder as she passes by. 

“You look great in that by the way.” Nesta jolts as a quick slap meets the flesh of her ass, turning around to find Amren laughing. She will not deny she enjoys the warmth that emerges from the affected area of her skin after the impromptu spanking. However, Nesta eyes the other female with a glare, she swears she’s never been more willing to attempt to tear Amren's throat out then she is right now. Nesta isn’t even entirely sure why, usually her subconscious would make itself known at this point to try to guide her away from such a rash decision. However, now that her soul is complete, Nesta cannot feel anything within her aside from a pleased rumble of agreement. 

“How will I know?” Nesta asks, turning back towards the treasure trove of sex toys displayed before her. 

“There is only so much I can tell you, try trusting your instincts,” Amren answers softly, the sound of her footsteps echoing as she takes a couple steps back, clearly giving Nesta space to work with.

Nesta inhales a deep breath before exhaling softly, closing her eyes so that she can try and concentrate. Nesta lifts her hands–palms up–and holds them there, her elbows remaining in a position at about the same height as her waist. She tunes out the room around her and focuses in on the flames that have been joyfully traveling around her body ever since she finally accepted their presence, she focuses in on her power, tapping into the electric bundle at her core and then refocusing her energy on the area in front of her. 

As she mentally scans the toys with her power–eyes still closed–she hopes that she is able to tap into whatever instincts Amren is referring to. As she keeps scanning though, she feels the electricity inside her getting more painful as she gets closer to a certain area. Here, Nesta knows where to go. She keeps her eyes closed as she moves in that direction, each step causing the stinging to travel to a new area of her body. Finally, Nesta opens her eyes as her stiletto covered toe meets the edge of the shelf of toys.

The sight of a black riding crop makes her mouth water, yes this, we need to use this, we need to keep others in line. To make things even better, the crop had a beautiful diamond encrusted handle. Before she has a chance to pick it up, Nesta realizes her power isn’t done screaming at her, something more, we need something else. 

“I need to pick another,” Nesta turns her head over her shoulder slightly to make eye-contact with Amren, noting that her silver eyes blink slightly in surprise before she shrugs her bare shoulders.

“As I’ve been saying the whole time, listen to your instincts,” Amren steps back up to the shelf next to Nesta, gesturing for her to carry on with her business as Amren picks up the riding crop to hold for her. 

Nesta turns back around to follow the second trail of sparks that had been nagging at her. Only after she picked up the riding crop did Nesta actually realize that she was meant to be following two different paths. Not that it matters anymore, now she knows what to do. Nesta doesn’t even bother to close her eyes, instead she makes her way straight for the shelf of strap-ons, her sights locked on this massive red dildo. 

Nesta is a bit confused though once she gets closer, although it satisfies her instincts–the fact that this is the thickest dildo she has ever seen in her life makes her clit throb–she can’t help but notice the inside of it is hollow. Nesta picks up the toy and turns back around again to ask Amren what it is.

“Oh!” Amren’s eyes light up in delight as she eyes what Nesta is holding, “I haven’t had a chance to use that with him yet, this is wonderful!”

“Why is it hollow though?” Nesta asks, a bit nervous about the fact that she thinks Amren actually skips as she makes her way over to grab the toy from Nesta. She also tries not to focus on the fact that she thinks this is the most excited she has ever seen Amren outside of her talks with Lucien about whatever sport it is that they both like. 

“Oh child,” Amren starts, the term once again annoying Nesta and causes her to roll her eyes, “this isn’t a strap on for you.”

Nesta shoots her head back up at the ancient one’s words. Oh?

She eyes Amren, who is stalling at the edge of the mirror frame.

“It’s for him,” Amren grins at her, a mischievous spark in her eye. Nesta feels another wave of heat wash over her entire body as she imagines the implications of this knowledge. However, Nesta also gets hit with a sudden sense of insecurity as Amren leaves the hidden section of the closet.

“Amren, I have a question,” Nesta calls out as she follows her. As she crosses into the other section, she spies Amren placing the toys that Nesta has selected in one of the empty spaces on the shelves between candle displays, the tiny fae’s back turned away from her. Amren sighs and lets her head hang forward before turning around to meet Nesta’s gaze. 

“What is it now, girl?” Amren is no longer hiding her impatience, not even bothering to reprimand Nesta for failing to call her Mistress. Nesta doesn’t feel bad though, how could she when she finally feels like she belongs in her own body. There is one question she still needs to ask.

“How do I know that this magic is truly my own? How do I know this was meant to belong to me?” Nesta has never felt better or more like she belongs in her body than this moment in time, she is just worried that this is a trick, that it won’t stay that way, that she’s not strong enough.

Amren glares at her as soon as Nesta finishes spitting out the question, visibly incredulous that she had the gall to even ask the question.

"I have watched many a reign come and go girl, you dare question me?" Nesta gulps as Amren storms up to her, no longer teasing in her grip as she grabs Nesta’s arm and swings her around so that she faces the mirror again. 

“I thought we went over this already but let me try to explain it one more time,” Nesta sees Amren frown through the reflection, the tiny fae standing on Nesta’s left side this time rather than behind her because of the added height of Nesta’s stilettos. 

“Close your eyes!” Amren orders. Nesta does. 

“What do you feel?” she asks, holding Nesta at the waist as she massages little circles into the skin of Nesta’s hips, visible through the cutouts of her teddy.

Nesta sighs before emptying her mind, trying to focus purely on her inner core.

“I feel fire, it's everywhere. My nipples are hard, my pussy is wet, and it feels like my flesh is being scorched from within, I want-” Nesta cuts herself off. She wants so much. She wants to dominate, she wants to take, she wants to own, Nesta can’t even keep up with all the urges running past her mind, she knows for sure though that she’s never felt more hungry than she is in this moment. 

“Open your eyes, girl," Amren orders just as Nests feels like the fire in her chest is about to break past her ribcage. Again, if it was any other time Nesta would rip her a new one for continuing to call her ‘girl’. Now though, what other option does she have other than to listen?

Nesta opens her eyes and is met with their reflection, flames clearly dancing within her gray-blue hues. 

"Your power wants to work with you,” Amren hisses, splaying one of her hands on the bare skin below Nesta’s breasts, “it's meant for you to wield."

 "Feel this?" Amren presses her palm into the region above Nesta’s pelvic bone, the added pressure sending waves of pleasure towards her cunt, her nipples raging with electricity as they beg for similar attention. 

“Feel how good it aches," Amren whispers, moving her other hand to play with the zipper on Nesta’s front. She cries out a moan as Amren adds even more pressure to the area above her pelvic region, I do feel. 

"Feel how it makes your body cry for more?" she asks, and Nesta is starving. 

"This is what true power feels like girl, this is the feeling that men climb, cry and fight for, but they always fail," Amren brings her lips to Nesta’s ear and Nesta would be lying if she says she’s anything other than horny as fuck. 

"But us," Amren whispers, her soft breath causing Nesta to become somehow even more sensitive than before. Amren removes her hands from Nesta’s lower body and instead brings them up to slide beneath the fabric of her teddy, the cut providing easy access to her breasts. 

"Creatures like you and I…," Amren continues to whisper, squeezing Nesta’s breasts a couple times as Nesta feels even more wetness pool between her folds.

"We will prevail," Amren whispers, leaving a kiss under Nesta’s ear before letting go of her and backing away, out of the mirror’s line of vision. 

“I see” Nesta closes her eyes once more and reflects. She finally thinks she gets it now, at least for the most part. Because how can she deny who she is any longer? Who is she to decide that she isn’t meant to be here? The magic is in her now, it breathes with her and it craves her every waking desire. Her journey in this new world has been like a battle between Nesta’s old beliefs, her family, and the grim reality seemingly standing before her. Now though, Nesta Archeon is done being afraid. 

She opens her eyes only to immediately realize the lighting in the room has changed. The flickering yellow-orange flames from Amren’s candles are no more, in their stead, to Nesta’s utter astonishment, are silver flames, casting the room in a flickering white glow instead. In a similar tune, almost as if her magic is rejoicing at her inner revelation, Nesta feels another round of flames lick up her inner viscera, making her insides feel warm and comforting like a hearth. This body is no vessel, it is her own flesh and blood.

“I believe it's time,” Amren says quietly, softly, like she doesn’t want to accidentally startle Nesta into closing herself off from her magic again.

“I’m ready,” Nesta replies in the same tone, nodding at Amren through the mirror to show her that she is genuinely grateful for her assistance. It is actually quite insane to think that all it took to set her head straight was to be brought to the edge of an orgasm.

“I’ll give you a minute, I’ll be waiting in the hall.”

Nesta inhales as she nods in acknowledgement, once again admiring Amren’s petite figure as the female makes her way to exit the small room. Nesta feels yet another bout of heat spurn within her as she spies Amren grabbing the toys that Nesta has selected to use for tonight before she leaves.

“Remember what you can be, girl,” Amren tosses over her shoulder just before the door slams behind her, setting silence upon the tiny room where Nesta still stands. She waits a moment, listening. Judging by the increasingly quiet clack of the tiny Fae’s heels on the wooden floor, Nesta presumes that Amren is going to place them wherever she has stashed Varian thus far. 

Nesta closes her eyes, reveling in the swirling thrum of sparks inside her, she would like to think that it is her inner beast coming to say hello, she really would. But Nesta is an intelligent woman…an intelligent woman who knows that the jump in her arousal is most definitely because she notices that the strap-on–the massive hollow toy that she intends to use tonight–is close to over half the length of Amren’s forearm. And the thickness… cauldron. She knows that a male-strap-on has to have a certain level of thickness in regards to the girth because it has to allow for a cock to fill its hollow opening. However–Nesta thinks as she opens her eyes, seeing the flames inside them staring back at her through the mirror in front of her–she wonders exactly what type of toy is hanging between Varian’s legs that requires a dildo as thick as her wrist. She is witness to her own reflection as a devilish grin forms on her own mouth–Nesta is more than ready to leave all that was before in this room. 

“It’s time,” Nesta speaks aloud to the empty room. She refuses to let herself cower in the face of power ever again, especially when it's her own. Nesta straightens her posture, taking one last look at her reflection.  

It’s time to take what she needs.

___Preview of Next Chapter____

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, did we leave you alone too long,” Amren coos to her lover. Varian sits exposed on a simple wooden chair in the middle of the couple’s bedroom. The Summer Court male’s head is hanging low, his white tendrils of hair acting like a shield in front of his face. Nesta did not pick up on any sort of response from the male that indicates that he acknowledges their presence. She takes a quick peek over at Amren and decides not to worry after finding the other female to seem emphatically unconcerned. Nesta watches on silently as the tiny fae takes a couple soft predatory steps towards the subdued male. Nonetheless, she stills to take in the view of the delicious specimen of man in front of her. Nesta can admit fully that she has never really given much thought to Varian before, not really having much time to assess him in the short three months after the war with Hybern. However, now, she can’t seem to look away from the large male’s thick muscular thighs, his heavy cock, his beautiful dark skin–fuck, Nesta feels her cunt throb in anticipation. 

“Baby boy,” Amren releases another coo, causing Varian to finally raise his gaze to meet his Mistresses and causing Nesta to shiver for a different reason entirely. Now, not only does she have a better view of the male himself, a white blindfold and ball gag rendering his sight and ability to speak obsolete; but also she can see his nostrils flaring and his muscles twitching. Nesta is absolutely enraptured in the scene in front of her as she watches Varian suddenly seem to try to lunge in Amren’s direction, the man trying and failing to get closer to her, his muscles bulging in their effort to win a one-sided battle against his restraints.

But it isn’t until Nesta spots Varian’s collar, large and heavy on his neck, that she feels her nipples harden and another bout of wetness starting to form between her folds. Here, on Varian’s neck, in Amren’s apartment in Velaris, is one of the Summer Court’s infamous blood rubies. The massive jewel's weight was supported by a two-inch thick diamond encrusted platinum band. She knows it must sit heavy on his neck, it seems almost impossible that a jewel that large could be fixed upon a collar without falling, yet there it stands.

Last Nesta had checked, the source material of Prythian’s most common nightmares had decided to use this ‘threat’ as a paperweight. Although, she can’t deny how much the pathway to her center steams at the thought of the Summer Court male being made to wear a sign of ownership stamped with the ultimate symbol of betrayal of his own court, an invocation of  a feud on a personal level.  

Nesta can’t help but muse over what the thrill of incurring such a depth of loyalty from another must taste like, she wonders too, greedily and needily what it feels like to be such a fearsome predator to surpass the laws of societal expectation. Is this Amren’s subtle yet personal way of invoking her own feud, a remnant of the possessive creature that once roamed inside of her that is furious at the land for claiming ownership of something that she marked as hers. She also wonders heatedly, enviously, what it would be like to be wanted that furiously. Need starts to play at the strings of her core, she can feel it heating and readying itself for something more.

“Don’t be shy now, boy,” Amren instructs Varian, the man immediately turning his head in the direction of her voice, clearly desperate for her touch. Nesta would be lying if she said the palpable smell and taste of his desperation didn’t cause her clit to start to throb.

The sweetness of the pair in front of her simultaneously puts Nesta on edge as well as incurs yet another thrum of heat inside of her. Amren is never sweet. Nesta watches on as her mentor finally reaches her lover–no, her pet. Amren looks Varian up and down with a hungry gleam in her eye before grabbing his chin roughly, causing what sounds like a gruff moan to escape the large man’s lips. That’s all it took? Nesta thinks to herself. 

“You haven’t even been touched boy and you’re already sweating?” Amren tuts, roughly maneuvering his chin as she gives him a thorough inspection, the male seemingly keening into the contact despite its roughness. Nesta tries not to get whiplash as Amren softly pats the male’s cheek twice with her free hand before letting it drop to rest on her waist.

“Pathetic,” the ancient one scoffs, finally releasing her other hand’s grip on his chin. 

Nesta realizes that the male in front of her is not the same one that has been a frequent guest at their dinner table over the last couple of months. No, tonight she is not looking at the same captain of Tarquin’s guard nor the commendable battle tactician that she has come to know. Instead, Nesta finds herself looking at Amren’s pet. As soon as the thought crosses her mind though, Nesta is hit by a shudder that rolls through her entire body, a shock of a reprimand from something deep in her core, something primal.No, Nesta reprimands herself, straightening her posture as she starts to make her own way towards Varian. Tonight, he is her prey.

_______________________

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher @yanny-77 @pippsmcgee @fieldofdaisiies

#poly+acotarweek2024 #acotar #acowar #nesta #vamren #amren and varian #amren acotar #amren x varian #nesta archeron #nesta x Amren x varian #nesta x amren #nesta x varian #cnm #consensual nonmonogamy #smut #acotar smut #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #nesta smut

[aho-dapa]

About the post about shipping whatever couple, I actually had to think a lot about a ship, but Lord Thanatos(or whatever his name was)'s daughter (the one from CoN who Keir said her father needed to handle with his [Keir's] help) and... Jurian (don't judge me, he seems like the impossible choice, I don't think they even have a chance to meet).

hmm a challenge indeed, but no challenge frightens me??

also because you're anon, idk where you stand but it gets very anti rhys, feyre critical, and anti sjm

omg my whole post deleted 😭 whyyy

Okay so here goes again

Lord Thanatos, his daughter, Mor, and Azriel are all planning a rebellion because Mor hates how the Hewn City is treated and Azriel has always been a pawn of the High Lords of the Night Court since serving Rhys's father (uhhhhh cassian is being a himbo and Amren is controlled by no one but her own whims)

Somehow Lucien gets in on it because he doesn't like that Rhys is manipulating Feyre with mind magic (Lucien can tell because he's has Helion's shielding powers and can protect parts of his mind from daemati abilities) and also indirectly the cause of his friend spiraling and the destruction of most of the spring court

Lucien brings Thanatos's daughter to the manor he's staying at and also tries to help Tamlin but that's where she meets Jurian

Jurian rn ain't doing too great after being an eyeball for centuries and all that, so he agrees to help when the time comes since he feels like rebellions are familiar to him and he can be useful

In which after the Night Court's horrible political moves that affected both their own court but summer and spring as well (also Helion sides with Lucien and they go on a mini quest to kill Beron with Eris helping them)

This time period is very much giving Sengoku with how many people's power and rule are being challenged and displaced

Anyway Rhys dies, Feyre is free from mind manipulation but is still also very much in love with Rhys

Due to magic succession, Mor becomes the new High Lady of the Night Court and actually changes everything for the better and also Feyre and Mor go through stuff and fall in love and raise Nyx

Thanatos's daughter becomes Steward of Hewn City and Jurian spends some time there after wandering around (Vassa rn currently is not cursed and Koschei doesn't exist)

And he finds peace in helping Hewn City (and mortal relations) rebuild itself

Maybe despite rebelling, Jurian feels out of place helping in the mortal realm because it's so different while the fae world is bitterly familiar due to how it stagnates

Instead Lucien and Vassa and Nesta (and bunch others) help with rebuilding the mortal lands near Prythian and Jurian helps when needed

But then Jurian falls for her stewardessness and finds a bit of happiness and peace they both need

#anti sjm #yooo #uh idk what to tag this #anti rhysand #acotar era

[selfindulgentfandomstuff]

🌦️🛌🎞️ !! :3

Hi Nick!! Tyy!! :D

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🌦️: Would you be accompanied by mostly fluff or angst fanfics? Both? Explain why.

I think Murdoc and Emmett would probably have more fluff fics than angst! Just bc of the fact that MacGyver is not a super angsty show, more action than anything!

That being said, there are DEFINITELY parts of Murdoc and Emmett's stories that are prime material for angst fics, namely when the Phoenix Foundation is dissolved and Murdoc goes back to federal prison (as extra angst material, keep in mind that Emmett no longer has any government clearance as a psychologist and cannot visit Murdoc at all).

Of course, it should be mentioned that most of these hypothetical angst fics probably would end in fluff, seeing as in 'canon' the Phoenix Foundation is reborn (much like its namesake) and everyone, Emmett included, gets their government clearance reinstated. More importantly, with the Foundation back and running, Murdoc's deal with the Phoenix Foundation is also put back into place and he is (mostly) free to live his life, slowly picking up the pieces of his broken past and moving on to live a mostly normal life with Emmett and Cassian (his child)!

Side Note (regarding Murdoc's aforementioned 'broken past'): there are probably a good deal of angst fics regarding Murdoc's past/childhood, given that in my 'canon' Murdoc is a more fleshed out character with a history that is more explored in 'canon'.

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🛌: What tropes show up in fics involving your ship?

Hmm to be perfectly honest, I guess I'm actually not super familiar with all the fanfic tropes out there! Sorry!! :(

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🎞️: What ‘canon’ scenes would the fandom point to as evidence for the validity of your ship?

Well, this is more applicable in the earlier stages of Murdoc and Emmett's relationship where the romance is slightly ambiguous!

I think in the very beginning when Emmett is still Murdoc's assigned prison psychologist (sent by the Phoenix Foundation to gather information about his associates and profile him), people would probably start to ship them.. honestly? like, right at the beginning, I think people would take even their first interaction with each other as evidence! You know how fandom folks are about enemies to lovers lol and that's exactly how they're portrayed in relation to each other at first: enemies, albeit in a way that definitely left a lot up to interpretation!

I think later on, when Murdoc has escaped prison and kidnaps Emmett for the first time, there are a couple of bits in this scene that would tip viewers off! Namely, when Emmett is first coming back to consciousness after having been drugged to knock them out, while they're just on the edge of lucidity, they murmur something akin to, "Why is he so pretty..?" and THAT really gets people on board with it, if they weren't before, I think.

And of course the following interactions in that scene help too; Murdoc's expression, looking at Emmett like he wants to eat them alive and of course his subsequent loss at what to do once he's run out of questions (he had exactly one), resulting in him returning Emmett home unharmed, but very confused.

To kinda hammer the point home, there is a scene where the rest of the main Phoenix Foundation team finds them, back in their apartment, completely unscathed, save for two small bandaids covering their respective needle puncture marks; they have a conversation with Mac and the rest about why Murdoc had just... left them alone, instead of torturing or killing them as was expected behavior from him and that conversation kinda has some weird romantic implications too lol

idk sorry this is so long, im just writing down whatever comes to mind and not really proof reading so sorry if this doesn't make sense!!

#i love you just a little too much #selfship #selfship asks #selfship ask game #ask game #asks #massuguni #mutuals #mutual tag #friends #friend tag

[litcityblues]

Foundation, Season 2: You Can Put The Haterade Down Now

One thing that kind of surprised me about the first season of this show was just how many haters came out of the woodwork to proclaim their disdain for it. I couldn't understand that-- the original source material covers something like a thousand years or so and had they done a page-to-screen adaptation, pure and simple, it would have been... boring, quite honestly.

No, what Apple has done is what I wish that Amazon would have done with The Wheel of Time: they've put some money behind this thing, and as a result, even if you have issues with the adaptation of the show-- which, in general, I don't, then you can at least acknowledge that it looks beautiful.

Season 2 picks up about a century after we last saw our heroes and the Second Crisis predicted by Hari Seldon (Jared Harris) is approaching. This time around, however, we get multiple Seldons. There's the one on Terminus, hanging in his vault, popping out to send mysterious messages to the waiting crowds like 'HOBER MALLOW' which people eventually figure out. It turns out, in the time jump forward, the Cleons (Lee Pace, Terrence Mann, and Cassian Bilton) have assumed that Terminus is long gone and haven't bothered to double-check, so the Foundation is now spreading the 'gospel of Seldon' as a religion to neighboring planets and is starting to attract attention. Mallow (Dmitri Leonidas)-- who isn't a priest, but a ne'er do well merchant of sorts, gets tracked down by a couple of the clerics- Poly (Kulvinder Ghir) and Constant. (Isabella Laughland)

Back on Trantor, a fresh trio of Cleons is confronted with some unusual happenings: someone sends assassins to try and kill Day, who has made the momentous decision to end the genetic dynasty and marry to produce heirs. (Also, he's sleeping with Demerzel (Laura Birn) now, which is... weird. Dusk is especially weirded out by it, but few others seem to comment on it.) Naturally, his decision to seek a bride-- in this case, Queen Sareth I (Ella Rae-Smith) of the Cloud Dominion makes Dusk and Dawn a little nervous, as once the baby is born, it sort of makes them irrelevant. Happily for them, before Day can go too much further with his plans, he catches wind of something going on in the Outer Rim and finds out that the Foundation has survived thanks to renegade General Bel Riose. (Ben Daniels)

The second one is on flooded Synnax with Gaal (Lou Llobell) and Salvor (Leah Harvey) and he's a little upset because he's been trapped inside the Prime Radiant pretty much the entire time and it hasn't been fun for him.

Gaal and Salvor do acknowledge this, but point out that they're going to need some help getting off the planet and Mobile Seldon after some reluctance- for obvious, 'you trapped me in the Prime Radiant for like a hundred years' reasons, agrees to do so. They start exploring Gaal and Salvor's mental abilities- and Gaal sees a vision from 150 years in the future where a powerful Mentalic called The Mule (Mikael Persbrandt) kills Salvor. Desperate to prevent that, they answer the mental call from the planet Ignis, where they find a colony of Mentalics, who seem welcoming at first, but their leader Tellem (Rachel House) takes them captive instead and the trio- which turns into a duo after Mobile Seldon is (seemingly) killed by Tellem have to figure out how to break free and defeat Tellem.

Eventually, they do-- but at a cost. Salvor sacrifices her life to prevent Gaal from being killed-- and proves that the future can be changed because her death now means that her vision of the future can't have come true. Gaal and Mobile Seldon agree to enter cryostasis for a century or so, waking up once a year to teach the nascent new Second Foundation.

Back with the other Seldon, the second crisis has arrived- though it doesn't go the way that Empire thinks it will though. Mallow cuts a deal with the Spacers to deny Empire the use of hyperspace and they start a chain reaction that slowly destroys the Imperial fleet, even as Empire sends the wreck of Invictus spinning down to the planet where everyone and everything is seemingly destroyed. Day is kicked out an airlock by Riose and then Mallow and Riose await their fate together while Constant is set adrift in a converted cleaning module, hoping that someone will pick her up.

On Trantor, Demerzel is outsmarted- kind of. Dusk finds out the truth about her (the standout episode, "Long Ago, Not Far Away" fills in a lot of the gaps) and her programming means that she will stay loyal to the genetic dynasty above all, so Dusk is killed to protect her secret. Sareth-- with child- and Dawn flees and Demerzel- with a copy of the Prime Radiant decants three new Emperors and just keeps on keeping on-- at least for now.

It turns out that Constant does survive and gets picked up by Seldon's vault and it turns out to be a little TARDIS-like, since it's bigger on the inside and can hold the entire populace of Terminus.

We flash forward to the future, where a crazed-looking Mule vows to find Gaal Dornick, as he senses her presence.

Overall: Look, you can put down the Haterade now, people: this is a good show. It might even wind up being a great show and-- it's not that far off from the books. It might be one of those rare adaptations that- and I realize I'm treading on some very thin ice here- improves upon the source material?

I know that's going to seem like heresy to a lot of sci-fi fans and I respect that. If Asimov is your do-or-die and you expected something closer to the books with this adaptation, I get it. You can be made-- but with adaptations, you've got to figure out how to bring new viewers in without them having to read the books first and if you're really good at what you do, you'll inspire new viewers/people who haven't read the books to maybe go check them out. Either way, I think people are going to be reading those books that maybe wouldn't have before and so, even if you disagree with it or hate the adaptation, I'm going to come down on the side of this being a good, solid adaptation-- maybe even a great one. (I mean, come on y'all: the source material did have some issues.)

That's not to say that it's not without potential problems. I don't know if you can keep leaning on Gaal Dornick if you go much beyond the next season or so. If she keeps freezing herself to jump ahead, I'm going to hope that the character at least suffers some side effects or something. It's going to start straining credibility a bit if she just keeps getting iced to go between seasons and jump ahead in time.

I'm also intrigued by the Seldon Vault and where they're going... because that is definitely not in the books either, so I'm kind of curious to see what they do with it.

My Grade: Stop hating, this is good and potentially great science fiction that while not a perfect adaptation of its source material does right by it at the very least. **** out of ****

#foundation #season 2 #review

[secret-third-thing]

hello my darling

it's me again but i promise it's the last time for a while!

do you mind if i sometimes forget/ignore the male/female instead of man/woman thing? i just forget sometimes lol and technically it's not a big deal but i'm insecure haha

i feel like there is a big trend with neris fics to be... not the most ic positive fics? and i'm not planning to bash cassian but there could be a fair amount of ic/night court criticism in the narrative or i could tone it down. what is your preference with a neris & ic dynamic?

okay that's all! love you, can't wait to get started on this!

xoxo santa

HEY! <3

You are welcome to drop in whenever you want. It doesn't have to be question related!!!

I totally do not mind about male/female man/woman! I do it myself! Or if that does not bring comfort, I can point to the fact that I've written fic that spells Graysen's name incorrectly and NO ONE TOLD ME. So I am very chill about this because if I wasn't, I'd be a huge hypocrite!!!

I personally don't have a preference - I am very much a do what serves the story best. (Also with whatever you're most comfortable doing). If you come back and you're like STT GET READY FOR A BRUTAL CHARACTER STUDY, I'd be just as eager to dive in as I would be if you didn't.

SORRY I FEEL LIKE IM BEING WISHY WASHY but the truth is that I will adore whatever you write because YOU wrote it. I'm very excited and I hope it doesn't stress you out too much!

And feel free to stop by whenever! My life is kinda absurd rn so I'm trying to escape via the internet LOL.

Have a great weekend, Santa!!

#secret santa 2023

[unhealthyfanobsession]

If you’re still taking prompts:

“Keeping a secret from your best friend is difficult... but when that secret is that you're madly in love with her, it's downright impossible. At least that's what Cassian thought, until he was a little tipsy and sharing a sleeping bag with said best friend. (College, modern AU)”

With smut please?🧎🏾‍♀️🙏🏽👀🥺

Oh hey bestie! So I think maybe you had like after a college party in mind for this but I went a… different way. Also it’s only smut-adjacent because I think good smut requires a Drabble of its own I think I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy!!!

Camping.

Nesta had two weeks between the end of her internship and the beginning of her last year of college, and somehow, she let herself get dragged along on her sister’s annual camping trip.

Their whole friend group was weird and twisted around like Ivy vines with who was closest to who, who was related to who, who was dating who, who had slept with who’s father (looking at you MOR!), and Nesta tended to avoid the big group things.

But this was only Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and the real reason she was there… Cassian. Fucking Cassian dragging her off into the woods.

Nesta loved her sisters. She did. She wouldn’t spend time with them and pretend she didn’t hate their boyfriends if she didn’t love them. (Pretending not to hate Rhys and Lucien, for Nesta, pretty much required the energy of a full time job.)

She loved her sisters. But she was there for Cassian. Because she liked Cassian. Genuinely and entirely liked him. Nesta Archeron liked another human being. They’d been best friends since eighth grade when he tried to ask her out on the swing set and she elbowed him in the jaw.

Saying yes to that middle school date would’ve been the worst mistake of her life. Because then she’d have had this short drama filled relationship with Cassian and she wouldn’t have gotten to keep him. And she really loved that she got to keep him. Even if sometimes she wished he’d been her first kiss instead of Tomas.

Anyway, when he said he was going on this camping trip Nesta realized she had to go too. Because there was no way she was spending her free time somewhere that he wasn’t. He was her person. The person she wanted to spend her free time with.

“Pathetic,” Cassian grinned, plucking the pack right off of her back as if it weighed no more than a purse. As if she hadn’t been struggling under its weight for the past 4 kilometres.

“I agreed to camping. I didn’t realize a 7 hour hike was involved to get to the damn place.”

“Two hours at most, sweetheart.” Nesta scowled, pretending, as she always did, to hate his little endearments. “And all of the best spots require a hike. Otherwise they’re overcrowded.”

“Maybe overcrowded is a good thing. Maybe overcrowded means loud and safe instead of offering ourselves up to be a bear buffet.”

“I’ll protect you from any bears, I promise, Nes.”

Nesta glared. “You’re going to fight off a bear if it tries to eat me?”

“Of course I am,” Cassian nodded. “These muscles aren’t just for show.”

Nesta laughed. “How sad I’m going to lose my best friend on this trip. Don’t worry I’ll come up with something nice for the tombstone. “Here lies Cassian. Tried to fight a bear so his muscles would have a purpose.”

“I take it back, you can get eaten by the bear.”

“I’m going to shove you in front of the bear.”

Their water break had landed then both a few hundred feet behind Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel, so Cassian kept hold of her backpack as they moved, teasing her that he was still faster with two packs than she was with none.

When they arrived at the little clearing Nesta had to admit it was beautiful. Serene. A big patch of grass surrounded by trees with a stunning view over the mountains from a clearing just a few feet away.

“Worth the hike?” Cassian asked as he set up their tent. That was the deal. If Nesta was going to camp then he had to do all of the work. Because she didn’t know how to do it. Also he had to share his tent with her because seriously? Why would she own a tent? She wasn’t a damn mountain man.

“It is really pretty.”

“I told you you’d like camping, Nesta!” Feyre called out from over fifty feet away where Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta all banded together to force her and Rhys to put their tent. Far away from the other two. Nesta was so not sleeping on the ground AND listening to her little sister have sex all night.

“Cassian?” Consciousness pulled lightly through Cassian’s sleepy mind. “Cass? CASS!” He shot bolt upright, body instinctively turning to Nesta, looking her over, checking her for injuries or any other thing that might have her yelling his name into the pitch black tent.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Cassian laughed. It was probably 3am and she’d just woken him up, and still he was laughing. Man he had it bad.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He made a show of flipping around to face her even though he couldn’t really see her.

“I’m freezing.”

As his eyes adjusted, Cassian looked her over with a frown. She was bundled up in her sleeping bag, wearing his sweater… which he hadn’t given her, but he had discarded in between them before he went to sleep so that was fair game he guessed. It was far from the first time in over a decade of friendship that she’d stolen his sweater, but man… it still did something to him.

“Your sleeping bag isn’t made for below freezing temperatures, is it?”

Nesta stared at him. Blinked. “No. Why would it have to be? It’s August!”

“It’s colder up in the mountains,” Cassian explained. “Especially over night.”

“Great. I’ve been brought into the mountains to freeze to death and now Eris is going to win the gold medal for our year.”

Cassian laughed, “Well I can’t allow that. The horror.” This was probably a bad idea. No it was definitely a bad idea, but the words couldn’t be stopped from leaving his mouth once they popped into his mind. “Come share mine.”

Cassian half unzipped his sleeping bag and made a show of shuffling himself over.

“You’re too big.” She said.

“Thanks I work out,” Nesta glared at his cocky smirk. “Come on Nes, it’s this or letting Eris win the gold medal.”

Nesta huffed, but unzipped her sleeping bag and crawled over to his, her legs were cool as they tangled with his in the tight sleeping bag. Cassian pulled her in, one arm wrapping instinctively around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, before he zipped the sleeping bag up again after her.

This had been such a bad idea. But what could he do? Let her freeze?

Cassian told Nesta everything, so it was already difficult enough to be keeping a secret from his best friend... but when that secret was that he had been madly in love with her since middle school, the situation became impossible. And pulling her perfect body tight up against his and wrapping her in his arms, hands moving up and down her shoulders quickly to try and warm her up, was not helping the situation.

“Thanks,” Nesta murmured sleepily. “I’m already a lot more comfortable.”

Me too, Cassian thought but would never say.

“Hey Cass?” Nesta’s voice was teasing. “What do we do if you wake up with morning wood?”

Cassian chuckled into her hair, a little bit drunk on the familiar scent of rosehips and iron will.

“Then I guess we’ll finally have sex.” He deadpanned.

Nesta’s jaw dropped. Ok. Bad joke. “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a tent Cassian!”

Now Cassian’s jaw dropped. That was her issue with his suggestion? “I… Nesta I was joking. But… the tent is the problem? The only problem?”

“Grow a pair!” Nesta batted at him with her hand, an impressive feat considering she was all but pinned between him and the sleeping bag. “I thought this was you finally making a move.”

Cassian stared down at her. It was pitch black, but even with just the shadowy outlines of her features, he could see her exact expression in his mind.

“I wouldn’t use you freezing as a ploy to make a move, Nesta.”

“And why not?” She humphed, “it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It’s… coercive.”

“Do I look coerced to you, Cassian?” Nesta ran her foot up his bare calf and Cassian shuddered.

“I can’t have sex with you if you’re looking for a friends with benefits, Nes.” Nesta paused her movements. “I… fuck, our friendship means so much to me and I’m so afraid to fuck it up. And if we start having sex I won’t be able to handle it being just sex and you’ll start to resent me so we just… shouldn’t go there.”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around him now, struggling to span the full width of his chest. “And if it wasn’t just sex?”

“Please don’t fuck with me about this,” he whispered. Low and Ernest in a way he almost never was.

“What?”

“Dont joke about this if you’re playing around or I don’t… you have to know, Nes. You have to know how completely in love with you I am.”

“Yeah,” Nesta tucked her head under his chin. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move.”

It was dark. Cassian could barely see her. But there, with his arms around his best friend in the world, sharing a sleeping bag to keep her warm, Cassian nudged her out of his chest and found her lips in the pitch black.

Why had he kept this secret for so long? Everything in the world was better when he was kissing his best friend.

#nessian #drabbles open #nesta archeron #acosf #nessian fanfiction #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar #feysand

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fanfic #nessian au

[bloodycassian]

LEATHERBOUND - Reader x Cassian - (I think I missed this request but I think someone req’d something similar) Reader is a librarian in Illyria when Cassian comes in asking for help finding something.

Cassian's favorite time of year in Illyria was the winter days where the sun was out. The winds were harsh enough to stun his wings, but the rays from the sun were warm enough for a perfect contrast. Not letting him freeze, but not letting him get too hot either. 

The muddiness also became packed ice instead of the mess it had been over the summer. It was still messy in the more trafficked areas, but not nearly as bad. He couldn't hide the joy that rept into his heart at the sight of so many Illyrians taking joy in the season. Small winged children threw snowballs at passerbys from a ledge. A broad winged male scared them off with a flyover. Cassian entered the small shop, the smell of dust and worn carpet whirled around him. It was comforting in a strange way. It reminded him of being a child. Innocent and curiously exploring different shops at his home.

The bell above rang in a dull tone. He looked up and saw the shotty repair job on the ringer. Not exactly as it had been when he was a child, it seemed. "Stay right there!" You called from the back, putting away the stack of books you held. They clattered into the bin loudly. The sound of rustling made him curious.

"I'm just here for-" He called, starting to step further into the room. The books lined the short walls, and the stacks in the middle looked percaiously stacked. They were organized, but the bottom of the stack seemed stained. He doubted the resources for another bookcase were available. 

"I know, just dont move. I just cleaned the carpet." You brought a towel from the front desk over and placed it beside the small outcropping of hard wood you had laid out for anyone first entering the store. "This is the last building in Illyria with carpets. I'd like to keep it that way." You said when the dark haired male gave you a pinched look. He bent and began taking off his boots. Boots that looked far too new for the likes of an Illyrian. 

Watching him do so, you noticed the two Siphons on his hands. Then the one on his knee. Your head went fuzzy. What had you done to deserve a visit from the Lord of Bloodshed? He noticed your stare and gave you a wolfish smile. You didn't flinch away from it. The wind howled at the gaps in the stone, and you cleared your throat.

"So what do you need?" You asked, crossing your hands behind your back. Ready to be of service. Hopefully he wouldn't demand too much of your small store.

"You said you knew. So you tell me." He said with a sly smile. You stammered, sweat slicking your palms. "I didnt mean- We have several ah..." You looked away, at the different categories of spellbooks and history of Prythian. Shame fell in your gut at the bottom layers of books that made the stack in the middle of the room.

"I'm looking for a cookbook. One with Illyrian recipes." He stepped to the carpet, his dark socks immaculate against the worn pattern. 

"Is the high lord a fan of home made treats?" You laughed at the odd request. Then covered your mouth, the embarrassment turned your ears red. "I'm sorry-" "No, its fine." Cassian chuckled, pulling a book off a shelf. It was of the first war, and was bound in dark leather. "He does. But the book isn't for him. The high ladies sister, actually." 

The one of hellfire and stone or the one that seemed to be a ghost? You dared not question him. "A solstice gift?" You asked, showing him over to the small cooking section you had obtained over centuries. They weren't of much use in Illyria, but the few travelers found them fascinating. 

"Yes, she's had a rough year." His voice was somber, but the hope still lingered in his eyes.

You let the words sink in. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, his presence was warm and welcoming, actually. As if he was putting off a vibe of 'I'm safe.' You handed him a complete cookbook full of basic recipes and baking. The cover was so worn the title was unreadable. Dark spots stained the inner pages, you knew because you'd borrowed the book several times. "We all have." He flicked through it for a moment, smiling. His teeth were immaculate, and a bit extra pointy on his canines. The sight of them sent a thrill through you.

"I recommend the sweet dough. It's spice free, the only thing you need for it is pine needles and sap." You flicked the pages to one you had bookmarked. The opposite side was full of different types of cakes to make with minimal ingredients. 

"I'm too familiar with it." He laughed, shaking his head. Some fond memories from long ago lingered there. He could recall the scent of the bread with full accuracy. The way it the needles would char on top of the dough if there were too many. 

"How much do I owe you?" He pinned the leather under his arm and pulled a satchel from his pocket. Your heart raced at the glimpse of so many gold coins there. 

"Ah- it'll be Twenty silvers." You said, embarrassment coating your tongue. He didnt even look like he was carrying and silver. He eyed you speculatively. "Twenty silvers for a full book?" He asked. You nodded, trying not to wring your hands. He fished a gold coin from the pouch and held it out to you. "Let me get you some change... it may take a second." You fumbled to the desk where you kept your coin inside a spellbound box. 

"Dont worry about it. I'll be back another time." He called, setting the book on the floor to pull on his shoes. "Lord Cas-" You began to protest.

"Just Cassian." He corrected, grunting as he pulled on the boots. "Call it a tab." He winked and eyed the ripped, hole filled curtains of the front window. How they swayed in the breeze that drifted in from the rocks. 

"I'll be seeing you." His eyes scanned you, and you nodded. "Be seeing you." You said back, your mouth dry. He was intimidating in the ways you'd never thought of. Not in a scary way, but in a sly way that made your heart race. The bell over his head dinged hollowly as he exited, shoving the book into his backpack. You tried not to stare as he left. 

+ The Solstice party was a success as it normally was. Nesta kept to herself in the corner with Amren while everyone else exchanged gifts. Elain's eyes lit up at the book, and she hugged Cassian with heart. "I'll be making you something tomorrow." She promised. Cassian felt the flicker of cold over him and shot Az a look. They glowered at one another. 

Rhys leveled a look at both of them that got them to straighten up. Feyre handed out mugs of hot cider. Mor brought around a bottle of liquor to mix with it. The night was warm with friends and joy. Besides the cold corner where Nesta sat. Cassian did his best to ignore it. As did everyone else. 

He was nearly the last to leave. The cider had effected him more than he thought. But it warmed his insides against the cold wind of Velaris. He wrapped his wings around himself to shield from the cold. He thought of the librarian who had given him the book. His mind drifted to the rest of that day, how Devlon had even seemed cheerful. 

He wondered if you were doing anything, if you had any family celebrating with you. If you had a mate that spoiled you. His heart kicked up at the thought of it. He hadn't noticed a ring...or any tattoos to signify a mating bond. He couldn't recall much else. He had been stunned by the beauty and simplicity of you and your shop. He couldnt remember if you had wings. 

The frustration ate at him. He had to know more. He needed to know if you had a good solstice. He made a plan. "It would be good karma" He told himself, entering one of the several shops on the way to the townhome. His excitement made it nearly impossible to sleep that night. + "Happy solstice." A voice called from the front door. You hadn't heard the bell chime. 

You rushed to the front, making sure that the carpet hadn't been ruined. The curtains whipped from the wind outside. The enormous Illyrian shut the door with a firm gentleness that made your heart race. His hands wrapped around a small wooden box. Well, it was small in his hands. 

"It's the day after solstice. Happy late solstice." You corrected, striding over to him and giving him a look about the shoes. They looked incredibly clean. "You still need to take them off." 

"I know. You need to open this first." He forced the box upon you and stooped to begin unlacing the boots.  "What-"

"Just open it." He stood and followed you to the counter. Heat flooded your cheeks, you hadn't gotten him anything. Not that you could afford it, or even knew what he would want. "Why did you get this?" You asked, trying to hide the tension in your voice.

"So you dont have to cook that sweetbread again." He said with a grin, staring at you. At how your hands delicately removed the lid from the box. Then at your stunned reaction at the waft of spices that spilled from the box. "Cassian-" You breathed, utterly speechless. 

"I have a request too...So you can't say its too much. It's for me too." He went to the shelf where he'd gotten the cookbook for Elain. "Make us these, and we'll call it even."

"Cassian... I'm not a cook. I dont bake." You laughed when he pointed at the spice cakes in the book. "Maybe ask the sister-" You pushed the box toward him, the heaviness of it screamed 'expensive' to you. Guilt marred the joy of receiving the gift.

He pushed it firmly back to you, locking eyes. He noted the way you tensed at that stare. He eased, trying to ignore the scent mixing with the smell of leather and spice. "I want you to make it, using these." He patted the top of the box. 

You debated with yourself. The male carried around more gold than you'd ever seen. And he wasn't worried about it. You figured if it was a gift then he genuinely wanted you to have it. You sighed and took the box, placing it under the shelf beside your bag. Your wings pinched at the movement. 

You ignored how his eyes lingered on your scarred members. You were used to it from some males, but never one as important and high ranking as him. He shook himself and refocused, pulling himself out of the rage he was feeling at the sight of your ruined wings. 

"Any other requests?" You sighed, feigning annoyance. His toothy grin made your stomach do flips. 

#acotar fic #reader x cassian #acotar #cassian

[libraryofnesta]

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

-

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun.  She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass.  She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun.  He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00.  She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small.  Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small.  The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.  

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

#nessian #nessian angst #nessian au #nessian fanfic #nessian fanfiction #nessian modern au #nessian trash #nessian supremacy #nessian headcanons #nessian headcanon #nessian masterlist #nesta archeron #nesta #nesta x gwyn x emerie #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #acosf #tied to ruin

[talkfantasytome]

PART THREE PART THREE PART THREE. I will sell my kidneys, organs, my stupid heart for a part three in the vacation Nesta and Cassian. Time for Cassian to put on his moves and maybe Cassian POV? I love simping cassian as much as I love a sexy Cassian.

Combining also with this one:

There's also another ask for this, but it didn't specify part 3, so I will be doing a part 4 to answer that one. XD

Part 1 | Part 2 | Read on AO3

Cassian didn't give a fuck.

Not a single one.

He couldn't care less how obvious he was being. Not when the woman in front of him was happy to entertain.

It didn't matter that they were at different tables, supposedly engaged in separate conversations. No, so long as they maintained eye contact, they were in their own world, and no one else mattered.

It had been bad enough that afternoon, seeing her lounge by the pool so close to where he and his brothers were swimming. Book in hand, yet clearly not making a dent in it. She was too busy glancing up at something.

At what, specifically, he couldn't be entirely sure - those damn sunglasses. But, he had a feeling that her eyes met his a few too many times to be a coincidence. He sure as hell hadn't been able to stop himself from looking over at her continuously throughout the entire hour she sat there. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad luck that had her leaving before the rest of her friends.

He felt his eyes darken as her lips wrapped around her straw, holding her smirk as she took a sip of her cocktail. His breathing went ragged when she licked her lips and his heart all but stopped when she then bit down.

He was going to die.

This woman, with her storm cloud eyes and sensuous mouth, was going to be the death of him, and he hadn't even gotten her name.

Cassian was just about to stand up and do something about this situation when the redheaded girl next to his death pointed excitedly behind them and the three girls all stood up and made their way over to the railing of the deck, looking out to the ocean.

Smart girls, to bring their things and drinks, because not a minute later their table was taken by two couples, and suddenly Cassian didn't care much about his seat.

"Look at that, from best to worst seats in the house in thirty seconds flat," Rhys sighed, leaning back against his seat.

Cassian laughed and stood up, his brothers' eyes following him.

"Where are you going?" Az asked.

"To go find where the best seat is now." He winked at his brothers and then walked toward where the girls stood, taking in the back of his lady death's dress for the first time.

It was a fact. She truly was trying to kill him.

Because where the back was supposed to be, it was essentially just all skin. All smooth, perfectly golden-tanned skin. He couldn't stop himself from imaging running his hand across that back, down her perfect little ass, and resting on the thigh just beneath, right around where the hem of the dress brushed. And shit, was that dress short in exactly the right way, showing off long legs that would wrap so perfectly around him.

Oh, he was so screwed.

A smart man would stop walking. Would pivot, grab a drink, and maybe find a girl that wasn't likely to be the end of him. Someone safer.

It was safe to say that, tonight, Cassian was not a smart man.

Not as he, instead, counted his blessing that she stood to the left of her friends, instead of remaining in the middle. And certainly not as he settled himself against the railing next to her, purposefully keeping his eyes on the horizon.

She stiffened beside him, also refusing to look directly at him, but he had a feeling he knew who had taken the spot beside her.

"Beautiful view," he noted.

"It is," she agreed. "And you just missed the whale."

"The whale?"

He could see in his peripheral that she nodded. "Well, its tail. And it was pretty far out, but it was clearly a whale's tale that came up out of the water and then splashed back down. Like it was waving at us."

A smile tugged at his lips at that comment. "I'm sure it was." He finally felt her shift, her gaze landing on him, so he turned to look at her, unprepared for what he found.

Yes, he'd already seen those blue-grey eyes, tantalizing and taunting as she'd sipped her drink, but now they were something else as they assessed him so thoroughly he felt as if he were naked and needed to cover himself.

Still, he held her stare, putting on a lazy, cocky smile. "I'm Cassian," he offered, resting one arm on the railing as he studied her. The way her pupils dilated as she looked at him, how her eyes shifted just slightly at the comment, or how her mouth twitched for the tiniest second upward before she schooled herself again.

"Nice name," she replied, her own body mirroring his stance.

"Surely not as lovely as yours." He'd leaned in slightly to say the words at a lower register, and regretted it almost immediately when the woman practically cackled in his ear.

He winced as he pulled away, and the girl's face seemed to soften at that. "I'm sorry," she sighed, covering her mouth with her hand. "I was just expecting a better line."

Cassian couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "So, you spend at least five minutes taunting me from your table, only to insult me when I finally come up to talk to you. How's that seduction technique working out for you?"

"I'll tell you in the morning." She smirked up at him, her eyes lit with amusement. "I'm Nesta."

"Well, I wasn't wrong then." He smiled down at her, risking a step closer, sliding his beer down the railing with his arm.

A wicked gleam flashed in her eyes, even as she helped in bridging the gap with her own step. "No, looks like I was the only one with too high of expectations."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll exceed them in many other ways." Her breasts were just barely brushing his chest, so Cassian moved, one final step, so that their bodies were all but pressed against each other, knowing exactly what she would be feeling.

A soft gasp escaped Nesta's lips, an accidental slip up from the cool exterior she'd been presenting. But she didn't let it deter her.

"Perhaps I have a problem expecting too much," she rasped. "How do you know I haven't made it impossible to even meet them?"

His eyes widened at the challenge, but Cassian's lips only fell into a half-smile he was sure would drive her crazy as he leaned in, bringing his mouth once again to her ear. "I guarantee I'll find a way." He felt Nesta's body sway into him slightly, as if her instinct was to melt into his touch, and he let his free arm wrap around her waist to steady her as she attempted to pull back to quickly. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

Cassian watched as Nesta's cheeks flushed with pink, his heart racing at the sight. His arousal building enough to keep him from feeling triumphant at rendering her speechless. Mostly.

A loud round of laughter broke through their silent staring contest, causing both Nesta and Cassian to snap their heads toward the sound, and he finally noticed the group standing near them. It appeared that Rhys and Azriel had finally worked up the courage to go talk to the two girls they'd been eyeing all day, and the four of them were engaged in conversation together.

Nesta stiffened at the sight, taking a small step back. Not enough to pull out of Cassian's arm, but enough to allow the breeze in, chilling Cassian slightly despite the tepid temperature.

"Nesta!" the redheaded girl suddenly called, turning to look at them both. Nesta quickly pivoted in his arm, facing her friends and his brothers, and it made Cassian feel empty, to lose her gaze and focus. "Come join us! We're comparing favorite bars!"

Sighing, Nesta started toward their friends, laying a hand over Cassian's on her waist, letting him know to keep it there and walk with her. He was certain muscles loosened that he hadn't realized he'd tensed at that touch.

"Why on earth would you be comparing bars?" she asked skeptically.

"Rhys and Az live in Philly, too!" the girl almost identical to Nesta, but with softer lines and a clearly younger face explained.

"I'm Rhys, by the way," his brother standing to that girl's right offered, violet eyes focused on Nesta for a moment. "And this is Az." He motioned to their other brother, who was standing between Nesta's mini-me and the redhead. "Since Feyre darling didn't mention that."

The girl - Feyre - rolled her eyes, but Nesta offered him a small chuckle. "Nesta," she said, in a tone that said she knew it was obvious. "Feyre, Gwyn, this is Cassian. Cassian, this is my little sister Feyre, and one of my soul sisters, Gwyn."

"Younger!" Feyre corrected.

"And little. You are shorter," Nesta teased, grinning at the girl before turning back to Cassian. "Do you live in Philly too, then?"

Cassian couldn't help but smile as it all hit him. "Yeah, I do."

They lived in the same city. Or close enough to it.

And suddenly everything changed.

@generalnesta

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta and cassian #nesta x cassian #nessian fic #resort au #feysand #gwynriel #fanfic prompt #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

[wilteddaisies]

Yours - Chapter Two

Azriel x Female!Reader (acotar)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You are Feysand’s daughter and you’ve just come home from your studies in the Day Court. Azriel needs someone with extensive training in magic in order to complete a mission for the Night Court. You happen to be just what he needs.

Fic Warnings: age gap?, probably cursing, eventual smut, wing kink ;)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, injury, mentions of blood, angst, masturbation

Note: Finally more Azriel! It was surprisingly hard to hold myself back while writing this chapter. I wanted to write the angst and the pining, but in my head I just wanted them to love each other already lol. But don’t worry, that part will come soon ;). It won’t be the only thing coming soon. Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER TWO

As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, you realised that you really did look like a mess. Your eyes had dark circles under them and your whole body seemed to sag with exhaustion. You turned the water to practically scalding, waiting a moment for it to heat up before you stripped off your dress and then followed with your undergarments. You stepped into the steaming shower and hissed as the water hit your body. Your muscles sang in thanks to the scalding shower. 

After using your favorite jasmine scented soap, you finished up and stepped out of the shower. You dried off but then quickly realised that you forgot to bring clean clothes into the bathroom with you. Cursing, you wrapped your towel around you and reached for the door knob. Hopefully, Azriel was still passed out and you could just grab the clothes. 

But, when you pushed the door open, you found him sitting upright on the bed. Forgetting your state of undress, you rushed over to him.

“Az, you're awake!” You tried to gently push him back down to the bed. “Lay back down before you strain your back or your wing.” But, he resisted, taking your hands in his instead. He took note of your appearance, his words escaping him for a moment at the sight of your flushed cheeks, damp hair, and bare legs. He tore his eyes away from where the towel was struggling to conceal your breasts and cleared his head.

“Did you do this?” He looked at his nearly healed wing. You nodded. “How. . .” he began, “How long was I out for?” 

You glanced at the clock on your dresser. “Just a few hours.” you shrugged. 

“You managed to almost completely heal my wing in just a few hours?” He looked at you with a peculiar expression on his face. Was that awe? Admiration? Surely not. You looked down, trying to hide your blush and you nodded again.

“I may have learned a thing or two in the Day Court.” you said with a little smirk. But you should be proud, even Helion praised you for your ability to pick up magical techniques so quickly. 

“You certainly did.” That was definitely a new look. Azriel looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “Maybe you can fix these hands next.” he says jokingly but also with a sad sincerity. You look at his scarred hands still holding your own. He looks too, as if remembering that he still held them. His brows furrow at them, as if he resents that his rough scars are touching your smooth, unblemished hands and tries to pull them away but you don’t let him, holding on with a gentle firmness. 

“No, Az. Please. Don’t pull away, not from me.” You tried not to be hurt by his actions, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with his scars but that he was ashamed of them. But, he shouldn’t be ashamed of them. Those were the same hands that fought to protect Prythian in two wars, the same hands that carried you over Velaris to go on adventures in the city while your parents were busy, the same hands that held you steady as you were learning to fly, and they were the hands of the person you loved so deeply with your entire being. You raised his left hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to each and every scar littering the back of his hand, his knuckles, his fingers, and his palm. Then you did the same to his right hand. 

When you looked back up to meet his eyes, you saw that tears were falling from them. Azriel, who never cried, was weeping in front of you. And the sight shattered your heart. Had no one ever shown him this love? How often did he feel loved and secure and appreciated? Not nearly enough, not by a long shot. 

You took his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist. They immediately tightened, drawing you closer. Your breath hitched for a moment, but you leaned in to kiss his cheeks, trying to catch each tear. Your arms snaked around his neck and as you met his eyes once again. But this time, along with adoration, you found smoldering intensity. Your gaze drifted down towards his lips and ever so slowly, you leaned towards them. They seemed so warm and inviting, plump and slightly parted as he was breathing a little heavier. Your eyes drifted shut as your lips finally brushed his. For a moment, you savored them, their softness, their taste. But they had only just touched when he pulled away, gently pushing you away with his hands that were just around your waist. 

As your contact broke, shame coursed through you, you took a few steps back, adjusting your towel. Fuck. It was the wrong thing to do. You must have misread the atmosphere in the room. You opened your eyes but kept them glued to the floor, slightly panting from the moment you just shared. 

“I-” His voice sounded choked and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “We can’t. . . We shouldn’t have-”

“I know,” you interrupted, curt. And there you were, with him still sitting on the edge of the bed and you nearly four feet away. The awkward silence that ensued was unbearable. 

 “I should-”

“You should-”

More awkward silence. . .

He sighed. “I should go.” Azriel stood up and turned towards the door. You looked at him again.

“But your wing-”

“Is practically healed, thanks to you. I’ll be fine. Thank you, truly. I don’t know

what might have happened if you hadn’t been here.”

You blushed at his praise. He looked at you as if he wanted to say more, but then thought better of it. He gave you one last smile and walked out of your room, shutting the door. You slumped down onto your bed and tried to forget his rejection.

You tossed and turned in your sheets, gods damn it you couldn’t fall asleep. After using magic to clean Azriel’s blood from your sheets, you got dressed and practically fell into bed, thinking that the exhaustion of using your magic would pull you under. But no, your pulse was still racing, your skin still burned from his touch, and your core ached every time your thoughts drifted back to the feeling of his lips on yours, of his hands tightening around your waist. You pressed your thighs together hoping to relieve the pressure but it just made you yearn even more for his touch. Your thoughts drifted even further, to the image of his sculpted abs on display, even more defined with the gleam of sweat. You wondered how they would look above you, with his muscled arms on either side of your head while he pounded into your- 

Fuck. You gave in. Your legs spread and your fingers drifted towards your center to find yourself unsurprisingly wet. You moan softly as you imagine your fingers as Azriel’s. You teased your clit, lightly petting it before drawing circles around it. You lightly jolted at the zap of pleasure. Your free hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that escaped you. You slid one finger inside you with ease, then another, hissing at the pleasant stretch. You thought of his eyes, their smoldering hazel seeming so deep you could see into his very soul.

You adjusted the angle of your hand so that your palm pressed against your swollen clit with every movement. You felt a tightening in your stomach, you writhed as your core tightened further, and clamped down on your fingers as you finally fell over the edge. You bite on your hand to keep from crying out in pleasure. Your thoughts are still on him as you come down, your pussy throbbing and legs trembling with the aftershocks. You leave your fingers inside you for a moment more before pulling them out, savoring the feeling of the slight stretch of your walls and how you could feel yourself throbbing around your fingers. 

Fuck, you wish it was him. You feel tears start to well in your eyes and your heart cracks at the realisation that he will never be yours, never love you as you love him. He’s one of your father’s best friends, he’ll never see you as anything other than a child. You know this and yet you still want him, yearn for him, need him. You fall asleep on a damp pillow. 

You wake up the next day with not nearly enough sleep, but you got up anyway at the sound of talking from downstairs. You threw on a robe and left your room to find out what was going on. Still trying to shake off the haze of sleep, you trudged into the dining hall, which had now been turned into a makeshift meeting area. Your mother, father, Mor, Amren, Cassian, and Azriel stood around the mahogany table which was covered with books, maps, and other various papers. You tried to avoid Azriel’s gaze, not that it was difficult, he seemed determined to look at everything else other than you.

“Perhaps it could be sedated with a poisoned arrow,” Mor suggested.

“Tried that,” Az countered, “the thing just knocked the arrows away, as if it was swatting flies, and any arrows that made their mark merely bounced off of its hide.”

“Shit,” Feyre huffed. She was the first to notice your quiet entrance. “Sweetheart, what are you doing? Go back to bed, you must be exhausted from using so much magic.” She walked over to where you stood at the entrance of the dining hall and embraced you. You leaned in to her comforting touch, but as much as you wanted to rest, you knew you couldn’t until you figured out what to do about Azriel’s mission. 

“I can’t, mom. There’s work to be done.” You gently escaped her hold to peer over the documents on the table. Maps, more maps, a blueprint of the castle’s underground chambers, and was that-

“A wyvern,” Cassian answered your unspoken question. The beast in the ancient drawings looked ferocious. That was the thing that Azriel had tried to bypass in order to access the weapon? How had he even managed to fly or winnow home? 

“We just have to find a way to get around the bloody thing,” Amren huffed in annoyance. “It’s fast, and strong. Even against a fae. Maybe we could get Helion to brew us an airborne potion or maybe come up with a weapon that can be used against it. But he’s dealing with trouble in his own court at the moment, it could take weeks to even-”

“Let me go.” The silence was instantaneous. All eyes snapped to you. “I can use my magic to subdue it. Or I could try to talk to it.” The wariness in their eyes turned to confusion. 

“Huh?” The confused sound came from Cassian this time. “Did I hear that wrong or did you say you could talk to it.”

You smiled, “Being a daemati is good for reading more minds than just those of the fae and humans.” Everyone looked to Rhys, who thought about it for a moment. 

He finally shrugged, “I guess I never cared enough to try. But, in that case, I’ll just go with Azriel instead.”

“Dad, no-” But your mother already beat you to it. 

“Oh come on, Rhys. You were doing things much more dangerous than fighting wyverns at her age.” She took his hand and pleaded to him with those gorgeous blue eyes that you inherited, batting her eyelashes, as if it would help convince him. It would. “We had our epic adventure. Maybe it’s time for our daughter to have one of her own.” 

He looked like he was going to argue, but then he looked at you, the spitting image of your mother with a temper to match, and with his own midnight black hair. He looked at you and saw the strength that you inherited from both of them. It was his duty as a father to protect you from harm, but it was also his duty to help you grow, whether it be as a woman, a fae, or a warrior. He finally sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But,” he turned to Azriel with a glare icy enough to rival Azriel’s own signature glower, “you bring her back in one piece. Or I will feed you to the wyvern myself. Or worse, I’ll hand you over to Feyre.” Your mothers face broke into a wicked grin and you could see there was some truth in his words. 

You squealed and hugged your father, then your mother. And then you looked to Azriel, who had been ignoring you the entire time, but finally looked up to meet your gaze. 

And with just a touch of a mischievous glint in his eyes he said, “Let’s go on an adventure.”

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading and for the notes on the last part! I am SO FUCKING excited for this next chapter, I absolutely loved writing it. If you wanna to be added to the taglist for this fic, you can leave comment below :)

I do not consent for my work to be reposted or translated on tumblr or any other site, but reblogs are always welcome!

Taglist:  @moonchild-cf​ @pansexual-booknerd​ @huffypuffyme @tinkymae​  @peneflop​  @myfuckingacademia

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel smut #azriel fluff #sarah j maas #feysand #nessian #acowar #acomaf #fanfic #illyrian #my writing

[mardereads19]

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 3:

Azriel followed the carriage silently, winnowing from tree to tree, his shadows informing him Elain was in position and ready. He didn’t feel comfortable in letting her do this, but he also trusted her to do her part well. She was more than capable, more than prepared. He had trained her, after all.

Well, he hadn’t been the only one. Elain had revealed to him that she had been training in secret for a while with Nuala and Cerridwen. They’d done a good job. He made a mental note to give them a bonus come Calanmai.

Also to reprimand them for keeping secrets while being his spies.

The sun had already set and there was no moon tonight, giving Azriel the perfect cover from the males Elain had to distract and dupe into giving away what they knew.

“If these males are being controlled by Koschei, will it even make sense to kidnap them?” Feyre had asked on their meeting in Rhys’s study this afternoon. Azriel had been quietly observing and listening to the plans his High Lord had been piecing together. “At least, when Briallyn had control over Eris’s males—”

“And me,” Cassian had supplied from where he stood next to his mate, his arms crossed over his chest and face contemplative. Az had noted the way Nesta’s jaw clenched and her eyes shined silver for a second. The need to kill. The drive to eradicate the threat against her mate. Az had looked away.

Feyre had nodded. She’d looked tired, an expression that’d been mirrored in Rhys. The baby kept us awake all night. He wouldn’t stop crying, Rhys had told him earlier, but there had been light in his eyes, a quiet happiness even as he’d yawned.

Az had not seen his brother yawn in a while.

“And Cassian,” Feyre had added, a spark of anger in her eyes, “they would not talk.”

Az had agreed, “When we brought them to the Hewn City, they hadn’t given anything away.”

There’d been a silence for a moment. They had all, save for Nesta, witnessed Azriel’s administrations to the males of Autumn. No torture had gotten them to open their mouths, to reveal who had sent them after the mask. Feyre had pointed out how wrong it was to do that to them when they were not themselves.

Nesta had sat up straighter in her chair in the study before saying, “But what if they are being partially controlled?”

Rhys had raised his eyebrows.

Nesta had stood, Cassian reaching for her hand. Nesta let their fingers intertwine. It had brought a small pang of envy into Az’s heart. He’d pushed it away. “Bellius,” she said with disgust, “that male from the Blood Rite. He constantly mocked us, tried to rile us up. Sometimes I wonder if he gave too much away.”

Rhys had frowned. “Perhaps he wasn’t being controlled. He was only in on the plan.”

“He was being controlled,” Nesta insisted. Her gaze had been unfocused, as if lost in the memories. Cassian’s wings shifted. “He had that glassy look in his eyes that were on the Autumn Court males. I noticed it from the first time I met him. I thought he had been drunk at first.” She had blinked and, as if remembering where she was, had turned to Cass. He had pulled her closer to him, his eyes reassuring her.

Amren’s lips had twisted upwards in what might have been a smile before she turned to Rhys. “So there is a possibility that Koschei only partially controls these Fae, especially if they are far away from where he is located now. His grasp on them through his power may be less strong, perhaps allowing them the freedom to speak, like that male from the Blood Rite. What would you plan now?”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Feyre had contributed. “The Crown may not work the same way Koschei’s powers could. He could still have full influence over them.”

“Koschei is a death god,” Rhys had said, “I don’t think his power excels in controlling others more than it does in killing them. The crown’s whole purpose is to control living beings and, if it has that limit, then I’m willing to bet Koschei does, too.”

“I wouldn’t place a bet on a thought, Rhys.” It had been clear Feyre was worried. Her fingers had kept tapping on the table. Az wondered if it came as a result of being a mother, that worrying. That caring for the well-being of others. “If we brought them here, could you guarantee they’ll break?”

“I don’t think Azriel could get them to sing for us.” Rhys inhaled. His eyes roamed the map of the continent, focusing on the coast of the human territory. “If Bellius spoke to rile Nesta and her friends up, then only their own arrogant boasting will get them to talk. They have to feel like they are giving the information out of their own free will. That they’d be gaining something by it, even if it’s admiration or applause.”

Azriel had tilted his head, analyzing what Rhys was implying. “There is no one in this room that can convince those men to speak.” Feyre and Rhys were recognizable to all the Fae. Cassian and Az were Illyrian, which would raise suspicions. There was no reason for an Illyrian be on the mortal lands of the continent. And Amren and Nesta had as much chance of charming those Fae as Bryaxis had of calming people.

Mor would have been their best choice, but she was on the Fae side of the continent, too far away to reach in time for tonight.

Rhys had met Az’s gaze. There was a shine on them that often told Azriel that Rhys had an idea. Something in his gut had told him he wouldn’t like it. “No. No one in this room can do it. But I know who.”

“Stop your games and just spill it, boy. I don’t have time for this.” Amren had said, narrowing her eyes at Rhys.

Cassian had rolled his eyes, “What could possibly be more vital than this right now?”

“I have a date with Varian to taste different types of meat and I’m starving. If I stay here any longer, I might eat yours.”

Cassian had barked a laugh. “I wanna see you try, tiny ancient one.”

Azriel had kept his focus on Rhys. Waiting. Fear making his heart beat faster. He knew what was coming.

Finally, Rhys had asked, “How has Elain’s training gone?”

And now, Azriel was following the carriage to where she would be waiting for the Fae. Where she would pretend to be a victim of a robbery. A female riding a wagon on her own in the lonely road when a thief took advantage of the solitude to steal the resources she was on her way to sell in the market and make a coin. Az was to stay in the shadows. He was only allowed to be here in the case the Fae males wanted to take another type of advantage out of her.

Azriel fisted his hands. He had half a mind to destroy the males now and claim a freak accident had killed them rather than find out what they’d intend with her.

He stopped a second, telling his breathing to calm, waiting for his rage to subside. He couldn’t make decisions when his mind was violent, he needed a clear head.

He kept moving only because the carriage did, but he still wanted to spill blood.

A noise caught his attention. There, just beyond the curve of the road, was Elain kneeling on the floor crying as she held a few pieces of the wagon’s wood. Azriel fought the impulse to winnow to her, to console her, to hold her. Tell her everything was alright. That he was with her and no one would hurt her.

She’s pretending. Her cries aren’t real. She knows I’m here.

But it was difficult. His wings twitched, his shadows scattered towards her, but still hid from view. They were ready to strike at his command. Anyone who got near her.

Stand down, he said to them.

The carriage had gotten close enough to to see Elain on the road, see the mess of the wagon, and notice the horse that led it missing.

“Ho!” The rider called to his own horses while pulling on the reins. They stopped next to the wagon’s destruction. Pieces of wood lay around it and Elain. Rhys had taken care of that.

“Cover your face,” he had told Elain before sending a wave of his power to the empty wagon. Elain had covered her face, but noticed it hadn’t been necessary. Azriel had secured a dome of his own power around her. Wood struck a blue wall and jumped off harmlessly. Rhys had narrowed his eyes at him, “Disperse the wood, Azriel. Otherwise it will be weird indeed that the wood landed all around except for that clear demarcation of a dome.”

Azriel looked down. Right, there was a clear difference between where his power had encircled Elain and where it hadn’t.

She had sucked on her lower lip to hide her smile. Azriel felt hot in the face, but he didn’t care that he had made a foolish mistake to protect her. She met his gaze and he saw a promise there that he tucked away before his scent gave away the direction his mind had gone off to.

Elain turned to Rhys, her pale pink dress looking white in the dusk light. Rhys had estimated the Fae would take this road and would be here in half an hour. It was an isolated enough road, one Fae loved to use to stay hidden inside the mortal lands. It was surrounded by forest on both sides, the smell of pine was strong here, but it was a scent Azriel liked. The wagon was brought here by both males in their winnowing.

“Was it really necessary to destroy the wagon like that? Wouldn’t it have sufficed to simply break a wheel?” Elain had asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Rhys studied the mess in the road, his brow furrowed in thought. “A thief would have no need to go to all that trouble.”

“Perhaps not,” he had answered throwing her a wink, “but it just contributes to your woeful story. Make sure to cry extra loud.”

Elain had shaken with laughter and Azriel had taken a step closer to her impulsively. He wanted to lay a hand on her waist, to feel her laugh reverberate through him.

Now, he watched her shake in sobs instead. One of the males from inside the carriage stepped down and walked closer to her. He was dressed in cheap armor, dirty from use, and his brown hair was tied at his nape. The male surveyed the wagon, the destruction and lack of a horse, and finally glanced at Elain. His eyes roamed her body, but Azriel couldn’t tell if the glassy look in his eyes were from the control the male was under or for a different drive.

Azriel felt that hunger for violence stir inside him and fought with everything he could to keep still.

Stand down, Azriel repeated to the shadows when he noticed how they were risking exposure by getting closer to Elain. Hesitantly, they skittered back into the dark.

“What happened here, dear?” The male asked, though his voice didn’t drip kindness.

Elain put on a good show, sobbing and wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her simple dress. She had to look the part of a Fae in hiding, so the dress was akin to the human clothes this area donned, her hair was arranged over her ears, and the glow of her High Fae beauty had been glamoured to an acceptable degree.

“Good, Sir.” She stood and curtsied. “I was riding on the way to the market—” a sob “—when a thief came by.” Tears flowed down Elain’s cheeks so effortlessly Azriel wondered if she was hurt. Did she twist her ankle again while he was away? Perhaps with one of the wood planks he himself had dispersed.

Not real tears, one of his shadows assured him.

He didn’t relax.

“When were you attacked?”

“This afternoon.” She sniffed. “I’ve been here hours, seeing as how hidden this road is. I have no way of getting home.” Elain covered her face in her hands. “I live too far away, and I have an injury in my right leg that makes walking for long periods unbearable.” She wiped away her tears. “I stayed here hoping someone might come around and help me get to a place where I could sleep the night and hopefully rent a horse during the week.”

“Did the thief not take your coin?” The male sounded skeptical.

She nodded, “They did, of course, but I could work for a few days and make the money. I just need a ride.” Elain fidgeted with her dress, successfully looking devastated and scared.

The male gazed back at the carriage and the others, considering his options. Azriel held his breath as the male regarded Elain once more. His face revealed he felt superior, a male who knew he had control of the situation. Exactly what they needed him to think. He also looked like he wanted to impress this lovely female he happened to rescue.

He inclined his head to the side, a smile spreading over his face. “Alright, sweet face. We can take you.”

After a few teary grateful expressions from Elain, the male opened the door of the carriage for her with all the satisfaction of a savior. She climbed the first step, pretending a limp, and as she did so, she glanced over her shoulder.

To the male, she was looking back to the destroyed wagon and up to the trees in sadness. But her gaze met Azriel’s. She had know exactly where he was. He hoped she could read in his eyes what he wanted to tell her.

You’re not alone. I’m right behind you. You’re doing great, lovely fawn. You’re doing great.

Her head dipped in the smallest of nods and then she was inside and the male was closing the door behind him.

Azriel clenched his jaw.

Now the real work begun.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #elain #azriel #spy elain #spy elriel #elain archeron #elriel endgame #elriel oneshot #elriel fanfic #elriel fic #my writing

[vidalinav]

Nesta even losing some of her powers was unnecessary.

Prefacing this by saying, I can understand why Nesta trains, but I can’t understand why she doesn’t also discover more of her powers. The whole thing set up by Nesta’s character is that in order to control a lot of what she feels, because she feels too much as Feyre suggests, is that she pretty much shows no emotion, or she makes a great show of being aloof and taciturn and arrogant (Darcy 2.0), putting up walls, and the one emotion that slips through the cracks is always anger. Anger that incontrollable flame that we know has been associated with her and with Cassian, who goads that anger out of her, almost yearns for it. She is raised, we learn, to be this way. She has to be this way or she will drown under the weight of it all, as it’s suggested. Drowning is like that main motif running through the entirety of acosf. Nesta drowned in that cauldron, she was pulled under, there’s a constant theme about the sea. We learn in acofas that Nesta one, doesn’t feel anything except sometimes anger, and two, that she can’t control her powers. She couldn’t control them in the war, which she uses as a way to form some feeling of irrational internal guilt, and she doesn’t use them in acosf for the majority of the book, really. Which would be understandable in some ways because reasonably by the end we learn that she doesn’t really want to feel anything, and when she does promise that she’ll feel it all that is the direct instance where she is seen to use her powers to save Feyre, because she makes that deal with the cauldron and in some ways the Mother. We definitely get instances of her using them unknowingly in ways that suggest the powers are not evil (i.e. the sword, the house, etc) though we have the contrasting perspectives of the IC believing that they are malevolent because of... Nesta?

However, I feel this book completely lacked the idea that Nesta took that cauldron’s power, something I consider to be set up as empowering (because well she gained power and control) which is the other half of this whole situation of the power overwhelming her. This is something that many fans have brought up in the case of people not liking Nesta losing the power, that “oh it was overwhelming her, so I don’t think her getting rid of the power is bad thing,” and I’ve always kind of taken that stance as like ehh, because I’m like yes... but no... It’s not that the power overwhelms her, it’s that her entire being overwhelms her. That she feels too much and she burns with it--that’s what Feyre says in acomaf. She keeps walls up to keep herself from being overwhelmed. And what happens throughout acosf only to end where Nesta loses power? The entirety of the book is that Nesta needs to change, and being accepted is the heavy conclusion. I won’t re-make that argument it’s in another post. 

However, I am saying that that is why I don’t like Nesta losing her power, even if it was a self-less act on her part. That was never a doubt. Nesta has done constant things to prove that she would be there for Feyre/people at the drastic end, even if she’s not welcoming in the uneventful middle. The wall scene, the “we’ll be fine” scene in acotar where she’s like we don’t need you be free, To the queens in acomaf, sticking up for Feyre/Cassian with Tamlin in acowar, telling her story to the High Lords, using herself as a sacrifice in the end of acowar. We didn’t need another scene of Nesta doing a dramatic thing for Feyre. I’d argue we only needed a scene where they came together and mutually understood each other for once in their lives. But that’s not what we got, we got a scene that following Nesta having revelations that she’s “okay” and hopeful after being constantly berated and shoved in a house and walked up mountains as punishment, where her father is seen as okay (???), where we learn she has had a bad childhood, where she is in constant situations that are exactly the same as the situations that made her trauma in the first place, and where she doesn’t ever come to the conclusion that perhaps her thoughts are both accurate and incorrect, that she can be both the victim and the tormentor, which are two sides of the same coin. Nesta loses most of her anger... and then she loses most of her power... It remains to be seen how much she’s lost, but that’s a great big chunk of character. That’s quite a bit of everything we know of her character. 

But going back to the power itself and anger. Feyre in acotar says that her father wouldn’t have went and saved her because he didn’t have “the courage, the anger... but Nesta had gone with that mercenary” to find Feyre. Something that can be viewed as the first act of love to Feyre. Something that makes Feyre change her mind about who Nesta is. This is the first time that her anger is associated with something directly “good” because that’s how Nesta is, which is then show again and again.  

 And then in acomaf, Nesta who is put in a terrible situation where she has no control whatsoever, which is the start of something deeply traumatizing, in her anger steals from what is stealing from her. Similarly, I feel to learning how to fight so that she can have control. Nesta takes some manner of control in a situation where she has none. 

And then Nesta in her anger at almost losing Cassian obliterates the queen and her power is felt across Prythrian. 

And what I’m trying to really piece together here, is that Nesta’s power--Nesta’s anger--can be both something good and bad, something overwhelming and empowering... Something that Nesta logically may never be able to control completely, but can learn to accept, learn to minimize damage or know that she must constantly be aware, which is I feel the more natural way of growth. That growth is a constant battle. It is also something that remains to be seen whether it is good or evil, perhaps is neither of those things, something that remains in the middle to whatever situation occurs naturally. That is overwhelmingly good at the drastic end as Nesta is, and may be neutral or so-so or chaotic or unwelcoming in the (un)eventful middle. 

She didn’t have to lose anything. Not only is it something that S/JM has done so many times. Not only is it something she doesn’t do with her male characters. It is not necessary, when everything is set up perfectly fine to have developed those powers and in turn develop her character, because they’re equally related instead of having the end lead up to losing her power and in turn losing a major facet of herself, which is something that has a constant presence in this book. In no way is this book more about acceptance than it is about change. 

Acosf lacked the nuance that is Nesta’s character. It was one side of a coin. Which 1. is not fitting for a standalone in which romance occurs but character growth was suppose to happen in and sort of be relatively completed in (the bulk) and 2. it’s why I don’t understand why S/JM just didn’t leave Cassian’s pov out or integrate it better or leave some of the plot that was irrelevant. It’s also why I get deeply perturbed about this book series, because it can be so good and it’s just so disappointing. She set it all up. It doesn’t take a genius to connect dots. So why was this book so woefully underwhelming? Oh I know, it’s because she drastically reduced a character to “I hate myself. I hate my power. I hate my anger. All of these must be gone”/”These characters think my anger is bad, they’ll also think my power is bad and I’ll agree” and then did virtually nothing to prove that all of this was irrational in both cases, except with a “losing my power” moment that wasn’t even necessary or set up well. 

#thank you I love complaining about this book #it's so horrendous #I can't #It's the epitome of hubris to think that SJM thinks this is a good book #as a seasoned author #I should really not be a perfectionist if this is what is allowed to be published #anti sjm #nesta archeron #nesta archeron meta #Wednesday rant days #anti acosf

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

my predictions for a court of silver flames (and the book 5)

since i’ve just forced myself to re-read acofas, i emerge now with head clear and heart full of utter dismay for feysand bullshit. this novella is pretty good at setting up a ton of hints for the next book, so at least there’s that. here are some of the plot points/character arcs which i think are worth to keep in mind before reading acosf, especially for those who finished reading acowar and acofas a while ago. 

MOR

Mor is going on a journey to the Continent as a Night Court ambassador, possibly with Azriel. I don’t know to which extent this escapade will be described, but it will definitely happen and it will be important for both of them - Mor especially. My personal opinion is that the toxic triangle in which she’s tangled up with Cass and Az will meet its sad end in this book, due to many reasons such as Cassian;s relationship with Nesta, Az’s growing interest in Elain and, hopefully, Mor’s own growth as a person or her new romance. I also think that Mor’s relationship with her father will be a major plotpoint and the Court of Nightmare will play a BIG role either in this book or in the next one. Also-

ERIS

Eris will take the throne from Beron in acosf. I will be shocked if he doesn’t. Possibly the reprecussions of this event  will be discussed in the next book. Also possibly, there may be some kind of coup that will result in killing more than one High Lord (yes, I am thinking about Helion)

ELAIN

I’m sorry, but I literally cannot see it any other way - Elain will deny the mating bond with Lucien. The hints for this are scattered all over acofas. She doesn’t want it and she is not, in any freaking way, interested in him nor she is even interested in being interested. I think she’ll also get some opportunities to show more of her character and, hopefully, Mass will finally let her utilize her powers in some sensible way, but this might be saved for the next book. 

TAMLIN

Lucien warned Feyre they will need Tamlin as an ally ‘before the dust settles’. I am half-tempted to make an assumption that Tam will die in acosf, but it’s not based on any evidence, so it’s just my personal theory. Regardless, I do believe the destruction of the Spring Court will fucking bite half of Feyre’s ass in the following books and Tamlin either redeems himself (whether or not he should redeem himself when he is already in such a pitiful state is another question) or truly become a villian of the series. The one thing acofas hammered in my head is that his story with Feyre is far from over. 

LUCIEN

My fucking heart bleeds for him. My prediction is that he will cut all the ties with the Night Court, if he did not already done it after Feyre was an absolute bitch to him in acofas. I am also like 80% sure that Helion will die and Lucien will inherit the Day Court, thus getting a permanent place to call home, just as he has always wanted (but absolutely not IN A WAY he has wanted). Besides that, I am only praying for Mass to grant him some fucking happiness. i have no doubt that his relationship with Vassa and Jurian will be discussed in more details, if not, I am rioting. 

AZRIEL

There are a couple of issues Azriel will have to deal with in this and the following book:

a) his doomed relationship with Mor,

b) his blooming romance/friendship with Elain, 

c) his Illyrian identity.

I do think acosf will be a begining of some longer journey for him. Based on the snippets, I think we can also expect a lot of interactions between him and Nesta and I am so fucking excited for it that I can barely contain it.

Also, I subscribe to the theory that Az’s mom lives in the misterious Rosehall and that we will meet her soon. 

FEYRE AND RHYSAND

They are basically the same person at this point, let’s be honest.

Rhys will contine to be horny 24/7 and Feyre will continue to focus on small, non-important stuff instead of the actual business of ruling and managing the court, and they will both remain to be terribly self-involved - 

okay, enough of my bitterness.

I HOPE Feyre won’t be pregnant in the next book, but let’s be honest, it will probably happen rather soon, so, there’s that. From the snippet of acosf in acofas, it seems that they will have some disagreement about Nesta and I am all for it. Besides that, I think their personal arcs and journeys are over and I believe that there won’t be too much of them in the next books. Same with Amren - I don’t think she will play a big role, besides being an awesome secondary character. 

NESTA’S and CASSIAN’s arcs seem to be rather obvious, unless Sarah will somehow break our necks with the narrative 180 degrees spin. I think the biggest mistery is whether or not they are truly mates but, regardless of that, they will end acosf as a couple. Personally, I don’t belive Cassian will die in this book. Sarah is pretty allergic to killing her protagonists in a permanent way. Given that he has already suffered two major injuries throughout the series, I am inclined to belive that it’s time for Cassian to give in to fury over injured Nesta. In my book, there are two possible routes for them to get together:

1) a lot of angsty, heart-breaking hate sex slowly transforming into comraderie, friendship and, finally, romance, 

2) no sex, only angsty misunderstandings and sexual frustration strong enough to push them into romantic relationship fairly quickly which then results in more misunderstandings, wrong ideas about each other’s feelings and a whole fucking mess of feelings. 

Nesta and Emerie will, in 1000% meet and become friends as Nesta truly fucking needs her own found-faimily type of friends. She will also discover and develop her powers, learn to manage her emotions and to have healthy relationships with people whom she loves. 

Cassian will have a somehow similar arc as Feyre in acomaf, during which he will realize his own true potential and self-worth. 

Some plotlines I expect to happen:

ILLYRIAN UPRISING

I think it’s rather unavoidable at the point and it will come as a surprise to no one. I also think Devlon may turn out to be an unexpected ally. 

RIFT IN THE INNER CIRCLE

This one is something which I hope for, cause it would make so much sense, but I am quite apprehensive to make any definite statements about it. If Cassian and Nesta are to get together in acosf, I cannot see it happening in a way which will not disrupt the delicate balance of the inner circle given a) Nesta’s relationship with Rhys and b) Cassian’s with Mor. In general, I do believe Cassian;s arc will be about gaining confidence in himself and his own feelings and insticts, which will involve some separation from his friends. Also, the downfall of Az-Mor-Cass simply cannot be executed bloodlessly.

ANCIENT POWERS RISING

Feyre toyed with the very fabric of this universe. It has to have some kind of consequences. At this point, we know Koshei will make an appearance (in regards to Vassa), Bryaxis is still on the loose (and Feyre has still not fullfilled her bargain) AND we got an interesting scene of Mor sensing something evil luring in the forests around her estate in acofas. 

and last but not least-

WE WILL LEARN WHAT WAS IN THE FUCKING BOX

please feel free to add your own predictions and expectations! I’m sure i missed a lot of stuff 

#let me know what you think pls #a court of silver flames #acosf #nessian #acotar #acotar meta #nesta archeron #cassian #feysand #acofas #a court of frost and starlight

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Hiii!! I love your fics and I can’t believe Going for Gold only has one chapter left?!

Anyway I heard u were accepting some prompts so ~

Prompt: canon-verse Nessian fic where Nesta discusses the challenges of adapting to immortality and fae-hood

I’m so glad you love Going for Gold! It has 2 chapters left! And I love this suggestion! I took it in a bit of a different route but hopefully you like it!

Also for drabbles I’m literally writing them in one go on Tumblr so they will be *Tumblr Exclusives* feel free to send in any suggestion- I like canon, modern, and AU! If you can think it up I’ll probably try my hand at it!

Nesta was trying to smile for Cassian’s sake. She really was. She wasn’t being difficult or purposefully sour, but… she just didn’t have it in her today. Not today of all days.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian’s brow furrowed in concern, his hand reaching out to slip around her waist as he pulled himself up to where she was sitting in bed, tucking himself against her instead of pulling her into him as he so often did.

Nesta clamped down on the bond, snapping her walls up and trying to stave off the thick puffs of darkly coiled smoke that must have been assaulting his senses for her mate to react so quickly.

“It’s not the bond, Nes.” Cassian rested his chin on her head, somehow knowing that this was a full body hug kind of sadness. “I know when you’re upset. And right now you’re giving me that same tight little grimace you try to pass off as a smile when there are too many people around you or we’ve stayed at the river house too long.”

Nesta sighed, both loving and hating how well he knew her.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” Nesta just continued staring down at the sheets, but she opened her end of the bond up again. Let him feel the dark chasm of her mind in that moment. Cassian pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I wasn’t going to bring it up. Feyre was trying to-”

“Plan a surprise party I know. I keep hoping that by tomorrow I’ll be able to stomach that.”

“I told her to cancel it.” Nesta snapped her eyes up. “Someday you’re going to stop being so shocked that I know you, my love. An event where large numbers of people jump out of nowhere holding balloons and yelling sounds like your personal Under The Mountain.”

Nesta gave him a tight, sad little smile. Broken, but real this time. “Thank you.” Her hands reached down into her lap to clasp one of his. Hold onto it. Try to suck out some of his strength and warmth for herself. And as always, Cassian gave it over gladly.

Nesta needed one of his arms to clutch, so Cassian wrapped his wing around her shoulders to bring them even closer together. The rough leathery texture had come to feel like silk against her skin in the months they had been mated. Comforting and sure and everything warm in life.

“What did you do last year?” His question was tentative. The way any conversation about her year of destruction was tentative.

“It was one of the only days I stayed sober. I sat in the bathtub all day in cold water just so I could think about something else. Remembering the cauldron was better than focusing on what it took from me.”

In months past Cassian might have gotten offended by that statement, by the implication that it was so awful to be one of them, but he understood her better now. Understood that Nesta had a right to grieve her mortal life, even as she loved her fae one. The way someone could still live and laugh and love after the death of a loved one. It stuck with you for a while. A phantom loss swirling about every happy occasion.

“Birthdays just don’t mean anything to me anymore. I don’t understand why you all celebrate them when you don’t age.”

Cassian nodded, “Fae age. Maybe not our bodies past their prime, but our minds and hearts and souls. You are so different in just a few years. Think about how you will be in a decade, let alone a century. Your body won’t change, but everything else will.”

Nesta paused for a contemplative moment. She forgot how old he was sometimes. How much he had lived through.

“I don’t really know how to phrase it. Most of the time I’m fine. I’m happy or even on days I’m not happy I know that I will be happy, that I can be happy. But something about my birthday just brings it all up. How different it is. How much I still don’t know. Even… how casually people thank the cauldron or celebrate holidays. I try… but sometimes it all feels like trying to shove my feet into outgrown boots.”

“That’s ok.” Cassian’s wing pulsed in a comforting squeeze. “You have so much time. Don’t try to rush it. Birthdays are a marker, a day, an event, but years… years are not all created equal, my love. I lived hundreds of very small years focused on nothing but fighting and being the best. Years that slipped by in the blink of an eye. But then there were years that felt like a decade or even a century all on their own.”

“Last year.” Nesta swallowed.

“Yeah.” Nesta and Cassian didn’t lie to each other. Not even to spare the other’s feelings. “And this year. This one year with you is worth the five hundred that came before it. It’s not about the time, it’s what you do with it. And even an immortal life is too short to waste time choking down these feelings. Feel them. Pick out the ones that help and get rid of the rest. Send them down the bond,” Cassian smirked against her hair. “And I’ll fight them off.”

Nesta laughed as his arm flexed around her, wings spreading out on instinct. She had no doubt her overprotective mate probably would try to challenge her own melancholia to a blood duel.

In so many ways he already had.

“I love you so much.” Nesta turned her body into his and Cassian curled around her like he could pull her into himself. Legs tangling, wings folding, arms wrapping.

“I love you.” He whispered into her hair. “I loved you as a human. I love you as a Fae. I loved you last year and I love you this year and I will love you in five hundred years.”

“Just five hundred?”

“Until the mountains crumble to dust and Velaris falls into the sea. And then I’ll love you in the next life. Even though you’ll probably try to knee me in the balls again.”

“Yeah,” Nesta laughed softly against his chest. “I probably will.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar