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#nessian fanfiction

Ok I’ve seen a few people looking for a Nessian version of the Bridgerton library scene, and I remembered that I had one from a few months ago that was in my fic Renegade Knights. Literally just pulled this out of the story so if you want context you can read the fullt story, but if you just want library oral sex then feel free to enjoy…

Nesta flips through a few pages of the book before she sets it face down on a table beside one of the many reading chairs in her new library. Just as she does a low whistle sounds from a floor below her and Nesta turns, always a little unnerved at how silently Cassian is able to move for such a large male.

           “Rhys does love to go overboard, doesn’t he?” Cassian scoffs, taking in the space.

           “Please” Nesta waves a hand “I’ve seen the size of the jewels he gives Amren, this is a bargain gift in comparison”

           “Big words for someone who was wearing a blood ruby the size of an egg around her neck a few days ago.”

           “Last I checked, no one actually paid for that” Nesta points out coyly. Cassian smirks, flapping his wings to come face to face with her in a second, hovering in front of the bannister wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers. Nesta bites her lip, still not entirely used to her 24/7 front row ticket to all of those muscles. “There is a staircase, you know”

           “This is so much more fun, though” he grins, putting a hand on the bannister and easily leaping over it so that he stands right in front of her, eyes trailing down to her barely-there lace nighty. “Ridiculous that you keep putting these on considering how many I have ripped at this point” he hooks a single finger under the thin strap and Nesta clamps her hand over his.

           “Not in my new library” she scolds him.

           Cassian raises an eyebrow “you don’t want it to feel left out, do you?” Nesta stares at him “it’s the only room in this house that we haven’t christened yet.”

           “You’re insatiable” she sighs, even as she tips her head back and lets him push her gently against one of the bookshelves, his tongue is flicking across the pulse point on her neck in an instant, and she likes that there is no reason to hide the moan that escapes her lips. She lets him play for a few moments, smiling at his ministrations, before taking the opportunity to turn the tables.

           Nesta grins wickedly, flipping them so that Cassian’s back is against the bookshelf. She runs a hand across the tight muscles in his chest and then sighs as she carefully starts to trail her hand farther down, until her thumb loops itself inside the waistband of his shorts. She pauses, catching his eyes and kissing him slowly, gently. He moves a hand to her strap again and Nesta uses the hand not in his boxers to slap him away “ah ah, no hands, or I’ll stop” she grins.

           “Stop what?” he asks, mouth falling open as he feels Nesta’s tongue tracing the lines of the tattoo on his shoulder, following the battle symbols down his torso. Her hand seamlessly slips his shorts away, tongue still moving south as she trails her way down, down, down.

           “Fuck, Nesta” his moan is guttural, and it is no surprise that he is fully at attention when Nesta finally sinks onto her knees, dipping her tongue into the hollow space between his pelvic muscles and the place where he really wants her. She pauses for a moment, looking up at him with her stormy gaze, eyes bright and playful. He swears again “you’re driving me crazy”

           “Get used to it” her mouth vibrates against his skin as she moves down to finally, finally run her tongue across the head of him.

           Cassian moans hard as he watches Nesta’s head bob up and down rhythmically, her tongue flicks the underside of his cock and he swears he might lose it right then and there like a teenager who has never felt a woman before. Gods, the things that she can do to him. Cassian moves gently, ever so carefully to run a hand through her hair from above, feeling his fingers work through the soft strands as he strokes the top of her head.

           It is unbelievable how the simple feeling of his hand, carefully entangled in her hair makes Nesta groan around his length. She knows that she said no hands, but his calloused fingers are so soft and gentle as they caress the top of her head. The feeling is reverent, as though even if she is the one on her knees, he is still worshipping her. He doesn’t grip her hair or try to push her down farther like that male she brought home did once. Nesta had thrown him out of her open window.

           “I can’t hold on much longer if you want to-” Cassian tries to keep his voice steady as he warns her, but he loses it into a series of expletives when she starts purposefully moving faster, swirling her tongue around him. It is when she looks up at him again, eyebrow raised, eyes positively brimming with the silent challenge that she has presented him since the second he met her, that Cassian feels himself fall over the edge, stars clouding his vision, he swears that instead of going black in that moment of ecstasy, his vision is overtaken with the exact shade of grey-blue that is staring up at him. The steely, determined, teasing gaze of a worthy opponent. The eyes that have stared and cried and torn and fought and challenged and taken over his every waking thought since first he saw her.

           A blade given form indeed- sleek, beautiful, and dangerous as hell.

           And his. She is all his, Cassian considers pinching himself to make sure it isn’t just a dream, but…

           “If all of this is a dream, I am going to gut the person who wakes me like a fish”

           Nesta laughs, standing up with a coy smile. Cassian catches her around the waist and kisses her softly “your turn” he whispers, hand going to that infernal strap for the third time, finally managing to snap it under his powerful fingers.

37 notes

A/N:I think I already made a post saying I don’t think Cassian is jealous, I think Eris and Nesta are friends by now, and I think Cassian and Nesta are some kinda couple from the time this snippet takes place. THAT BEING SAID- I still wrote a jealous Cassian fic bc why tf not? Also I didn’t proofread like I should have. It is what it is.

Also, this is not Eris hate, this is I think too much of his story, especially with Mor, is reminiscent of Nesta with Tomas, and I just don’t think they could easily be friends considering how triggering Nesta would find Eris to be. 

I know a lot of people are into Nesta and Eris as lovers (I’m sorry but ew) and then even as a brotp. I can get behind a friendship if there is obviously a solid reveal that he is no complicit in a lot of the things it’s assumed he is. Frankly, LOL, I dislike Eris as of now but that’s a personal thing. Anyways- this was in my mind all day and it’s finally done. 

I hope you enjoy! 

Tagging: @bookstantrash @sayosdreams @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @moe8 @courtofjurdan @cassianscool @vasudharaghavan @greerlunna @allilal @perseusannabeth @sjm-things

Warnings: References to assault, sexual assault, and mature language


Eris bowed gracefully to Nesta as their dance came to an end. The most civil Cassian had ever seen the oldest of Beron’s brood. Courtiers began to drift away as the next orchestral piece began, violins beginning a slowly rising hum of strings.

Cassian would have preferred to rip his pale throat out with his canines when the prick had sauntered over and interrupted them. Cassian and Nesta were having a vivid argument on why she was refusing to wear a weapon under her dress. She swore if she felt the metal she’d trip but Cassian wanted her to be safe. She hadn’t paid him any mind however, and he was sure she was about to give another valid retort when the slimy redhead had asked her if she would like to dance with him.

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143 notes

Update: I think my tags haven’t been working but if they were and I bothered you again, I’m SORRY :(. And a question, how do you feel about smut in this series? Bc I already wrote it…I’m not saying it’s gonna happen anytime soon, I’m just saying it’s done.

A/N:Hello lovelies,

Remember when I said the next chapter was halfway done. Well look at where we are now- an update three days after the last! I’m honestly so shook by how fast I did that because usually I’m horrible with staying on top of chapter updates.

Not much to update on except, my semester starts soon and I don’t know how frequently I’ll be able to write. I may have to sacrifice some plot to get to the healing and Nessian storyline instead, because I do want to finish this story before ACOSF comes out. We shall see how that goes though… 🙄. Did I proofread? Yes. Will there probably still be something I missed? Also yes.

As always enjoy!

Tagging: @bookstantrash @greerlunna @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @cassianscool@sjm-things@perseusannabeth@allilal@courtofjurdan@vasudharaghavan@sayosdreams​ @moe8

Warnings: References to sexual assault, depressive thoughts, self-hate, panic attack



                                     Chapter 11-Nesta

Nesta felt Cassian’s hands on her waist long after they were gone. Long after he was gone, off to train his soldiers or something of the sort in the rings.

She thought to perhaps clean up and go watch him train. It was a wicked little part of her that still longed to see him without his shirt, sweaty and panting as he sparred in the rings. That Nesta wasn’t allowed any more opinions though, so after steeling herself against her wild thoughts, Nesta forced herself to take a bath in the tub of the main bathroom. A very cold, very gooseflesh-inducing, miserable bath. She didn’t even allow herself to entertain the idea of using Cassian’s shower, even though he had already told her she was welcome to do so after she trained.

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30 notes

Not me crying while working on the next chapter of missing pieces. This one is gonna hurt. I’m not even past my starting point and I’m already in tears thinking about how Nesta might have felt alll of this, I hope you guys like it when it comes out I’m going to be working on it all day today and tomorrow and trying to get it out by tomorrow as well .

17 notes

“What a remarkable thing it was for the woman who thought herself incapable of love, and the man who thought himself underserving of love, to fight and scream and heal and forgive until they both found exactly what they were looking for, exactly what they never had- a home. And a family. And a love that is truly unconditional.”

Thank you to everyone who came on this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed my version of Nesta and Cassian’s story, and now it is only a little over a month until we get their real one!

10 notes

Working on a little Nessian oneshot that I think will be the last Nessian fic I write before A Court of Silver Flames is released!

Here’s a six-sentence preview from my currently untitled oneshot:

“Train with me, Nesta.”

She did not need to peel her eyes away from her dagger to discover who was talking to her. The low timbre of his voice was familiar to her—and one she heard nearly everyday. 

“That sounds like an order,” she answered coolly from where she sat on a log and continued to sharpen her dagger against the stone in her hand. “I’m not very fond of being told what to do,” she added in a casual tone. 

“My sincerest apologies,” he replied.

🤞 hoping to post the oneshot sometime this month!

18 notes

Fanfiction masterlist


Originally posted by painfulblisss

This is literally just smut with feels, but it’s also like… mostly feels? Warning: Contains mature content not suitable for some young readers. Read at your own risk.

Cassian found his mate in the temple of the Cauldron, bathed in moon and candlelight. He came in slowly, unable to tear her eyes off of her. Wrapped in their bed sheet and nothing else, she looked like a goddess of the old days. 

“Come here,” she said, turning her face towards him, but not the whole way.

He obeyed instantly, wrapping his arms around her waist to bury his face in her unbound hair. “Why are you out here, my love?”

“I don’t know….” Her hands slid over his forearms. “I just… I want you here.”

“You want me here? I am here.” He kissed her cheek. “What can I do for you?”

“I…” She trailed off, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“Sweetheart, you have to talk to me.”

It was the warmest night of the year, but still comfortable this high in the mountains. There was nothing else besides a faint breeze, ruffling their hair, though it had rained last night, leaving the steps to the temple damp. Nesta, with her bare feet, had left a trail along the dry tiles, flickering reflections of the moonlight.

She turned in Cassian’s arms, clutching the sheet around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, almost scared, but he knew better than that. 

“What is it?”

But she walked away from him, towards the stone altar, where she dropped the sheet around herself. “I want you to take me. Here.”

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70 notes

Mini Nessian Masterlist :)

It started with cookies mini-series

Random One-Shots 

26 notes

Hello lovelies,

I hope everyone is having an uneventful new year and I do mean this bc where I live, this is not true and not in a good way. I hope everyone is safe, happy, and healthy and enjoys this new chapter. I wrote it about a week ago and got this dumb idea to write the next chapter and release them together except I’m horrific at deadlines and then I didn’t finish the next chapter (it’s almost done though so yay!).

In terms of writing Nessian this chapter, I really didn’t feel like making them fight and I kinda wanted them to get some more soft moments. I have this sort of feeling that when Nesta and Cassian aren’t in Velaris and in front of the IC, even though there is so much unsaid stuff they need to deal with and all their issues, I really feel like there is this ease between them where sometimes masks come off and they have mini heart to hearts. I could be wrong, this is just my interpretation. As always enjoy!

Warnings:References to violence

Tagging: @bookstantrash @sayosdreams @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @courtofjurdan @allilal @greerlunna @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @vasudharaghavan @moe8 @cassianscool

                                🦇  ———————– 🦇

                                Chapter 10-Cassian

Cassian didn’t sleep well that night.

Ironic, considering he had told Nesta to go to bed right after she had finished her meal, in an effort to have her alert and ready for training the next day.

Her admission had wrecked him. That she had been scared for her life. Helpless. He didn’t see anyone at fault but himself.

Some part of him inside had known that old wounds had been reopened from the past week for Nesta. Between Delani’s assault and her own harrowing escape from the males two nights prior, he knew she had to be reeling from memories she often kept under wraps. Or so he assumed. It was what he would do, what he did do when it came to trauma he didn’t feel up to confronting. Which was almost all of his life when he wasn’t with his family in Velaris.

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So after gathering the votes from both Tik Tok and tumblr I’m writing about Nesta after ACOWAR next and let me tell you I already have a plan set up and it’s going to be heart breaking, ugh I’m excited to right it yet I feel like I’m going to make a few fan of this fanfiction cry like I’m probably going to writing it.

21 notes

“Have you lost your damn mind?”

Here you go, @thalia-2-rose


It was the last place he expected to see her and the look cost him. 

A blade sliced into Cassian’s arm a moment before he turned, bringing his own down on the attackers neck. It went in, cutting through the man’s collarbone and into his chest. Cassian wrenched his blade out as the man fell, kicking him away. He turned into another attacker, ducking under his guard and shoved him to the ground. Plunging  his blade into his neck bought him the time he needed to burst into the gloomy sky.

And there she was. Her hair, lighter than any Illyrian’s, even in the rain, made her easy to pick out amongst the crowd. Her sword swung. Too wide. She didn’t have enough training. She swung too wide—

Cassian dropped down in front of her, catching the blade driving towards her unprotected side. He roared as the Illyrian steel screeched, but Cassian was stronger than the coward against him— he had worked for centuries for that strength. He angled his wrist, pushing the man’s blade toward him, forcing him to let go.

In two more movements, he was dead.

Cassian turned, grabbing Nesta around the waist, and dragged her, screaming, into the air.

He flew them to a small ledge on the mountain, dropping her perhaps a little rougher than usual given that she was actively trying to get out of his arms.

“What the fuck—”

“Have you lost your damn mind?” he yelled. “What the hell were you doing down there?”

She shoved him. “I was trying to help you.”

“You were trying to get yourself killed!”

 “I knew exactly—”

“No, you didn’t, Nesta! You didn’t know what you were doing!” His chest heaved. “And now I am up here fucking babysitting you when I could be down there winning a fucking war, all because you can’t follow orders!”

She took a step back, bumping into the rock, slick with rain. “I’m not one of your soldiers, Cassian,” she said quietly, staring him down. 

His eyes widened. “That’s not what I—”

“It is exactly what you meant.” 

He reached for her hand. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Nesta, I’m sorry.” He took a breath, calming the battle raging through his blood. “You aren’t one of my soldiers, which is why I need you safe. You have limited experience with weapons, none in battle. You are good, but not enough. Not yet. And if you are out there then I can’t do what I need to do because I am worried that I am going to find your body.” He took a step forward, reaching up. At her nod, he cradled her face between his bloody palms, leaning his brow against hers. “Please, Nesta.”

“Okay,” she whispered, holding his wrists. “Okay.”

“We have time,” he said to himself. 

She leaned up to kiss him lightly on the lips. “We have time.”


Tags: @a-trifling-matter @vanilla28 @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @illyrianwitchling13 @feyrheart @sarahjmaasslave @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max @gendryaforthemasses @nestaarxheron @imlumpingamazingstuff @silver-flames @awesomelena555 @ribhinnog @sannelovesreading @over300books @sayosdreams @illyrian-bookworm @perseusannabeth @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thalia-2-rose @my-fan-side @skychild29 @superspiritfestival @nahthanks @duskandstarlight @julemmaes

101 notes

Summary: Sometimes when you’re sick, you’re not actually sick; or the one where Nesta doesn’t want to go out with the Inner Circle and instead of being left on her own Feyre, Elain, and Cassian opt to stay with her. Featuring a grumpy Nesta for most of this fic.  

Depending on how this goes, it might add into another one-shot that I’m thinking of… so stay tuned. 


Her sisters keep looking at her. She can see their not-so-subtle glances as they casually reach for the shelf next to her or explain that they need to grab a book somewhere behind. The light is dim, you’ll hurt your eyes if you read in the dark. It’s been a few hours, try a snack.

They’re ruminating, she decides as Feyre stares deeply at where she sits on the armchair and minds her own business. Yet there comes Elain with a plate full of cookies and the gaggle of the rest of them entering the large foyer.

Feyre does this on purpose, she thinks, making the estate’s library in the center of the living room. Perhaps, Feyre knows that if she wants her older sister out in public, she has to entice her with solitude.

Truthfully, they’ve been this way since her and Cassian’s inevitable return.

She supposes it’s her own fault, for giving them the cold shoulder, for being oddly quiet about her life in Illyria. 

And, Cassian doesn’t tell them anything. Nesta likes watching them squirm enough that she simply stares ahead, a curious gleam in her eyes as they ask her a question she will not respond to. All of them try to ask, even Amren who outright questions whether she’s back to her old self.

Nesta scoffs, old self. She has not changed. All she’s learned is to hide it better or reap the consequences.

But something must be different about her, because Feyre and Elain will not leave her alone. She sighs, pursing her lips as the bedraggled gang set themselves into the chairs nearest her. Cassian taking up the whole loveseat, Mor hiking herself onto the desk as Azriel goes to the window, his shadows following. Amren sets herself up on the coffee table, puzzles already strewn about in pieces and Rhysand… he goes to Feyre as he always does. Nesta resists rolling her eyes as they do that thing they often do where they talk into each other’s minds. She wonders if they actually think they’re being inconspicuous.

Cassian looks to her casually, but she does not meet his gaze, opting for sinking further into her seat and hiking her book up to her knees.

“Well, I think we should celebrate your return with a night out at Rita’s,” Mor offers brightly.

“That seems more like a celebration for you,” Azriel chimes, his tone light even in the deep, sardonic notes.

Mor shrugs. “Maybe it is. I quite frankly am glad your back,” She points to Azriel and Amren, “these two were no fun while you were away. And those two—” Mor points to Feyre and Rhys who both turn at the same time, “well… they were the same.”

Cassian laughs, and Nesta sinks further in her chair as they talk around her. Talk as if she’s not there as if she doesn’t really exist. Just another book on the shelf, another window to peer out of. As nameless as one of the puzzle pieces that bedeck mahogany lines.

TO BE Continued…


I’m clearly procrastinating other things, but I’m so freakin’ bored and I have nothing better to do, and one-shots right now are all I can handle. 

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

48 notes

I got you. I was originally gonna do this so it was Nesta getting the massage, but I thought that that might be a little over rated, so I went this route instead.


Cassian hissed through his teeth as he found his way home, the snow biting into his skin in a way that reminded him too much of those winters when he was a boy. It had been a long time since he’d spent this long in the mountain, and had avoided the winters for this very reason.

Today had been the first day of formal training for many of the women in the camp. It had taken months and a civil war for Cassian to be able to train them in the open like this, to have dozens waiting for him when he joined them at dawn.

It made his heart ache.

But his heart wasn’t the only thing aching.

They had pushed him— far more than he’d been pushed in a while. He relished it, every question, every hold, every weapon. More than a few had put him on his back in the dirt.

So he stayed long, after everyone had gone, to put in that extra exercise that he knew he’d been neglecting.

And now, he regretted it.

Cold did absolutely nothing to help ease sore muscles.

Gritting his teeth, he thumped his way up the porch steps to the cabin he shared with Nesta, wings tucked tight against the cold. He brushed as much snow off of him as he could before entering, but it was hopeless. Maybe this was what snowmen felt like— instantly stiff and cold.

Cauldron, he was tired.

When he entered, the cabin was quiet and dark, save for a roaring fire in the hearth. He could have collapsed with relief.

“Sweetheart?” he called, trying to stop his chattering teeth. He kicked off his boots, shuffling over to the fire.

Nesta emerged from her bedroom, wrapped in a woolen robe. She was absolutely stunning, as always. Her hair was down tonight, falling in soft waves across her shoulders. 

He didn’t realize he was staring until she cleared her throat awkwardly. Things were still tense between them, sometimes explosive, but they had eased. She let him hold her some nights and ran her hands through his hair in the mornings. With each day that passed, the wall between them crumbled. Some days it was pebbles. Some it was mountains.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Nesta asked, even if they both knew she was a terrible cook.

Cassian shook his head, dislodging a clump of snow that fell with a pathetic thump onto that rug. He looked at it with a sigh. “I’m not hungry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He didn’t answer that. They both knew. “I’m just gonna go to bed, then. It’s been an exhausting day.”

As he passed her, she allowed him the simple pleasure of pressing a kiss to her forehead, before he moved stiffly down the hall and winced.

“You’re sore,” Nesta said from behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

 “Like I said, it’s been a long day.” He tried to keep the snap from his voice, but he really did just want to go to bed. Maybe a hot bath… well, no. The thought of having to stay awake long enough for the water to heat pained him.

“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

“What?” He turned, lifting an eyebrow.

Nesta stubbornly looked away. “You heard me. I’m not going to offer again.”

“Well, you were mumbling, so I thought I might have been mistaken.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes or no.”

Fuck, there was no way he could turn that down. “Do you want me to get the oils, or…”

She was instantly in motion, as if glad to have been given a task. “I’ll get them. Lay down in front of the fire.”

He obeyed, shrugging out of his coat stiffly, then his leathers, then his undershirt. His body protested the lack of heat, but the fire was welcome as he sat before it in only his undershorts. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen this much of him, and he prayed wouldn’t be the last. 

“I said lay down,” Nesta barked from behind him.

He glared at the space in front of him, even if she couldn’t see, and lay on his stomach, wings nearly reaching either side of the living room.

A moment later, a weight settled on his ass. He tried to look over her shoulder at her, but she put a hand on the side of his face, pushing it onto the rug. He huffed a laugh, folding his arms beneath his head.

A moment of stillness.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked, ruffling the loose fibers of the rug.

“Of course I do,” she snapped, and he believed her. She had worked alongside the nurses during the war— they had to have taught her something. 

And so she began.

The oil dripped across his skin, between his wings, across his shoulders, his lower back. She smoothed it on carefully before beginning on either side of his neck. He rested his brow atop his fingers, turning his head to provide her better access. 

He was surprised, at first, to find that such small hands were so strong. As she kneaded the muscles of his neck with her oiled fingers, he suppressed a groan, biting down on his bottom lip. As she worked, his muscles unlocked slowly under her ministrations, his body relaxing until he drifted off into sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but when he awoke, it was to a curious brush across the base of his wing. He startled, whipping his head around. “What are you doing?”

Nesta’s cheeks were a brilliant scarlet. “I— I wanted to see what they felt like.”

“You can’t touch an Illyrian’s wings, sweetheart.”

“Why not? Are they not like any other body part?”

“They’re very sensitive. You can make an untried male come with just his wings.”

“Oh— oh.” She pulled both hands away, even if she hadn’t been touching them just now. “I’m sorry, then. You had just fallen asleep and I was finished and I didn’t mean to wake you…”

He let out a soft laugh, folding his wings so he could turn over beneath her. It was a maneuver easier said than done, but he managed not to hit her in the face with the arch of his wing.

“What are you doing?” she snapped when he sat up so they were nose to nose, his hands on her hips.

“I’m thanking you,” he said, and leaned in, perhaps to kiss her lips, but at her widened stare, he turned his face and pressed his mouth to her cheek instead. “Thank you.”

“You aren’t welcome.”


Tags: @a-trifling-matter @vanilla28 @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @illyrianwitchling13 @feyrheart @sarahjmaasslave @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max @gendryaforthemasses @nestaarxheron @imlumpingamazingstuff @silver-flames @awesomelena555 @ribhinnog @sannelovesreading @over300books @sayosdreams @illyrian-bookworm @perseusannabeth @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thalia-2-rose @my-fan-side @skychild29 @superspiritfestival @nahthanks

152 notes

Water runs down my back and over my face mixing with my tears. I had just been reading when my heart squeezed and sped up causing everything to shake and seize up. 

I always hate it when this happens, never knowing how to calm myself down. For some reason, this time, my body compelled me to sit down in the tub and turn the showerhead on so it felt like rain was pouring over me. So that is what I did. 

I have no clue how long I’ve been here–how much longer I would have sat there–if I didn’t hear heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I had forgotten about Cassian in my panic, and therefore my walls holding back all my sorrow. 

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49 notes

Abso-freaking-lutely. This didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, but I hope you guys enjoy. This takes place after Cassian’s wings got destroyed and Nesta was turned fae.


Cassian knew that he should be there. His wings were barely healed enough for him to properly lift them and it took his body’s entire strength to drag himself up those stairs to the House of Wind.

But he had to see her.

Grunting, his shoulders slumped at the sight of the great door leading into the carved-out mountain. He pushed it open with minimal pain, but his wings screamed as a particularly strong gust of wind threw them into the side of the mountain.

He hissed, rightening himself, and slipped away from the wind’s claws, into the safety of the carved stone. From there, he followed her scent like a dog, leading him to the library.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was, to find Nesta curled in a chair, so absorbed in her reading that she didn’t hear him come in. She licked her finger, turning a page with the grace of a centuries old fae.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

She didn’t jump, like he’d expected her to, only flicked her eyes to his, then back down. 

“Silent treatment, I see. Well, you should know that I am healing brilliantly, as is Azriel, in case you were concerned.”

“I wasn’t.”

Cool. Dismissive.

Utterly out of reach.

He moved before he could stop himself, crossing the room to snatch the book from her hands. Even injured, he moved faster than her, retreating quickly to the balcony. “Why, what is it you’re reading? Oh, by the forgotten gods, this is smut.” 

Nesta’s snarl sent a chill through his bones. “It is literature. Now give it back.”

“Come over here and make me.” He needed to see it again— her fire. Needed it to warm him.

She moved like a panther, uncoiling herself from the chair, and his heart pounded. When she stopped, she was close enough to kiss him, her breasts brushing his chest. He wasn’t sure he was breathing.

“Give me,” she said with deadly quiet, “the book.”

He’d give her anything, he thought, to have her talk to him like that in the bedroom— or maybe to silence that wicked tongue of hers in favor of a moan. Which would she prefer? To have him underneath her, at her mercy, or to let him have his way with her body and show her what real pleasure was like.

He could imagine it. Could taste it.

So he leaned down, putting his mouth right next to the point of her ear, and repeated, “Make me.


Tags: @a-trifling-matter @vanilla28 @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @illyrianwitchling13 @feyrheart @sarahjmaasslave @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max @gendryaforthemasses @nestaarxheron @imlumpingamazingstuff @silver-flames @awesomelena555 @ribhinnog @sannelovesreading @over300books @sayosdreams @illyrian-bookworm @perseusannabeth @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thalia-2-rose @my-fan-side @skychild29 @superspiritfestival @nahthanks

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Dance Like Your Falling In Love

Summary: One shot; Cassian doesn’t know how to dance, everyone tries to teach him but he’s hopeless.

I implore you to listen to The Dance from Martin Phipps, one of the best scores I’ve ever heard from BBC’s War and Peace. Please Please listen as you read. Youtube, Spotify. Whatever, This whole fic is based off of that score.



“You have faced beings larger than you, more powerful, more dangerous, and yet you’re telling me that you’re afraid to dance,” Rhys offered skeptically.

“I am not afraid…” Cassian grumbled. “I just don’t see why I have to do it.”

It, being the dreaded waltz that they were now discussing as being “necessary” for future political endeavors. Bull. Shit.

Feyre leaned her head back against the settee where Rhys was shuffling through papers. “The next meeting we have with the high lords will be at a ball.”

“And not just the high lords will be there,” Azriel chimed in, “the leaders from the continent as well.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “So what? We have to show off our table manners to get them to sign a treaty?”

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A/N: A silly little one-shot I put together from a long time ago, that I never got around to finishing. But hey, it’s the new year. It’s a new me. We finish all of our untouched drafts from now on is my resolution. 

I feel like, especially when Feyre was undercover spy mode at the Spring Court, and during the war in ACOWAR, there are so many Nessian scenes that are missed because we only have 1 pov. So I made this one up bc I feel like Nesta and Cassian were not just friendly and bantering and suddenly a love confession popped up at the end. I feel like there was definitely some progression, something, anything, so I’m over here trying to do that justice. And its my HC that if Feyre has freckles, Nesta might too.

Warnings: Mentions/ references of violence, war, assault and some aHEM pg-17 Nessian. 

Not smutty but like…not not smutty either ;)

Tagging (anyone on my tag list for A Court of Witches and Warriors): @bookstantrash @greerlunna @vasudharaghavan @cassianscool @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @sayosdreams @allilal @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan 

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed to my tag list!


Nesta did not leave Elain’s side, even after her crying had subsided. It was close to evening now, Nesta assumed, as she hadn’t left her sister’s tent for hours since the meeting with Grayson had imploded.

She likely would have killed Grayson for his filthy words to Elain. She had a half a mind to go back and finish the job anyways just by seeing how broken Elain had become, in a manner of minutes after seeing him. Any progress, any at all, had been obliterated by that foolish man she had loved so.

Still loved. Perhaps Elain was just as much a fool as her ex-fiance.

When her breathing evened out, Nesta quickly covered her up to the neck in the generous blankets they had been given, and opened the tent flap to leave.

And there he was, waiting for her.

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Hello lovelies,

I hope everyone’s been well and looking forward to a possibly better new year. Fingers crossed. I did not proofread again because I’m too pumped and really want to release this chapter. I hope you like it. I lowkey went through a rollercoaster of emotions writing it. So..warning.

Tagging: @bookstantrash @sayosdreams @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @cassianscool @courtofjurdan @allilal @greerlunna @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @moe8

Warnings: Mentions of violence, rape, suicidal thoughts

Chapter 9-Nesta

Cassian didn’t tell Nesta anything more as he flew them into the skies. She focused on the mountains around them and how the snow was glinting on the peaks from the sunlight’s radiance. The view was beautiful this high up, and Nesta understood then why Cassian loved to call it home. Nesta had not had a home in so long. Even the estate that they had eventually come to live in never felt like her own “home.” It was too big for her to enjoy. Too many halls, too many rooms, too many servants milling about. It reminded her of her childhood- her first home. When her mother had been alive, and everything was, well not perfect. But good. Normal. Simple. Alright.

Now, Nesta’s life was anything but normal and simple and alright. If someone had told her three years prior that one day she would be traveling in the arms of a Fae warrior with monstrously large wings and wicked hazel eyes to understand her powers, she would have lost her mind. And yet, here she was. 

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Can I just say how much I love the SIZE of the Nessian fandom? I think it’s so perfect, big enough that artists don’t feel like they are throwing their stories and drawings and such out with no response, but also not so massive that posts and things get lost in the mix. I know this might change when ACOSF comes out but for now I really love that I can so clearly identify top fandom contributors and we feel comfortable enough to throw out actually controversial opinions, and that we’ve almost all read the same like top 20 fanfics if that’s our thing. I just really enjoy it so thank you all for being here!!

84 notes

Not Leaving The Easily… - Nessian



Mornings were always the best. Cassian’s steady breathing against my ear never failed to fill me with longing and joy. Somehow this man made me realize that I was enough and that I was loved in this world that never seemed to care for me. Always in the mornings, I was reminded of this.

I tilted my head up to watch Cass’s peaceful expression, so lost in his dream that the slight movement didn’t stir him. I always thanked the days that I woke up first for this very reason. 

Reaching a hand up I pushed some stray strands of hair out of his face letting my fingers dance along his warm skin. On any other day, I would brush my hands along his torso and back leading up to his wings, but today didn’t seem like the time to do that. 

Instead, I slipped from beneath his arm the cold immediately attacking my skin. I thought about going back and waiting for my mate to wake up, however, I continue on the call of tea stronger than my need to wake Cass up. 

I button up one of Cass’s shirts slipping from the room. His clothes hang down to my knees so I don’t worry about bottoms. 

The cold kitchen tile bites into my feet as I heat up the water. I don’t know if it was due to the cold or the fact that I just woke up, but I didn’t even hear Cassian come up behind me until his arms were wrapped around my waist. 

His lips pressed against my neck causing a shiver to run up my spin. I reached a hand back to mess up his hair, his lips turning up in a smile as I did so. 

“Good morning,” I said quietly. 

“Morning,” He kissed my neck again. “You left me.”

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