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julemmaes · 2 years

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Cook For Me

Nessian week 2022, day two: food

A/N: two in a day??? I know, I'm going fucking insane. But it's okay.

This is for @letstakethedawn, my sweet and fucking beautiful wifey. I promised fluff and fluff I delivered with a heavy sprinkle of angst, but you can't fully blame that on me. The prompt was already fucked up.

@nessianweek

Word count: 3,039

Nesta knew the time had come where she needed to detach herself from Cassian, actually get dressed and drive him to the airport. The problem was, she really didn’t fucking want to.

They had spent the last five days locked up in their place, only leaving late in the afternoons to go join their friends and family at the bar or at Azriel’s townhouse and come back here before midnight.

Feyre had scolded them when they’d jokingly said they planned on staying home, fucking all day, for the last remaining week Cassian had in Prythian. The very detailed description of what Nesta’s youngest sister would have done to them if they didn’t show up at least for a few hours every night had them both rolling out of bed, showering and at Rita’s twice in a row. The other four nights Cassian had promised Nesta really nasty things to convince her to go to Azriel’s and share him with the others.

They’d had a pretty emotional night the day before, when instead of riding his bike back home, Cassian had had to leave it in his brother’s garage, for him to use while he was away for a year. Nesta thought she’d never really cared for that piece of metal, but she’d found herself shedding a few tears walking all the way home. She had tried to convince everyone—herself included—that it hadn’t only been because of the bike, but her boyfriend had done a pretty good job at reminding her how Bartholomew was a huge chunk of their story.

And for the most part, that was true.

It had been there for their first meeting, just outside Nesta’s workplace were Cassian had to deliver a pizza on her very first day there. For their first date, in which Nesta had been so excited about riding it that Cassian had proposed on the spot, making her laugh and letting him know that he’d have to sweat it. All the weekends gateways they’d been on to escape their families and life when it got too hard, they’d always taken his bike, never a car. Not a single time. And Cassian argued about how they should have in the now-far October, during their fifth anniversary, when the skies had opened on them like they had done something personal to the gods. They’d gotten in a pretty bad accident, risking falling off a cliff because of a mindless driver on the other lane.

After that event, Nesta hadn’t been that adamant in riding his bike that much, but she’d never blamed his MewMew.

Lying in his bed now, her brain still mush after the four orgasms her very caring and relentless boyfriend had given her, she was trying to ignore the ache in her chest.

Her head was resting against his pec and she could hear his heart beating while he gently brushed her hair from her face with his arm circling her shoulders. One of her legs was perched on his hips and with his other hand, he was tracing lines back and forth on her thigh, sending shivers down her spine.

She was going to miss having this.

At first she’d proposed seeing each other less and less while he still was here, to make the departure less painful. Maybe getting used to not seeing him every day, just twice or once a week, would have eased them in the long distance thing more easily, but Cassian had made the most horrified face she’d ever seen him make and had called her a thousand ways of insane.

Nesta was not regretting having spent the last ten days holed up in his room, not one bit, but she did regret having had a taste of what domestic life felt like with Cassian. She regretted giving herself completely to the man who was currently about to leave for the other side of the world for twelve whole months.

“I can hear the little mouse in your brain run on his wheel like he’s on some kind of acids.”

Cassian’s voice came out gravelly, sounding a lot like the voice of someone who’d spent the last hours whispering in her ear all such of filthy things.

Nesta groaned and turned her head to his chest, pressing her face into his skin, hoping she could become a part of him and he’d be forced to take her with him. She tried to talk and the sound came out muffled.

His laugh shook her body, “Didn’t hear a single thing, sorry.”

It took immense energy to lift her head, the muscle in her neck straining to look up, but the sight of him smiling sheepishly down at her was everything she needed and more. She couldn’t keep the smile from breaking on her lips and then she huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes.

“I just said,” her voice was so raspy she had to cough to free her airways. Cassian smirked, as if knowing the reason for her sore throat was him. “I just said, I don’t want you to leave.”

His smile fell a bit, turning into a sad grimace and he moved his hand up to the swell of her ass, lifting her up on his torso so that she was pressed even more onto him. His eyes darted down to her tits for a moment, but they went back to her face right away as he said, “I know, baby. I fucking hate this too.”

They stared at each other for a moment and then Cassian slapped her ass, hard, making her yelp in surprise. “Get up, babe. Gotta give you something.”

Nesta whined as he moved her off of him.

He was already out of bed when his words sunk in. She tensed starring at the ceiling.

“Cassian.”

He hummed.

“Cassian,” she repeated, trying to keep her calm. She got up on her elbows, watching as he frantically opened and closed all the drawers. This douche. “Cass, fucking christ. We’d said no goodbye gifts.”

He didn’t even glance her way as he rummaged through the only box that he hadn’t already mailed to Lunathion. “Well, sweetie, you should have known better. Ah!” He raised a hand to sky and the tiny package shone under the low light. It was sparkly and Nesta’s attention was piqued, but she was still annoyed that he’d gotten her something when they’d decided against it together.

He was smiling like a toddler on Christmas day and he trotted back to the bed, handing the small packet to her. Nesta took it reluctantly and was eyeing him weirdly. He had been the one to propose the no-gifts rule and it made her wonder what was so important that he went all the way and broke a promise of his own. It wasn’t like Cassian to back no something like this.

He smiled encouragingly, nodding to the present. “C’mon, open it!”

Nesta shook the thing, hoping to get a hint at what was inside, but Cassian smirked.

“You’re not gonna find out unless you open the damn thing, so just go with it.” He sat down next to her, placing a hand on her leg and stroking her tigh lovingly. “It took me so fucking much.”

Nesta’s eyes went wide, “You made this?”

“Why are you so surprised?” He laughed, “You haven’t even seen what it is yet, might literally be a shit cake with some mud and leaves on it.”

She shook her head, “You’re disgusting.”

Cassian shrugged, “I’m trying to make you hate me, so maybe you won’t miss me as much.”

Nesta looked at him with a frown.

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said in eight years of relationship.”

“Yeah like not living with each other on my last week here.” He fired back, looking pointedly at her.

Nesta tilted her head, smacking her lips, still turning the sparkly gift in her hands.

“Fair.”

“Just open the fucking thing, Nes.”

“So bossy.”

“That’s how you like me.”

She smiled at that and tore open the paper, being careful not to get the silver glitter all over the sheets.

Something fell on her ankle and when she looked down in between them, the smallest book she’d ever seen sat there.

The cover was a very light blue, silver and golden intricate lines decorated the spine and on the front a sinuous theatre mask had been drawn with delicate brushes. Some white flowers adorned the outline and finally, at the very bottom of the cover, written in a fine line calligraphy, there were just three words.

Cook for me.

This was definitely handmade, but Cassian couldn’t have had anything to do with the drawings and decorations. She just knew he hadn’t meant this when he’d said he’d done it himself.

“This is beautiful, Cass.” She whispered, passing the tip of her finger over the complex binding.

Nesta glanced his way and he was looking straight at her, eyeing her reaction to the gift. He wore an embarassed smile and it was so not-Cassian that she felt the impulse to open the book, feeling like that wasn’t what he’d put so much of himself into.

She delicately turned the paper and, to her surprise, his writing covered the whole page.

She only skimmed the words, wanting to see if there were more, but when she went to flick the rest of the book, his huge hand covered the book completely.

Nesta looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“You can’t read it right now.”

Her mouth gaped.

He laughed.

“I knew you were gonna hate me for this, but I swear it’s romantic once you have all the info.”

Nesta tried to get a glimpse of whatever was written on it, her interested in it now a thousand times stronger, but his fingers shut and she couldn’t see anything.

She breathed in through her nostrils, “What is it, then, if not a book I can read?”

Cassian scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and hoisting them both up, leaning on the headboard a few seconds later.

Nesta loved it when he manhandled her that way.

She rested her head against his shoulders and let him took the book from her hands as they got comfortable.

He closed it and showed her the cover once more. The book looked even smaller in his hand.

When he spoke, his lips brushed against her ear and she shivered, gripping his thigh, stopping the urge to grind her ass against his crotch.

“I wrote in it every single day for the past six months. Since I got the confirmation I’d be going.” He started, “I know we can make it, I know we’ll get over this year quicker than we think, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy for either of us.”

Nesta nodded and turned her head just enough that their lips brushed. He closed his eyes and brought a hand to her jaw, tilting her head up so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue licked just briefly her upper lip and then he left a peck on the tip of her nose.

“You’re gonna have to read one page per day. No cheating. I’ll find out if you did. And on the first page there’s a link.”

He cracked the book open so fast Nesta gasped, clutching his wrists, stopping him from breaking the delicate needlework.

“Don’t be such a brute.” She said.

Cassian didn’t give her an ounce of attention, “I put a link here,” he passed his thumb over the letters, “I can send it to you if you don’t want to copy it letter by letter. It will lead you to a folder.”

“A folder?”

“In it there are around a hundred videos of me.” He confessed.

Nesta perched up at that and turned completely towards him, a raised brow. “Did you film yourself jerking off a hundred times for me to see you every day?”

Cassian made a shook face and mouthed to her what the fuck before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He huffed out a laugh and then with the cutest grin said, “No, babe, I did not.”

She shrugged like it was nothing, “So what are you doing in these videos?”

His cheeks turned the slightest red, “I’m cooking.”

Nesta gawked at him.

“And the notes…” he scratched the back of his head and she found it endearing that he still got this awkward around her, even after so many years. “I- They’re kinda important. Not random notes. They like tiny love letters.”

She was speechless.

He’d written her more than a hundred letters.

He’d taken the time and put the effort in something she would treasure for the rest of their lives.

Cassian took her silence as an invitation to keep talking.

“I know it’s gonna be hard for us to not be around each other all day long. And there will probably be days where we don’t hear from the other, so I wanted you to have this.”

He thrust the book towards her and Nesta glanced down at it, her sight going blur.

“I’m obviously going to try my hardest to avoid not texting you or calling you for a whole ass day, but I don’t want you not having anything from me for that long in case it happens and I couldn’t come up with something better, or I’d have-”

At this point, he was just blabbering random things, so Nesta raised her head and let him see the tears streaking down her face.

Cassian’s face scrunched up in a teary grimace too and he opened his arms wide for her to jump right into them. She sobbed into his chest, the weight of the day hitting her like a brick wall, and she let herself be lulled as he ran his hand through her hair and told her just how much he loved her.

It wasn’t until both their phones went off that they realised the time to leave for the airport had come.

Nesta got up, her head feeling like someone had poured lead into it, and wiped her cheeks, noticing only then that Cassian had been silently crying too. He smiled through the tears at her, no real happiness behind one of the things she loved the most about him, and he lifted a hand to her face, cradling her cheek kindly.

They looked each other in the eye for a beat and then they started getting ready.

She wasn’t sure how she was gonna sleep in this bedroom without him snoring softly next to her, holding her tight through the night, but she would have to manage on her own, one way or the other.

They drove to the Velaris Airport in complete silence, Cassian’s hand never leaving Nesta’s across the console and right before getting out of the car, they shared one last glance, breaking into tears once again, laughing right after for the other’s reaction.

They had promised themselves they would spend just a few minutes in front of the security controls, saying their goodbyes at home, in their bubble, but right then, holding onto each other like they were never to be met again, Nesta found it hard to let go.

Cassian was gripping her like he never had before and she jerked when he whispered in her ear. “Did you bring it with you?”

Knowing he was referring to the book, she just nodded. He didn’t need to know she’d take it everywhere she’d go from now on.

“Good, because the first letter is for when you’re alone after leaving me here. You can read it in the car.”

She didn’t care.

She didn’t wanna leave him.

Cassian’s breath trembled as he tightened his grip on her. “Babe, I…” he sniffed, “I really need to go now.”

Nesta shook her head. No.

“Yes,” he laughed humorlessly. He tried to take a step back and she followed, taking one forward. “Okay,” he murmured in her hair, “one more minute.”

So they stood there, surrounded by people running to their gates or their loved ones, waiting to get back home or start a whole new chapter of their life completely. Cassian was about to join them. Nesta would be going home by herself. And then the tragedy would begin.

They kissed under the flickering lights of the airport and finally, as they both kept on shedding tears, they parted and Nesta waited until she couldn’t see him anymore beyond the gates and only then did she walk away.

She felt as if she’d just lost a limb.

She knew that feeling wouldn’t last forever, but the wound was just being torn in her heart in the moment and she didn’t care who saw her violently sobbing, trying to contain her pain as she made her way to the parking lots.

The second she got in her car, she didn’t hesitate and took the book from her bag.

She wiped her eyes, hoping it would help with the blurring somehow, but it only got worse. So she waited for the crying to stop.

Once it became clear that she couldn’t, she cursed and opened it anyway, trying to read throw the tears.

Hey sweetheart. I know you’re crying right now, I'm sure I'll be doing the same, so don't worry. It's tearing my soul apart not being there with you right now, but remember that I love you and that I'm just a phone call away. It's only been a few minutes and I already miss you terribly. I love you. I love you. I'll call you as soon as I land.

I love you, again.

Today’s video was him cooking simple chocolate chips pancakes. Her favourite.

Nesta read it and reread it a million times, and watched the video just as much, feeling as if her lungs couldn’t get in enough air. But she realised something as she drove home.

Cassian had given her something to look forward to every day, till the day he came back to her.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed dm me or send me an ask)

@kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @wintergilmore3 @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @gwynethhberdara @nahthanks @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @perseusannabeth @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @bookstantrash @imagine-me @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp @dealingdifferentdevils @moodymelanist @live-the-fangirl-life @flora-shadowshine @gabtapia @meridainthedisneyland @nessianforlife @superspiritfestival @rhysandswingspan @a-court-of-milkandhoney @mariamuses @sv0430 @duskandstarlight @dread3r @simpingfornestaarcheron

#nessianweek2022 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #fluff #angst

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acomaflove · 5 years

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moodymelanist · 3 years

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my prompt for nessian week: college au nessian eye fucking across the tables in the library during exam week and having to relieve some exam stress in the stacks…

hehehe thank you for this ask, nonnie! tagging @arinbelle because she’s doing plenty of studying on her own this week 👀

this one is NSFW! @nessianweek

Nesta huffed as she tried to read her biology textbook for what felt like the thousandth time, the words refusing to lodge in her brain like she needed them to.

She was in the main library on campus studying for her upcoming midterm. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t even be in this stupid class, but she needed it as a general requirement even though she was a political science major. She’d waited too long to register and all the easy science classes had filled up, so she’d gotten stuck with this ridiculously hard class that she hated with every fiber of her being. It wasn’t like she was going to be a doctor, for fuck’s sake. Why did she need to know about ATP?

Sighing, she looked over at her boyfriend. He was an education major, which she thought was the purest thing ever, and he was studying for an upcoming midterm too. She couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked with his dark hair pulled back in a messy bun. A couple of loose strands curled around his face and she was struck by the urge to get up and run her hands through his thick hair — she knew just how lovely it felt underneath her fingers. Not as good as his hands felt running through her hair, but he’d get this look on his face when she played with his dark locks. And then suddenly they’d both be naked and she’d have to hold onto his hair for dear life while—

No, she told herself sternly. Don’t you dare go down that path when you need to learn about cells.

Nesta took a deep breath in an attempt to shove down her sudden horninees, but then Cassian looked up at her from across the table, and she was completely fucked.

“Nes,” he whispered, leaning over to tap her open textbook, “You should be studying.”

“I am studying,” she responded quietly. She didn’t take her eyes off him while she bit her lip, satisfied by the way his hazel eyes tracked the movement.

“You should be studying biology,” he told her. “You need a B on this midterm to pass the class.”

Nesta smirked at the opening he gave her. “We can go study biology right now if you want.”

“I definitely walked into that,” Cassian muttered. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them, but the sixth floor was practically deserted. “You have to be quiet, though.”

“I can do that,” she said softly, a thrill running through her as he motioned for her to get up. She walked over to his side of the table and sat down in his lap.

“Can you?” he asked. He slid his arms around her waist, one hand sneaking under her sweater while the other went between her legs.

She nodded emphatically and spread her legs a little wider so he had more room. He laughed softly before dipping his hand underneath her leggings, swearing under his breath as he felt how wet she already was.

“Someone’s excited,” he teased. She couldn’t help but let out a tiny moan as he traced a circle over her clit. “You have to be quiet or we’ll get caught.”

“I will,” Nesta promised, her voice breathy as Cassian moved his fingers even lower. She bit down on her lip as he pushed one inside her, then two.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” Cassian whispered into her ear. He slid his other hand under her bra to play with a nipple as he steadily pumped his fingers in and out of her.

She felt how hard he was underneath her and started rocking her hips, partly to tease him, but mostly to get his fingers even deeper inside her. She knew anyone could walk by and see them — see her — but the thought of getting caught only turned her on even more.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, speeding up his rhythm to match the pace of her hips. She gripped the table to support herself while she lost herself in the feeling of his hands on her. She didn’t care that she was in the library or that she was supposed to be studying for her test — all that mattered was her boyfriend’s hands making her feel like she was on fire. “Ride my fingers.”

“Cassian,” she whimpered. She wasn’t even sure what she was begging for at this point, but she knew he would give it to her. “Cassian, please—”

He nipped at her ear, something he knew how much she enjoyed. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Cassian moved his hand from under her sweater just in time to cover her mouth, keeping what would have been a ridiculously loud moan much quieter as she came around his fingers. She leaned all the way forward onto the table, shuddering and gasping for breath as her release barreled through her.

Nesta eventually came back down to Earth after a few minutes. She managed to catch her breath and sat up, looking over her shoulder to see her boyfriend looking at her with an incredibly smug look.

“I think that was a record,” he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes even though she privately agreed with him. “Nice teamwork.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she mumbled. She couldn’t even insult him properly considering how her brain felt like mush. “Come on, let’s get back to studying.”

He nodded, slowly pulling his fingers out of her. She felt almost empty without them, but he more than made up for it when he put them in his mouth and sucked. “You sure you don’t want to study some anatomy this time?”

#acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #anon asks #nessian prompts #moodymelanistwrites #day 5: alternate universe #⭐️

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talkfantasytome · 2 years

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I've Figured It Out...

Why I tend to prefer most of the ToG characters to the ACOTAR ones...

Because most of them are some-part Nesta or Cassian. 👀

Nesta

Manon: Is terrifying. Falls for a bit of a goofball. Is a witch.

Elide: Makes a terrifying warrior at least 2x her size a total puppy that is wrapped around her little finger. Also, we all know she's scary. In a non-physical way.

Lysandra: Is the general of the army's mate. Wraps a terrifying commander/warrior around her finger/paw. But can hold her own in battle, albeit as giant, fanged animals. And you cannot tell me Nesta wouldn't also love turning into the animals that terrify males if she could. Or that she wouldn't use it to freak out Cassian as Lysandra did with Aedion.

Nesryn: Woman of few words. Wraps a big, strong general around her finger. Can hold her own in battle. Becomes a queen empress.

Rowan: Is terrifying. Introverted. Sharp tongued. Earliest conversations with his mate involve him insulting her. Falls for a total goofball.

Lorcan: Is terrifying. Quiet. Not afraid to insult you.

Cassian

Aelin: Goofball. Falls for someone terrifying and sharp-tongued. Would absolutely adore Nesta.

Aedion: General of the army. Lovable idiot. Shoulder-length hair. Super broad. Great fighter. Complete simp. Makes bold statements. I could go on. If anyone is Cassian in ToG it's him (or, I guess, Cassian is Aedion?).

Lorcan: (Yes, he's both.) Massive. Literally. Incredible warrior. Simps for his girl like crazy and turns into mush around her. Will tear your head off if you lay a hand on her.

Sartaq: Literally falls in love with Nesryn before he even meets her. (You can't tell me Cassian wasn't intrigued at the idea of Nesta when he heard about her.) Also a warrior and a general. And big. And simps hard.

Ren: Tall. Broad-shouldered. Shoulder-length black hair. Hazel Brown eyes. Has a scar that slashes through his eyebrow and down his cheek. I'm convinced this is why people see Cassian with a scar in his eyebrow.

Fenrys: Goofball warrior. Hands down will be a hardcore simp when he finds his person.

I'm not saying it's perfect, and that they don't have traits similar to other ACOTAR characters. Nor that some of these traits aren't also seen in other ACOTAR characters. Nor that there isn't more to these characters, because there is. So much. Nor that it was purposeful and that these characters are all the same, because they're not and I think the characters in ToG, in general, are better developed. But, like, these are some of the things I love so much about Cassian and Nesta. And they're traits in soooo many of the ToG characters. And their relationships also ring closer to Nesta and Cassian's (or how it should've been/appeared in ACOWAR 👀). Perhaps once we get more relationships/closer looks into relationships, we'll see others being more similar to some in ToG. But, for now, it's basically all Nessian. Even Rowaelin, that I know should seem more like Feysand, feels 100x more like Nessian to me - Rowan = Nesta, Aelin = Cassian. It only could look like Feysand if you stick to genders (which is dumb), but even then I don't really see it.

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cupcakey00 · 3 years

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It’s Just Instinct, Pt. 2

hello, everyone! here’s part 2 of “It’s Just Instinct,” a super short Nessian fic! there will indeed be a part 3. Highkey don’t like this part nearlyyyyy as much as I did part 1, but still, I hope you enjoy :)

part 1

words: 3,321

warning: there is some foul language.

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Cassian couldn’t let go of Nesta no matter how hard he’d tried, couldn’t keep his hands off her. Not while she was injured. It was but a shallow cut, one a child’s mother would kiss and bandage before sending them off to continue playing, and yet he couldn’t stop the quiver in his hands as his fingertips traced the raised skin around the minor wound, his touch a sorrowful prayer against her skin, one that Cassian couldn’t begin to understand why Nesta would let him do after he’d failed her once again.

They sat in silence, Nesta atop the counter in their bathroom, Cassian standing between her legs. Nesta knew he needed time to think, to process his emotions before they could discuss. She was the same way. How she longed to speak with him, wished he’d let her in, but still she waited. She waited and she watched as he applied a healing salve and bandage to it as though her life was on the line, emotions turbulent across his face, with lips pursed one moment but not the next, eyebrows furrowed for one instant then smooth, eyes hard and then…well, Nesta couldn’t tell.

That was worrisome.

He finished dressing her wound, his hands resting in her lap, and still they were silent. Cassian could have burned holes through the bandage he was staring at from how angry he was, as though the bandages themselves caused her hurt, wronging her.

Breathing shakily, he let his hands trail gently to her hips up her sides, handling her with the sincerity one might cradle a porcelain doll, halting once he reached her waist. Nesta was expecting him to pick her up, so she leaned forward into his body, but Cassian tensed for a split second before returning what he thought was going to be an embrace.

Nesta could have wept from the gentleness in his movements, as though he was too afraid to breathe. She could feel his heart racing through his leathers, and still he hadn’t dared draw her too close.

In the past, Nesta would have been insulted by his actions. “I’m not a child,” she’d have snapped. “I’m not made of glass, Cassian,” she’d have said.

But over time, she gleaned that some days, he simply needed to hold her, needed her to stay close. She didn’t know why, but she knew that one day, he’d be ready to tell her, and when he was, he would. Eventually, Cassian would be able to tell her there were moments he wasn’t sure if this was real, or if he was living a dream where Nesta was a figment of his imagination. Sometimes he had to remind himself the war was over, not because it hurt him so personally, but because he couldn’t be sure Nesta was really alive, that she had truly made it out, or if his mind had conjured up her memory to keep him sane. There were periods where he couldn’t be sure if he was alive, or if he was in the hell he knew he was destined to go, that in some 300, or 400, or 5,000 years down the line, whatever cruel god traversed the underworld would reveal it all to be a lie, that he and Nesta had never really had that time at all. That the king of Hybern had killed them that day; that the ruler of Hell wanted not only to rip Cassian’s only true joy from him, but give him a sliver of the pain he’d caused thousands through bloodshed and loss over his 500-year lifetime.

Sometimes, Cassian didn’t know if that was the common sense speaking, or the guilt.

Maybe it was both.

Cassian knew he couldn’t go on like that forever, but still he could not say anything. He didn’t know how. Some days he was a bit quieter, a bit more reserved, and, when he’d hold her close, more tightly than usual, his eyes would burn with the need to blink, something he’d refrain from doing for fear he’d give in and she’d be gone, having never been there at all.

Nesta couldn’t take the pain and fear she felt through the bond. He held her there, head tucked into her neck, inhaling her scent, breathing soft whisps of air onto her skin. With his right hand splayed across her back, left hand in her hair keeping her head resting next to his, and her body pressed against him, her beating heart was a tattoo on Cassian’s chest. She was Cassian’s lifeline.

Nesta didn’t know what was wrong, but she felt deep within her soul that Cassian was barely holding on. He was suffocating although there was air, drowning despite not being submerged, dying without any wounds, and no longer could she wait. For this, for Cassian, she’d have to push, no matter how hard it’d hurt either of them.

She reached around, drawing his body even closer to her, and as she tightened her arms a bit more than usual, she felt him release a shaky breath, body relaxing but arms unrelenting.

She didn’t know that with this one action, she convinced Cassian this moment was real.

Nesta turned her head, peppering kisses to his temple until she felt his heart rate slow from its panicked staccato and his erratic breathing calm to the whisper of a baby’s breath. It could have been two minutes or 20 years, and still she would have held him. They had all the time in the world.

Eventually, Nesta drew her hands across his back up to his face, lifting his head. When he looked into her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed him sweetly, slowly, savoring the feeling of home.

“Cassian,” she started. “It’s more than just the mating bond, isn’t it?”

She was jumping right into it, Cassian realized with a jolt. No preamble, no introduction, nothing. His eyes widened and his breath held, the moment between them gone. He couldn’t maintain eye contact, so he stepped back and looked to the doorway.

Wordlessly, Nesta hopped from the counter and interlaced their fingers, leading the way to the den. She opted for their couch instead of the armchair, sitting next to him and released a shiver at the cold feel of the fabric on her skin. Cassian stood immediately and approached the fireplace to their left, a small part of him happy for the delay igniting the fire brought. Even though they had worked through Nesta’s trigger, he was still cautious about monitoring her body language. Trauma wasn’t always consistent, nor did it have to make sense. He knew that well enough.

Fire roaring next to them, Nesta’s body tensed such a minuscule amount that Cassian really shouldn’t have noticed, yet he did. He wanted to put it out, but he knew that’d only upset her. Instead he looked to her, facing the fire with her spine straight and chin lifted, eyes hardened as though she was in a battle of wits with her most formidable enemy.

“Scoot over,” Cassian forced out; he was tense. She did, making more room for him. He sat down and removed his boots, swinging one leg between the couch and Nesta so he could lean back, tugging her body to his chest, his arms around her, hands resting atop hers on her stomach. They lay together, fire going behind them, making the only sound in the room.

Nesta turned so her chest was touching his abdomen, laying the side of her head over his beating heart. She closed her eyes once Cassian’s hands began playing with a lock of the hair she let down once they reached home, reducing her to mush. She almost forgot why they were there.

“Cass,” she started, same as before. “We need to talk about this.”

Cassian’s hands stilled for a few seconds before resuming, going up to her scalp and massaging.

“I know.”

“It’s not just your instincts, is it?” She already knew the answer.

Cassian gulped. “Not always. Not– today. Sometimes it’s– it’s more. It’s worse. A lot of things.”

Nesta waited for him to continue. She was already pushing him as is. He wasn’t used to opening up. Cassian was the friend you went to when you needed advice, and not the other way around.

“You have to understand that my instincts, Nesta, they’re– they’re probably a bit worse than the average mated male’s. There’s the mating bond, but I’m also a warrior. Fighting is in my blood. I am the best living warrior in all of Prythian.” There was no pride in voice, he was simply stating a fact.

“I think that makes it worse. I’m not used to having rein myself in; the only time I’ve ever been even close to snapping is right before a battle, when my instincts are homing in for a fight. Add in the mating bond? Fuck, Nesta, some days I think it’d be better to lock us both in here than have to go outside.” Cassian couldn’t help wincing, but honestly, Nesta was surprised. She’d never thought about it, but it made sense. Fighting was his language, perhaps the one he knew best. To have to fight against it when for over 500 years it was a part of him? He was, perhaps quite literally, fighting a losing battle.

“And I’m working on it, I swear. I’m trying. You deserve better, you deserve someone who can not only treat you right, but protect you while respecting your autonomy, but fuck, Nesta, sometimes it’s just so fucking hard. I can’t fucking stand seeing you get hurt, and I can’t stand seeing the males or females look at you with that interest they’ve developed once they figured out you’d have killed them by now if you wanted to.” He was scowling, and sometime during his admission, his strong hands left her hair and formed fists. His knuckles were turning white.

Nesta couldn’t believe she was mated to a male like Cassian. With Tomas, the only other semi-serious relationship she’d had, he tried taking from her what she wouldn’t give, injuring her in the process until she’d managed to escape. She’d burned the torn dress to forget. Cassian, on the other hand, was killing himself inside to keep from overstepping, even when he felt she was in danger. Truly polar opposites. She was glad.

“Cassian, you’ve been doing well,” she said as she took hold of his hands, undoing the fists. “I know it’s been nearly impossible, but you’ve been doing it. Eventually, it’ll get easier. You’ll get accustomed to it.”

She didn’t understand, not really. “It’s not just– it’s not just that, Sweetheart. It’s the whole past. It’s the fact that I tried keeping you safe multiple times, and multiple times I failed. I failed to keep you from the Cauldron, I failed to keep you safe from the King of Hybern, Hell I almost lost you to Bryaxis. I have constantly failed you, Nesta. And I’m scared that one day, my failures will come to their final fruition and that’ll be it, you’ll be gone. Dead. Because I can’t keep you safe.”

She opened her mouth to speak but paused, feeling his trepidation through the bond. There was more. He hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. Instead, she rubbed across his knuckles, back and forth, feeling the ridges of each one, the dips that separated them.

“Sometimes I can’t tell if this is real.”

Nesta’s heart dropped.

“I can’t– I can’t tell if we made it out of the war. I can’t tell if you did, or if you’re a figment of my imagination that everyone goes along with or else the Commander of the Illyrian armies will go insane. They may hate me, but none can deny my skill. They need me.

“Sometimes I wait for the rug to be pulled beneath me, to find out I’m actually dead and that neither of us lived through the war with Hybern. That some cruel being in the Underworld wanted to give me a taste of what could have been before ripping it from me, leaving me mourning memories I never had – memories with you.”

Tears pricked Nesta’s eyes, and at the scent of their salt, Cassian lifted Nesta’s head so her chin was resting on his chest, staring deeply into his eyes. Nesta hadn’t seen so much sorrow in them since that moment on the battlefield before he’d kissed her, ready to die in each other’s arms.

“Sometimes I wait to wake up from what I can only describe as a dream.”

His voice wavered.

“My biggest fear, Nesta, is not that I can’t keep you safe. My biggest fear is that you never made it out alive for me to keep you safe to begin with.”

Finally her tears fell, throat constricted so tight it hurt. She couldn’t speak. Of all the things he could have said, this felt like the worst. It was one thing to fear for her safety, to war with his instincts to protect at whatever cost.

It was another to not know if these instincts were in vain.

“And I– I know it makes no sense. If you were a figment of my imagination, there’s no way everyone would go along with it, to act like you were alive, nor do I think Rhysand or Azriel would let me live my life like that. And it– it feels too real to be a dream. But sometimes I just can’t tell. I can’t tell if it’s a dream, or if it’s Hell. I don’t think the heavens would welcome me.”

Nesta didn’t know if she should be sad or angry. There was a lot to unpack.

“So when you get hurt, and I’m ready to maim and kill, that’s instinct. That’s instinct, that’s love, that’s being a warrior. But back in there, in the bathroom, it was more. It was my failure to protect you. It’s that I always seem to fail, and I wonder if my failure on the battlefield left you dead for a second, more permanent time. The Cauldron killed you once, and sometimes I’m not sure if the King of Hybern then did too. Do you hear what they say about me, Nesta? They think me similar to Enalius. What utter fools. They don’t even realize they insult him by comparing us.”

“Cassian,” Nesta spoke with resolve. Now she really was angry, although her eyes were rimmed with red. “You haven’t failed me, you big oaf.” Cassian frowned at that.

“You did everything you could. You risked your life, your wings to lead the King of Hybern away from me, and you did. It’s not your fault we almost died. You saved me. I would’ve been dead at the hands of Hybern if you hadn’t stepped in.”

He was unconvinced.

“Cassian,” she now whispered imploringly, “you are enough. I love you, and you are worthy.” Her voice rose, symphonious preaching to Cassian or the heavens, he couldn’t tell.

“You deserve peace and love and happiness; you deserve a life where you don’t blame yourself for things that were out of your control. You tried your hardest, and Love I know it hurts but you need to let go.” She grasped his hands tightly as his eyes shone with tears.

“Forgive yourself. Stop regretting the past. There’s nothing you can do to change it. All you can do is enjoy the present and dream about the future.”

She rested her forehead against his, eyes closed as she spoke impassionedly, hands caressing his cheeks. She couldn’t see Cassian’s wide eyes, flooded with childlike wonder at the goddess who knelt before him.

“If you won’t forgive yourself for your sake,” she whispered, “then forgive yourself for mine, because I love you and I want you to be happy. You make me happy, Cassian. After all the Cauldron put me through, it was worth it, because it gave me you. It gave us time that we’d never have without it. We have eternity together, Cassian. I can’t convince you that it’s real, but I ask that even if you think it��s not, you enjoy it.” Though her voice was nearly inaudible, he heard every word, could see the tears threatening to spill from her closed eyes. Their lips grazed as she spoke. She was so close.

“If you can’t yet accept this isn’t a dream, then in the meantime, let it be the best one you’ve ever had. Let yourself enjoy these moments together, because if you don’t, one day you’ll realize all of this is real, and you’ll regret having held yourself back.”

Her eyes opened and immediately narrowed.

“Now what the fuck was that about going to Hell?”

Cassian threw his head back and burst out laughing.

He couldn’t help it; it was so unexpected. One second she was praising him, blessing him with the reassurance he seemed to need more often than not but wouldn’t deign to ask for, and the next she was chastising him.

“Sweetheart,” he began, “you don’t kill the amount I have and get welcomed by the gods with open arms,” he admitted. She rolled her eyes and huffed. Clearly she lacked the patience for his stupidity.

“Cassian, you have a fucking warrior-god. Do you think Enalius is in Hell right now?”

…Cassian supposed not.

“And there are literally death gods. Are they in Hell right now?”

“Sweetheart, no matter what you say in bed, you can’t keep comparing me to gods right now. That’s borderline blasphemous.” The cheeky bastard. Never mind that none of them could be completely sure he wasn’t descended from Enalius after all.

Now she just glared.

Cassian cleared his throat, “Point taken.”

She scowled for a moment longer before her eyes softened.

“I know that we’ve been over this before. That you are enough, you are worthy, but Cassian, you need to tell me when you’re feeling less than. You need to talk to me.” A hand reached up to stroke his cheek again as she straddled him.

“You’ve helped me so much, Cass. I don’t think I’d be here right now if it wasn’t for you.” At this, he flinched. He couldn’t imagine a life without Nesta, couldn’t imagine the pain she’d been through after the war. By the time they mated, she was healthier, happy. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he could’ve lived if he felt the pain his Nesta had gone through.

But, like a phoenix, she arose from her ashes, silver flames licking her skin, her fingertips, her hair. Over the past few months she spent with him in Illyria, she became one with herself. Cassian didn’t think he knew anyone stronger.

The gods had nothing on Nesta. That, Cassian did know.

“Cass, I’m not going to lie to you, nor do I want you to lie to yourself. You’ve caused people pain, that you know, but neither of us are innocent. Both of us have hurt people, have hurt ourselves. Both of us have been held prisoners of our minds for far too long.”

She had an impossibly gentle aura around her, so at ease.

“All we can do is accept it and promise not to let the bad days win.”

Cassian didn’t think it was possible to love someone so fucking much.

Never daring to break eye contact, he grasped one of her hands in his, interlacing their fingers, while using his other to grab her free one, leaving a soft kiss atop each knuckle.

Then he opened her palm and sucked on the tip of her index finger.

“Cassian!” she admonished, blush flushing to the swell of her breasts.

He could only laugh.

Drawing her in for a kiss, one hand on her waist, the other fisted in her hair, he knew he wasn’t fine yet. Neither of them were, but eventually, they’d get there.

Together.

______________________________________________________________

AAAAAAH I hope you enjoyed!!! I made myself cry while writing this LMAOOOO. I’m excited for part 3!! we’ll finally see what really happens when Cassian can’t hold back...

tag list: @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @queenofbloodshed @thewayshedreamed @bookstantrash @allilal @illyrianshadowhunter @rainbowcheetah512 @skychild29

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian

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featherymalignancy · 3 years

Note

do you have any really good acotar smut stories because i really can’t keep reading umsasane every day😭😭

That is so cute, thank you! I assure you that there is a lot of smut in the next In Vino chapter as well. So this is by no means a comprehensive list and I have yet to have coffee today so my brain is mush , so I’m hoping more people will jump in with recs!

I am obsessed with @mightymorphingayagenda just like in general, but she writes THE smuttiest Nessian shit you could ever read me it’s divine. Just all around, she’s an incredible writer and wickedly funny and kind and yeah I have a huge crush on her and her talent basically

@lady-therion also writes smuts and it’s very decadent and lovely. Also an incredible writer and an achingly lovely individuals.

There is also smut in Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots but that story is technically a spoiler for In Vino, so if you don’t want to kil ahead on the timeline, that’s fair.

If anyone else has recs, please add them!

#feathery recommends #nessian #elriel #acotar smut

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vidalinav · 6 years

Text

Come Back to the Sea (1)

My contribution to #mermay, because I am not artistic in any form except writing. It’s also chapter 1 of a way longer fic that I have written a lot of. Stay tuned!

Summary: Nessian AU loosely-based on the Little Mermaid

Rated: T

Words: ~3200

Theme song by Ina Wroldsen, “Sea”

“She is a mermaid, but approach her with caution. Her mind swims at a depth most would drown in.” -J Iron Word

“There is a tale we are told as young sailors, about three sisters who grow up separated from each other. As babies, they cry and cry and cry, so that, maybe, someone will hear them and reunite them once more. But they’re never heard by anyone.

It is said that only the cauldron heard their cries that day and scorned the world for hurting her children. She sent hatred and plagues, poisoned people’s hearts, and still no one listened. It only fueled her rage.

Consumed with anger, The cauldron promised, that one day, when the air was clear, the skies dark and grey, when the earth shook, and the sea trembled, the world would finally hear her children’s cries.

And only the three sisters would be able to save them all from the cauldron’s wrath.”

They used to tell her tales about the fear and death that waited above the surface. That the rays of sunlight glittering in the water enslaved anyone who looked for too long, that the light would only blind the curious. They used to tell her of the greed that consumed those who walked on land; the selfishness and anger that shot out of their mouths like they breathed fire. For they did breathe fire and burned anyone who stood in their way.

When she was especially curious, they would whisper stories in her ear― of people with no names or faces littering the world with the bodies of the men they hated. Humans were malicious creatures who’d kill before they even knew why. Maybe they didn’t need a reason.

Humans liked the taste of their flesh, they said, they liked their flesh and their gold. How humans craved their priceless scales and their ruby hearts.

Maybe that’s why they trapped her, under the sea. To keep those humans, monsters, far away from her.

She sometimes wondered if it was harder keeping her away from them.

We built these walls for you, they’d say.

They hadn’t given her freedom. Or choice. Or power. They had only given her protection, from invisible nets that yearned to take her and imaginary people ready to eat into her with their claws and teeth.

But, it never stopped her from wondering― about the knowledge that consumed them all. If they could have locked her in a tower, they probably would have, because she would never stay behind those city walls. Her curiosity was an urge so bitter and cruel that she could not be trapped in the deep depths of indigo and night.

It’s why she often found herself close to shallow waters, where the rocks met the sea. The jagged ends of stone sharp against her fingertips. A bit more pressure and she’d be surrounded by fish, seaweed, and the cerulean that pulsed beneath her skin. A person of her status should never bleed, she could hear them chastise. But, there was a reason this place was her favorite.

Nesta wasn’t supposed to be here, she wasn’t supposed to go out of the castle walls, or out of the city drenched in sea fire and crystals. All merpeople were forbidden here, but like the many walls they built to keep her in, it had yet to stop her.

They will kill you, they shouted. They will free me, she roared.

In some ways the humans did. They offered her another world, another life, another body that was not her own. One that could dance, and write, and read, and go. Anywhere, that wasn’t down below and far out of reach. If Nesta wanted to know about freedom, she needed only to swim a little farther than her brethren allowed.

Like the many stories they told her, her exploration into the forbidden had started with a book. One day, when she had run far faster than the guards chasing after her, she had a glimpse of the fragmented pages sinking down and down, further into the abyss. Nesta had never seen one, didn’t even know how to read one, but it called to her like a dream. She swam to it, tried to collect its fragile binding and its delicate petals. They only cascaded around her, a whirlpool of possibilities.

When she examined the pages she captured, soaked with salt and sea, the ink ran like blood in her hands, and the pages crumbled to dust.

Nesta was fond of the sea, it had been her constant companion since the day she was born. It had been the only family she needed and the only family she had. But she resented the water that day, for what it took from her. What it kept from her.

She had released the paper in defeat and watched it drift down below into the darkness that hummed so loud she covered her ears.

Nesta never swam below that great abyss, though it called to her lovingly, whispered her name like a story she had always wanted to hear. But as there were tales about the dangerous, unburdened humans, there were stories about the deep— a trench so dark and menacing that not even the merfolk could spare them the horrors.

She took one look at the darkness, could see nothing beyond the black inky tendrils, and forgot about the book completely. She might have lost many treasures to her fear, and though she chose never to believe in the tales that her nursemaids sang to her, she couldn’t ignore the fear of being sucked in to never return. She had been trapped in many places, had grown up in cages far too small, she would not willingly choose to be subjugated again.

But she often found herself wandering to the place where the waves crashed against stone and the great abyss whispered her name.

She found many things there, trinkets and bobbles, and color. She’d imagine the world with the items, how the cloth could be wrapped around her or the string could tie back her hair. How the land could be much better by simple inventions and handiwork. It fascinated her completely.

She kept it all a secret. No one would ever find out, about the treasures she hid past the palace walls. There was only so many rules she could break, before they decided there wasn’t enough.

This time was no different than any of the other times. Except the water was a little warmer, she noted. The deep a little quieter, the trench a little less frightening. The whole ocean was calm, patient even, as it seemed to be waiting.

Nesta waited with it—for the metal sticks with its tiny prongs and the wet paper that turned to mush, floating through the water like she imagined specks of dust in the sky. But nothing glided down the sea. Even the fish swimming around her seemed to wait patiently for the world to collapse.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of something she had never seen before, not in these waters that were deep enough to scare the meridian.

Something glittered, she watched it swim across the waters. The object blinked like unsuspecting eyes. It wasn’t the sunlight though some part of her yearned to feel it. When she put her hand through it, the dot centered on her palm. Her gaze followed the trail to the surface.

The light called to her, entranced some innate part of her that wanted to know. There were many things she wasn’t allowed to do, many things they kept her away from, but she yearned to know everything. As much as it would take to live.

Nesta was so focused on following the light, she never even noticed the fish swimming away, pushing and shoving their way past her. She never even noticed the net.

It enclosed around her slowly, and she pushed around its webbed lies and the school still fighting against their fate. She thrashed and kicked and screamed and nothing budged, Nesta only watched as the trench got darker and farther away, only watched the trench watching her with its obsidian eyes and shallow heart. She swore she could hear it cry out her name.

She stared at it, reaching out as if it would take hold of her hand and pull. She wouldn’t stop fighting the net, even as the abyss did not come to her aid. The fish seemed to wail, but their eyes told her they had already given up. Nesta wondered if they thought she should do the same. But, Nesta would never stop fighting for her freedom.

She screamed, urging the water to help her unravel the net, and nothing. It remained calm around her as she wailed, as she pushed, as her heard surfaced above water, as it became hard to breathe when the water rushed out of her lungs. It scorned her very being in its refusal to help. In that moment, she hated the sea for what it did to her.

But, the water did not protect her.

Nesta looked through the webbing and imagined herself soaring through a sea of clouds and mist, a place where griffins or dragons would grab her with sharp talons and take her far away. A princess and a prisoner.

Being above the water had been exciting to dream as a child, frightening to live as she waited for the string to sever and the rope to snap. Dangling above the sea made her wish she had wings instead of a tail. Though it wouldn’t have helped her either when she was captured in a net.

It wasn’t unusual for her to dream of other bodies when she felt trapped by her own; it wasn’t unreasonable as she hung above the precipice. But every time she thought of another life, another body, another name, she could never see herself without some sort of cage, no matter how pretty that cage turned out to be.

She grasped the rope and yanked. As it did not budge in the water, it did not budge in the sky. She tried clawing at it with her teeth—her canines sharp against the steady material. The rope did not break. All those times Nesta dreamed, she didn’t expect to yearn for the deep or wish that someone would help her. She hated the ocean even more for that.

She swished back and forth, knotting the rope between her fingers. In the distance she could hear bellowing whistles and thundering footsteps. Nesta was almost furious that the net that had taken her was now her only safety measure.

“Captain! I think we’ve got something,” she could hear a man yell through the fog. Young if she were to guess, though she had nothing to compare it to.

She looked around, searching for pairs of legs and hideous faces. Monsters that hid their fury in their eyes. She grasped at the webbing as it jerked forward. Nesta resisted the urge to hide behind silver scales.

“Woah, boys, steady. Lower the net!” Another called, the voice rougher than the other had been, stronger perhaps. Someone more forceful.

In time with his words, the net seemed to lower. The mist cleared a path for her and her innocent gaze. Her body jerked back and forth, but she held on, closing her eyes and pretending it was all a dream. It was only a story.

Her head felt like it was in a bubble and it only popped when the net lowered. Her back ached from the brunt force of the wood. She splashed around the like poor fish gasping for water. Her face hot, the air around her stale and hard. Her chest beat fast, her body convulsing from the pressure.

Sparks of white light danced in her irises. Nesta could feel the earth move beneath her, but it was not her friend. This world seemed to laugh at her, mock her for ever believing she could surpass her birthright.

Nesta heard gasps between bouts of motion sickness. She imagined them surrounding her, sharks intimidating their prey. The rough tune of words made her grasp her tail closer to her body. If she didn’t turn, she couldn’t see them. If she couldn’t see them, they didn’t exist.

This time she was the one telling lies.

“Look what we have here.” He said at last, tapping his foot, urging her to dance to the rhythm. Only then did she look up at his monstrosity.

His face was trapped between young boy and old man. His cheeks were round and red, but the rest of his skin crinkled as his face moved.

Nesta couldn’t really tell his age. Mer-people tended to grow rapidly and rarely did they ever age past what humans deemed standard adulthood. She had met many people who were over 500 years old and rarely did they ever look a day past her own age.

This man however looked both eternal and damned. Like the bitter air had sucked his youth away and replaced it with trouble and deceit. She looked past his gruesome smile and wondered if he too had teeth that extended into sharp points.

He was short and stout with long tendrils of red hair sprouting from the lower half of his face. As he talked, though Nesta could only make up most of his words, she recognized the deep, scratchy tone. She watched him as wet drops of saliva splattered past his mouth and into his beard.

“Release the net.” He demanded, jutting his chin towards her. The man he referred to, stepped in front of him, claiming his position of inferiority.

The man examined her with the crazy, bloodshot eyes. He swayed along, grasping the rope and yanking her tail with it, untangling it from her form. She gasped at the pain, but he merely smiled, fascinated by the noises she made.

This man wasn’t the only one who looked at her like that. She briefly wondered if perhaps they looked at all females like that. Like animals ready to slaughter and maim and control.

They stared at her like they had found gold. She was their treasure.

Nesta was said to be beautiful, even in comparison to gems and pearls. That’s why her people must have loved her so. Her tail glittered like emeralds, her body gleamed like iridescent pearls. Where most merfolk had crustacean shells woven into their skull, she had shells in every color known to coral. Where they had bottomless blue eyes, she had eyes the color of sea glass. They had told stories about her beauty, and yet caged her down below.

She almost wished they had done a better job.

As she looked around, past their hungry gazes, she perused the interior of the ship. It was not what she expected when she had found wooden boards sinking throughout the water. This ship was gangly and old. The wood smelled rotten, and the men smelled worse.

“The king would pay beautifully for her; this whole ship will be swimming in gold.”

The man she imagined was the captain laughed. Little bumps appeared on her flesh as she felt the madness make a way up her body.

“Bind her and take her below deck.”

The fear twisted a fist in her spine, and she wished she had listened to their idiotic rumors and legends. A thought that made her angry, if only because she was trapped in another set of lies and truths. When they had told her those stories, when they made her want to climb out of her own skin, she should have paid more attention. There must have been some ways these humans could be demolished, like the dust they would become.

Her hatred of them was stronger than her fear.

“Hey Newbie! Tie her up.” He chuckled under his breath, “Under Captain’s orders.”

Most of the group kept their eyes locked on her, though they parted to let this man through. He was larger than the others, she noted. Nesta briefly wondered why they seemed to treat him as the inferior, when he looked like he could kill them all.

His black hair curled around his face and his skin glowed with the sun. She supposed he was marginally cleaner than the rest of them.

The man looked at the man with the rope, thought nothing of it until he looked at her, curled up in the middle of the brigade. Nesta couldn’t imagine how she must have looked, but she held onto herself tighter. He grabbed the rope but snatched a piece of cloth from one of the barrels.

The man came towards her, held up his hands as he approached. Her eyes stayed wide and assessing. This human was not going to touch her without losing his fingers, like she had lost her will. But he only held up the large cloth. It was thick, and he seemed to think she was in desperate need.

She was born cold-blooded.

Nesta stared into his eyes, the color she imagined the water would look like when the sun touched the sea. They darkened under her scrutiny, his brows furrowing. He tried reaching out and placing the cloth across her body. She braced herself for the unwanted touch. But the captain slapped the blanket out of his hand, merely staring at her chest.

“She’s a fish, not a human.”

His eyes never left hers and his expression never changed. He was as mysterious as that great abyss they all feared, Nesta wondered if she should fear him. She couldn’t picture humans being anything other than monsters.

He grabbed her arms and tightly wound the rope along the grooves of her wrists, never paying attention to the fear or anger that emanated from her. He didn’t care at all. He was just like the other two-legged crazed humans, just like them in a multitude of ways.

He yanked the cloth off the floor and stepped away. He didn’t look back once. They’d drag her, she supposed, to another cage.

They had told her many stories. One’s that she chose to cherish and ones that she chose to laugh at. About people who came and went on missions to search the great below, where gold was said to be buried under. Nesta had never seen gold outside of the city walls, or where the specks of human filth filtered the water.

But now as she stared at all of them, the men who made her teeth clench, she wondered if maybe she was the treasure they tried to hide—why they built those alabaster walls and pearl encrusted gates and those dreaded, dreaded rules.

There were other stories, too. Of treasures being cursed to those that claimed it. Greed would lead humans to their own demise.

They grabbed her arms, grabbed her tail, and hoisted her across the ship.

She thrashed, kicking and screaming. Because if she was going to be taken like some treasure they had dug up from the sand and sea, she would make them wish they had never cast their net.

Author’s Note:

The more and more I write, I learn that I am a complete perfectionist and it’s terrible. Took me two weeks to write this one chapter because it wasn’t ever good enough to me and every time I thought that I wanted to quit. But I’m no quitter and I actually really planned this story out, and I’ve written a ton of it already. Editing it just sucks, cause again perfectionist.

Anyways I hope you like. I’m working on more plot based stories now instead of one-shots, since I want to improve on this skill as a writer. Let me know if you liked this fic or the concept. Reading comments doesn’t really motivate me to write, I just like writing, but it makes me happy to see all the same. And I encourage all of you to let any author who wrote something you like to let them know even if it’s not me (shrugs).

I value and cherish your comments, and I’m sure all fanfic writers feel the same about that.

Long note over :D

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acofas #acowar #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta

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