#nessian fan fiction

[wildlyglittering]

Illyrian Comfort Pie

I shared a post with some Christmas OTP prompts and asked if anyone wanted any for Nessian and @dustjacketmusings chose:

"Every country has different traditions for Christmas when it comes to food: trying something new when they have always eaten the same dishes for the holidays feels wrong at first. But when it’s cooked with love by their favourite person, it can sure taste like new traditions."

I don't know if this entirely fills the prompt and it's a lot rougher than I'd like but please enjoy!

Illyrian Comfort Pie

“Fuck you, Morrigan.” Nesta wiped her bare arm across her brow, spices and herbs transferring straight from her forehead onto her forearm, the little green and orange specks dusting her skin. “And fuck you Rhys come to that.”

The alarm on her phone screamed and Nesta whirled around in her small kitchen space. She’d put the device down earlier, stabbing at the timer with a flour covered fingertip whilst trying to shove her pie into the oven.

Where the hell had she put the damn thing?

On the counter stood an open cookbook entitled ‘Recipes from the Heartland of Illyria,’ a bottle of wine which doubled as a rolling pin and cooking motivation, and Nesta’s pathetic pastry attempts one, two, and three – each one slightly less gloopy than the last - until she finally made semi-successful attempt number four.

No phone.  

Nesta let out a noise halfway between a screech and a yell, her hands reaching either side of her head, ignoring whatever food stuff would end up in her hair.

“Shit!” At least she managed to remember what the phone alarm was for, swivelling behind her and yanking down the oven door, reaching for the mitts as she ducked a plume of smoke.

This one didn’t smell too bad. Nesta grabbed the pie and shoved it onto the trivet on the counter. The crust was a little singed on one side but, if she was careful, she’d be able to scrape that off.

Her movements jostled a reem of paper towels and as they fell to their side, they revealed the object of Nesta’s irritation. One phone.

“Thank you,” she muttered, her eyes drifting upwards to the ceiling as she turned off the alarm. Her thanks was to whatever cookery god was willing to listen and half to the smoke alarm not going off.

Three notifications waited for her. She took a breath in and hit open on the first one.

Hahaha. You agreed to what?! Even *I* run from making that dish. Pretty sure my *grandmother* ran from making that dish and she used to be a baker. Anyway, are you coming Thursday?

Emerie. Not providing the answers Nesta was so desperately hoping for, instead reminding Nesta she had yet to confirm drinks with her and Gwyn. Nesta typed out a quick response.

Yes to Thursday. Any chance your grandmother would attempt making this again if I paid her?

Sent. Nesta moved onto notification number two - Feyre.

Did you want me to see if the Illyrian restaurant down Sidra Street will do a delivery? If you put it in the oven for a bit and burn the edges no one will know.

Nesta raised an eyebrow. The audacity of her sister to assume Nesta would need assistance and that she’d burn the pie. She had burnt the pie but still, the audacity.

She chose not to respond to that one and instead moved to the final notification. Cassian. Nesta took a deep breath and hit open.

Are you having as much fun as I am? Thinking I could do this as a side hustle.

There was a photo attached. Cassian had taken a selfie of himself standing in front of his obnoxiously large quartz kitchen counter. His dark hair was tied in a messy bun and he winked into the camera. He wore an apron Nesta had never seen before, deep red with candy cane striped ties and in Christmas style writing was embroidered ‘Kiss the Chef’ underneath a sprig of mistletoe.

Nesta squinted at the image, zooming past Cassian himself to the dishes behind him slightly out of frame. Was that a bowl of perfectly glazed parsnips? A tray of immaculate shortbreads?

She let out another noise and flung the phone back onto the counter so she could press her palms into her eyes. At this point she was covered in flour, meat juice, and soggy pastry pieces. Sweat gathered under her breasts and trickled down her back from the constant heat of the oven.

Nesta had been baking for over six hours now and though there was a small part of her which wanted to cry, she refused. Although she’d cursed Morrigan and Rhys the biggest ‘fuck you’ should have been delivered to Nesta herself.

She’d agreed to this when she should have declined, and now her pride would cause her to take a fall.

There had been five of them for drinks at Rita’s. Should have been two – only Nesta and Cassian for their quiet post theatre drinks, but Morrigan had been there with other friends who she swiftly abandoned as soon as she saw Cassian arrive.

Within minutes Morrigan had called Feyre and then before Nesta knew it, she was being squished into a booth, Cassian to her left and Feyre to her right, while she sipped her chilled white wine and counted the minutes until it was socially acceptable to say her goodbyes.

“Oh my god,” Morrigan had been saying. “That was the best dish I think I’d ever eaten. Do you remember it Rhys? The caramelised onions and gravy? What was it called again Cass?”

Cassian groaned and lolled his head back. “Illyrian Comfort Pie. My favourite.” He took a sip of his beer. “The Illyrian army did a version with off-cuts, almost ruined a perfect dish.”

“What’s this pie?” Feyre asked.

“Only the best pie in the world,” Cassian replied, his eyes misting over. “Imagine thick tender beef soaked in its own juices for hours, drowned in rich gravy and embedded with caramelised onions all under a cover of hot crust pastry.”

“You need a room, Cass?” Rhys laughed.

Cassian raised his middle finger to Rhys but joined him in the laughter.

“Cassian’s ex made the best version,” Morrigan said, her eyes sliding to Nesta. “Honestly no one would be able to top it. Bri wasn’t even Illyrian but it was spot on.” She took a long sip from her own glass of red wine. “I guess it doesn’t need to be your own tradition if you care enough to put in the effort.”

There was a heavy silence which would have lingered if not for the clearing of Feyre’s throat. “Who’s got who for Secret Santa?”

“Oh, I’m sure if Nesta put in the effort it would be just as good. Right?” Nesta looked up and met Rhys’ eyes as he ignored Feyre’s question. He smirked as he finished speaking, cocking his own beer bottle to his mouth.

Three more pairs of eyes looked her way. Nesta felt the slight, almost imperceptible tensing from Cassian but it was Feyre’s eyes which widened the most. There was a kick against Nesta’s shin under the table.

“I’m sure it would,” Nesta said, “if I had the time.”

“Cassian was telling us at the bar you’re now on vacation. All your gifts already wrapped and under the tree. Sounds like you have time.”

“Rhys...” Feyre began but Morrigan jumped in.

“I think that would be a lovely Christmas present for Cass. You can start your own tradition now you’re official. Illyrian food is so hearty.”

There was a part of Nesta which was too stubborn for her own good. Rhys’ smirk and Morrigan’s too-wide grin opposite her, the meeting of the cousin’s eyes like this was some in-joke they had just started. Feyre kept kicking her under the table, the jostling movement irritating Nesta further.

The flash of irritation was the problem. That, and the second glass of wine she’d drunk on a half empty stomach fuelling it. Her temperature rose and her skin prickled and instead of counting to twenty like she’d been practicing in her apartment Nesta opened her mouth.

“Fine,” she said, “this whole thing sounds great. One Illyrian Comfort Pie it is. When do you want it? Day after next?” Nesta quickly grabbed her glass to take a swig of her drink before she agreed to anything else.

Cassian’s eyebrows shot up but she didn’t want to meet his eyes, he was probably thinking how Nesta wasn’t implementing those ‘take a moment’ techniques. But his hand reached down to clasp her free one under the table, giving it a squeeze.

“You know what?” he said, looking at the group. “I want in on this. New traditions sound great. You’re making mine so how about yours. What’s the Archeron family dish of choice?” He asked this looking at Nesta but she still had the wine glass clamped to her lips. No longer drinking, just holding it there to feel the cold.

“Ooh,” Feyre said, clapping her hands and jiggling a little on her seat. “Roasted venison, but that’s quite tricky. We haven’t eaten that since Elain went vegetarian. We also had roast potatoes and honey glazed parsnips. Green beans. There was a cheesy mash and – oh, oh, the shortbread biscuits with a chocolate drizzle and the Prythian Pavlova. That’s Nesta’s favourite.”

Cassian laughed. “You want to take a breath there, Feyre?”

In response, Feyre’s stomach grumbled. “No, but I think I need some dinner.”

Aside from Nesta, the table laughed. Her wine glass was now empty and back on the table, her fingers toying with the stem, her mind too preoccupied with the thought of this pie and how the hell she’d even find the recipe.

As the chatter resumed, now about where Rhys and Feyre were going for dinner, Cassian’s weight shifted against her, his arm casually slinging around her shoulders.

“You ok?”

She glanced up at him, plastering a smile on her face. “Absolutely fine.”

“Hmm. Is that genuine fine or Nesta fine?”

Cassian was staring at her intently, concern swimming in his dark eyes. She knew if she immediately conceded he’d let it go, their friendship group knew Nesta wasn’t known for her domestic pursuits and Cassian could whip up a mean dish filled with flavour.

If she really wanted to, Nesta could cheat her way out of this. Getting Elain to bake the pie for her would have once been a consideration until Elain and Lucien’s diet change. No meat, no dairy, no sugar.

No flavour, Lucien had added, ignoring Elain’s frown.

Still, there was something else shining in Cassian’s eyes. Excitement. He was pleased she’d agreed, he relished competition in all its forms and he seemed eager to do this with her.

Nesta’s smile melted in a more genuine one and she squeezed his hand back. “Honestly, it’s good. Dare I say I may even find it fun?”

That was two days ago. Two long days.

“Ha!” She now shouted to her cramped kitchen. “Two drink Nesta has no concept of what the fuck fun is.”

Everything was a mess, even the edges of the cookbook were singed and Nesta cringed at the sight. Gwyn had managed to track down the edition on her behalf and Nesta hated to see a book suffer.

She looked at the clock. Two hours to go – plenty of time to shower, dress up and cart the pie to Cassian’s where they would have a grand unveiling in front of their friends. Her phone pinged and Nesta glanced down to see a reply from Emerie.

She says no chance.

“That’s not a problem,” Nesta said, wiping her hands on her thighs and staining her jeans further. “Because I now have a half decent pie.” She picked up the sharp knife. “Just scrape some of the black bits off and we are good to go.”

The knife slid through the crust and Nesta lifted some of the burnt pastry off using the blade. Odd. What was a deep and crispy brown on the surface seemed pale and soft underneath. Almost as though the pastry hadn’t fully cooked all the way through.

“It’s just this bit,” Nesta told herself. “I’m sure the rest is just fine.” But as she gently lifted the pie-top she could see the same pale colour underneath. Worse was the distinct lack of steam rising from the filling. “No, no, no, no. You’ve been in the oven for almost two hours.”

Grabbing a fork, she stuck it into the dish and scooped out a lump of meat. Juice, which looked far too oily for her liking, dripped off the prongs. Nesta placed the meat on the counter and cut through it with a knife.

She was met with resistance. The beef was still cold. A noise left her throat unbidden, something akin to a half sob. Nesta had researched the best meat cuts for the pie, she’d made sure to go to the best butcher and spent no less than forty-five minutes asking the rather exasperated man behind the counter questions from her list.

Her eyes flew up to the clock. Less than two hours to go. The time she’d budgeted to get ready and go to Cassian’s now shrivelled up. Just like my hopes for this pie.

She peered into the dish, the caramelized onions bobbing in the gravy like some apple bobbing contest gone wrong. “You’re mocking me,” she said and then groaned. They wouldn’t be the only ones.  

Nesta sank down onto her floor, ignoring the drip of gravy she sat on and put her head on her knees. She could imagine it all now; Feyre, Rhys, and Morrigan all dressed up, swanning around Cassian’s apartment waiting to be served their multiple courses.

Feyre’s eyes would go wide at Nesta’s attempt but she’d try and make Nesta feel better and yet somehow by trying, she’d only make Nesta feel worse. Cassian would likely tuck the monstrosity – if she even bothered bringing it – behind some extravaganza he’d made and perform an elaborate distraction.

Rhys and Morrigan would probably just snigger behind their drinks and tell her that ‘at least she tried.’ Patronising fuckers.

A tear dripped from the corner of her eye down her chin.

Nesta had tried. Had really tried. She’d memorised the recipe from back to front before she even started, she’d gone out into Velaris Market with a clipboard, she’d called Elain early for pastry tips ignoring Lucien joining the call to ask Nesta if she could describe what real food tasted like because the memory of butter was fading fast.

She wiped her eyes with her fingers, knowing she must look even more of a state than before. But wait – there was an option open to her. Hope flared yet.

Nesta grabbed her phone from the counter. What had Feyre said? The Illyrian restaurant down Sidra Street might be able to deliver. If anyone served an Illyrian Comfort Pie, it would be them. She scrolled through her favourites for the number. Her and Cassian had eaten there so often, she practically had them on speed dial.

The phone answered after the second ring.

“Hello? Hi. I know it’s late notice but I’m in a bit of a bind and hoping you could help.”

She explained the situation, confirming that yes, her pie request was for that Cassian, the one with the tattoos and arms.

“I mean, I don’t know,” Nesta said, eyeing up the clock and tapping her foot against the cupboard. “I’ll ask him. Some kind of protein shake, I think. Yeah, it’s really glossy hair. I’ll ask him that too. Anyway – the pie?”

They were regretful. Truly. Nesta could almost feel their sorrow down the phone. They didn’t have any pies pre-baked and they wouldn’t have one ready for the time she needed it by. They offered Nesta and Cassian a discount on their next visit and Nesta thanked them before hanging up.

“Well. Shit.”

Her eyes itched and she wanted to cry again but this wasn’t the Archeron way. She shook her shoulders and cleared her throat. There would be no pie but Nesta would be damned if she turned up without bringing anything and looking like a chaotic mess.

The kitchen horror show was a problem for future her, but in less than an hour, she had showered, dressed herself in her most confidence boosting little black dress and practiced her affirmations in front of the hallway mirror.

“You are a calm, confident, capable woman. You did not achieve the pie. Others have probably not achieved the pie. You have achieved other things. Like your best friends, two degrees, and this awesome looking pavlova.”

Nesta held the covered bowl to the mirror as though to show her reflection the cream and meringue evidence. Her lipstick red smile shook a little but the taxi driver was calling to say he was downstairs so there was no time for doubt to creep in.

On a usual night it took too long to get to Cassian’s. The drive was less than fifteen minutes from one end of the small city where Nesta lived to Cassian’s address and every second stretched out painfully slow.

Tonight, it was as though all roads had cleared especially for her just to say ‘look, you can get to your ritual humiliation even earlier.’

“It’s not like I’ve ever seen Rhys or Morrigan cook,” she mumbled to herself as she exited the cab and entered Cassian’s building. The porter nodded and buzzed her in and then Nesta was counting the too-quick numbers on the elevator.

Cassian’s apartment was one of two at the top of the building and though the sound-proofing was excellent, which they could attest to personally, Nesta was surprised at the distinct lack of any festivities sounding from behind his door when she approached.

He answered after one knock, hair freshly washed and dried. His white dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top buttons were undone, swathes of black swirling tattoos on display.

Cassian let out a low whistle and grinned like a wolf when he saw her. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite lady, in my favourite dress of hers, with my favourite dish.”

He leant in to kiss her and Nesta winced at the mention of food. Cassian’s lips met hers in a chaste kiss but he must have noticed her response as he was frowning when he pulled away.

“Come in,” he said with a light tone. “Let me take that.” He held his hands out for the bowl she was carrying but she clutched it tighter to her body.

“That’s ok, let me find a space to put it.”

“Sure.”

Nesta stepped further into the apartment. Everything was chrome, quartz, or wood but Cassian couldn’t help himself when it came to Christmas. What was once an interior designers dream for a ‘bachelor living’ magazine spread was now a grotto fit for the dreams of any eight-year-old girl.

A smile lifted the corner of her lips. She’d never begrudge him this. Foster care and ten endless churn of care homes hadn’t left Cassian with any sense of home and the orphanage tried their best but lacked the funds.

Cassian had told her that his best Christmas eventually came in the Illyrian military and all that involved was eating dry turkey from paper plates and reading stupid jokes from cheap crackers. But he was with people that felt like family and that’s what mattered the most.

Now, garlands hung from the oversized windows, a tree larger than Cassian himself stood by the fireplace decked with shining ornaments. A range of presents piled up under the tree to the point where they spilled across his floor.

Stockings on the mantel, rugs everywhere, gingerbread houses which increased in number each time Nesta was over. Candles on every surface.

“Wine?” Cassian asked as Nesta slid the bowl onto his counter. She nodded while taking a breath in. Ham and apricot, honey, a distinct scent of rich chocolate. All the food laid out but under coverings to keep them fresh.

Her stomach stank. She’d failed him so miserably.

Her face must have painted a picture because Cassian moved beside her. “Hey, what’s up.” His fingers tucked under her chin, tilting her face to his. Those deep eyes of his, again swimming in concern.

She hoped the best Christmas present she could get him was honesty.

“I fucked it.”

He blinked. “Sorry?”

“The pie, I completely fucked it up.”

His confused blank expression immediately melted and he laughed, his head thrown back and the column of his throat on display. His face in laughter was a delight, he was young and happy and in love with life. “Well, that makes a lot more sense.”

“There is no pie. I botched it.”

He looked down at her, his expression softening, his smile gentle. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t. That pie is an art only the devil knows how to get right. Did you know Emerie’s grandmother won’t even make one and she won Illyrian baker of the year for fifteen years?”

Nesta coughed and reached for the wine poured out for her. “No, I didn’t know that.”

Cassian moved round the counter to Nesta’s dish. “So, what did you bring?”

“The only thing that didn’t involve my oven. The meringue isn’t even home-made. I’m such a sellout.”

He peeked under the covering and exhaled. “Oh, thank the Mother.” He stepped back, his hand over his heart. “I fucked it.”

Now, Nesta blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“The meringue for the Prythian Pavlova. It was the one thing I wanted to get perfect but do you know how hard meringue is to make? I couldn’t even make it to the store.”

He shook his head, grabbing his own glass of wine. “I even rang Elain to ask her for tips but Lucien answered and begged me to tell him in great detail how the filo wrapped parcels were smelling. He said, and I quote ‘go low and take your time’. I’m not sure how comfortable I am having them over for New Year.”

Nesta laughed, shaking her own head, glancing around the apartment. It had taken her long enough but something finally dawned on her. “Am I early? When are the others arriving?”

Cassian paused, swirling his glass. “Yeah, about that... I thought ‘fuck ‘em.’”

Nesta’s eyes bulged. “I think I’m missing something.”

Cassian put his glass down and leant back against the far counter.

“You know Bri’s pie wasn’t all that great. Mor was being...” he trailed off, scratching his eyebrow the way he did when he was uncomfortable. “Mor was being difficult and it was unfair. Rhys too. But I liked the idea of you and I doing our own holiday tradition so I guess I thought I’d see where we ended up.”

He gestured to his apartment and the dishes before them. “So, we ended up here. Just you and I, a bottle of wine, lots of delicious food and a very comfy rug we’re fucking on after dinner.”

“Is that right?” Nesta said, putting her glass down. She walked over to him. “Have you seen what you’ve made? We are not fucking after dinner.” She placed her hand on his chest, his heart beating a rhythm against her palm as she ignored his disappointed face. “We’re fucking before dinner.”

That wolf grin was back on his face and he leant forward to kiss her but Nesta stopped him. “I feel bad, everything here is an Archeron dish. You didn’t get your pie.”

“Oh, I’ll get to eat my pie.”

“Cassian!”

He laughed again, his broad arms wrapping around her body. “The fact that you tried means everything. I promise. This is a great start to our forever tradition.”

Nesta looked up at him; the hours of failed baking, the constant smoke alarms, the mess she had to clear up tomorrow. Worth it. All of it. “Forever you say?”

“Forever.”

#nessian #nesta #fanfiction #fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #i wrote something #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nessian fan fiction #nessianfic #nesta archeron x cassian #nessian fan fic #illyrian comfort pie #writing request

[pinkrasberryfish]

New chapter of the Pointe of Love is up! Chapter 15 — ‘Have You Ever Been Loved?’ — https://archiveofourown.org/works/43076520/chapters/121852741

#all I do is work and write #elriel #elriel forever #elain archeron #pro elriel #elriel supremacy #pro elain #elain x azriel #elain #elriel trash #elriel fanfiction #nessian fanfic #nessian fan fiction #nessian au #nessian fan fic #acotar au nessian #nessian #pro nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic

[talkfantasytome]

The Cabin

Short, fluffy drabbles about time Nesta and Cassian spend together at their cabin on their annual autumn trip up there.

a/n: I can't spend a lot of time on my computer at the moment with my concussion (honestly, I'm pushing it just making this post). So, with all my free time since I can't spend time on screens, I'm writing up some drabbles in my journal to get me in the autumn mood and back into writing.

I'll be posting the pieces soon as I can spend enough time on my computer to type them up! But wanted to announce that these are coming. 😄

Pieces are listed chronologically within the timeline of the AU.

Autumn Leaves

Autumn Movie

Autumn Breakfast

TBD...

Nessian Masterlist

Key: * Smut/NSFW | ^ Fluff | “ Angst | ° Character Death

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fluff #fan fiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #modern au #autumn fluff #autumn #autumn vibes #fluff #nessian au #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta

[jmoonjones]

I thought Day 4: Romance of @nestaarcheronweek was the perfect opportunity to thank Nesta's true love: the fan fiction writers who do her justice

Thank you to all the talented writers who follow through on the awesome (but sadly wasted) potential of Nesta. Not just the yearning and tension of Nessian, but the Queen herself 

Thanks to all you lovely writers we get to see her explore her powers, the superior Fanon Cassian (+ Fanon Nessian), and the fun of Neris/Nezriel/other wacky AUs etc 

Yes SJM created her, but you all gave her life ❤️

(Here's Cassian taking Nesta to the old cottage, a rare tender moment from acosf)

#nestaweek2022 #Nesta Archeron #thank you #nesta #nesta stan #nessian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nesta supremacy #acotar art #pro nesta #you writers are doing the gods work and I love you

[starsreminisce]

tbh even E/riels are disappointed with acosf but they don't say it to others although they talk about it among themselves lol I used to be one so I should know. acosf was Nesta's books everyone expected to see Elain more bc she was close to her and they also heard about the training so they were 100% sure they were going to see E/riel training scenes (the very one they accuse Gwynriel for being boring and they don't want Nessian 2.0 lmao) so when they didn't get that they started commenting on Gwynriel post of how they wanted Elain instead of Gwyn in those scenes (specially the shadows dancing around Gwyn and the private dagger lesson) and that's when the toxicity started and I knew this place was not for me anymore. even tho I used to be a bypass in the fandom and not actually fixated on the books I saw enough threats and bullying, it was bad. I came back on acotar fandom this summer after a very long time and even now the reek of jealousy from that side of the fandom is recognizable. the pure ignorance and delusion is quite amusing, they know E/riel won't happen but they have to make it look like they don't so their years of being obsessed with a fictional ship and bulling other fans, the author and publisher won't got to waist yk. bc when I read acosf for the first time I knew Gwynriel is endgame and even before that I wasn't a huge E/riel fan but I wanted to tolerate them for the possibility of them happening and not Elucien (after the end of acofas we weren't sure who would be endgame and I was quite sad bc I was more incline toward Elain and Lucien)

anyway if they were so confidence in their ship they wouldn't do none of that and let others enjoy their time being in the fandom.

Oop that’s some piping hot tea right there.

Honestly, why couldn't they just be as chill as Azris shippers?

Azris shippers understand that the likelihood of their ship is slim, but they can manifest and hope for the best. Through Love, all is possible!

Yes, it's quite possible! I can passionately support Gwynriel and Azris in tandem. E/riels can readily accept that Elucien is the endgame couple while finding delight in the hints and potentials of E/riel until the next book's release when perspectives may change. Although there may still be Neris shippers out there, I haven't observed any significant disrespect directed toward Nessian. It's possible that I might not be searching thoroughly, but it's heartening that it's not as prevalent as the mainstream rivalry between Elucien and Gwynriel vs. E/riel.

I perceived ACOSAF as a retcon of Elucien, as Elain's abrupt shift from suggesting Lucien move to Velaris to ignoring him lacked a clear explanation of their deteriorating relationship. More on this later.

I get why E/riel shippers held onto hope after ACOSAF, even though I viewed their connection as more platonic. Azriel's deep love for Mor was abundantly clear in the series, and the Hybern scene hinted at the endgame couples, particularly Moriel, which was reinforced by SJM's deleted Pinterest.

In my view, Gwyn embodies a blend of Mor and Elain, sharing Mor's trauma, the ability to fit in with "one of the boys," a girl-next-door quality, and an interest in combat, while also displaying Elain's quiet and reserved nature.

On a more serious note, it's entirely possible to appreciate a ship without resorting to belittling anyone, whether it's a character without proper canon context or an actual person. Doubling down and resorting to insults becomes even more embarrassing. Perhaps this is due to a reluctance to acknowledge the scarcity of E/riel content to draw from.

Ironically, my anti-E/riel posts stem from my restraint in responding to most of their takes but they aren't inclined to listen, and I lack a suitable outlet to release my frustrations.

Additionally, I take issue with the way many books romanticize red flags as desirable relationship traits. It's crucial to recognize that Azriel's hesitancy to be his true self around Elain is an unhealthy dynamic, and it's not Elain's responsibility to change that. When someone acknowledges their actions as a mistake, it's wise to believe them and move on. This situation is reminiscent of the problematic "Twin Flame" concept, which often excuses negative behavior under the guise of a deeper connection.

But, thats why I don't like E/riel in a nutshell.

Gwyn and Lucien are fictional characters written to have a lot of trauma in their backstories. While they are not real, I can easily consider what you say about them as a reflection of what you truly believe to real people who have gone through something similar.

#antie/riel #antielriel #azris shippers have my heart

[merymoonbeam]

On SJM website she says none of the ships are determined until she writes the books and she likes to see where these characters take her.

Do you think this is truth, or, of fuel on the shipwar fire?

Do you think SJM will give us some more insight into Elain in CC3? Or will she switch things up in that book. We didn’t see Elain at the townhouse but everyone except Mor was there..

hello anon. this is gonna be a little long...

I think that part in her website is to just make people see "I will write whatever I want" point. Because sarah is not an author that will cater to fans. she just writes whatever she wants. but at the same time she goes with her gut and what her characters tell her but these are not last minute changes. let's give examples:

Rowan and Aelin...sarah was writing the book in a fiction website and in that version dorian and aelin were endgame but she was writing her own fanfic on the side for aelin and rowan so when she got the publishing deal she made aelin and rowan endgame bc as you can see they were what the characters were telling her. but at the same time you can see that it is not a last minute change. she knew from the time she started publishing(and rewriting) the series that rowan would be endgame and made them work and rowan came in the third book and rest is... we all know.

another couple is Cassian and Nesta...nesta was supposed to be with lucien but when sarah saw the nessian potential she went with them. but as you can see this is happened from the second book and on. she didn't change them last minute. she saw the potential, started building them up from acomaf and then finally we got their book with acosf. so that is 4 books(acomaf, acowar, acofas, acosf)

what I'm trying to say is that she doesn't do last minute changes. they usually happen in the planning stages of the book or so early on that she has the time to build them up. I hope it made sense.

about thatwebsite thing fueling the shipwar...this of course fuels the ship war bc everybody wants to see their ship as endgame and people have this idea in their head that sarah is this last minute change author and could do anything with the couples when that is not the case as I explained. so it gives hope to people to see their ship as endgame and keep the people talking about the books.

about cc...sarah'd said there were going to be things that would build up over the crossover that will affect acotar books(at least I remember like that) and the series could be read own their own. So I do think that we will see elain and get more info in cc about her bc there are so many connection. I actually made posts about it if you wanna read it. in this post I talked about how elain might have seen bryce in a vision. and in this one I talked about the connection between seers and mystics from cc. also we have a huge connection with gwydion/starsword-TT and bryce-Elain. there are so many other posts how is elain is connected tbh but I can't link them all.

So I see Elain making an appearance.

and no I don't see her switching up things at all. like for the last couple of years people see writing as this "what will shock the reader" type of thing. but it is not that at all. you have to build things up slowly and make the people understand things. With this crossover it affects two series even though they can be read separately. Sarah has to connect things in a way that will make sense to the world and the reader and they can be read separately. this is hard work. so her changing the couple of the next acotar book is out of the question.

Like imagine changing the tog couples from let's say elide and lorcan to elide and manon. you would have to write a totally different book(s). you have to plot. you have to connect the plot points to make them come all together at the end. so sarah changing the next couple in acotar world would mean she has to find new ways to connect things in a way that would make sense to both series. and at the same time try to make the series stand own their own without reading the other series. This is not possible rn. and as I said you have to build up stuff in writing. sarah has been building up this crossover for 4 books rn (cc1-cc2-acofas-acosf...if you take all the acotar book it is more than 4 books). Changing the couple would mean she has to throw all of those build up to trash. that's about it.

and for mor...idk why she wasn't present but I hope sarah has a good way to work her plot bc so far I'm not happy how she is handling her plotline.

that's about it

#anon ask

[theladyofbloodshed]

Nessian having healthy relationship without being mates? Now we must manage our expectations lmao

Although I wonder if them not being mates would make things actually more healthy for them or not. If they're not glues together, would Cassian actually notice her? Give a fuck? I have so much trouble trying to imagine a relationship, even a friendship between them because of how much sjm has distorted their relationship.

Honestly wished she wasn't so obsessed with the mate thing like can't people care for each other without being mates? Like how Azriel is with so many? Idk Cassian is a mess, I don't know what's happening in that thick skull of his.

It's fan fiction for a reason!!!

That's what I always wonder about mating bonds. Would the other person even care about the other if a bond wasn't forcing them together like magnets? Considering how terrible their relationship is with a bond, I dread to think how he might treat her. Alternatively, Cassian might leave her alone and Mor might not be a bitch to her! (Then Nezriel can get it on)

#anon asks

[andrigyn]

Top 3 Favorite Fan Fiction series/chapters?

No grave can hold my body down by flowerflamestars (link)

A court of rage and fire by ekileh (link)

Where the light won't find you by moodymelanist (link) aka a rare nessian fic that i love bc the concept is so good and she writes so well!

Engulfed in your flames by a-court-of-valkyries (link)

#oops that's four oh well #Andy's asks

[ecileh]

So what made you start writing fan fiction?

Also, what made you write A Court of Rage & Fire?

(Btw I freaking love it!)

oh it was 100% hubris HAHA.

i read a court of silver flames and had so much love for the world and the characters, but there were parts that infuriated me. for example—the pregnancy plot, the way nesta was treated, the chekhov’s guns that never went off (some of which i’m planning to set off in a few chapters…i hope y’all don’t hate me too much when i start shedding blood!), the way there was more sexual tension in 5 pages of neris dancing than a whole 800 page book of spicy raw nessian fucking. there were a lot of things in the book that made me imagine a different story between the lines—so many puzzle pieces and loose ends that could fit together, but were left scattered and buried in throwaway details. i was like, “i think i can do this better!” it started as a writing exercise to give me something to play with when i have writer’s block on my original WIP and it kind of snowballed into a novel length project that will probably be at least 150k words by the time i get through what i have plotted out.

this was actually my first long fic, and my first fic in like 20 years. i wrote shrek and dear america fanfic as a kid. i thought i was writing original stories with the flavor of those series, but let’s be real—it was OC fanfic written by hand in notebooks i made out of duct tape and paper. i think back then and now, i have the same motivation to write fanfic: i think a lot about stories that i love, and the more i think about something, the more i see all the things i’d do differently and and potential for…idk, more.

thank you for the questions and support 💕

#nesta deserves better #acotar #acotar fanfic #a court of rage and fire #ecilehwrites

[kale-theteaqueen]

Hi! It’s me again.

Hope you are having a wonderful day!

Time for more questions!! Tell me about yourself.

You mentioned before you like to read classics, philosophy, and historical fiction. What titles would you recommend?

What inspired you into writing? Creating stories for Nessian?

Also, what music are you into?

Bonus Nessian question (because why not?) If they were in a modern universe, what do you think their careers might be? Their lives?

Talk to you later! 😉

Hello hello!

About me?? Ok ok I have a background in international affairs, specifically international law and nuclear security/energy policy -- that means I read a lot of history and philosophy about a lot of things!! I have a passion for medieval/ancient history though so I will always be reading something about that. BUT in general, some good titles I'd recommend are:

Anything by T.S Eliot, his prose is so, so beautiful.

Orwell too!

I will always say to read something by Victor Hugo, just because everyone should experience it.

The Book of Madness and Curses by Regina O'Melveny

Vampires of El Norte by Isabel Cañas is a lovely historical fiction/magic realism event release that I really enjoyed.

And if you've never read The Song of Achilles I definitely recommend you do it.

I've always been a writer, but I had enough gripe with ACOSF that I figured I'd flex my muscles and see if people enjoyed my work!

My favorite music is all over the place. BIG fan of classical music and theater, but also love folk and indie.

As for Nessian, I definitely see Nesta as a lawyer or writer, whereas I've always liked Cassian as having something to do with fitness or something really down to earth/personal like teaching or medical (though I do love lawyer Cassian vs. lawyer nesta) I like to think they live a quiet life, where Nesta can be herself and they have a dynamic soft and personal that's just for them when they're alone. Also, they have a cat, I think nesta deserves a cat.

[wildlyglittering]

Silver In Her Eyes - Part 4

Happy Saturday!

Silver In Her Eyes part 4 is up on Ao3 here and also below the cut!

Please show it some love ❤❤❤

Lucien appeared well.

His long, russet hair flowed to his waist and he smiled more, laughed more. Rhys had interrupted raucous noise when he entered the drawing room, Lucien and his new friends throwing grapes into each other’s mouths.

Rhys' visit was unexpected but also apparently unwelcome. Jurian and Vassa excused themselves to the garden while Lucien stood and watched them leave. When he turned to face his guest his eyes, both the good and the golden, pierced straight through as though he could see Rhys’ very soul.

Rhys turned his agitation into resentment.

Resentment that Lucien was well while Amren made herself ill, resentment that Lucien greeted him as cooly as Varian now did. Resentment that Lucien found delight in the world when Feyre bloomed and grew like a rose before the sharp snap of winter claimed her.

There was the looming issue of allies. Varian’s growing coolness might influence Tarquin and Kallias was fretting like some old crone. Rumours persisted that Keir was whispering promises in Tamlin’s ear and Eris seemed extremely displeased at the lack of negotiated terms between himself and Night.

Even Helion had spoken to Rhys. About how worried he was over Rhys, how Rhys wasn't himself. Rhys had gritted his teeth. Now Helion thought him weak and it just wouldn’t do.

Rhys knew if he secured Lucien, Helion would remain an ally and Lucien could be used to convince Eris to drop his request regarding Nesta and potentially get Tamlin to choose Night. The trick was to secure Lucien in the right way.

Rhys joined Lucien by the window as Jurian and Vassa now lounged on the grass continuing their game. Vassa laughed when one grape missed and hit her in the eye.

“Is this what you were doing before I arrived?” Rhys asked. “How...puerile.”

Lucien scoffed as he moved away to lean against a bookcase. “We were having fun. It’s what friends do with each other. You’d know if you had any left.”

Rhys snarled, more beast than High Lord. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I have friends.”

The golden eye whirred as an eyebrow raised. Lucien crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. Detached, disinterested, bored.

“If you think you’re intimidating, you’re not.” Lucien looked back to Rhys. “You forget I lived with Tamlin for centuries and stood in front of Amarantha myself.” He gestured to the very gold eye Rhys was glaring into. “For my troubles.”

Rhys took a breath. This was not securing Lucien the right way. Rhys wouldn't benefit in losing his temper and giving Lucien a reason to slam the door in his face – not until Rhys had dangled his carrot.

“Apologies. I am... tense. Keir is making a power grab. He seems to think now is his chance to strike. He’s wrong of course but he has some invested parties and I’m now forced to try and find the same.”

“I’ve heard.” Lucien paused, his face falling into a frown. “What I don’t understand is why now? When Feyre is having your son, doesn’t that weaken his position?”

Rhys closed his eyes. He’d been able to contain the truth to the Inner Circle and Madja. Keir was an unfortunate slip up, one that wouldn’t be repeated once Azriel found the fae who shared that piece of information.

“Who knows what Keir is thinking,” Rhys said, opening his eyes, “but you can probably guess why I’m here.”

“Influence Tamlin? Beron?”

“No, not him.”

Lucien tilted his head and Rhys decided honesty would be the approach.

“Eris has promised to ally to me in exchange for certain conditions. One of those is that he marries an Archeron. For his sins, he’s chosen Nesta.”

A wry smile emerged on Lucien’s face.

“I have to dissuade Eris. Cassian and Nesta are together. I’m hoping you can appeal to Eris’ better nature as his brother, his love for you means you’d have his ear. I’d so hate for mates to be torn apart. Wouldn’t you?”

Half honesty then. Lucien didn’t need to know about the blades Nesta Made.

Lucien exhaled, facing towards the window, his pulse thundering in his neck before he relaxed as though something swept in and whisked his upset away.

“Ah yes,” he said, “the glory of Eris’ brotherly love. If Nesta hasn’t chosen him in return, why not tell him no? She doesn’t seem the type to be shy on how she feels.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. No. This reluctance of Lucien to be involved wouldn’t do.

Rhys conjured images, of Eris turning his head from the eldest Archeron to the one that tended the thorns. He constructed an image of Elain amongst her roses, being swept up by Eris and dragged to the Forest House where she walked the hallways, wailing like she did now.

Rhys fluttered them across to Lucien’s mind like butterflies where they should have landed so delicately that Lucien wouldn’t have realised they were not his own fears.

Instead, they caught on a torrent in the outer reaches of Lucien’s mind and tore into pieces, their fragile wings shredded and gone. Rhys kept his face neutral as his heart raced. Power had built within Lucien, the natural resistance of a High Lord against a High Lord but without trying, without even knowing.

The second approach then. Rhys’ back up plan. He snapped his fingers behind his back, a cry of surprise echoed out from the garden beyond.

“Elain’s here,” Rhys said, inspecting his fingernails. “I’ve winnowed her into the grounds. Take a look.”

Lucien’s face snapped to Rhys’ but he lifted himself from where he leant against the bookcase to move nearer to the window, Rhys joining him.

Elain now stood in the garden, glancing about her at the trees in confusion as a shocked Vassa and Jurian went to greet her. Rhys had promised her a visit to the Mortal Lands, a great garden for her to view and she seemed eager to accept the invitation.

Her fingers curled into the pale pink fabric of her dress, colour blooming to her cheeks which Rhys had yet to see in Night.

Lucien drank her in like he’d been deprived of water for years.

“It is a tragedy, isn’t it? When mates are torn apart,” Rhys said by Lucien’s shoulder. Some small guilt spun down Rhys’ web, knowing he dangled a mate in front of a male when Rhys himself was on the precipice of losing his own.

But it wasn’t the same. Elain and Lucien were nothing in comparison to he and Feyre.

“She looks well enough,” Lucien said, “but she’s sad, lonely. All the pieces of her life are falling away.”

“Night is good for her,” Rhys said, noting how Lucien placed a hand against the pane of the glass. “I think it would do her good to remain. I don’t know how she would fare though if she lost Nesta to Autumn. Another piece taken away I suppose.”

She’d fare fine, Rhys thought. Considering as the sisters could scarcely exist in the same space.

Lucien blinked, his palm dropping from the window and he turned to face Rhys, their bodies too close for his comfort. That damned golden eye whirred again.

“Rhysand, you speak of Eris wanting to marry Nesta to ally with you, of your concern over Cassian and their bond, of Elain’s wellbeing. Surely you can tell Eris no and be done with it. Or perhaps ask Nesta what she wants. That isn’t what you think of those under your protection is it? That they are merely pieces of furniture in your Court without will of their own.”

Rhys’ teeth pressed together. An impulse to dash out that damned eye rose within him, an impulse he quashed. Instead, he turned towards the window where Vassa was now offering Elain grapes but Elain was ignoring her, instead staring through the window back at Rhys, her brown eyes watchful.

“Of course not,” Rhys said, and with a click of his fingers, Elain was gone.

***

Rhys had been fouler than usual.

Where others saw confidence, Nesta saw arrogance. Where they saw charm, she saw manipulation. She never had love in her heart for him and though she tried to find a slither of affection for Feyre’s sake and Cassian’s, Nesta felt that she had always been looking at a different person.

She knew he’d travelled to the Mortal Lands to visit Lucien and had taken Elain with him. She’d not learnt that from Elain but from Feyre, the only sister still willing to speak with her. A simple note landing on her desk; Feyre was busy planning the nursery, the baby was kicking and keeping her awake, Elain had gone to the Mortal Lands.

Nesta guessed that Rhys’ interaction with Lucien had been far from pleasant based on the way Rhys stormed into the House of Wind.

She hid her smile behind her hand, a smile which didn’t linger long as Rhys checked over the blades she forged, chastising her for producing less.

“Three,” he said, a dark mist swirling around his feet. “Last week, the number was five.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “I’m tired,” she told him. “These three are what you get.”

He’d slammed the door on his way out while Nesta rolled her eyes at his retreating back.

It was no lie. She was exhausted. The time it took for her to forge a single blade had increased. Her back hurt and her head throbbed, her fingers slipped when she held the tools and she’d almost dropped a dagger on her foot.

The clash of hammer on metal was still a song but now each blade joined a screaming chorus in the room and Nesta couldn’t recall when there had last been silence.

She loved the blades but she knew, as she had always known, these were not ordinary. That she had poured a part of herself into their being.

The pile was growing but it wasn’t enough and deciding that Rhys would never be happy if she produced two or twenty, Nesta left the House, the hood of her cape pulled over her face and she stepped out into the fresh Velaris air.

Her desperate, clandestine walk along the cobbled fae-lit streets was not to meet a lover but the two friends she had made on her own. The café was small and squashed between two shabby buildings that would be overlooked by any of the Inner Circle if they tried to find her.

Hours were spent tucked in an alcove, the three of them; Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn, so close Nesta had to push down the pang of sadness at remembering when she, Feyre and Elain had to share the same bed.

This time there was nothing but joy. They consumed cups of hot tea and thick slabs of cake with chocolate so rich Nesta smelt it as it left the kitchen. All she wanted was this. A home, friends, someone who loved her.

Nesta returned to the House drunk on excitement. When she approached the first steps, she considered turning and fleeing into the darkness of the wilderness. Yes, the House gave her everything she required but a gilded cage was still a cage.

That excitement soon died when she reached the top. At first Nesta thought exhaustion had overtaken the adrenaline but she realised what she was hearing – or rather what she wasn’t.

Silence.

The blades that spent their time calling to her no longer did. Her stomach squirmed as she ran, her heart racing.

The door to the blacksmith was open, the blades gone. Only Rhys stood in the darkness, the moonlight highlighting his form.

“Did I give you permission to leave?”

“Am I a prisoner?”

He ignored her. “I thought you were tired, Nesta. Isn’t that why only three blades were made this week?”

Her laugh was brittle. “Have you not heard of rest? I asked if I was a prisoner but let me re-phrase; I am not a prisoner. Nor am I your slave. It seems the fae struggle to let old habits die out.”

The growl was low and strong that Nesta first thought it was thunder. But Rhys’ eyes were now blacker rather than violet, the mists swimming about his fingers.

Ice grew within her, her bones hardening, her blood freezing. Nesta’s teeth chattered together as her skin turned grey. He’d freeze her from inside out and then she’d shatter into pieces on the ground.

“You are worthless,” he said. “Letting your baby sister risk her life to keep you fed and clothed, allowing her to come close to starvation. Even the first blow against Hybern wasn’t yours. You benefit from the success of others while doing nothing of note. Your family doesn’t want to see you and Cassian is with you because he has to be. You are no one’s choice, Nesta, no one’s. I am gracious enough to give you a gift to make you more than useless and this is how you repay me.”

The heat she’d felt before burned in her, the flames licking the inside of her skin. A voice spoke into her ear. Do not let him see. Stay as you are, as hard as it may be.

Nesta shivered and she pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth lest her teeth bite through it.

“You leave this House without permission again and I won’t be so forgiving. Agree to it. Agree.”

Nesta’s words were forced. “Agree.”

He moved away, dropping his power as he did, walking past her without a backward glance as Nesta sagged on the floor like a puppet whose master had cut the strings.

She didn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. The effort of pushing down whatever rose within her had exhausted her and the fire which burned inside her had turned any tears to steam.

Nesta made it to her room. She was alone in the House again, no Cassian, no Azriel. She knew she wasn’t the only one who had demands held against them but unlike the others, she wasn’t acting through love.

Her arms and legs were heavy as she crawled into bed, barely removing her cape, not even removing her dress. An ache started in her chest and she pushed her hand against it. This wasn’t an ache for Cassian, it was for something else.

“Where are you?” she said aloud. She could never reach Ataraxia although she knew where the sword was housed. She thought of Betrayer who had been mounted in the blacksmiths, of the other swords surrounding it.

Nothing. But she was starting too large - she was weak and unpractised so why did she think calling to a broad sword would gain an answer.

Nesta thought of the small, unassuming dagger which had been sheathed in the corner, its snake like handle twisting into an open jaw, sharp fangs protruding. That had been a blade which called to her with clarity, an image of Nesta slicing through Rhys’ cheek to draw first blood.

Viper. She spoke its name. This time not aloud but inside her mind, imagining the colours of the metal, the shimmer of subtle green along the metal, the sting of its point.

Nesta envisioned pulling; her teeth grinding, sweat dripping down her neck and back. A reverse birthing. No expulsion of life but a calling of it back. She dug her heels into her bed and pressed down, grabbed at the sheets with her fists tearing into the cloth.

Then the pull snapped and her eyes opened. There it was, lying on her stomach, blade pointing towards her heart, as though an invisible midwife had lain it upon her.

Nesta sobbed, even if she couldn’t form tears, sitting up and grasping Viper in her hands. Somehow it was warm and cold to the touch, shivering with anticipation, overjoyed to be back with Nesta.

Rhys had the blades hidden someplace Nesta couldn't reach but for now she had this one, her one. Viper.

It whispered to her, soft and slow, a much-wanted breeze on a too hot day. Mother.

***

“I will not forge.”

Cassian’s presence at the House was a rarity these days and she was loathe to spend their time together in any state of argument. After their fight regarding children, they hadn’t spoken before he’d once again left for Illyria.

Now he was home and while their old argument was cast aside, they were on the precipice of a new one. But this was one she meant.

Cassian had paused by the bed redressing, shirt half on, expanses of tattooed skin still on display while Nesta stood in front of the fireplace. The flames flickered across the wood but she’d been long adept at making them soundless. All that existed was the heat.

She refused to continue forging, not until she learnt what the blades could do or who they were for - or who they would be used against. She also didn’t want Rhys to lay claim to any more, not like he’d done with her first three and the rest he’d stolen since.

Cassian’s shirt rustled as he continued dressing, movement finally returned to his body but she noted his fingers were stiff, fumbling as he worked the buttons.

“Have you said this to Rhys?”

“Not yet.”

Cassian stared at her and Nesta braced herself for the onslaught of his irritation, the protestations of how could Nesta do this to Rhys, his most beloved High Lord and friend.

Instead, he walked to her, placing large, warm hands on her shoulders as his eyes searched her face. A war waged within him; guilt, shame, worry. No, not worry, something stronger and with a more potent flavour – fear.

“Don’t tell him,” Cassian said, “let me be the one to speak to him.”

“Why? I’m not afraid of him.” Furious yes, but not fearful.

“Because he’ll say no to you. He might not say no to me.”

Nesta clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. “Do you hear yourself? I don’t care if he says no. He doesn’t get to make that choice. I want to stop, so I am stopping.”

Heat flooded her hands, fuelled by the pit of rage stoking in her belly, and rushed up her arms and over her chest. For a moment Nesta felt like her face was on fire, that her eyes were burning.

Cassian reared back, dropping his hands from her shoulders and stepped away, his palms singed.

“Nesta-” he begun

“I don’t know what that was,” she said, stepping backwards herself, groping at the wall behind her. “I don’t-”

“Tell no one,” Cassian said, the smoke already dissipating from his hands as he held them up, imploring her. “And don’t speak to Rhys.”

“Fine,” she said, pressing a shaking finger against her newly pounding temple. "Speak to him yourself if you think that will sweeten the blow but I will not sit in that room for him anymore.”

Cassian’s chest rose and fell, his eyes wide, his hand now rubbing his brow. A stab of sadness hit Nesta’s chest and she felt his confusion, his torn allegiance.

Part of him remained a little boy, a child forced to be a soldier rather than play at one. He wanted comfort, a mother to hold him, a mate to love him. Cassian had stood for centuries; fighting and commanding, garnering respect and loyalty, dragging numbers of creatures into a prison and here he was, subservient and scared.

The ice-cold shimmer of his fear was not directed at her but towards the male he called brother.

She walked towards him, pulling his hand from his face, before tilting his face down so she could press a kiss, sweet and chaste, upon his cheek.

Even as she did, Cassian leaning towards her, his chin on the crown of her head, pulling her tighter into his embrace she knew part of him was too far away.

#nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta and cassian #nessian fanfiction #cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #I wrote something #nessian fic #nessian fan fiction #nessian fan fic #anti rhysand #sjm critical #neris #nesta x eris #eris vanserra #silver in her eyes

[pinkrasberryfish]

👀 new chapter out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43076520/chapters/120523804

#pointeoflove #elriel #elriel forever #elain archeron #pro elriel #elriel supremacy #pro elain #elain x azriel #elriel trash #elriel fanfiction #Nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian au #nessian fan fic #nessian fan fiction #pro Nessian #Elriel au

[talkfantasytome]

We're Not Monsters - I'm Not a Creep

Nesta agrees to take Cassian for a run.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 2,238 | Nessian Masterlist

Previous Part | We're Not Monsters Masterlist | Read on AO3

a/n: It's baaaaaaack...and let's all thank @nessianweek and AU Day for giving me the push I needed!

Nesta followed Gwyn into the room, looking like she was ready to go on a rampage. It had Cassian's heart beating as loud as a drum.

"Everything okay, Nes?"

"Don't call me that!" she snapped at him, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that emphasized her generous breasts. Cassian had to consciously keep himself from flicking his gaze down to them. She closed her eyes as she breathed deeply, and Cassian want to protest at her taking away his view of those brilliant, stormy irises. "I'm going to go for a run. Gwyn, are you okay here with them?"

Gwyn nodded, but Cassian barely noticed as his eyes widened. "Oh, can't I go with you? Please?!"

"We agreed you all would stay in the house."

"I know, but I'm dying," he groaned. "I need to do something and there's really not enough room here for much physical activity."

She pursed her lips. "I can't have you running away. We'll get in so much trouble if we let a demon loose."

"I can guarantee that won't happen. You really think I'm going to run away from you?" He flashed her a small half-smile, and he couldn't help but notice the way the corner of her lips twitched upward just a bit.

"Fine," she sighed, sounding more exasperated than she looked. "I think I have some clothes from an old boyfriend you can borrow. I'll just have to do a little magic to make them bigger. Stay here."

With that, Nesta floated upstairs as Cassian tried to balance his glee with the sinking feeling in his stomach at her words. It's not that he had any right to be jealous, but he definitely didn't like hearing about Nesta having an old boyfriend. Especially one whose clothes she still had.

Why did she keep them? Were they just extremely comfortable? Were they relics from a love she regretted losing? A trophy of sorts? Did she wear the clothes often? Bask in the scent this boyfriend left behind?

Were they forgotten at the back of her drawers? Or proof that her heart belonged to someone else?

He jumped at a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he found that Nesta had returned. Apparently he'd been pacing.

"Here, I meant to burn them, but never got around to it. Lucky you." She handed him the clothes, and Cassian let out a loud sigh. Burning was good. Well, good enough. Those words gave him the ability to admire Nesta's new outfit. The tight leggings and well fitted pullover, showing off every one of her curves in a way that practically had him salivating.

Taking the clothes, Cassian changed in the bathroom as Nesta instructed, only bothering to put on the shorts. Running would warm him up quickly enough. Plus, he wasn't disappointed by the lingering, rolling gaze Nesta gave him when he came back into the living room.

It took her a moment to collect herself, but she didn't say anything, probably not wanting to admit to whatever she was thinking. It didn’t stop Cassian from throwing her a crooked, cocky smile.

Nesta rolled her eyes and let out a huff. "We'll see you both in a bit," she offered to Gwyn and Az before beginning out the door, Cassian following her. But she didn't go far. Nesta stopped in the middle of the front yard.

He was about to ask when he saw Nesta pull one arm across her chest with the other and realized she was doing some warm up stretches. He joined her, stretching out the muscles in his legs and arms, following her lead and keeping his eyes down. It was an effort when he saw her doing toe touches, knowing what view those leggings would be providing. But he held strong. He'd wait to stare at her ass so blatantly until she gave him permission.

"All right, stay close, don't run ahead of me, and don't go chasing any squirrels," Nesta ordered.

Cassian couldn't help but laugh as they started to jog at an easy pace. "I'm not an actual dog, Nes."

"Call me that again and I'll turn around and end this jog." They turned down a street to a road that was much longer than the one Nesta lived on. It was lined with trees and brightly colored mailboxes that all stood at the end of identical driveways. Most of the houses were the same two-story structure as Nesta's, but many of them had been repainted and landscaped to show their own personality. One or two seemed to have been renovated with additions or entirely rebuilt.

It was…quaint. At least, Cassian thought that was the word. Nothing in the Underworld could be described that way, so it was hard for him to know. Everything down there was designed to look ominous or threatening. He wasn't sure why. They could easily do everything they did from nicer looking neighborhoods like this one.

At the end of this street was a large park. Nesta led Cassian across the road and onto a running path that seemed to go around the entire area.

"So, why don't you want to go back?"

Nesta's words cut through Cassian's mind, drawing his attention away from the little pond they were passing and the ducks swimming there. "Uh…what?"

Well, that was a great response. Definitely the type to show Nesta he wasn't just the idiot werewolf she seemed to think he was.

"The Underworld," she clarified. "You and Azriel seem pretty intent on staying as long as we'll let you. Why is that? Why don't you want to go home?"

"Everyone needs a vacation Nes…ta." He caught himself just before the scolding came. She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrows raised. Cassian loosed a sigh. "Honestly, down there, it's hell."

Nesta snorted softly. "Sorry," she breathed when Cassian gave her a questioning look. "But, you know that's literally what most humans call the Underworld, right?"

"Yes, Nesta, I'm aware," he chuckled. "And obviously I don't mean hell in that literal sense." He lifted his arm and flicked her cheek softly. The amusement in her eyes nearly sent his heart soaring. "Then again, on some levels it is a lot like that. Not the eternal punishment thing, but it still sucks. It's dark all the time, and we don't have any living plants. Just dead bushes and trees, and dirt. A lot of dirt. We have houses and technology, it is a whole other world, but it's not as varied. It's main function is for work."

"Yeah, Az mentioned something about that. About how you all can do your work remotely and don't have to come up here? How does that work?"

Cassian didn't really want to talk about the entire structure of the Underworld. But if it kept Nesta engaged and speaking to him, he'd do it for a week straight. "Mostly through magic. Most demons have some small amount of magic. That's always been how we do our work - we use that magic to implant temptations, negative thoughts, dangerous desires, and more. The reason we had to come to Earth was because we typically needed to see the human, know them, to use that magic. Once we knew a person, we never had to go back to find them. Now, we can watch you all from our computers, get to know you and see you through the screen, and then play with your mind from the Underworld."

"That's creepy," Nesta cringed. "You all watch us?"

"Pretty much," he admitted. "Well, I mean, I don't. Not all demons do that work. Most of the werewolves are part of the armies of the Underworld. There are seven different princes of Hell, each one has their own army and their own demons who work for them. And they each get a different part of the Earth. The prince Az and I work for has North America. I lead his armies, Az manages all the demons."

"So Az is the creepy one?"

"Yup, exactly, remember that. Not me. Definitely not a creep over here." He gave her an awkward grin that seemed to force a small laugh from her.

Nesta 'hmmmm'd' in disbelief and turned them down a path that took them through a large garden. "Is that why Az was the demon who showed up when Gwyn did her spell?"

"It's possible," Cassian replied, his nose feeling a bit itchy. "I'm not sure why he was the one who got summoned, versus a lower demon in his organization. But i-it-it's unsurprising it wa-a-A-CHOO!" Cassian felt himself spit and spray all over the air. "Whoa. That felt weird."

"What? The sneeze?"

"Is that what that was?" Interesting. Cassian had never sneezed before, but he'd heard of them. He was about to tell Nesta just that when another one came on, this one even stronger.

Nesta came to a stop. "Okay, first of all, cover your mouth when you do that. Also, what is going on with you?"

"I'm not sure," he sighed, scratching at his arm. And then the back of his neck. "But I feel kinda weird. I definitely think another sneeze is coming. And I'm itchy all over."

Those blue-grey eyes surveyed the area, and were then scrunching up with her nose. "You probably have hay fever."

"What's that?"

"Uh, basically, you're allergic to nature," she explained. "Your body reacts negatively to it."

Well, that sucks. Cassian was finally able to experience grass and trees and flowers, only to find out that he couldn't be around them.

It seemed Nesta could read his thoughts on his face, because she added, "It's not a big deal. I have it, too. But I take medication for it. I can give you some tonight, so that the effects don't last. But we should probably head back so they don't get worse. And we definitely should leave the garden."

"But the flowers are so pretty!"

"And they're the worst when it comes to hay fever." Cassian pouted and Nesta gave him a sympathetic look. "But, maybe, if you're good tonight and not so annoying, I can bring you back here tomorrow, heavily medicated so you're not so affected."

Cassian's eyes widened as he practically shouted, "Deal!" There was no way he was going to pass up on that opportunity.

Nesta chuckled softly and turned, leading him back out of the garden and toward her house. Cassian didn't know exactly what 'being good' would entail, but whatever it was, he would do it. He'd been having the best conversation with Nesta he'd had so far, and if getting out of the house with her was the only way to do that, he'd do it again in a heartbeat. With or without this medication.

It was an effort not to laugh.

Of course, Nesta felt for Cassian. Allergies were the worst. But seeing this literal beast of a man become slow, slouchy, and sniffly because of a few trees was slightly amusing.

She was a bit upset to have to cut the run short, as shocking as that was. Nesta had actually been enjoying their conversation. The Underworld had always been a mystery to witches. And she was enjoying this other side of Cassian, a guy who was surprisingly easy and enjoyable to talk to.

"So," Cassian sniffled as they walked back down her street, "you're a witch."

"I am," Nesta confirmed.

"What's that like?"

Nesta shrugged, "Hard to say. I've been one my whole life. It's just who I am. I mean, what's it like being a werewolf?"

"Touché," Cassian chuckled just as Nesta opened the door for them.

"We're home!"

Gwyn rushed into the small foyer, looked a bit flushed and winded. "That was fast! I was expecting you to be gone for at least another half hour."

"Apparently, demons can get allergies, too. And I wasn't going to run alongside a constantly sneezing werewolf," Nesta explained, flashing Cassian a smirk. He smiled back at her, a twinkle in his eye.

Gwyn nodded in understanding, tucking her hair behind an ear. It was a nervous habit of hers. Why Gwyn would be nervous, Nesta had no idea. But she was going to find out. After a shower.

"Could Cassian use your shower?" Nesta asked, removing her shoes on the mat by the door.

Cassian perked up even more at that comment. "Oh, there's no need for that. We can share." He sent her a hazel wink.

Easy come, easy go. Though, Nesta didn't really mind the comment like she had been earlier. That run must've tired her out more than she thought. Or maybe it's just all the chaos of the weekend finally catching up with her. Either way, she simply responded with a small roll of her eyes and then headed up to her own bathroom as Gwyn agreed to Cassian using hers.

As she washed herself, Nesta couldn't stop her mind from wandering to the other being using up their hot water. To dark, shoulder-length hair he was likely lathering with shampoo right at that moment, to the abs she'd spent the past hour trying not to stare at, the corded muscles in his arms that rippled with each move step he'd taken on their jog. That vee of muscles she'd seen leading to his shorts, and something else…

Fuck.

This was going to be a problem.

a/n: I know, I know, it's been a while. But I always planned to come back to this, and look! I did it! 😄 Yay me! Hopefully, with spooky season coming, I'll have motivation for more. Plus, I like some of the stuff I did in this. Like the actual world building. And that's definitely bringing this back to the Halloween fic feel it was supposed to have. So fingers crossed!

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @lady-winter-sunrise @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @clemidansleschoux @meher-sumedha @labetenoir @vinylcryes @shinya-hiiragi @starryblueskies7 @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @aks18 @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red

#nessianweek2022 #nessian fic #nesta archeron #nessian #fan fiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #gwynriel fic #witch valkyries #witches #witch au #cassian #demons #werewolf #werewolf!cassian #witch!nesta

[starkovsnesta]

silence and noise (nesta x cassian)

Hey everyone! I’ve been wanting to publish something of these two for a long time but never actually found the courage untile now. I apologize for any mistakes you may find. Please read it and let me know what you think, even criticism is well accepted as long as it helps me grow and get better in what I love to do. I hope you are all well, God bless you and enjoy.

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read on ao3

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The walls became narrower and narrower. It was a dark room, the darkness solid enough to climb all the way up over her legs, torso, arms, and chest. Yes, the darkness tightened her chest, overbearing.

"Surrender" whispered in her ear with her muffled voice. But Nesta could not respond.

She continued to drown. And drown.

"Nesta" she called her.

Her name sounded like a hiss. "Nesta", another voice was added. And another one.

She closed her eyes, trying to drive away the noise but with no result. She could not send the darkness away, she could not silence the voices.

She tried and tried again every night. But it was all useless.

So, she surrendered.

 -------

  She woke up reeling, her hands clasped to her heart as if this would be enough to calm its tumult.

It was still late at night, barely a ray of moonlight came in through the window.

Nesta closed her eyes, inhaled deeply for a few seconds and then let her breath go.

The process had to be repeated for a good half an hour before it took effect. When her heart finally calmed down, the woman decided to get out of bed and head for the kitchen.

This wasn't the first time she had a nightmare, nor was it the first time this particular scenario had tormented her like this. She did not understand its meaning, and most of the time she preferred to forget rather than think about it.

Cassian's small house was cozy. A medium-sized cottage, clearly not intended to be shared with several people. The bare walls showed signs of aged paint. Everything was reminiscent of the past, a small casket suspended in time.

Sometimes, Nesta felt she could get used to that simple life. She had been living there for a few months now. She was not happy, yet she could not say she was sad. Somehow, staying away from Velaris made it easier for her to ignore some of her demons.

The male who lived with her tried every day to knock down her walls, never discouraged by how his fire went out once it fell on the stone fortress she had built. Cassian burned with a living fire. It was very different from the chilling one that consumed Nesta.

He was as welcoming as the four walls that housed her, and like the latter, she felt as if he were surrounding her.

He was in everything she did, in everything she thought, in the few times she opened her mouth. He flowed in her veins like her blood, and while everything seemed to her as a fruit of her own mind, he was an undeniable reality for her. Maybe that was the reason why sometimes she found it hard to face. Reality had the bad habit to make her suffocate, and the only solution , the only way she could breathe again was by ignoring it completely. And yet, the darkness followed her around. Sometimes quietly, not making a sound. Other times louder and louder, inviting her to welcome her embrace. This were the times where she had to fight with all of her fragile strength, and also the moments when she thought most of giving up. Cassian saw it all. Like her darkness, sometimes he stood by her silently. Other times, he made noise. He provoked her, sometimes screamed at her, sometimes teased her. As if he wanted his light to overcome her.

For this reason, she was not surprised when she entered the kitchen and found him sitting in a chair, silent.

His arms were resting on the table. His head tilted, his defeated gaze pointed at the wood as if it could reveal some hidden truth to him.

She knew that he had heard her footsteps and felt her closeness, yet he did not look up.

"Can't you sleep either?" he only asked her in a soft voice.

Nesta answered with a small sound of assent.

He looked up at her, who stood in front of the door.

He pointed a chair at her with his hand, inviting her to sit down.

"I will prepare a herbal tea," he said, and he stood up without waiting for her answer.

The woman had the impression that he was not doing it to do her a favor, but rather to have something to do, a goal although small.

For once, she did not stop him.  

She was too tired even to fight, she realized. And from the way his shoulders were curved, she knew that the same was true for him.

Neither of them could sleep well at night.

Sometimes Nesta would hear him fidgeting in his bed, whispering words in a language she did not know, but which seemed familiar to her because of the desperation with which they were pronounced. Other times, on those nights when all she could do was stare at the ceiling hoping that it would collapse on her, she would hear him get out of bed and wander around the house like a ghost, looking for something.

Those were the times when Nesta felt a strange instinct making room inside her, to move the blankets and go to him, just to make him aware of her presence. She would not tell him anything, she would just show herself to him. She would show herself.

What would have changed? How would it have helped him? She did not know.

But when, at the beginning of her alcohol detoxification, she had found herself hugging the toilet and throwing up whatever was still in her stomach, he was there.

He never went into the bathroom with her, knowing that she did not want to be seen in that painful state.

He remained outside the closed door, invisible to her eyes but present.

He wouldn't leave until her pulse calmed down. When her ears would ring from the pain, from the voices who did not shut up inside her head, she would find herself concentrating on his heartbeat. It marveled her how fast it was, a continuous sound, that managed to distract her mind. There were times when that heartbeat lulled her to sleep, so she often fell asleep on that cold floor, but miraculously woke up on the warm bed.

Cassian was as attracted to her coldness as she was to his warmth. And while neither of them ever wanted to admit that somehow their souls were always searching each other in the dark, they both welcomed the crumbs that the other left them.

Cassian put a steaming cup of tea in front of her. She whispered a "thank you" and drank. For a long moment, neither of them said a word.

"Is it to your liking?" asked the male in front of her.

She looked at him. Seeing him so tired made her heart ache a little bit, but her face remained unreadable when she replied "I will be satisfied", her tone the personification of superiority.

He laughed slightly.

"What would I do without your sweet words, darling?"

"It doesn't concern me," she replied, and then "don't call me that".

"Admit it, you actually love it when I call you that". He came slightly closer when he said those words. She didn’t know if the teasing was just a device to get his own mind off whatever was keeping him from rest, from peace.

Nesta puffed annoyed, hoping this would hide the slight redness that had risen to her cheeks due to the proximity. Even after months, she couldn’t stop herself. Mostly so when she felt this vulnerable.

"I would say that you say these things to sleep better at night but clearly, this is not the case".

Cassian burst out laughing, throwing his head back. The sound sent a vibration inside her, and she chilled a little.

He looked at her with his eyes wide open. "Did I really just hear a joke from Nesta Archeron?"

"Please don't let anyone hear you. I have a reputation"

Cassian whistled, "I don't think people could be less terrified of you even if you were to pursue a career as a court jester, sweetheart."

Nesta smiled a little. When he described her that way, he did so with admiration and respect. Almost as if she were a dreaded general like him.

It made her wonder if he saw her that way, as an equal. It wasn’t a thing men did when confronted to her. She knew she didn’t meet the expectations of human society, that as a woman she wasn’t meant to be proud and strong-willed. Ever since she was a kid, she had hoped inside of her that she could change the rules somehow. Be just as the heroines in her precious books, and make a man fall in love with her just by existing. But she had learnt the hard way that somehow dreams were just meant to be that. Thomas had proved it to her. And yet, Cassian was everything she never expected a man to be. Especially towards a woman. He was teasing and provoking, sure. But he could also be gentle and respectful. He never forced himself on her, defying her most profound fears. Instead, he waited patiently for her to give him what she wanted, even if she knew her drops left him unsatisfied.

"You are not terrified of me, though," she reminded him.

He sneered, "Oh no, the truth is danger has an annoying tendency to attract me."

She laid her arms on the table and leaned a little towards him. She couldn't help but notice the way his jaw tightened, and his eyes fell for a brief moment on her lips.

A thrill of energy burst inside her, enjoying the distraction that this conversation was giving her.

"Are you saying I'm dangerous, General?"

"Terribly."

In response, she smiled.

They continued to observe each other, two tired souls awakened by the same desire. It would have been so easy to abandon herself in his arms, allowing him to hold her tight to himself until he suffocated her.

But this would have given him a power that Nesta was not ready to give away.

She didn't know if she would ever be.

She desired him. And yet, the idea of lowering her defenses for a time, even just to have sex, terrified her.

And she was sure that no matter what she repeated to herself, sleeping with him would please her heart as much as her body.

And she could not allow it.

In Cassian's eyes seemed to burn the same battle.

Their faces were a few inches away. She could see the way he looked at her.

If only she had come a little bit closer, just a little bit -

"What nightmare won't let you sleep?" he suddenly asked her.

She violently withdrew, as if someone had slapped her in the face.

She had forgotten her dream.

"What do you care?" she asked him abruptly.

How dare he bring her back to reality like that? But as she demanded it to herself, with rage, she also gave herself the answer: he is as real as a forest fire can be. She could pretend he was not there, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting closer and closer, until she could feel her skin burn, she could feel herself be marked by him. There was no way to stop it. And again, the only solution was to run away. To build a tower that was so high, so hard, that all his fire could was to accept the defeat.

He shrugged "Simple curiosity."

But from the way he kept staring at her, Nesta knew it was much more than that.

"What is it? Are you anxious to tell your beloved High Lady that her devastated sister can't sleep at night?" she spat poisonously.

Cassian stiffened.

Feyre was a delicate subject between them. His loyalty to her sister made her angry. No one seemed to notice the faults of the young fae, or rather they decided to justify them without too much thought.

"She cares about you," he replied, just as she expected.

She snorted. "Sure, because my little sister is so good and dear, isn't she? She is doing all of this for me, not to get rid of a dead weight."

Cassian stood up and stood in front of her. His fists were clenched.

"Don't talk like that" he imposed.

She remembered his face in battle, his eyes lit up with rage, his body alive and full of a force capable of destroying everything around him.

She remembered his words

I have no regret but this.

No. Nesta repelled those thoughts with all her strength, closing herself in her coldness.

She watched him recognize her defense mechanism instantly. Cassian's face changed.

"I think I'll go to bed now," she announced, before she could turn around and climb the stairs ignoring the male who called for her blood like a siren, he grasped her hand. They both seemed to paralyze at the gesture. They were brought back in time, at a terrible night who had scarred them deeper than they could admit. Nesta looked at him in the eyes, daring him to plead her as he did when she broke his heart. But he didn’t. Instead, he let go gently, and with a tired tone he asserted ”I wish I could hate you.”

It was a punch she didn’t expect, but she knew she deserved. She did not know what hurt more: the fact that he had tried to feel like that towards her, or his impossibility of him to do so despite everything, despite her. She climbed the stairs with fury.

She reached the door to her room quickly, anxious to get rid of that annoying feeling that had been insidious in her belly. That desire to scream, to destroy something, to fight.

She closed her eyes as soon as she was in her room.

She breathed deeply, then let her breath go, trying to catch her control again. For a moment, there was only the dark inside her room. No sound was made by either of them, as if scared of the consequence it could cause. If only a few words could make her burn and get cold at once, what would happen if they were to sit down and actually have a discussion about every single thing they felt? Before she could go back to bed, though, she heard his voice faintly whisper "you are not a dead weight".

She stopped in front of her bed for a moment. And, before she could stop it, before she could go back to pretend that nothing could ever touch her, a quiet tear slid on her cheek.

#nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta and cassian #acotar #nessian fan fiction #nessian one shot #acotar fan fiction #acotar one shot #nessian fic #nessian fanfic #nessian fanfiction

[bookofmirth]

hi!!! can you help me maybe locate a fic? i think it was nessian... and...i feel like it was pretty recent? i just remember the graphic that went with it had a coffee with it. and i feel like there was something about guns? i know this is literally nothing to go off of and i wish i would have saved it but alas i did not. it might have been called black and bitter or something like that? I THINK IT HAD TO DO WITH COFFEE

Oh hmmm... I’m not sure which fic this is? I’ll put it in the tags, and if anyone else knows help a nonnie out!!

#nessian #nessian fan fiction #acotar #acosf #sarah j maas #ask

[theladyofbloodshed]

Obviously your blog is mostly centered around the shit storm that is ACOTAR. I'm curious, how do you feel about TOG? If you've read it that is. I've always preferred TOG to ACOTAR, mostly besides Dorian owns my heart, it also seemed more sculpted I guess (that's not the exact word I was looking for, but it works), and less focused on "romance" or whatever the fuck this wasn't meant to be a pun but the fact that it was my first thought for word choice is funny. Feysand and Nessian are, even tho romance is something that happens throughout the series and becomes more of a focus in later books, and I just preferred Celaena overall to Feyre. I know the series has its issues and isn't perfect by any means at all, my very strong prescription rose-colored glasses aren't that tinted. 😂 I read the series for the first time when I was a teenager, technically I read ACOTAR at the same age but we'll overlook that for now, the characters and the story have a special place in my heart and I'm not sure if it's actually good-aside from it's clear problems-or just my aforementioned rose colored glasses.

Totally okay if you don't answer questions about SJM's other series, if you do answer pls be gentle despite telling myself I'm not I'm Soft 😂. I trust your opinion, which is why I'm asking despite being Soft. Hope you have a better day tomorrow and Hercules is an incredible choice after a difficult day. 💜

Buckle up, this will be long!!!!

Weirdly, I was living in Copenhagen and I was in a group for young people new to the city and somebody wrote about making a book club. 4 of us turned up - one from USA, one from Netherlands, one from Spain, and me - so we were just chatting about books in a coffee shop and somebody recommended throne of glass. I'd tried to read books like divergent and the mortal instruments and did not like the "chosen girl who is the best at everything" cliche so I was like HARD PASS. (At that point Empire of Storms and ACOMAF had come out that year).

I didn't think about that book again but I did keep going to the library and I read Maze Runner which I loved and still pair with my time in Denmark lmao.

Anyway. I also did reddit gift exchanges and one year (maybe 2017/2018), somebody sent me Tower of Dawn and ACOTAR. I didn't touch either for ages. They just sat on my shelf because neither appealed.

Anyway, in a bid to read the books piling up on my shelves, I started acotar and my thoughts were "this girl is so dumb" "i cannot believe she can be this stupid" "my goodness she is annoying". I then borrowed the others from a library and was a fan of the side characters rather than feyre THEN I moved onto ToG.

I really enjoyed the first book. Loved a fun competition between assassins. I wanted her and Nox to get together rather than Chaol or Dorian. 2nd one felt off? Then the rest felt like a different series. I'll be honest, I did enjoy them but it didn't hook me the same way ACOTAR did. Cannot pinpoint why.

Feyre is annoying. Caelena is annoying

Rhys is annoying and abusive. Rowan is annoying and abusive.

Side characters make both series.

One thing that I really didn't like about Tog was how Kaltain was made to be that mean, man-hungry girl in the first... she didn't need "redemption", she was literally just a courtier set in a time where women needed to marry up. Again it was SJM's nasty side coming through like she did to Nesta/Elain in book one.

I loved Lorcan and Elide. They were probably my favourite chapters to read. Plus Manon's. I really enjoyed tower of dawn too - Yrene and Chaol were also one of my favourite couples.

This is so disjointed, sorry.

Overall yes i liked tog but I've only read it once. Don't love it enough to write fan fiction, but also there's not enough to make me angry like acotar.

#anon asks