Would you consider a part 2 for the fic where nesta just does as she’s told? Maybe where Cassian confronts the inner circle about it?

Pretty please <3

I’m not sure this is the closure people are looking for from this but uh … this is what came out. Sorry everyone.

Feyre rolled her eyes before Cassian could even finish speaking. It wasn’t like her, to be so dismissive. But that look in her blue-grey eyes, so alive that it twisted his gut thinking of the shade, it was pure dismissal.

“Listen, Cass,” she sighed, as if speaking to Nyx when he wouldn’t finish his mushed up sweet potatoes. “I … I don’t know what went on between you and my sister in the war. I know that she pushes your buttons and I know that you two have your … whatever it is, but just because Nesta doesn’t want to play that game anymore doesn’t mean anything is wrong with her. She’s finally herself again.”

“No she isn’t,” Cassian insisted. “She’s … I don’t know, faking it. Going through the motions. She’s -“

“Healing,” Feyre said with yet another sigh. “She’s healing, Cassian.”

“She’s numb, Feyre. And I swear to the Cauldron if you sigh at me one more time-“

“You haven’t known her as long as I have!” Feyre crossed her arms over her chest, clearly fighting back a fucking sigh. “You didn’t know her when she was young. Before we lost everything …” Feyre swallowed hard, shifting on her toes. “This is what she was like. Free, unburdened, quiet. I’m sorry that you liked the version of her that was bitter and afraid, but that wasn’t her. Not really. This is her.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian spat. “You said it yourself months ago. Nesta is like a wolf who never got to be a wolf. If she acted like this when you were rich humans it was only because she thought that’s what the world wanted from her!” Cassian knew Nesta. Feyre was her sister, had known her longer, but Cassian … Cassian knew her. In his bones, in his soul, the piece of him that was … not missing, that wasn’t how to describe it. The piece of him that was reaching. It knew. He knew.

This was not Nesta.

“Even if that is true,” Feyre sighed, “it just proves my point. She is healing. Finally. It took me so long to remember who I was again and Nesta … she’s been through so much. We all have.”

Suddenly, Cassian understood why Nesta snapped when he tried to shove stories about Rhys and Feyre and their special little journey’s down her throat.

“She. Is. Not. Ok.”

“She is,” Feyre spat. Hands tightening and jaw clenching. “She is fine. My family is finally together and happy and I won’t let you ruin it because she won’t fuck you, Cassian!”

Cassian stumbled back three steps. Feyre’s hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t. Cassian I didn’t mean that. I know-”

“It’s fine, Feyre.” Cassian held his hands up in surrender. “I get it.”

And he did.

He should have gotten it a long time ago.

It was never about Nesta or her behaviour or her power. It was about Feyre, it had always been about Feyre.

Rhys’s plan, the insistence on training, it wasn’t about Nesta.

Nesta never wanted to be a warrior. She said it herself, there are other ways to be strong.

The plan … the entire plan had never been about Nesta.

It was about Feyre.

Fixing Nesta when she was never broken.

Creating impossible choices.

Using him to manipulate her.

No one had ever cared if Nesta got better. They only cared that Feyre was happy. That Feyre had her family. That nothing upset Feyre after everything she went through.

And the worst part of it all was that Cassian couldn’t even blame anyone. He couldn’t blame Feyre for wanting to believe that everything was finally fine. He couldn’t blame Rhys for doing all of this because … he was doing everything he could to protect his mate. To make her happy.

The same thing that Cassian was supposed to do for Nesta.

He was supposed to be the one on her side the way Rhys was on Feyre’s.

Complete loyalty.

He was supposed to protect her, and instead he broke her.

Failed her in every way a male could possibly fail.

Nesta Archeron had lived through a war, had removed multiple heads with her bare hands, had been shoved into the freezing waters of good and evil and creation itself and had her humanity ripped away.

But none of that broke her.

None of that was the worst thing to happen to her.

He was.

Ok ok so hear me out

Prompt- basically one where Nesta and Cassian didn’t mate at the end of of ACOSF, never even slept together. Nesta just ends up giving in and agreeing to train or work in the lib and eventually becomes ‘apart’ of the inner circle and does magic and shit for them or whatever.

And cassian of course is overjoyed because nesta is part of the fam now and he keeps trying to play with her or rile her up (like the old Cassian did) back to his old self now that she’s doing what they want but because nesta was forced to submit she’s just a shell of a person, doesn’t want to argue with him or anyone, just does what she’s told. And now cassians beginning to really panic (as he should) because he just wants her to be happy

Love your work btw <3

Did someone ask for ✨Angst✨

Nesta learned young that the world wanted silence from women.

Yes, she had been a woman then. A girl and then a woman and now … a female. Pretty dresses and panting creatures who thought with the parts between their legs and a list of rules she never wanted to follow. The only difference in this life was that it would never end.

The Fae claimed to be different, well, the hypocrites she was surrounded by claimed to be different.

The humans rapped her knucles with hard wooden switches and pulled her spine up straight and sat her on the shelf like a pretty little doll to be silent decoration. They demanded silence and a pretty smile.

Feyre and Rhysand and their merry little court put a sword in her hand and sent her to war even as they demanded the same thing. She was allowed to speak and sweat and curse as much as she pleased. She was allowed to be wild as Feyre always had been, but still they expected silence.

Silence where it mattered.

Nesta found her spot in this court when she started to learn from Elain. When she noticed that no one bothered her no matter how far she fell, how depressed she clearly was, how haunted her eyes looked. No one yelled or locked her away or claimed to hate her. You could not hate a person who never said what they thought.

It was a different kind of freedom, Nesta supposed, to be completely numb. To watch your own too long, too graceful fingers slip past this beautiful, hazy possibility you once clung to with battered knuckles and a warrior’s spirit.

They never commented on her drinking now, though it was worse than it had ever been. Feyre giggled and set bottle after bottle between them on a coffee table as she prattled on about her mate and her baby and whatever new way the world was set to end this time. Nesta smiled now as she never had before. Smiled and nodded and made a well timed joke between sips of pink spiked summer water and Feyre never noticed.

How proud she was of herself, of the warrior sister she plucked from the slums and gave a purpose.

Nesta wore the dresses Rhysand gifted her even though the softest silk felt like sandpaper against her skin. She ate at their table and fought all of their battles and it was almost tolerable.

Living like a tiger in one of those roaming circuses. Not free, not allowed to be what it was born to be, not allowed to revel in its pouncing nature, but … secure. Fed and managed and perfectly fine.

She was perfectly fine.

“Nes is going to kick your ass pretty soon if you don’t get back in the ring, Rhys,” Cassian joked one night as he peeled sweat-soaked leathers from his toned body. Tossing them to the floor, treating the House like his maid the way he always had. The way he would have no reason not to.

“I could kick his ass now,” Nesta said on cue and without inflection. That was her line. Cassian baited Rhys and she flexed the muscles she let him train into her body and agreed with whatever he said.

“It would be a waste for Nesta and I to ever spar with fists.”

Nesta swallowed. She had no line for that. No witty response for mention of her party trick power that was only allowed out on Rhys and Feyre’s command. Cassian swooped in, convinced it was a lasting sensitivity he must save her from. “As long as none of us play her in cards,” he joked.

Nesta rolled her eyes and laughed how she was supposed to.

It wasn’t until later that night, long after the sun had set, when she was drinking her way through Rhys’ rapidly declining supply of good whiskey, that she realized her mistake.

The numbness only worked when no one looked too close. And no one ever cared to … except for him. He always looked too close.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Of course.” Maybe that was where she went wrong. Being too amicable. Somewhere, in a deep echo chamber where she kept all her true thoughts locked away, Nesta knew that she would never acquiesce without a snarky comment. She didn’t have the energy to find that line. And why should she? Everyone but him was fine with this.

Cassian sat too close on purpose, pressed his knee against hers and took a long drag from her glass rather than getting his own. He refilled it and licked the side before giving it back to her.

Nesta took a sip from the other side. His eyebrows knitted together.

“Still insisting on all this fabric I see,” he grinned lecherously, picking up the gauzy end of her nightgown. “Feyre and Mor don’t take you to that fun shop by the rainbow?”

“They do,” Nesta nodded, eyes fixed on a spot in the distance.

“Maybe you would let me join you next time?” He smirked, bicep brushing up against her shoulder.

“If you would like.”

“And you can try some things on for me?” Nesta nodded as she took another sip of her drink.

“If you would like.”

“And then we can go behind the store and fuck like animals in plain sight?”

“If you-“ Nesta paused, mind catching up to the words she had been tuning out.

“There we go,” he sighed, moving back and sinking into the chair beside her. “There was actually life in your eyes for a second there.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Talk to me, Nes.” She hated when he called her that, hated the softness he insisted on cloaking her with in his own mind. “What’s wrong?”

Everything. “Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit!” Nesta winced, because the last time Cassian said those words to her …

“I’m fine,” she forced a smile. “Really!” She couldn’t go back. Couldn’t go back to being locked away and cut off and terrified. She couldn’t go back to being desperate and under their control all the time.

“You aren’t fine,” he whispered. “You barely even seem like yourself, Nes.”

“Exactly,” she felt her eyes spark for just a second before dousing them in cold water. “I am better now.”

Cassian only blinked. “Better?”

“Just like you all wanted.”

“We didn’t want a shell, Nesta!” His voice rose, cracking at the top in a way she had never heard.

“Of course you did,” she shrugged. “Everyone is happy this way, Cassian.”

“I’m not,” he shook his head, eyes going wide with the realization of just how empty she was now.

Typical Cassian to change his mind just when she gave him everything he wanted.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Nesta what the fuck?” He nearly toppled out of his chair, falling to his knees with an audible crack. Nesta raised her legs up and hugged them to her chest to avoid contact. “Nesta this isn’t … where did you go?”

“I am right here,” she smiled her new smile. The one that danced like a reluctant spirit on her lips and would never reach her eyes.

“No,” he shook his head. “No this isn’t … this isn’t you, Nes.”

“Of course it is,” she shrugged. “It is exactly the me you told me to be.” Even her accusations sounded like sleepy sighs. “Train or go to the human lands. I trained. Live here or go to the human lands. I lived here. Play nice or be cut off. I played nice.” Nesta looked up, past his eyes instead of into them. “I followed all your rules, Cassian. You don’t get to change them now just because your favourite toy is broken.”

Your soft nessian is killing me will you do a part 2 to the period cramps one?

I can only do soft Nessian in the ACOWAR era so yes have a part 2 … warning, it’s even more soft …

Cassian stayed awake the entire night. He knew he needed to sleep. He knew he needed to be at his best. He knew there was a war raging and the battle could start at any moment.

He simply didn’t care.

This may well be the only chance he would ever get to be with her like this. To hold her like this. To press his lips to her forehead and feel her lean into him like this.

Her hands clasped over his all night, forcing their bodies closer and Cassian wonders if it is wrong to enjoy it so much when he knows.

He knows how the magic of this world works and she does not. He knows why her body keened into his and he knows that it was not a free choice. He knows why she pulls him against her now and wants to feel his hands pressed to her …

He can’t even think the word. The true word. Not stomach or abdomen or … no. It’s wrong.

She isn’t herself, but she needs him. In this moment Nesta needs something from him that no one else can give her.

And it doesn’t matter that she will probably lash out in the morning or that her walls will get even thicker when she realizes the vulnerability she let slip. Right now, she needs him. She needs him to make her feel safe and warm and to lessen the pain.

It feels as if these hours, chest pressed into her back, hands cradling her stomach, are the only reason he has been alive these past 500 years. Nothing outside of this tent matters. How could it when his entire world is gripped in his hands and he knows he will have to let it go in a matter of hours?

The cauldron really did hate him, to give him this for such a fleeting moment and then send him into war.

It was worth it. If Cassian died tomorrow his entire life would have been worth it for these moments with this female.

Mother, he was about to fucking cry. How was it possible for a chest to feel this tight, a body to feel this full, a spirit to feel this fulfilled?

This was the feeling that people jumped from cliffs and studied centuries and ran themselves into the ground chasing. This was the great answer. The solution to every wrong thing in this universe.

And he could lose it all in an instant.

500 years of life and Cassian had never known true fear until this moment.

Careful, brother.

Not now, Cassian growled to the voice in his mind. Couldn’t Rhys just let him have this.

You’re lucky she doesn’t know what these things mean, but take it from me, hiding it will not be to your benefit.

She isn’t like Feyre, Cassian mentally sighed, she isn’t ready.

Time is a luxury no longer on our side

Cassian wanted to ask Rhys how he did it. How he survived every day knowing that the reason for his existence could be in danger at any second, but he had no right to ask such a thing. No right to pretend that the fleeting hours of bliss pressed against him were the same as what his brother had.

Don’t go soft on me now General. I need you in fighting shape.

I’ve never felt more ready to fight, Cassian responded without pause. And he meant it.

You just have to want me here and I would watch the world crumble into dust before I left your side.

Cassian was certain she fell asleep before he got up the courage to say those words, and he would probably be glad for that in the morning.

Or would he?

If no one heard a promise it was easy to back out. And he wanted to be held accountable to her. He wanted his promise to mean something. He wanted … a future.

He didn’t want to watch the world crumble into dust.

He wanted to fight for it with every breath in his body.

He wanted there to be a world for him to fight for this in, to fight for her.