Cassian : You know I was NOT the one to hide your damn dagger
Azriel : I FOUND IT IN YOUR ROOM AND IT REEKED OF SEX
Cassian : Well I- AT LEAST I HAVE SEX
Mor : Oooooo, That one must've hurt
Azriel : WELL I- I- WELL AT LEAST I DON'T GET SHOUTED AT BY AMREN EVERY FIVE MINUTES
Amren : Say my name with that mouth of yours ONE more time and you're dead.
Azriel : Yes ma'am.
Meanwhile the Valkyries
Gwyn : You ate the LAST PIECE OF CAKE!
Nesta with the cake : OH YES, AND IT WAS SOO SOOOOOO YUMMY. YOU KNOW, IT HAD SO MUCH CHOCOLATE IN IT THAT IT COULD CAUSE DIABETES IN A FUCKING SECOND. AND GUESS WHAT, I LOVED IT
Gwyn : You BITCH. FUCK YOU
Everyone : *quiets down and looks at Gwyn cause when she curses, you know shit's about to go down.
Nesta : *oooo her ego got hurt but she ain't backing down* I'M NOBODY'S BITCH YOU BITCH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
A literal cat fight.
Cassian : Damn
Mor : Damn
Azriel : Shouldn't we stop them or something-
Cassian : YOU NEVER stop a cat fight. And it's Nesta and Gwyn, they're literally sisters-
Nesta : *takes out ataraxia out of nowhere*
Gwyn : *takes out truth teller out of nowhere
Cassian : I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T HAVE YOUR DAGGER.
Azriel : Oh please, you know I have millions of daggers And YOU USED ONE OF THEM DURING SEX WITH NESTA.
Suddenly feysand enter the room :
Feyre : *goes to Nesta and pulls her away* WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!!!!
Rhysand : *goes to Gwyn and pulls her away* GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF. I'M SO FUCKING TIRED IT'S THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK. AND YOU- YOU AZRIEL AND CASSIAN, YES YOU! YOU ALL MOTHER FUCKERS HAVE MADE MY LIFE HELL-
Nyx walks in with a phone in his hand : *doesn't even care anymore cause it's so common* and everyone quiets down.
Nyx : Oh go on, don't stop on my account.
Everyone : *shrugs*, *ok* STARTS SHOUTING AGAIN
Nyx : *sighs*, *messages to Tamlin's daughter* "I'll pay you a million bucks to marry me and make me the high lord of the spring court. Just get me out of here"
Tamlin's daughter's text : Tempting but no, I like it when you get tortured.
I have this vision wherein cassian doesn't let anyone touch his hair like no one has ever touched his hair and he's very serious about it so one day the ic is hanging out and then cassian leans into nesta and nesta absent-mindedly starts playing with his hair and mor or rhys is like "is nesta playing with yor hair, you never let anyone touch your hair" and nesta gets all self conscious and stops but cassian just grabs her hand back and brings it to his hair and goes "nesta isn't just anyone" I need a drabble like this in canon-verse
This one really just flew out of me. I’m weak for soft Nessian!!!
It was one of those beautiful nights where they could almost forget what they had been through.
A night where war torn hearts stitched themselves back together and beat soft, hopeful rhythms in centuries or decades old chests.
A night where hands that had once been soaked in blood tangled fingers with the warm, fresh, surface of a lovers matching palm.
A night where wine bottles stacked up in the space many floors below, where the House took them when they were empty.
A night where old grudges were nothing but soon to be melted snowflakes in the February wind and even the lonely souls in the room felt warmed by the roaring fire.
It was a night where Nesta didn’t even notice the fire beyond the way its glowing light bounced off of the gleaming black in Cassian’s hair.
A night where everything was calm and soft at the edges rather than hard and focused and sharp. Relaxed, Nesta felt entirely relaxed.
Something she never would have thought possible in the presence of so many people.
Rhys and Feyre were taking full advantage of Nuala watching Nyx and were already wrapped up in each other on one end of Nesta’s new light grey sofa.
Amren had her legs thrown over Varian’s lap on the other side.
Mor was lounging on the chaise by the fire like a goddess of old.
Elain had gone to bed early, claiming she had to be awake early the next morning, so even Azriel was completely at ease. Not lingering in the doorway. He was spread out across a massive white armchair, the twin to the one Nesta and Cassian occupied, with his legs stretched out in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Yes, this was a good night.
Nesta shifted a little on the arm of the chair she had just perched herself on top of and Cassian rolled his eyes, hooking one arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap.
“Brute,” Nesta accused with none of her usual bite.
“Don’t worry, with Rhys and Feyre here we will never be the most sickening couple in the room.”
“Debatable,” Mor sing-songed.
Nesta laughed, such a soft, easy sound that she never thought she’d hear from her own lips. Turning herself a little in Cassian’s lap, Nesta dangled her legs over one arm of the chair and leaned her head against his broad chest.
This place. This person. His chest. His scent. His arms around her waist. It was home.
“Do you need anything?” Cassian was a little drunk, the way they were all a little drunk. Not boisterous, tear things apart, dance and shout, drunk. Something hazier.
Mulled wine and spiked cider drunk. Slow and sleepy and comfortable.
“I have everything I need.” She didn’t mean it to be so cheesy, it was just the truth.
“Hmmm,” Cassian hummed, nudging his head a little into hers with a soft smile. Nesta knew what that meant.
She raised her hands from around his neck and slipped careful fingers between strands of his silky hair, separating a little section of it off into three pieces.
Cassian let out a long, contented, breath.
Nesta felt the eyes on them before she saw them.
Azriel just chuckled and raised his glass. Rhysand looked like he did when Nesta explained the 26 universes theory to him. Shocked, in awe, brimming with question.
“What?” Nesta’s voice sharpened just a little.
“Nothing,” Rhys cleared his throat, trying to be polite.
“No one touches Cassian’s hair.” Mor said, head inclined. “Like seriously. He doesn’t let anyone near it. Not in the 5 centuries I’ve known him at least. Azriel tried to ruffle it once and Cassian pushed him back so hard he cracked a rib.”
“Oh,” Nesta swallowed, hands stilling halfway through the braid. Cassian brought his own hand up to cover hers.
“Don’t stop, please.” Nesta smiled a little.
“And she’s… braiding it.” Mor shook her head.
“Mor,” Rhys warned.
“Is this not weird to anyone else? 500 years of no touching the hair and now he’s about to have a crown braid.”
Nesta laughed, twisting the braided strand up and over so it made a headband through the rest of his hair. “Oh I’m so doing a crown braid next. We can match.”
“Whatever you want, love.”
“Shut up, Mor.” Cassian lulled his head back into Nesta’s touch. “The silence was so nice. And just for the record,” he pointed a finger. “It still stands that I don’t let anyone touch my hair so don’t go getting ideas.”