#nessian

[dudasamiles-blog]

his wings were made for war. his arms were made for her

[luciensdefenseattorney]

I doubt anyone in this fandom has an inside source, no matter who you are or who you ship💀

This nonsense has to stop😭

[torchwood-99]

Will Nessian Improve in the Next Book

It will get worse (not SJM's Intent)

It will get worse (SJM's Intent)

It will stay exactly the same

Not as obviously problematic, due to lack of focus

Minor/Moderate Improvement, ACOSF/HOFAS Issues unaddressed

Minor/Moderate Improvement, ACOSF/HOFAS Issues Adressed

Significant Improvement, ACOSF/HOFAS Issues Unaddressed

Significant Improvement, ACOSF/HOFAS Issues Addressed

Voting ended on2h

[gardenofsight]

Here’s your unfriendly reminder to shut the hell up about Nesta and Cassian not being real mates and that her true mate is Eris or a character that died in Crescent City that was in love with someone else (trying not to be spoilery right out of the gate here for anyone who has not read CC)

How many times does SJM need to say that they ARE endgame?

That nature picked right for them? That they’re perfect mates?

Nesta is not ending up with Eris or Cormac.

Her “love story” is done. She is with Cassian.

No, Elucien is not the red herring to Nessian being the rejected mates.

I will not be discussing further. Y’all are getting so annoying with this.

And while we’re at it, Bryceriel isn’t happening either. She has laughed at the theory that Hunt and Bryce are not endgame 3x in interviews. Exit stage left. Bye.

[chelseamorninggirl]

Art by the amazing @janearts

And we're back with another fic (and another incredible artwork by Jane). I just had to, because the idea of Cassian sporting a mustache would not let me go, and when the amazing @janearts drew one in a blue-green tartan (wink wink), I HAD to. So, enjoy a modern au cabin fic, with this lovely visual, full of my favorite tropes. Expect shenanigans, arguing, sexual tension, Nessian being dumb. All of the good stuff! Enjoy!

The Other Side Of The Door

Rating: E

Chapter: 1/?

Word count: 6,070

Relationship: Nesta Archeron/Cassian

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Snippet below the cut

The sun bleeds orange through the pines when Nesta finally finds what she hopes might be the right road. By then all she has are Feyre’s directions, scrawled in purple gel pen on the back of a Starbucks cup sleeve, because her sister apparently still believes in whimsy even when Nesta feels like her world is ending. The GPS gave up somewhere past the state line, leaving her squinting at the looping handwriting, holding the sleeve at different angles to read the impossible combination of brown and shiny purple in better light, the overwhelming urge to murder Feyre growing stronger by the minute.

Left where the asphalt ends. Then it gets tricky.

Tricky had been an understatement. The roads have deteriorated from highway to the scenery route to something that barely qualifies as maintained.

Right at the boulder that looks like a sleeping bear. If you hit the creek, you’ve gone too far and you’ll have to return until there’s a fork in the road.

The drive was supposed to take five hours, but it’s taken her almost the entire day. Not even her bout of insomnia could drag her out of bed early enough to beat morning traffic. She hasn’t been able to do much of anything efficiently, truly, ever since the funeral three weeks ago. She’s also not used to driving long distances alone. She hasn’t needed to, living in a city where everything is a subway ride away. And on the rare occasion that she did embark on such an undertaking, she never used to go alone. Her father would come with her on trips like this, before things went to shit. He was always content to sit in the passenger seat with his crossword puzzle, occasionally reading clues aloud until she solved them for him, even though she knew he could almost always solve them himself. But that’s all past tense. She’ll never go on trips like that again, because she’s part of the dead-dad-club now. This drive has been the longest stretch of uninterrupted time she’s had with her own thoughts in three weeks. She’d made a playlist in an attempt to drown out her own racing brain, but after the second repeat she’d turned it off.

Another reason she’s quickly losing daylight is because she made so many coffee stops her back teeth appear to be floating. She’d stopped at rest areas, drinking terrible coffee from vending machines and taking bathroom breaks in an endless cycle, each gas station bathroom more depressing than the last, with its flickering lights and paper towel dispensers that wheeze out single squares. She’d sit in her car in desolate parking lots trying to remember why she thought this was a good idea. The question would be answered by Feyre’s voice in her head every single time. You need to get away, clear your head a little. Just for a weekend. Rhys has this cabin, which used to be his mom’s cousin’s. It’s very quiet and remote, somewhere upstate near the mountains. It’ll be good for you, having some time to yourself.

Time to herself. To do what? Fall apart where no one can see? Finally scream the way her body has been demanding for three weeks? Be alone without Elain asking if she’s eaten, or Feyre’s worried eyes following her from room to room?

—————

Continue reading on AO3

[jellybeanjellyfishblog]

WIP Wednesday

(This is like two chapters from now but have some Mercenary Cassian)

The smile fell from his face as he looked back at the face of his prey. The ring on his right hand burned. Magic sparking along his fingertips as he twirls the band around. He would do this as his true self. Let the Illyrian Warrior out once more to defend a female from brutes and rapist. “I’ve met many males like you in my life Tomas.” His steps were slow, measured as if the act of walking was a challenge, “They all are the same. Weak and so aware of their own unimportance that they lash out at others.” Magic sparked along his skin as the ring that had kept his fae featured shifted slid off his finger. Black leather wings unfurled from his back stretching above his head. His joints shifted under his skin as he grew to his full height. “I have killed every one of them.” Twigs and dead leaves crunched under him as Tomas’s body fell to the forest floor. Each step set Tomas skirting further back. “You..you’re a…” The smell of urine curled his nose as he started down at the whimpering man, boy really, he had barely reached a quarter of a century old. So young and already so vile. He would never lay a hand on Nesta again. But Cassian would also make sure he never laid a hand on any woman. His wings flexed behind him as if they too relished the fear rolling off of the pathetic man at his feet. It felt so good to have them back out. Each twitch pulling another whimper from Tomas. The forest had gone silent around them. As if holding its breath for the carnage it knew was about to happen. Cassian grin was feral as he leaned down to stare directly into murky mud brown eyes. “I’m not just a fairy. I’m an Illyrian.” Quick as the words left his mouth Cassian struck out to wrap his hand around Tomas’s throat. “They will hunt you down for this. Burn that witch at the stake for being a fairy’s whore.” Unshaven skin rubbed against his palm with each word. Cassian felt the way the muscles rolled in Tomas’s throat before a glob of spit landed on his cheek. His fingers tightened on reflex lifting the struggling human until Cassian could lean in and speak in his ear, “They aren’t going to find enough of you to even piece together what happened out here.”

[starswhogaze]

No bc you see that jewelry collection?

3 brothers 3 sisters

[theteaqueendom]

Doomsday, Chapter 2

A ringing started in Cassian’s ears, the entire world falling away as he took in the blank expression on his mate’s lovely face.

He felt sick. He felt numb. He felt…

“No,” Azriel was saying carefully, his brows knitted together. His brother had taken care not to sound utterly outraged, as Cassian might have done. But he sounded gutted, nonetheless. “No, Nesta, we didn’t. We would never do that to you. Why do you think we would?”

To his growing horror, Nesta turned her attention back to her meal, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation they were having, and not one that was upending every iota of peace that he’d thought they were trying to reconstruct.

“You pushed us so hard to pass the qualifier,” she explained. “Our training was built around yours. Why wouldn’t you want us to perform in the Rite as well?”

“Because the Rite is barbaric,” Azriel answered, almost aggressive in his tone. “Especially for—”

His voice cracked, a little, and he fell silent, turning his eyes back to Cassian. He had rarely seen such emotion painted so blatantly on Azriel’s face. Nesta, too, turned her attention back to him.

“I assume if we had not argued, you would have found another way to get me to Illyria. Though, perhaps you knew who I would turn to, and took advantage. I cannot blame you for that. Though, I do wish you’d spared them.”

“What – no.” Cassian declared, placing his hand on the table. “No, that is not what happened. We had – I had – no knowledge of what was going to happen to you. Do you understand? None. If I’d known, I’d never have…”

Nesta furrowed her brows, and his eyes fixated on the healing cut above one of them, the faint bruising that still existed under her eyes from the hit she’d taken to her nose.

“Then why didn’t you stop it?”

---

Read on AO3 here.

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