Someone Tell Me Why Instead Of Editing My Thesis I’ve Spent This Morning Writing An Angsty Nessian/furious

New Song Fic: Bejewelled

Me: What song from midnights do people want a song fic for?

Everyone: ANTI-HERO! VIGILANTE SHIT!

Me: Cool, cool, um actually I’m gonna do Bejewelled tho

*Sorry guys I was in a Nesta fucking shining away from the Night Court mood rather than a depression fic mood so here you go*

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30357864/chapters/106906422

Snippet:

Nesta had gripped a sword that never belonged to her and trained her body into a weapon she never wanted to be. She wrung the plum red wine from her brain and confused a soldier doing his duty with a prince come to save her. She trusted even the beast that raged beneath her skin to be tamed by this male. This person who was … who was supposed to be her person. 

Cassian was a broken promise. A great, cosmic joke. Just hers enough to fool her.

SHADOW AND BONE ↳ 1.05: Show Me Who You Are

hii i hope you’re doing well! from the prompt list, could you do a blackevans brotp for general #18?

18. “Cheers, I’ll drink to that.” “You drink to everything.” “Cheers!”

“I heard Haswell is retiring next year.”

Across from her, Sirius perked up, lifting his head in acknowledgment before bringing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply, dragging it away from his mouth a moment later.

They were sprawled out across his bed, her leaning against the fluffed-up pillows by the headboard, Sirius spread-eagled at the foot of the mattress. He was resting his head on his elbows, his hair falling into his eyes only to be tossed over his shoulder when he brought the cigarette to his lips again.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that. Haswell was a fucking bitch,” Sirius said with a satisfied smile. He wasn't wrong; Professor Haswell, their DADA professor, was a total bitch. He'd had it out for Lily from the first class he'd taught, ruining her entire first year of NEWT Defense.

Thankfully, Professor Haswell wouldn't be there the next year, just like all the DADA teachers before him— he was apparently taking a sabbatical to move to Japan and study Japanese dueling techniques. Good riddance, Lily thought happily, with wretched satisfaction.

“You drink to everything. And you don't even have a drink, idiot,” She pointed out, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. In an effort to save face, she pulled her cigarette up to her lips to take a drag, not coughing even once when the smoke burned her chest.

“Cheers!” Sirius replied cheerfully, winking at her before letting his head drop back onto the bed covers, exhaling loudly. A puff of gray-black smoke hovered in the air in front of his mouth, shaped like a cloud, and she thought, vaguely amused, that just a year ago, she would have balked at the thought of willingly spending time with Sirius Black.

She didn't realize that she'd laughed aloud until Sirius arched an eyebrow in question.

“Sickle for your thoughts, Evans?”

“As if I'd tell you,” She retorted automatically, but with no malice behind her words.

He hummed in response, casual as ever. “You're only making me more curious.”

Lily sighed in defeat. If she backed out now, it would be suspicious. “Just thinking how appalled fifth-year Lily would be to see this. Us, smoking cigarettes on your bed.”

Sirius snorted, tilting his head to meet her eye, the right side of his face pressed into the bed. “Believe me, fifth-year Sirius would be even angrier. I used to think you were awful.”

She smirked softly. “Who said I ever stopped thinking you were awful?”

“Ah, don't lie, Evans. I know you find me irresistible,” He said with a wink. “Just don't tell Prongs, he'll be devastated.”

He'll be devastated. Lily battled furiously against her genetics, hoping against hope that her flustered demeanor wouldn't show as a blush.

She knew she'd been found out the moment a wide, shit-eating grin spread on Sirius' face.

“You really fancy him, don't you?” Sirius asked, still grinning. “Merlin, he'll be so thrilled when—”

“Don't tell him!” Lily shrieked. “This is so embarrassing— I can't believe I really started liking him—”

Sirus roared with laughter, looking utterly delighted with her words. “Really, Evans, don't tell me you didn't see it coming.”

Well. It sort of felt like she always knew she would fall for him in the end; in a convoluted, confusing way, Lily has suspected that this would happen eventually. That didn't make it any easier to deal with, though.

“Don't you dare tell,” Lily threatened. “I need time. Time. This is so fucking— ugh.”

Sirius' smile didn't diminish for a moment, but it sobered slightly, and he nodded to show that he understood.

“Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist. Shit, will Prongs be mad that we're talking about your knickers?”

She cut him off with a smack to his arm, snorting in disbelief. “You're an asshole, you know that?”

“Asshole is my middle name,” Sirius quipped. “Sirius Asshole Black. Fitting, I think.”

It was Lily's turn to dissolve into laughter, clutching her stomach as she dropped her head next to where his leg lay.

“You're a decent bloke, Sirius. Who knew?”

“You're a decent bird, Evans,” Sirius parroted, almost as if it was a challenge. “Who knew?”

“Everyone other than you,” Lily retorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder haughtily. “Sirius Has-No-Fucking-Taste Black.”

Sirius scoffed indignantly at that. “Take that back, you heartless harpy! I have wonderful taste! You're just jealous that I didn't like you until this year.”

“I could say the same of you,” Lily said triumphantly, taking another drag from her cigarette, before stubbing the butt of it out on the headboard with a thump.

“Whatever,” Sirius said with a scowl, but his eyes were dancing with laughter.

For several moments they were silent, the only noise coming from Sirius' cigarette. The slightly sour, earthy scent wafted up to her nose, and Lily closed her eyes, relishing in the way she felt grounded up here in the boys' dormitory, with her back pressed against the bedsheets and the cigarette smoke just a few feet away.

“Sirius?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Thank you for being my friend even when you could have resented me for hating your best mate for so long. Thank you for cheering me up when the world is shit. Thank you for letting me stay up here with you when everyone else is busy and I don't know how to tell the one other person I want to talk to that I think I love him.

“That's what friends are for, Red,” Sirius said quietly, so quiet that she almost couldn't hear him. “I was lucky enough to have some good ones. Ought to pass on the favor, hm?”

But she did hear him, so she reached out to grab his hand, squeezing it gently, and smiled when he squeezed back.

Chapter 1: The End of All that Was

Pity is for those who have lost. He cannot lose Nesta. There is not a universe he can fathom where he does not belong to her.

Cassian handles their breakup like a champ.

AO3

Warning: Cassian is a creep here-manipulation, stalking, the gamut

It takes weeks before Cassian begins to understand why she left. And if that isn't symbolic of their relationship he doesn't know what is.

Nesta knowing better, being better, as he trots behind. Coated in the arrogance of ignorance, always righteous until he's not, always catching the rhythm a beat too late.

***

He is a goner from their first meeting, leaning against the bedecked wall, grin growing as he watches her rip apart Rhysand's familiar monologue bemoaning the generous Christmas holidays he offers his workers (mostly under pressure from himself and Azriel).

She takes apart his brother's feeble justifications with the precision of a surgeon, irate expression contrasting beautifully with the festive and absolutely horrendous confection of lights and yarn she is wearing.

She is bewitching.

He waits, nursing his drink, quiet for once just watching, eager for a chance to introduce himself.

He is enthralled.

***

It takes three encounters to get her number and an embarrassingly sincere drunk confession to obtain a date.

Then in pieces, in the compounding fragments of the trust he earns, they become a pair.

Their relationship, his life's great love affair had always been loud. Screaming, fighting, laughing, fucking. Always wild, careless in their abandon, in their feckless behaviour as they jumped off the cliff, intertwined.

So why was Nesta's departure so quiet?

The muted rolling of a suitcase on carpet barely disturbing him from sleep, the ring left to catch morning light on the side table until he'd cops it on his way to work and rolls his eyes. Nesta is in a huff and he is indignant, ready to whinge to Azriel.

It's six months later, on their anniversary, that he sees Nesta's ending wasn't quiet.

He just wasn't listening.

***

It takes three days for him to realise she isn't coming back.

Convinced she'll return with the bang of a door, with sharp words he'll take and worse ones he'll offer in return, that after some makeup sex the ring will be home on her finger and he'll be thumbing through a wedding magazine before bed.

This misplaced confidence keeps him from calling. To let her cool off. Leads him to saunter to the apartment door Saturday morning only donning grey joggers. Wanting the upper hand, wanting to see Nesta flush so prettily and clench her jaw tightly, seeing right through his feeble tactics.   

Gwyn and Emerie, stony faces and empty cardboard boxes in hand, become a live audience to the destruction of his world. 

He stands stunned, head reeling as Nesta is removed from their apartment. He finds himself carrying out boxes of her books. All he wants is to take it all back, slam the door in their faces like a child because she can't just do this. But more importantly he needs to find Nesta. So a willing pack horse he becomes, trying to wheedle information from Gwyn.

His voice shaking, tears gathering, bile rising in his throat. 

"Do you know where she is?"

A nod.

"Will you tell me please Gwyn?"

Her red curls shake, a strong refusal. 

"I didn't realise she was being serious, I swear."

Gwyn stops in her tracks, head turning sharply to bestow a look that calls him an idiot in five languages.

***

When his house is emptied of anything that is her, anything he could not save, he returns to the ring still on the sidetable despite him begging Gwyn and Emerie to return it to Nesta. 

It is the only time they look upon him with an ounce of pity which only makes it worse. Pity is for those who have lost. He cannot lose Nesta. There is not a universe he can fathom where he does not belong to her.

The ring he cradles in battered hands amidst shattered glass and splintered oak.

His blood an artful, awful, Pollackesque smattering over the mess.

Flimsy furnishings seeming a small casualty when his heart is now a necrotic organ burning in his chest.

The ring he picked,

with a white dress,

a honeymoon in Paris,

the rest of their life, in mind.

A silent killing blow.

***

One last blazing row the night before.

Cuts landing too deep this time.

The final fragment of a trust he'd once treasured sacredly, spent so terribly,

"Who the fuck could stand you Nesta when I can't?"

It makes his stomach turn with sickening guilt. He would stitch those words into his skin with wire rather than say them to her now.

He'd like to think he's a different man, maybe a better one, but that's up to her.

She's the only deity he wants to weigh his soul.

He'll come up wanting.

But maybe...

Maybe she'd look at him.

Face him.

Let him burn alive in the grey fire of her glare.

He would delight in his damnation to have her look at him once more.

***

Saturday is a haze. Rhys and Az try to coax him out to no avail. His pain is raw. Anger, frustration, desperation a tumour growing unchecked in his chest. The broken sidetable now had a broken vase, two pictures frames and three tumblers to match it. 

She isn't answering his calls, vision blurry from tears and drink, the blue light of his phone is the only thing he can focus on in a world that is swimming. Her contact, Nes 🖤, a beacon a wavering light keeping him from going under. 

She isn't answering his calls and so the voicemails begin. 

"I have your ring. Sweetheart I'm not taking that back. It's yours. I'm yours... Nesta please just talk to me. I'm sorry about Wednesday night. Come back and we can talk."

Beep.

"What is this about Nes? We fight rough, always have baby. I'll do anything, say anything, get you anything you want just please Nes don't do this. We can get a fucking dog. I swear. We'll move to a different apartment. We can open a fucking dog hotel if that is what you want just.."

Beep.

"Tell me you're safe. Please. I'm going out of my mind here. I love you. More than anything."

Beep.

"Mor was right, you know you're such a fucking bitch sometimes. I'm trying to apologise when you left without a word. Fuck you sweetheart."

Beep.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That came out wrong, I didn't mean it, just I..I'm beginning to think you're not coming back to me. This isn't goodbye Nes right? Right?"

Beep.

"Just punish me in person, I'll grovel for you Nes, you know that..........It's just a break. It's just a break. That's okay sweetheart you can have it all. Anything you want. Just talk to me first. Talk to me."

Beep.

"I love you. More than anyone else ever has, will or can. Just. If you're going to shred my heart. Do it in person. Do it in person and I'll walk away. Otherwise I'm going to fight you tooth and fucking nail love."

Beep.

The last voicemail a gauntlet thrown by a drunk fool. A sealing of their fate. 

***

She arrives on Sunday. Suitable for it to be a holy day if this is his last visit from his god.

He is relieved to see her. Drunken promises of walking away temporarily forgotten. She had texted him an hour before to let him know she was on her way. Giving him time to put the house back in order, air out the smell of alcohol, sweat and despair. He's in his nicest jeans, hair tied in a low bun just how she likes. In the bedroom he has candles and rose petals, ready to worship her.

He wants to remind her she loves him, or she at least she did once.

Purple is painted in the hollows under her eyes, a slight tremor in her hand, greasy hair falling limply around her drawn face. She looks terrible and still the most stunning person he knows.

He's done this.

He'd rather Az pummel him in the ring than see her like this.The aching in his chest makes it hard to breathe. He's made a mistake forcing her hand. 

She looks around, avoiding his gaze, eyebrows raising slightly at the very absent sidetable.

She'd been so happy when they found that at old flea market off Washington St. when they first moved in together. He should have thought of that before he left it in splinters. 

"There was an accident. I fell, you know how clumsy I get Nes. The table never stood a chance."

Her eyes land on him, and now it's him that can't bear to look, hand rubbing on his neck nervously, focusing on his white socks.

The silence is choking him.

"It's okay. It's okay. We'll get one just like it. I'll check Ebay. I'll ask Amren, she prowls around all the good antique shops. I'll make a replica if I have to. Lucien knows an excellent carpenter. I can fix it Nes. I promise."

He can fix it. He can fix this.

He meets her gaze and wants to vomit.

She looking at him with care, tears running down her face, voice barely audible.

"Cassian. We can't be fixed."

He can't think, he can't breathe, the world is on its axis and she's going to leave. The distance between them has vanished, he's on his knees, soft carpet beneath them a luxury he does not deserve, burying his face in the cotton of her tshirt hands wrapped around her waist. 

"No. Nes, no. You can't do that. You can't leave. I'm going to convince you to stay. That's why you're here. You want to stay. I love you. I love you. I love you. I can't be without you."

Pulling his hands from her waist she kneels beside him, caressing his face.

"I'm here to end it in person like you asked."

Her voice and his heart break simultaneously.

'I love you too Cassian. But love is not enough. I can't live like this anymore. On a pedastal at home while you ignore how I'm treated by your friends."

The words friends is spat out.

'You either worship me or we're fighting. So much fighting. Aren't you tired? I'm so tired Cassian. I need more. I need to be by myself for a while. I need someone who doesn't live at work. I need someone you're not Cas."

This is what hell feels like. He's being excommunicated for his sins. She's even doing it in person. His god, so cruel and alluring.

"I'm leaving now Cas. I'm moving away for a while. A clean break will be good for us. You'll thank me for doing this one day."

She let's out something that an alien might count as a laugh. Nervous and watery, choked and uncertain.

"I'll never thank you for this Nes."

She leaves.

He's still kneeling hours later her words a painful, unending echo in his mind.

***

He doesn't go out much now and drinking himself numb in this empty apartment is not who he is anymore.

He doesn't drink often but on their anniversary he let's himself drown in rum, in albums, in the box of her stuff he managed to keep after Gwyn and Emerie cleared house.

He cries into that stupid fucking Christmas jumper.

He sprays her bottle of perfume, letting the vanilla, blackberry, sage sink into the air, a ghostly embrace. Sitting amidst his shrine to her he allows himself to reflect.

Regret every overlooked sneer and snide comment. He doesn't see any of his friends, his brothers anymore. Nesta doesn't like them.

Rue every time he came home late, missed a date, was too tired to talk. He has a new job now, remote with flexible hours. It pays less but he still has his stocks and the nest egg he built breaking his back working for over a decade.

Rhys was frantic to keep him on. Bullshit talk about how he was spiralling, how she wasn't worth it. Punching that remark from his mouth, in front of the board, forced his termination quite effectively.

He has enough for Nesta to retire in the morning. He has enough to buy that fancy brie she likes, and handpainted books, and enough jewellery to fill a small store. He has enough to stay beside her so she won't have to miss him. 

He's even bigger now, all his free time spent in the gym, ignoring how eating so much protein makes him feel. She always liked feeling safe in his arms.

He's read all her books. Found her goodreads and follows it like his gospel. Has watched every show,  every podcast she consumed on their accounts. He'll share all her likes. He'll never fight her on anything.

Once he earns her forgiveness they can be happy again.

***

She's coming back to town next month. A flying visit apparently. He's going to change that.

His chance is coming to show her how much better is.

The type of man she needs. The type she'll never leave. 

A concept...

Nesta x Eris Vanserra brotp

Just hear me out ok?! Ok. Thank you.

Understanding each other when the whole world is against them.

Eris about to throw hands but getting THAT look from Nesta and shutting his mouth.

Eris and Nesta gossiping about everyone like, “Love his jacket” - “he might be a dick but he sure has good taste”

Imagine Morrigan’s shock, imagine the inner circle’s shock. 

I’d live for the drama. Full on. 

Call me a bitch but… Feyre understanding that Nesta can make friends outside of the IC… as can Lucien.

Nesta would be his confidant and he would be hers. 

I honestly think Eris would protect Nesta from the venomous snake that is Morrigan (My hate for her is deep and don’t even bother trying to change it)

“Don’t talk to her like that. whatever problem you might have with me, DO NOT DEMEAN NESTA.”

I also think that Nesta would protect Eris from Cassian and Azriel. Like we all know mami is a fucking physco (I aspire to be like that) so she’d probably just jump in between like”Move Nesta”- “make me” while Eris is trying to subtly push her outta the way

“DON’T TOUCH ME VANSERRA,”

“yes ma’am.” 

Cassian’s jealousy

Nesta getting mad at Cassian because he belittles him at every chance he gets as does Eris and she just watches them fight.

I’m basically seeing Nesta just in the middle saying a Veronica lodge line:

“I can’t stand the male toxicity in this room.” every time they fight.

The IC might make peace with Eris because if Nesta knows the truth, what happened and why he did what he did then they might…ya never know.

Matching outfits. 

And the most important thing:

He would belong solely to her and no one else.

He’d make her laugh and she’d make him show his true self to the world.

The Queen of Death and the Lord of fire. 

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

I am looking for a fanfic set during acowar where cassian and nesta are sort of together and they share a bed in his tent, I don't remember much more, but please tell me if you find anything like this.

Look guys I wrote a whole story in my head this morning about Nesta leaving Velaris and marrying someone else, because I was upset that SJM’s version of “I don’t write first time scenes,” derailed what I would consider to be more important, as in Nesta having a serious relationship before she gets into another serious relationship that is tied by some magical unforeseen bond. 

I have thought of a lot of scenarios for this, including but not limited to a man who owns a ship, and asks Nesta to travel with him, but she gets so seasick she doesn’t go. A dancer type who she ends up having the threesome with. A serious farmer. A musician who writes her songs, etc. SO many. I could write a fic of the people she dates. 

But in this scenario, maybe after all these men, Nesta marries for money. She’s aware of the precariousness of her position, and just as she’s been raised, she husband hunts, and she marries without anyone knowing. 

Keep reading

You have no right💔

I feel like Easy on me by Adele is such a Nesta song

"Go easy on me baby, I was still a child

Didn't get the chance to feel the world around me"

ACOSF 78.5

Wrote a chapter that i felt was missing, plz convey ur thoughts  plagiarized the sex scene bc that felt uncomfy to write lol

Hours later, once Feyre and Nyx were sound asleep and Rhys had some color return to his cheeks, Nesta and Cassian flew back to the house. The new family was under vigilant watch by Mor and Elain, the latter who had refused to let Madja leave without the finest bouquet made from the rarest plants in the river house garden.

Mor had winnowed Gwyn and Emerie back to the library – Emerie had no desire to return to Windhaven just yet, especially when her home had been torn apart both by their Illyrian kidnappers and later, by Cassian’s utter panic. Nesta was not quite ready to part with her sisters-in-arms just yet, but knew they all desperately needed a bath and a warm meal.

Alone in the sky, Nesta rested her head against Cassian’s shoulder. She savored his scent, taking deep, heady breaths of him as they flew under the twinkling stars in the sky. She savored the feel of his strong heartbeat alongside the steady beat of his wings. She pressed a kiss to his jaw and idly traced the veins of his neck. She had missed this feeling desperately over the past week. And for a few terrifying moments on the slopes of Ramiel, she thought would never be in his arms again; the though threatened to set free the tears she hasn’t yet shed. Cassian must have sensed the direction her thoughts had headed in and only clutched her tighter to him.

Cassian flew them higher and higher, and with each beat of his wings, Nesta allowed the bone-tired weariness to creep in. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate a full meal or got a full night’s rest. She ached to be reunited with her bed or be reacquainted with the House’s culinary creations.  

A few wingbeats later, Cassian arrived at the landing of the House. He gently lowered Nesta down to her feet, but as soon as her legs touched the ground they threatened to buckle. He wordlessly lifted her back up and carried her past the threshold of their home.

“Welcome home,” he whispered against her ear.

Nesta shuddered; her home, her friend. In response, the house brushed a calming wind against her forehead, and Nesta could smell of roast beef (or was it a steak?) wafting from her room and hear a trickle of water coming from the adjoining bath. As if the house knew exactly what she needed; an old nursemaid indeed.

Cassian carried her down to her room and cautiously set her down. Her knees wobbled but she remained upright. They both silently took in their surroundings and started; in the corner of the room stood a spiral staircase, a staircase connecting her room and Cassian’s above her.

Cassian chuckled, “Guess someone has been doing some redecorating while we’ve been away.” 

“I guess so,” Nesta mused. To the House she said, “Thank you.” Nesta could’ve sworn the air around her bowed in response.

“What should we do with my room upstairs – we can turn it into an indoor training ring. Or an auxiliary library. Or into a giant closet. The opportunities are endless,” Cassian grinned. 

Nesta blinked away the tears threatening to let loose. It was so silly – so silly to be brought to tears by something this mundane. But to have options, to have the ability to plan for the future. The future with him. This was something she would never again take for granted.

“We can do whatever we want.” She said in response. She took in a deep breath. “But right now, I think I really want a bath.” 

Cassian nodded. “I can’t say I like the scent of you in another male’s clothes. I’m looking forward to using this outfit as kindling.” 

Nesta snorted, and slowly, painfully walked into the bath chamber towards the already drawn bath. The enticing scents of lavender and lilacs drifted towards her; but she found herself too exhausted to peel off her clothes, oversized though they were. Cassian silently entered behind her and gently took off the stolen, stinking clothing. He lifted her naked body into the bath and Nesta groaned at the first touch of warm water against her aching body.

The water didn’t sting against her injuries as it should have; taking a quick glance at the bottles lined up next to her told Nesta that the House had mixed a healing salve into the water. Nesta couldn’t be more grateful.

As soon as she was settled in the bath, a tray of roast beef and vegetables appeared in front of her, resting across the tub. Next to the main course was the most beautiful slice of chocolate cake Nesta had ever seen. The sight of the steaming meat and shining dessert had Nesta ready to break down in tears again.

“Looks good enough to eat.” Cassian said, a touch too innocently. Nesta smiled up at him.

“Do you want to get in?” She asked him, echoing the question from so many months before.

The amber in his eyes darkened, his eyes scanning over her body like a brand. His gaze lingered on a cut on her shoulder; Cassian sucked in a breath, and schooled his face into neutrality. Courtier indeed. His response was the same now as it was then, and a softer type of pain slashed across his eyes, “You’re hurt.” 

“That didn’t stop you before.”

Cassian growled, low and heady in his throat, and Nesta’s blood sang in response.

Cassian pointed towards the tray of food. “Alright. Get started on your dinner. I’m going to go dispose of these godsforsaken clothes and be right back.” Cassian turned and picked up the pile of torn and dirty clothes and strode out of the bathroom.

Nesta’s tired and aching body thrummed in anticipation, creating a strange combination of exhaustion and eagerness. She turned her attention towards her food, and began to eat, counting down the seconds until her mate returned. 

*

Cassian hadn’t been gone more than four minutes when he returned to the bath. He laughed softly at his view: Nesta dozing off, in front of her a half-eaten plate of roast beef and a second plate, completely empty, where not a single crumb of chocolate cake remained. Nesta’s mouth was lined with her dessert; he had never known his mate to be an ill-mannered eater, but the residue from her meal showed him how starved she must have been.

Mate. His mate. He leaned down and helped himself to the remaining beef and vegetables on her plate. This wasn’t quite the food sharing ceremony that he wanted, but what was hers was his, and what was his was hers. They might as well start sharing now.

He lifted the empty tray off the bath and set it on the floor. He turned to grab a towel but was halted by Nesta stirring.

“What took you so long?” She grumbled.

“I was gone for less than 5 minutes. You’re exhausted.”

“I don’t care. Get in.” Nesta threw as much bite into the command as she could, but her exhaustion won out. Instead, she wound up sounding like a petulant child. Irritated, she made to scooch forward in the tub and stared up at him expectantly.

Cassian loosed a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Your wish is my command, my lady.” He peeled off his clothes, keeping his eyes on hers. He wanted her – needed her – badly, but knew she needed rest. He lowered himself into the bath behind her, wings and all.

“Dunk your hair in so I can wash you.”

Nesta obeyed, and was rewarded by his fingers skillfully lathering something scented with lilacs into her hair. He massaged her temple, her hair, and behind her ears with such skill that she moaned. She felt him hard and ready behind her and made to reach for him. He flicked her hand away, his laugh a quiet grumble in his throat. Cassian leaned his mouth down against her ear to whisper, “When you’re healed and looking pretty again, then I’ll let you fuck me wherever you please in this House.” 

“Using my own words against me. You’re a quick study, Courtier.” Nesta chuckled, “You would think saving the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court would entitle me to some sort of a reward.”

Cassian felt his heart clench, and quickly forced the somber thoughts out of his mind. She had saved them; she had saved them all. He would never stop being thankful for his brave, beautiful mate. “Dunk your hair back in the water and we can get you dried up.” 

“I don’t want to leave the bath yet. I like it here.”

I like it here with you, were the words that were left unspoken, but understood, between the two of them. Cassian nodded silently against her, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

Nesta leaned more fully against him and closed her eyes, and Cassian wrapped his arms around her waist. In their home, his mate in his arms, he relished in this moment. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of.

Nesta whispered, “You’re more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

Cassian stared down at her, but her eyelids were drooping and he knew that she needed rest. He only held her closer and began soothing strokes down her leg.

Safe in her mate’s arms, Nesta slept. 

*

Hours, or maybe even days, later, Nesta awoke in her bed. It was dark again – could she have actually slept an entire day? She rubbed her eyes awake.

Wings, she realized. She had been sleeping cocooned in her mate’s wings; they both were. She turned to face him; her beautiful, kind, and fiercely loving mate. Her love.

It was rare that she awoke before him; his Illyrian training had him up at the crack of dawn every single day. It wasn’t often that Nesta had an opportunity like this, an opportunity to stare at his perfect face. A face she hadn’t seen for a week. A face she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate in their reunion that had been cut short.

Conveniently enough, they were both naked – she peered down and laughed quietly. Even in sleep, he was ready for her.

Nesta lifted an arm to trace the velvety membrane of his wing. She traced from its outermost border toward his back, stroking determinedly where skin met wing, and pressed a kiss to his chest, trailing her mouth upwards. She reached her other hand down and began pumping him softly, and felt her own wetness begin to pool between her legs.

“Good morning,” he whispered when her mouth met his.

“Good morning,” she whispered back, smiling. She lifted her hips in silent command.

Grinning wickedly, Cassian obeyed. He nudged at her entrance but halted there, and Nesta whimpered.

Cassian snickered, “Still so impatient, Archeron.”

Nesta growled. She arched her neck in a second command digging her fingers into his shoulders, and Cassian didn’t hesitate a single second before licking up her neck and plunging into her at the same moment.

I missed this. Being drenched in you. Nesta gasped at Cassian’s voice, as clear as any words spoken aloud, in her mind. Cassian chuckled, his laugh a song to her blood. One of the many benefits of the mating bond, in case you forgot.

Cassian drew out in a long slide, leveraging Nesta’s stunned silence to his benefit. He thrust back, seating himself fully and watched her eyes roll back into her head. The sight of her so undone so quickly had him ready to come instantly, but he willed his cock to relax.

He withdrew again, and watched his cock slide out, gleaming with her wetness, and then plunged again. With every thrust, he lost himself in her, as if he hadn’t already done so weeks, months, and years ago. He lost all sense of himself, and there was her, only her.

I love you. He said into her mind with every thrust. I love you.

Nesta couldn’t stop the barrage of tears freeing themselves from her eyes. The words that had evaded her for so long, the words she knew to be true with his every action and every glance in her direction. The words she didn’t know she needed to hear until now. 

“I love you,” she choked out, “I have always loved you.”

 I love you. With everything I have ever been, with everything that I am, with everything I will ever be. I love you.

Release barreled into them both at the same moment, and he rammed up into her with such a mighty thrust that they both screamed. She clamped around him, and he spilled as much of himself as he could into her.

They clung to each other, Nesta stroking his arm and Cassian clutching her tightly to his chest on top of his thundering heart.  

“I love you,” he whispered, silver lining his eyes, “More and more with every passing moment, with every passing day.”

She kissed him deeply, letting her lips and mouth and tongue convey what words could not. Surrounded by the love of her House, the love of her mate, and her growing love for herself, she said to him, do it again.

Cassian grinned, happy to oblige.