Random thought that I’m probably not articulating well, and maybe I’m deeping it too much, but I do find it a little alarming how much fanart I see that captures these characters’ beauty in the form of what is, essentially, Instagram/social media standard of beauty. Don’t get me wrong, everyone has the creative freedom to create what they want to create, and I can’t exactly say shit because I can barely draw a stick figure, but I’ve seen so many depictions of ACOTAR characters where they look like they’re pumped full of lip filler and other shit, where it looks like they have an Instagram filter on them, where there’s almost an uncanny look to them, and I find it interesting and, quite frankly, a little worrying, that that’s what so many people equate these characters’ stunning beauty to, as if they could not be beautiful any other way. We know that they’re supposed to have an ethereal, otherworldly beauty, because they’re ethereal, otherworldly beings, but it’s almost as if people have forgotten that there is beauty in things like freckles, and dimples, and different body types, and natural features and characteristics that make us who we are. It’s interesting that so many people translate that beauty into the carbon copy social media influencer standard of beauty, as if natural beauty isn’t quite enough. This isn’t everyone, of course — I’ve seen so much beautiful fanart that captures the beauty of these characters without turning them into instagram models. But there’s also a scary amount that does exactly that — maybe from younger members of the fandom? I don’t know. And I guess that has me wondering…is that all many people see beauty as now? Have we stopped appreciating the natural things about people that make them who they are? 🤔
190 notes
·
View notes
I find it so interesting how Cassian can be outraged on Nesta’s behalf at the suggestion that it would be better if she was exposed to the dangers of the Trove instead of Elain.
Going so far as to even yell at Azriel when he voiced concern for Elain instead of Nesta.
Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”
“But Nesta should?” Cassian growled. Everyone stared at him. He swallowed, offering an apologetic glance to Az, who shrugged it off.
But that same righteous anger seems to be absent every time the story brings up Nesta’s childhood with Feyre. It isn’t fair for Nesta to face the dangers of the Trove in Elain’s place...But it would be completely reasonable for her to hunt so close to the wall as a young girl instead of Feyre.
Cassian’s rage is directed to Nesta for not endangering herself over her sister as a child. But somehow he crosses the line at Nesta endangering herself with the Trove over her other sister.
It’s even more shocking when he shows awareness of her trauma and her reason for hesitating:
“[...]But you have to understand that Nesta was deeply affected by what happened during the war—Elain was taken by the Cauldron after she scried. You can’t blame her for hesitating.”
But somehow, he turns a blind eye to Nesta’s trauma as a child and only sympathizes with Feyre and how she was severely impoverish and starving. Never once taking the moment to reflect that all the sisters were in the same condition.
138 notes
·
View notes
Can you do cock warming and belly bulge kink for Nessian pls 🥺
Pairing: Nessian
Rating: E
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: There's no summary because what follows below the cut is pure, plotless filth. Enjoy!
"That's it, sweetheart. Just sit on it, just like that…”
Cassian’s voice was a welcome rumble as Nesta’s head fell back against his shoulder. She breathed deeply, savoring the delicious stretch of his cock splitting her open as she sank down on it. He had one large hand braced against her stomach beneath her dress, spanning the space between her hipbones. The other was clenched into a fist on the wide, cluttered surface of his desk, so tight his knuckles were turning white.
His mouth met her shoulder, dropping a long kiss on it through her gown. They were both still clothed; she hadn’t expected to come across him in his rarely used office in the House of Wind, hadn’t expected to find the messy sable bun atop his head or the clear, sharp focus on his face so damn attractive. She’d made a good show of sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk and writing a letter to Emerie for a while, but he had twirled and twirled and twirled his own pen between his fingers, driving her to distraction.
And then he had started writing something, the strokes as firm as decisive as any slash of his sword, and Nesta’s entire body had heated at the sight.
It hadn’t taken much for his nostrils to flare and the bond to pull tight as he sensed her arousal after that, to draw her behind the desk with a look—an incredulous but satisfied one that said, This is what turns you on, Nes? Really?
To be fair, everything about him turned her on. She had been wet enough when he dragged her onto his lap that they had only needed to push up her skirts and unbutton his pants before she was spread wide around his cock, her legs held open by his.
“Good,” he murmured in her ear. “So good for me when you’re needy like this, aren’t you?”
“Cassian.” His voice was little more than a desperate breath on her lips, and she rocked her hips against him. Cassian groaned, a low, sultry sound that pulsed through her. His hand tightened on her stomach, pulling her harder against him until she could barely move.
“Stop that. I’m busy right now, and I need this done tonight,” he said, his low lover’s voice mixing with the firm, unyielding tone of the general.
Nesta blanched, outrage rising up to meet the steady burn of lust in her veins. Some of the haze of her arousal lifted, and she opened her mouth to speak.
“I gave you what you need for now,” he cut in roughly, a warning in his tone. “You sit right here and enjoy it while I finish up, and then I’ll—” His teeth grazed her earlobe, and Nesta shivered as he chuckled. “Finish up.”
And then Cassian pressed on her stomach again and—
“Oh, gods.” She could feel him. His cock, his palm, so close together, like they were working together to pin her just where he wanted her. Like he possessed all of her, inside and out, and he knew it. “Oh my— Cassian.”
“Like that, Nes?” he asked when she moaned. He prised one of her hands off the arm of his chair and guided it down, sandwiching it between her stomach and his hand. Gods, fuck, she could feel where he pressed into the deepest part of her, her stomach bulging with the thick length of his cock inside of her. “I love it when I can feel myself inside of you, don’t you?”
Cassian dropped a kiss on her cheek when she nodded. It was the same sort of kiss he gave her before he flew off to meet with Rhys, with the camp lords, sweet and gentle and… well, and almost business-like. It was the sort of kiss he gave her when he had already donned his armor and placed the passionate mate she loved playing with behind his thickest shields.
“Just sit there and feel it, sweetheart.” His fingers twined with hers, locking them over her stomach. “Be still, and I’ll fuck you when I’m done.”
———
Hours must have passed. Hours, and yet the clock on the mantle over the small hearth indicated that only three-quarters of just one had passed with Nesta stroking their fingers over the bump between her hipbones. Cassian sometimes adjusted them, shifting forward in the seat to read something more closely, splaying his legs wider as Nesta’s wetness dripped down them both, or simply pushing his hips against her to stretch her wider and test her limits as he bumped that bulge against her palm.
Every movement drew a sound from her—a moan, a whine, a whimper. They grew progressively weaker the more and more desperate she became. She would have been embarrassed if his cock hadn’t twitched inside her each time. If his fingers hadn’t tightened on hers.
Nesta could only watch, blinking slowly, as he cleared away everything on his desktop, methodical and neat as any soldier ought to be. But when he lifted her off his cock, the sudden emptiness and the loss of his warmth was so jarring that she gasped, her mind clearing.
“You are so damn good when you want to be,” he murmured. She half-expected him simply to push her forward and bend her over his desk, but he lifted her entirely, spinning her and seating her on the smooth surface instead. “When you want my cock.”
His lips met hers for a messy, rough kiss that was all teeth and tongues. His hands pushed her skirts back up to her waist as he stood, towering over her, and then he was fisting his cock, drawing forty-five minutes of her wetness along the length of it before pushing back into her.
“Yes, hard, like that,” she heard herself saying as he set a bruising pace, her legs wrapping around his waist. Every thrust pressed against the deepest part of her, the one they ever only reached in certain positions if he spent enough time stretching her. It ached sweetly with every pass, so much she could feel it in her throat.
“Give me your hand,” he growled, his wings flaring. He didn’t wait for her to unclench one from either side of the desk; he snatched up the one he wanted and splayed it over her stomach. “Feel me fucking you.”
She could. Every pass pressed her belly and the head of his cock into her hand, and Nesta’s head dropped back as her eyes screwed shut, focusing on that sensation. “Oh, fuck, you’re right there—”
“I could go mad thinking about the way you look like this, Nes.” His teeth bared, and the hand that wasn’t pushing hers into her stomach dropped between her legs, rubbing at her clit as he fucked her harder. “Here, feel…”
He pushed their twined hands down, the pressure on her stomach multiplying the dragging ache in her cunt. Nesta’s breath caught in her throat, and then Cassian drew his finger in a lazy circle around her clit.
The world shattered and fell away as she came, her shaking thighs locking around Cassian’s waist. She heard his voice, loud and insistent, as he followed her over the edge, his hand holding onto hers.
121 notes
·
View notes