#more sapphic nesta

[hrizantemy]

Cassian had thought about little else but Nesta since she’d left after Solstice. The silence between them weighed on him, and no matter how much he tried to bury it, his mind would always find its way back to her—her distance, her rejection, the way she avoided him. The others had noticed, and while Feyre had scolded Morrigan for her harsh words to Nesta, it was clear to everyone that Morrigan’s apology hadn’t been genuine. She had moved on from it, but Cassian couldn’t.

Feyre, on the other hand, seemed more hopeful. She was grateful that Nesta had invited her somewhere, even if it was just to a tavern, and Cassian couldn’t help but feel a flicker of resentment. Feyre was desperate for any sign of connection, but Nesta’s invitation felt more like a fragile truce than a real step toward healing.

Elain, ever the quiet observer, had admitted she didn’t feel comfortable going to the tavern. Feyre had been understanding, suggesting they instead go to Nesta’s for dinner, which Elain reluctantly agreed to. But even with the offer, Feyre could tell Elain was still uncomfortable, her unease lingering in the air as they all moved forward, each of them carrying a mix of hope and hesitation.

The days after Cassian had returned from Illyria were a blur, the lingering ache of Nesta’s absence gnawing at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her—of the emptiness her absence had left behind—and the thought that maybe, just maybe, she was somewhere close, just out of reach.

It wasn’t like him to be consumed by a single thought, but Nesta had changed everything. He had spent weeks trying to keep his mind occupied, pushing away the overwhelming need to track her down, to find where she had gone after leaving the Solstice gathering. But the more he tried to resist, the more the idea took hold of him. He would find her. He would go to the taverns, visit the places where she’d worked, or ask anyone who might know where she lived now.

The desperation to demand an answer, to force her to talk to him, gnawed at him like a hunger he couldn’t appease. But even as he thought about it, a part of him knew it wouldn’t work. Not like this. Not with him demanding answers and trying to impose his will. He had never been good at that with Nesta. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to fix things, to force a conversation, to fix whatever was broken between them.

Yet, even in the depth of his frustration, part of him feared what he might find, what he might hear, and whether he would truly be ready for it. The guilt and the uncertainty clung to him as the days wore on, leaving him wondering if he could even find a way to make things right with the woman who had stolen his heart.

Cassian’s feelings were more complicated than just longing. There was resentment simmering beneath the surface, a bitterness he couldn’t shake. Nesta had healed without them—without him. She had distanced herself further and further, choosing to rebuild her life alone. The thought stung. She had pushed them away, rejecting the very people who had once been her support, and now she stood as someone entirely different. Someone who no longer needed him or any of them.

It was hard for Cassian to watch from the sidelines, unable to help her, to fix things, to even get close. The woman who had once been drowning in her own pain had now found a way to stand tall, to pull herself out of the mess she had been in. She got a job, stopped drinking, and stopped bringing strangers home like she once had. She had paid back every single coin Rhysand had once fronted for her—the tabs she’d racked up in the taverns. It was almost as if she was proving a point, showing them that she could thrive without their help, without their pity.

The transformation was remarkable, but it didn’t feel like victory to him. It felt like defeat. Nesta had done it all on her own, and in doing so, she had forced him to confront how little he had been able to do for her when she needed it most. She had pulled herself out of the darkness, but in doing so, she had cut the rest of them out, and that cut deep. Cassian couldn’t quite reconcile his admiration for her strength with the bitter realization that she had moved on—without him.

The worst part wasn’t just that Nesta had healed. It wasn’t even that she had moved on without him. No, the worst part was seeing how happy she looked—not with him, but with someone else. It was a quiet sort of joy that radiated from her, a peace Cassian had never seen in her eyes. And it wasn’t even the fact that she was with a woman. That, in itself, shocked him, yes, but it wasn’t the source of his turmoil. It was the softness in her gaze—the kind of softness he had never once seen directed at him.

Never once had Nesta looked at him like that, not even when they were close. Not when they had shared their quiet moments, when their bond had been full of unspoken things. She had always been guarded with him, distant, and maybe that’s what made her healing feel like a sharp, cruel reminder of everything he had missed.

But with Taryn? With her, Nesta’s face was full of something Cassian had only ever dreamed of seeing. There was no hardness in her eyes, no suspicion, no walls. Just warmth, just that kind of openness he hadn’t earned, couldn’t have earned. He’d never been able to break down the barriers she had built around her heart, and seeing her share that tenderness with someone else made him feel small, insignificant. It twisted something inside of him, this ugly mix of guilt and longing, watching her so free with someone else, when all he had ever wanted was to be the one who got to see that side of her.

That softness was never meant for him, and that realization hit him harder than he had expected. It was a kind of finality that he couldn’t escape, no matter how much he tried to move past it.

Cassian walked along the Sidra, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his boots kicking stray rocks with each step. The water flowed beside him, but he barely noticed it, his mind too heavy with thoughts that dragged him down. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know where to go from here. Every time he tried to get closer to Nesta, to reach her, there was nothing but distance between them—an invisible wall he couldn’t break.

The bond they once shared was gone. Or at least, it felt that way. He couldn’t sense her anymore, not in the way he used to. It wasn’t that the bond was broken—it was as if she had simply let it go, as if she no longer needed or wanted to feel him. It wasn’t a severing, no clean break, but a slow drifting, like she had forgotten he was ever there. Forgotten that he could still feel her, hear her thoughts, be connected to her in ways that no one else could.

It should have hurt, but instead, it left him with an emptiness, a hollow feeling in his chest. It was as if Nesta had taken all of her warmth, all of her strength, and moved it away from him—away from their bond. Cassian knew she was healing, knew she was thriving, but what he couldn’t understand was why that meant leaving him behind. Had she ever really needed him, or had it always been just a fleeting connection, something that had served its purpose and now was no longer relevant?

He kicked another rock, watching it skip across the surface of the river. There was a time when she had been the center of his thoughts, when the mere idea of her would light a fire inside him. But now? Now he was walking through the motions, trying to figure out how to live without the pull of her presence constantly there, even if it had been distant for so long. He didn’t know what to do, where to go, or how to fix this. He only knew that whatever Nesta had done, whatever path she was on, it was one she had chosen without him. And that realization? That was the hardest blow of all.

Cassian didn’t even realize where he was walking, his mind consumed with thoughts of Nesta and the lingering emptiness that followed her departure. He was lost in the rhythm of his steps, his gaze fixed downward, barely registering his surroundings. And then, without warning, he collided with someone. The impact was soft, but the crash of falling bags broke through his haze. He heard a quiet curse as a few grocery bags tumbled to the ground, spilling their contents onto the cobblestone street.

He froze, instantly aware of what had happened. He was going to apologize, to bend down and help pick up the mess, but then he looked up. And there she was.

Taryn.

His heart stuttered for a brief second. He hadn’t expected to run into her—least of all like this. She stood there, glaring at the ground as she quickly began to gather her fallen groceries, a faint flush of frustration coloring her features. Cassian felt a flicker of embarrassment, realizing he had been so lost in his own world that he hadn’t even noticed someone in his path.

Without thinking, he crouched down to help her, reaching for the scattered bags. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

Taryn didn’t immediately respond. She continued picking things up with swift movements, clearly trying to hide her irritation. But then she paused, glanced up at him, and gave a tight smile. “It’s fine,” she said, though there was a trace of tension in her voice.

Cassian watched her, unsure of what to say next. There was an awkwardness between them, an unspoken distance. After all, she wasn’t just a stranger, not really. She was with Nesta. And for all the times he had seen her from a distance, there was a weight to this encounter that he hadn’t expected.

He picked up the last of the fallen items, placing them carefully back into the bags. “Are you… okay?” he asked, his voice softening slightly as he straightened.

Taryn didn’t immediately answer, but she nodded, taking the bags from him. “Yes, thank you,” she said quietly. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, something Cassian couldn’t quite place. A guardedness, perhaps, or a wariness that matched the awkwardness of their interaction.

Cassian felt the silence stretch between them, unsure of how to break it. Finally, he cleared his throat, giving a small shrug. “I should have been paying more attention.”

Taryn glanced at him, offering a small, knowing smile. “Seems like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Cassian’s gaze flickered away, the weight of her words hitting a little too close to home. He didn’t respond right away, but the quiet between them felt heavier now. Taryn, however, was already looking down at the bags, seeming to dismiss the moment as quickly as it had come.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I should get going.”

As Taryn adjusted the weight of the bags in her hands, her fingers straining to hold them all, Cassian stood there, watching her. It was strange how something so simple—a woman holding bags—could feel so heavy. Her posture, tense as she shifted the weight from one hand to the other, made it clear she wasn’t handling it easily.

Cassian didn’t know why, but before he could stop himself, he found the words slipping out. “Do you need help?”

Taryn paused. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might refuse—pride or stubbornness flashing in her eyes—but then, after a moment’s hesitation, she seemed to reconsider. Her gaze softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

“Actually, yes,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “Thank you.”

Cassian moved forward, careful not to crowd her, and reached for one of the bags. He could feel the weight of it in his hand as he took it from her, the gesture simple, but somehow it felt like an unspoken offering. A truce, or maybe just an acknowledgment that neither of them had to carry their burdens alone, if only for a moment.

They started walking together, side by side, the awkwardness of their earlier exchange lingering in the air. Taryn said nothing for a while, and Cassian didn’t press her. His mind wandered again, thoughts drifting back to Nesta and that strange, quiet sense of longing that had been gnawing at him since he had first seen her with Taryn.

The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been earlier. Maybe because now, at least, they were doing something—helping, in a small way, even if the world around them seemed like it had shifted too much already.

Taryn glanced over at him after a few moments, the flicker of something in her gaze—something unreadable. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Cassian gave a small shrug, keeping his eyes ahead as they walked. “It’s no trouble,” he said, his voice a little lighter than before. “I don’t mind.”

She didn’t respond, but the soft sound of her breath as they continued walking made it feel, for a moment, like they weren’t so far apart.

As they walked, Cassian couldn’t help but sneak glances at Taryn. There was something about her that made him feel… uneasy, though not in the way he had anticipated. She wasn’t his type, not in the way Nesta had been. Nesta had always been fierce and untouchable, her every movement demanding attention. Taryn, however, was quiet—composed in a way that Cassian hadn’t expected. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever been around.

He studied her as they walked side by side, trying to find something, anything, that would explain the pull Nesta had felt toward her. What was it about this woman that had made Nesta smile in a way she’d never smiled for him? He couldn’t see it right away.

Taryn wasn’t trying to make herself seen. She wasn’t flashy or demanding attention. Her hair was tied up simply, a few strands falling loosely around her face. The soft, subtle grace she moved with was more refined than anything Cassian was used to. There was no arrogance in her posture, no sharpness in her tone. She wasn’t like the women he was familiar with, always bold and willing to fight for their place.

He tried to push past his thoughts, but as they continued walking, the more he watched her, the more his mind ran through all the possible reasons Nesta would have chosen to open herself to Taryn. What had Taryn offered that he couldn’t? What had she given Nesta that he had failed to?

It made no sense to him. He had been there for Nesta, in every way he knew how. Yet here she was, sharing moments with someone else—someone like Taryn—someone who was soft and steady, who didn’t demand, but somehow seemed to give her what she needed.

Cassian tried to figure it out, but the answer remained just out of reach. Taryn was so different from Nesta, in every way. And yet, the thought lingered in his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. What had Nesta seen in her? Why did she look at Taryn with a kind of warmth that had never been reserved for him?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something vital. But the more he looked at Taryn, the more it gnawed at him—Nesta’s smile when she looked at her, the quiet, unspoken bond between them that Cassian couldn’t quite understand.

Cassian couldn’t hold it in any longer. His curiosity gnawed at him, and the silence between them had grown too thick for him to ignore. He cleared his throat, glancing at Taryn from the corner of his eye.

“How’s Nesta?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended, like he was afraid she might hear the desperation beneath it. “I know… everything’s been left tense between us.”

Taryn slowed her pace slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment as she took a breath. Then, with a simple shrug, she replied, “She’s okay. Really, she is. We went out to meet some friends after the Solstice, delivered more presents.” She didn’t elaborate, but there was something in her voice that told Cassian everything he needed to know—Nesta had been moving on.

Cassian felt a strange sting in his chest at the thought. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, but a bitter realization. She was living her life without him, carving out a space where he no longer fit. And, for the first time, he was starting to wonder if that was how it should be.

“Good,” he muttered, though the word felt hollow. He wasn’t sure if he meant it.

Cassian didn’t know why the word struck him so strangely. Friends. Friends? Of course, Nesta would have friends. She wasn’t incapable of connection, wasn’t completely cold or cruel—not in the way others might think. But still, he couldn’t quite picture it. Her sharp tongue and relentless glare were more likely to push people away than draw them close.

He tried to imagine it. Nesta, sitting with a group of people, laughing, talking about… what? She wasn’t the type to make small talk, to gossip about nonsense. What did she share with these so-called friends? What part of herself did they get that he hadn’t?

It was unsettling, the idea that there were pieces of her life he didn’t know about. Had she always had friends and just… not told him? Had she met them after she left? What did they see in her that made them stay? He found himself stuck in a loop, trying to reconcile the Nesta he knew with this version of her, one who had a life full of people who weren’t him.

Taryn glanced at him, her lips twitching in a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was sharp, almost pointed, and Cassian felt the weight of it as if she had peeled back the layers of his thoughts.

“She’s perfectly capable of making friends,” Taryn said smoothly, her tone light but purposeful. Her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer, as though daring him to deny it.

Cassian felt a flush creep up his neck. He shifted the bag in his hands, focusing on the ground ahead as if it held answers. “It’s not that she couldn’t,” he said quickly, almost defensively. “It’s just… Nesta is Nesta.”

Taryn raised a brow, the look on her face both amused and unimpressed. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

Cassian stumbled over his words, realizing how it must have sounded. “I just mean… she’s not the easiest person to get to know. She keeps her guard up.” He hesitated, then added, almost to himself, “She pushes people away.”

Taryn’s expression softened, but there was still steel beneath it. “And yet, some people stay. You’d be surprised how many are willing to try when they see her for who she truly is.”

The words landed heavily, and Cassian felt them settle uncomfortably in his chest. He didn’t respond, unable to shake the feeling that Taryn wasn’t just talking about Nesta’s friends but maybe even herself. Maybe especially herself.

Cassian frowned, his grip tightening slightly on the bag in his hands. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, his voice lower, more defensive. “But they don’t know her like I do. Like her family does.”

Taryn stopped walking, turning to face him fully. Her expression was unreadable, but her sharp gaze pinned him in place. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

He blinked, caught off guard by her directness. “Because I’ve been there,” he said, his tone firmer now, almost as if trying to convince himself. “Through everything. I’ve seen her at her worst, and I’ve—”

“Left her there,” Taryn cut in softly but pointedly. Her words sliced through him, leaving no room for rebuttal. “You’ve seen her, but did you ever truly try to understand her? Or did you just assume that because she’s family, you knew everything there was to know?”

Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Taryn tilted her head, studying him for a moment longer before continuing. “Nesta doesn’t let people in easily, but when she does, she’s loyal in ways most people can’t comprehend. If she’s found people who care for her, who see her for who she is now, maybe that’s something you should be glad about instead of guarded.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding. Cassian swallowed hard, the weight of them settling into the cracks he hadn’t even realized were there. He wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, he knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, the thought of anyone else knowing Nesta better than he did left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Cassian’s jaw tightened as he stopped in his tracks. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended. “You didn’t see her last solstice. What she was doing to herself. The drinking, the fighting, the way she pushed everyone away. You don’t know what it was like.”

Taryn turned to him sharply, her eyes blazing with something fierce. “Don’t I?” she snapped, her voice low and biting. “You think I wasn’t there? That I didn’t see her that way?”

Cassian froze, his mind scrambling to make sense of her words. “What are you talking about?”

“That solstice,” Taryn said firmly, stepping closer, “was the night I met Nesta. I saw her exactly as she was then—angry, hurting, and drowning in her own pain. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she downed those drinks, or how hollow her laughter sounded? You’re not the only one who’s seen her at her lowest, Cassian.”

Cassian’s throat tightened, but he didn’t look away from her glare. “Then you know what I’m talking about,” he pressed, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You know how bad it was.”

Taryn’s gaze didn’t soften, but her tone shifted, calmer yet still cutting. “I saw her that way, yes. But unlike you, I didn’t just judge her for it. I didn’t try to fix her or force her into something she wasn’t ready for. I just… listened. And maybe that’s why she started to pull herself out of that darkness—because she didn’t need someone telling her what she already knew. She needed someone who would stand beside her while she figured it out herself.”

Cassian stared at her, the weight of her words pressing against the cracks in his pride. He wanted to argue, to push back, but for the first time, he felt the sting of doubt. Had he been so focused on saving Nesta that he hadn’t stopped to ask what she actually needed?

Cassian swallowed hard, his voice hesitant as he asked, “What did she need, then?”

Taryn studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, as if the answer carried weight she wasn’t sure he could hold. Finally, she said, “She needed space. And patience. Someone who didn’t try to fix her, but who saw her for who she was—not just her anger or her pain, but all of her.”

Cassian flinched, her words hitting closer than he wanted to admit. “I… I cared about her. I still do. I thought I was helping.”

Taryn’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Maybe you were, in your way. But Nesta didn’t need someone to save her, Cassian. She needed someone who trusted her to save herself.”

Cassian felt the weight of her words settle deep in his chest. He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the truth in what she said left him speechless.

“She’s stronger than you think,” Taryn continued, her voice steady but no longer harsh. “Stronger than even she believed, back then. But she had to find that strength on her own terms. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”

Cassian looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared at the cobblestones beneath their feet. He wanted to believe he had done right by Nesta, but hearing Taryn now made him question everything. “I just wanted her to be happy,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“She is,” Taryn said simply, her voice softening just enough to be kind. “But it’s her happiness, Cassian. Not the version you wanted for her.”

The words stung, but Cassian nodded faintly, unable to argue against the truth of them.

Taryn adjusted the grocery bag in her arms and began walking again, her steps deliberate but unhurried. Cassian quickly fell into stride beside her, his thoughts racing.

“How… how was she?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended. “Last solstice, I mean. How did you two even meet?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze was fixed ahead, as if deciding how much to say. Finally, she exhaled softly. “She was… at a low point,” Taryn admitted, her voice measured. “She didn’t say much at first, but it was obvious. I could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking anyone in the eye.”

Cassian’s chest tightened at the image, the guilt surging anew. “And?”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable. “I was in a tavern,” she said bluntly. “She was sitting in a corner, drinking, glaring at anyone who came too close. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then I saw a few men trying to bother her.”

Cassian’s fists clenched at the thought, his protective instincts flaring. “And what happened?”

Taryn gave a wry smile. “She didn’t need me to intervene. She shut them down with a single look and a few choice words. It was… impressive, honestly.”

Cassian felt a mix of pride and frustration at the image. “So why did you approach her?”

Taryn’s smile faded slightly. “Because even after they left, she still looked… alone. Not just in the way she was sitting, but like it was something she carried with her.”

Cassian swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “And then?”

“I sat down,” Taryn said simply. “She tried to brush me off at first, told me to go away. But I stayed. I offered to buy her a drink—not the cheap, strong stuff she was nursing, but something that didn’t burn. And to my surprise, she didn’t argue. She just… let me.”

Cassian blinked, stunned. He could hardly imagine Nesta letting anyone do something like that, let alone a stranger. “And you just talked?”

Taryn shrugged. “Not much that first night. But enough. I told her about a band that was playing a few nights later, and I don’t know why, but I invited her. Didn’t think she’d come.” She smiled faintly. “But she did.”

Cassian fell silent, his mind replaying the story. It was so… unlike the Nesta he knew—or thought he knew. He couldn’t help but feel like he was piecing together fragments of someone he’d lost, someone who had grown into a version of herself he no longer fully recognized.

Cassian frowned, the weight of Taryn’s words settling heavily in his chest. He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “If you knew she was drinking to hurt herself,” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended, “why would you buy her another drink? Why not stop her?”

Taryn didn’t break stride, though her jaw tightened slightly. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, considering her response before she finally spoke. “Because stopping her wouldn’t have worked. Not then.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Taryn turned her head, her gaze steady and unyielding as she met his. “Do you really think she didn’t know she was hurting herself? That she didn’t already hear all the judgment from everyone around her? What she didn’t need was someone else trying to fix her. She needed someone who wasn’t going to push her away further.”

Cassian opened his mouth to argue but found he had no immediate response. Taryn’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

“I wasn’t buying her another drink to enable her,” Taryn continued, her voice firm but not unkind. “I was meeting her where she was. Showing her that she wasn’t invisible. That someone saw her, even if she didn’t want to be seen.”

Cassian’s steps faltered, his hands tightening into fists. He hated the truth in her words, hated the guilt it churned up in him. He’d spent so long trying to push Nesta to be the version of herself he thought she should be, and now he couldn’t shake the image of her sitting in that tavern, alone and hurting.

“That’s what she needed then,” Taryn said quietly. “And eventually, she started to let herself want more than the hurt.”

Cassian’s chest ached, his gaze dropping to the ground as they walked. He didn’t know how to respond, how to process the realization that someone else—someone he barely knew—had reached Nesta in a way he never could.

Taryn’s gaze softened as she walked, her voice steady but reflective. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “Nesta didn’t just let people in. At first, she was sharp, guarded… like she was waiting for me to prove I was just like everyone else who had hurt her.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened, his fists still shoved in his pockets. “That sounds like her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Taryn.

Taryn glanced at him but didn’t comment on the bitterness in his tone. “She tested me, you know,” she continued. “Sarcasm, walls built so high I wasn’t sure I’d ever get past them. But I didn’t push. I just… stayed.”

“Stayed?” Cassian repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Yes,” Taryn said simply. “I sat with her when she didn’t want to talk. I listened when she did. I didn’t pry or force her to explain herself. I let her take her time because I knew she needed to trust that I wasn’t going to leave the moment it got hard.”

Cassian’s throat felt tight. “And she let you in?”

“Eventually,” Taryn said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It took months. Months of awkward silences, of her throwing verbal barbs at me to see if I’d flinch. But little by little, she let her guard down. And when she did…” Taryn’s smile grew, warm and fond. “It was worth it. She’s worth it.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say to that. His heart twisted painfully at the thought of Nesta letting Taryn in when she had pushed him—and everyone else—so far away. He wanted to resent Taryn for it, but deep down, he couldn’t. Not when it was clear that she had been there for Nesta when no one else had.

Taryn’s voice softened as she continued, her gaze fixed ahead. “Even after she started to trust me, Nesta wasn’t ready. For relationships, for dating… anything like that.”

Cassian glanced at her, a question in his eyes, but he stayed quiet.

“She was still piecing herself back together,” Taryn said. “She didn’t need someone trying to claim her, or fix her, or even push her. She needed space to figure out who she was beyond all the pain she’d carried. So, we stayed as friends. Close friends.”

Cassian’s chest tightened. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice faintly bitter, but Taryn ignored the edge in his tone.

“She got a job,” Taryn continued, undeterred. “Started saving her money, paying off debts—even the ones no one expected her to repay. She moved into a new apartment, something small but cozy, something she could call her own. And she started exploring things she enjoyed—books, music, dancing.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed. “Dancing?”

Taryn smiled faintly. “Yes, dancing. Not in a ballroom or for anyone’s approval, but just… for herself. She loved the freedom of it. The joy.”

Cassian looked away, his throat tightening. He thought of all the times he had seen Nesta at her lowest, drowning herself in alcohol and pushing everyone away. He thought of how he had tried to pull her out of that darkness, but his methods had only driven her further away.

“She didn’t need someone to pull her out,” Taryn added, as if reading his thoughts. “She needed to climb out on her own. And she did.”

Cassian stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He didn’t know if it was anger, regret, or something else entirely that burned in his chest. But one thing was certain: Nesta had found a life beyond him, beyond the chaos they had shared. And for the first time, he realized just how far out of reach she truly was.

Cassian stopped walking, his voice coming out sharp, like a challenge he couldn’t hold back. “When did it happen?” His eyes locked onto Taryn’s, searching, as if the answer might bring him some sort of relief. “When did you two become… this close? When did you—” He paused, words faltering for a moment. “When did she start trusting you enough for all of that?”

Taryn’s expression was unreadable, but there was a soft sigh before she answered. “It didn’t happen overnight, Cassian. It took time. Months, really. I didn’t rush her. I wasn’t trying to be her savior or her therapist or her next… whatever. I just showed up. I was there when she needed someone who wouldn’t push or judge or try to make her ‘better.’”

Cassian’s fists clenched, but his voice stayed low, full of that pent-up frustration. “I was there too. I tried.”

Taryn’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped walking, her tone cool but firm. “And you know what happened when you tried, right? You pushed. You didn’t see her. You didn’t really hear her. You didn’t give her the space she needed to heal, and it drove her further away. It’s why she needed a different kind of person.”

Cassian stood frozen for a beat, trying to swallow the weight of her words. The truth had always been there, hadn’t it? He had pushed too hard, too fast, expecting things to fall back into place when she was barely standing at all. He hadn’t seen it until now—how much further he had gone to drive a wedge between them.

“When did it happen?” he repeated, quieter this time. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer, but he had to ask. He needed to know. “When did you… become what she needed?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, her gaze softened just a touch. “It wasn’t a moment, Cassian. It was a process. A lot of small moments. But if you want a specific day, it was when she told me she wanted to dance with me.” She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And that… well, that was a beautiful thing to witness.”

Cassian let out a slow breath, the air around him feeling heavy, as if he was hearing everything for the first time, but it was too late to take it back. He wanted to scream, to ask her how he could have been different, but the words stuck. All he could do was stand there, feeling the loss of her—not just as a woman, but as someone who was gone in a way he hadn’t realized until now.

Taryn’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she resumed walking, her gaze ahead of her. “She trusted me,” she said simply. “I didn’t ask her to. I just gave her the space to be who she needed to be.” She glanced at Cassian, her expression soft but firm. “We have a relationship built on honesty, Cassian. She’s bared her heart to me, everything—no holds barred.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed, the words catching in his chest. He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Everything?” He couldn’t help it, the need to know the depth of what she meant. “Even the cabin… her sisters… Feyre?”

Taryn nodded without hesitation, her gaze unwavering as she continued walking. “Yes. Everything. Nesta needed someone to listen, to understand. She had her reasons for keeping things from her family, but with me, she didn’t hold back. She told me about the cabin, about the way she felt about her family, about Feyre and what happened with her. She told me about the war, about the way things broke her—about how she thought no one cared enough to help.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “And it wasn’t easy for her. But she found a way to talk about it.”

Cassian stood silent for a moment, processing her words. There was so much he hadn’t known, so much he hadn’t realized about Nesta’s struggle. Her isolation wasn’t just about being left behind—it was about the broken pieces no one had bothered to pick up. “She never told me that,” he murmured, the hurt obvious in his tone. “She never let me in like that.”

Taryn’s smile softened. “She had to be ready, Cassian. And she wasn’t ready with you then. But she is now… in her own way, with the people who see her, who accept her as she is.” Her voice was gentle, but there was a quiet strength behind it. “You didn’t give her that. But she’s found it now.”

The words struck him like a blow. Cassian felt the sting of regret, but also the painful realization that he had never really seen Nesta for who she had become—only who she had been when they first met. “I didn’t understand her,” he admitted quietly. “Not then, not even now.”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, a flicker of empathy crossing her face. “It’s not too late, you know. But it has to be on her terms now.”

Cassian looked at Taryn, his voice raw with a mix of frustration and curiosity. “How did you do it? How did you understand her when none of us could? The cabin… we all hated her for it. Some of us still do.” He paused, trying to grasp at the answer that had been eluding him. “Why didn’t you?”

Taryn’s expression softened, and she turned her gaze toward him, her pace slowing as she considered his words. “Why would I hate her for it?” she asked quietly. “I wasn’t here, Cassian. I didn’t live the way she did. I didn’t feel the weight of every mistake she thought she’d made. I didn’t hear the things that broke her down, the way you and her sisters did. I didn’t live through the endless cycle of self-loathing that she couldn’t escape from.”

Her voice was calm but firm, as if the answer was simple to her. “So why would I hate her for something I didn’t live? Why would I judge her when I didn’t walk in her shoes, when I didn’t feel what she felt?” Taryn’s eyes met his, a quiet but powerful understanding in them. “I saw a woman who was trying to survive. She didn’t have to explain herself to me, but she did. And I didn’t turn my back on her for it.”

Taryn’s footsteps slowed even further as she spoke, her voice quiet but full of conviction. “What happened to the sisters… all of it, it was horrible. But Nesta blamed it all on herself. Everything. When she didn’t have to. She carried the weight of it like it was her burden alone, as if she had the power to stop it all.” Taryn’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced over at Cassian. “She didn’t have to, but she did.”

Cassian’s throat tightened as he heard the truth in Taryn’s words, but she wasn’t finished.

“What happened in the cabin… the things she did, what she put herself through, I would never hold it against her.” Taryn shook her head, her voice firm. “She was trying to survive, Cassian. She was suffocating, and she didn’t know how to breathe. None of you were there when it started to break her, and you weren’t there when she pulled herself out of it, either.”

Taryn shrugged, as if dismissing the weight of the conversation, but Cassian felt the words linger in his chest. He still didn’t understand, not fully, but he couldn’t argue with the sincerity in her voice. He followed her anyway, his mind still whirling with the questions, the confusion.

As they turned a corner, the street ahead seemed quieter, warmer. A cozy little neighborhood lined with homes that felt lived in. They stopped in front of one of them—a small, well-kept house. It wasn’t grand or imposing, but there was a charm to it. The brick exterior was a deep shade of red, with ivy creeping up the sides. A small garden sat in front, a few pots of flowers and greenery scattered about.

It was the kind of place that felt like it had a story to tell, and for some reason, Cassian found himself wondering if that story belonged to Nesta now.

Taryn looked up at the house, then over at Cassian. “This is it,” she said simply, her tone softer than before.

Cassian nodded, though his eyes lingered on the house. Something about it felt… real. In a way that he hadn’t expected.

Cassian’s gaze softened as he looked at the house, the quiet hope bubbling up in his chest. “Is she here?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He couldn’t help it—there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to see her again, to have a chance to talk, to maybe fix what had gone so wrong.

Taryn immediately shook her head, her lips pressing together in a firm line. “No,” she said, her tone almost apologetic. “She’s out running errands.”

Taryn took the bag from Cassian’s hands, her grip firm as she looked up at him, her gaze steady and piercing. “I heard you’ve been asking around about her,” she said, her voice calm but laced with an edge of warning. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she continued. “You should only come around when Nesta allows it, if she ever wants it. You can’t just push your way into her life, not after everything that’s happened.”

Cassian was silent, her words hitting him harder than he expected. His mind raced, thinking of how many times he’d pushed too hard, how many times he’d tried to fix things without considering what Nesta needed. It wasn’t just about him—it was about her.

Taryn turned to walk toward the house, her eyes still on him. “So, if you truly care about her, you’ll wait. You’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Cassian’s voice broke the silence, thick with something that almost sounded like vulnerability. “Do you love her?” he asked, his eyes searching Taryn’s face, desperate for some understanding, some answer he didn’t know he was looking for.

Taryn paused for a moment, her lips curving into a soft but unwavering smile. She looked at him, her gaze filled with both certainty and tenderness. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice quiet but strong. “I do.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. He had never expected such a clear answer, but it stung more than he thought it would. He opened his mouth to say something, but Taryn continued before he could speak.

“To be honest,” she said, her smile softening as her eyes turned distant with the memory, “I’m pretty sure I loved her the first moment I saw her.” She let out a breath, her fingers tightening slightly on the bag she carried. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Cassian stood frozen, the weight of her words settling on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t just the admission of love; it was the way Taryn spoke about Nesta, as if she had known her soul since the very beginning. Something in the way Taryn looked at her, something in the way she loved her, made Cassian feel like he was too late.

[rosesncarnations]

The High Ladies of Autumn

[goddessofwisdom18]

I ship Amren and Merrill 🤭 Just two bitches who love history. They definitely already know each other and had a fling a couple centuries ago. Or they hate each other (and there’s sexual tension underneath that). I’m betting on it.

[potatoplace]

Get Cozy Since We're Both Lonely

Welcome To The Family: Chapter 1 | series masterlist

chapter 2 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Nesta x Reader

Story Summary: You lost your family in the attack on Velaris by Hybern. Nesta lost her humanity and gained a tremendous amount of trauma. Together you find a grand romance between yourselves, and an unwavering commitment to help each other.

Warnings: smut-ish, smut-lite maybe? Nothing too graphic, but a looot of kissing, very horny lol

Words: ~7k

Author's Note: oh my goooood I love this SO MUUUCH SAPPHIC NESTA YES PLEASE THANK YOU BRAIN. I would very much like to have Nesta as my wifey, thank you very much. I hope you all like this! A very different vibe than what I've been writing recently lol. But yesss enjoy my sweet Nesta being treated like the lovely person that she is! (Also this ended up sooo much longer than I expected) - oh and series name is a Watsky song, and the chapter title name is lyrics from it 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

She was beautiful.

Gorgeous.

Ethereal.

A goddess brought before you, rendered into flesh, perusing the stacks of your bookstore nearly every day.

The eldest sister of your High Lady had utterly captivated you from the moment you had met her, her presence never failing to draw your eyes.

She was breathtaking, yes, but it was everything about her that kept your attention. Her tastes in literature, her coffee order - two shots of espresso poured over ice - the way she dressed, how she always had her hair pulled up, her laugh, her voice.

Each new thing you learned about her, saw in her stunning blue gray eyes made you more interested in Nesta, filling your thoughts with her.

Never before had you felt infatuated with another female, though you had felt an attraction towards some.

But Nesta?

Your thoughts revolved around her visits to your bookstore, each day spent hoping that she would walk in.

It had only been a few months since you had first met Nesta, and only a few months before that since you had lost your family.

The attack on Velaris had stolen your family from you, leaving you in charge of the bookstore and coffee shop that your family had so happily run for generations.

And now it was just you.

Meeting Nesta had been the first good thing to happen to you since that fateful day, her husky voice asking if you carried any romance novels.

From those words alone, you were a goner.

An instant blush had covered your face as you led her over to said section, reluctantly leaving her to browse the titles you carried.

You wanted to know what titles interested her.

Romance had been your own favorite genre since you had been a teenager, only a decade ago. Not what your family had teased you about them being - primarily sex with no plot. No, you preferred soft writing, filled with the gentle building of feelings and, yes, occasionally ending with a few scenes of smut. But the buildup was what you preferred, and the faithful love that the characters had built between them.

And to your absolute delight, Nesta was the same. She even binge read your favorite series, Enchanted, within a week, returning every day to pick up the next book.

Each day, you felt as though her fingers brushed against yours for slightly longer, lingering as she took her receipt.

But you weren't brave enough to ask her if she felt the same overwhelming attraction and interest that you held for her. You knew that there were some fae who enjoyed the company of the same sex, but Nesta had once been a human, and you weren't sure of how accepting they were.

So you stayed quiet, drinking in every second of her presence, giving her free refills of coffee when she chose to stay and read in one of the cozy armchairs you had in front of the fireplace.

Every day you saw her kept your mind off the gaping void in your chest, filling you with warmth. The only other thing that came close to the same effect as Nesta had was the novels that had become your life. Every new book that passed into your store caught your attention, giving you something to fill your mind with.

Today has been hard. Eight months since your family had been slaughtered, and the sky was weeping with you. Hardly any customers had entered your building, for which you were thankful. Your eyes were blurry more often than they weren't, tears slipping down your face, so similarly to the rain sliding down the windows.

Rarely did you drink, but you found yourself at Rita's that night, looking for something to soothe your pain in a way that written words could not. Two vodka cranberries later, and the noise of the bar had become a pleasant thing, your head bobbing to the music.

Someone slid onto the stool next to you. "I'll have a gin and tonic, please," the familiar, rich voice said from your left.

A turn of your head confirmed that it was Nesta who had sat next to you, dressed in a high necked, long sleeved dark purple dress. Your could just see her black heeled boots, hooked on the bar of the stool.

As usual, she looked fantastic. Her hair was braided and pinned into a crown around her head, her eyes sparkling with a bit of pale lavender eyeshadow.

"Hello, Y/N. I've never seen you in here before," Nesta said once she had noticed your eyes on her.

"Ah, I uhm... I don't go out too often, anymore," you replied, your voice a bit shaky. "Do you come here often?"

"Every now and then, when I don't feel like spending my evenings in solitude," Nesta explained, the hints of a smile starting to show. "And I should feel lucky, then, that I happened to be here the same night you decided to come out."

"Oh?" You asked, a bit of heat rising to your cheeks. "Have you been hoping to see me here?"

The hints had turned to a full blown grin, a stunning sight on her.

You would do anything to see it again.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I wanted to ask you about something," Nesta said, a hint of... heat? In her voice.

You bit your lip. "And?"

Nesta's eyes flicked away from yours briefly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Your heartbeat quickened, more blood coming to your cheeks. Before her? You had hoped. After her? You knew. "I do."

Nesta's eyes crinkled, warmth flooding them. "That's funny, I do too." The bartender set Nesta's drink in front of her, and she took a long sip. "I wasn't sure about it for a while, but I think I'm convinced now."

"Really? What changed?" You asked, slightly breathless, both from anticipation and having drank more than you had in couple of months.

Nesta's soft laugh had you melting, your body leaning in her direction, breathing in a bit of her snow and fire scent - quite possibly more intoxicating than the drinks you'd had.

"You. I can't- I have never wanted to be around someone, or wanted someone as much as I want you," Nesta breathed, blush coloring her cheeks as she stared into your eyes, her confession hanging between the two of you.

A smile spread across your lips. "That's good, perfect, actually. I feel the same, Nesta," you admitted, drinking in the way her eyes lit up at your words.

"I'm glad to hear that we're in agreement," Nesta said, finishing the rest of her drink before standing. "Dance with me?" She asked, holding out one of her elegant hands for you to take.

You did in a heartbeat, savoring the warmth of her hand in yours.

You were an awful dancer, but with Nesta next to you, those soft laughs and shining eyes directed at you, you didn't mind embarrassing yourself a bit. Not when she kept pulling you in close, your chests pressed together, lips hovering an inch apart as you gazed up at her, your eyes locked together.

The night passed in a blur of dancing and stumbling back to your apartment, arms locked tightly together in the cool May night. Into your bookstore, past the coffee bar, bookshelves, up the stairs and into your apartment.

Somehow you ended up on the couch, both of you barefooted, hands hovering over each other - afraid to make first contact.

"I... I've never... Done this," Nesta gestured between you. "Before."

You could hear the nerves in her voice now that you were alone together, in the quiet of your living room.

"I haven't either," you admitted with a shy smile. "But it... Are you okay?"

Nesta's lips tilted up. "I'm okay. Just... a tad nervous," she whispered.

Your nose scrunched when your smile widened. "I am too. We can be nervous together," you giggled, happy to see Nesta's expression matching your own. You let your hands touch her, one resting on her right shoulder, the other falling to her left arm, a thumb rubbing over the soft fabric of her dress. Nesta's eyes flicked down before returning to your face, a light blush crawling over her cheeks.

She let her own arms fall over your shoulders, hands toying with the curls of your hair, nails brushing gently against your scalp. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the sensation sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

When they opened again, Nesta's face was closer, her eyes darting down to your lips.

You took the plunge, bringing your lips to hers. Soft, plush, exactly how you'd imagined they would feel. It was a kiss just like those you had read about, gentle and tender, full of hope and longing. You let your arms encircle Nesta as she pulled your closer, one of her hands gently fisted in your hair and the other pressing against your back.

When you parted, it was just barely, your lips hovering next to each other as you breathed in the same air, cheeks flushed as your eyes met.

"I think... Being nervous together is a good idea," Nesta breathed, a giggle leaving your lips.

"I agree." You kissed her again, this one just as sweet but firmer, more sure. Your mouths fit perfectly together, moving in tandem without a thought, only pulling away to reposition. Nesta gently pulled you over her lap, your legs straddling hers, lips returning to yours as soon as you were settled, chests pressed together. Her hands returned to your hair, keeping you close as your own cradled the back of her head.

You couldn't get enough of her, get close enough to her. And it seemed as though she was in the same state, keeping you pulled into her even when you parted for breath.

It was when one of her hands snaked underneath your shirt, running up the line of your spine that you let out a soft gasp, hand clutching at her shoulder. Your cheeks somehow colored further, but Nesta seemed delighted by the noise. Her fingers feathered over your spine again, eyes drinking in the way yours fluttered from her touch.

"Sensitive?" She asked, her voice deep, needy.

"Mhm." A scrape of her fingernails had your spine arching, pressing you further against her. "Not fair," you mumbled.

"Mm, you'll just have to find my sweet spots, love," Nesta whispered lowly in your ear. She pressed a gentle kiss to it, then a slow trail down your neck, hand continuing its slow path along your spine.

"Is that a challenge?" You asked breathily, tilting your neck to give her better access.

"More like an invitation."

Your heart stuttered. "I'll definitely be taking you up on that," you whispered, a soft moan leaving your lips when Nesta's lips sucked on your neck gently.

Your head dropped to her shoulder, arms tightening around her. You felt like jelly already, and you hadn't even taken your clothes off.

"Which way to the bedroom, Y/N?" Nesta asked once she relinquished your neck, peppering small kisses along it.

"Mm... Behind the couch," you said, distracted by how intoxicating Nesta was proving herself to be.

Nesta chuckled softly into your ear. "Care to show me?"

You pulled away from her slightly, meeting her eyes. Absolutely stunning, and full of lust. You nodded, and managed to pull yourself off of her, albeit reluctantly. In the few seconds it took to lead her into your bedroom, you missed her warmth and gentle touch.

The faelights in your room came to life as you entered, softly illuminating your room.

You were glad you had made your bed this morning.

Nesta's hands on your waist turned you around, pulling you back into her and into a kiss, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

The alcohol still running through your veins made it easy to pull it off of you, leaving your breasts covered in just a bralette, Nesta's fingers quickly running over the fabric.

"You are absolutely stunning," Nesta said softly. "And you'll have to let me know where you got this," she demanded as she tugged on one of the straps with one hand.

"I think you'll like the matching panties then, too," you giggled, pulling her lips to yours.

"Oh really? How about we find out?" Nesta asked, gently pushing you to the bed, a playful fire in her eyes.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, letting her push you onto the bed, her body following soon after.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Waking was a slow process, your bed warmer and cozier than you ever remembered it being.

It was only when you registered soft breathing coming from in front of you that you remembered the previous night, a smile coming to your lips.

Nesta.

Your eyes fluttered open, met with the sight of her sleeping in front of you. You felt her arm draped over your side, hand against your back.

You had never felt more comfortable or at peace.

Still, the light filtering in through the curtains told you it was past the time you normally woke to open the bookstore, and you had to slowly pull yourself from Nesta's grasp, much to your dismay.

You would much rather stay here, wrapped up with her forever.

You had just finished washing up and dressing in the bathroom when you heard Nesta moving about. Opening the door, you saw that she had sat up in your bed, sheets pulled to her chest.

"Morning," you said quietly as you left the bathroom, standing between it and the bed, unsure of how to proceed.

"Morning, Y/N," Nesta said, her voice still thick with sleep.

You bit your lip, wishing in that moment that you could read minds. "So... Do..." you paused. "Do you want to do this again?"

Nesta blinked at you a few times, before a small smile slid across her face. "I'd like that," she answered quietly. She almost seemed... Shy.

"How about... tonight?" You asked, delighted when she immediately shook her head yes.

"I'd love that, Y/N. When should I come by?"

"Mm, I normally close the store around six, so you could come by then. Would... Would you like to go to dinner?"

"That sounds lovely, Y/N. Six it is," Nesta confirmed, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

"Perfect, Nesta. I've got to go open the shop, but feel free to bathe if you'd like. I'll see you downstairs," you said, a smile glued to your face as you took in your last look at her before you left the room.

Her hair was still in its style from last night, but strands of it were poking out in some places.

She took your breath away, even when ruffled by sleep.

Opening the store went smoothly, luckily with no customers already waiting outside.

Less than half an hour later, Nesta came downstairs, clothed again in her dress from last night, looking just as beautiful.

"Coffee?" You asked, already making her usual drink for her.

"Yes, please," she sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "I don't think I drank enough water last night," she said with a soft laugh, warmth rushing straight to your heart.

"I'll make sure you do in the future," you said lightly.

Nesta smiled at you, her eyes crinkling. "I'd like that."

You bit your lip as you grinned at her, passing her coffee over, your hand lingering on hers. "I'll see you tonight?"

Nesta nodded. "I'll see you tonight, Y/N."

She left your store, taking one last glance over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

You were grinning like an idiot, absolutely thrilled with how well last night had went, no matter how unexpected it had been.

Your date that night went perfectly, ending with the two of you snuggled up in bed after a vigorous make out session, both of you too tired to do much more.

The two of you ended up going to dinner the next night.

And the next.

And the next.

Soon enough, you had spent an entire month together, wrapped in each other's presences. You could safely say you were falling for her, or had fallen for her, or that you were madly in love with her already. All of them were true, as your love continued to grow each and every day, with every passing second you spent with her.

One of your favorite memories so far was yesterday, when the two of you had a picnic by the Sidra, a soft blanket spread out beneath you and a basket loaded full of your favorite pastries, cheeses, fruit, and smoked meats, and a bottle of sparkling wine that the two of you shared.

Together you had read the newest romance novel to arrive at your shop, spending the entire day together with the babbling of the river as your chosen music.

Eventually the two of you had packed up and gone back to her apartment, her large bathtub the most recent place you had made love.

Over your perfect first month together, you had noticed... Nesta seemed to be struggling. There were days that she couldn't keep a train of thought, wrapped up in the memories that you assumed were not pleasant ones. Sometimes she snapped at you over the smallest things, normally something to do with noise.

You never blamed her, knowing that she had gained an entirely new set of senses in the past year... But you wanted to love her. To help her. In any way that you could.

So today, after much prodding and gentle suggestion, you were taking Nesta to the office your own therapist worked at.

Not to your therapist, of course, but to one of the many other trusted trauma mind healers that Velaris had.

"You said I can leave if I want, right?" Nesta asked, her voice a bit shaky.

"Of course. The first session is normally pretty light, mainly getting your back story and what you'd like to work on. And their rooms have silencing wards on them so no one else will hear anything. And the files they keep are spelled so only your therapist can read them unless you give permission. Not even the High Lord."

You knew you were overexplaining, but it had been the only way so far to talk Nesta into getting some kind of help, along with your offered bribe of massages after every session she did. And she had been nervous about her brother in law possibly accessing the files... You weren't entirely certain on their relationship, but on the few nights you hadn't had dinner together, she had gone to her family dinners. And those nights, she tended to come to your apartment in an off mood, like the confidence had been squished out of her.

So you made certain she knew any information she gave her healer would be safe, unable to be accessed unless she allowed it.

Nesta sighed, but let you lead her into the office anyways. "I want lots of cuddling, too," she whispered as the pair of you approached the receptionist's counter.

"Whatever you want, cutie," you agreed, giving her a peck on the cheek. "We're here for an appointment, for Nesta," you said to the receptionist, squeezing Nesta's hand back when she gripped yours tighter.

"Alright, I'll let your healer know," the female behind the counter said, and gestured towards the sitting area. "Go ahead and take a seat, she'll be out for you soon."

"Thank you," you said, leading Nesta over to a couch and wrapping an arm around her. "I'm so proud of you, Nes. Really, it's hard to start this stuff... It took me a long time to get myself in."

A light blush dusted Nesta's cheeks at your words, but she didn't fight them. "Thank you, love. I'm... I'm glad you convinced me..." she whispered, her voice still filled with nerves.

A door swung open, revealing a middle aged high fae female. "Nesta?"

You gave her a big smile before urging her to get up, blowing her a kiss before she disappeared behind the door.

The hour passed by slowly, each minute lightening the worry in your heart. You had been a bit worried about Nesta leaving the appointment five minutes in, but after a half an hour, you were certain that she would make it through the entire session.

To your relief, she did. When she walked out, her eyes were a bit red, but she waved goodbye to the female and promised to meet her next week. Pride swelled in your chest at that, so happy that your love was ready to commit to help.

She walked over to you, arms extended, and without hesitating you gave her a big hug, squeezing her tight.

"How'd it go, love?"

"Good... Hard, but it was... It was nice to talk."

You smiled gently at her, eyes holding her gaze. "I'm glad, Nes. I think you'll enjoy it. *And I'm excited to give you a massage," you giggled, pulling her out of the office and back into the streets.

Nesta laughed, and even if it was still a bit sad, you took it as a win. "I'm excited for that too, honey."

You flushed at the pet name- she had rarely called you that outside of the privacy of your bedroom. It brought up... heated memories.

Nesta knew that, and pinched your ass as she practically chased you back home. As soon as you were shut in your apartment, she threw her dress off, leaving her in just her undergarments, and laid down on the couch. "Massage please," Nesta said, her slight whine so cute that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, my love," you giggled, crawling on top of her so you could start easing the tension from her back and shoulders.

Over the next two weeks, both you and Nesta continued seeing each other whenever you were able, and Nesta started going to see her healer twice a week, already making some strides in learning to manage her trauma.

It was a Wednesday night when you said it. You had both clumsily cooked chicken alfredo, both of you mediocre at cooking at best, so it was a surprise it came out decent at all. The process had probably taken longer than it needed to, with how often the two of you stopped to kiss and touch each other.

It was over dinner that it slipped out, so casually that it shocked even you.

Nesta had just told you a joke about - you couldn't even remember what it was about - but you had laughed so hard, a laugh that was pure joy.

"Mother, I love you," you said, clearly, boldly.

Nesta's eyes widened slightly, and in the few seconds she didn't respond your heart sank into the floor, in the earth.

"I- I love you too," Nesta said softly, a gentle expression on her face.

You grinned and grabbed one of her hands, pressing a firm kiss to the top of it. "You do?"

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you playfully before smiling at you. "I do, Y/N."

"Good. That makes me just as happy as loving you makes me," you cooed, standing from your chair and going over to her. "I hope you know how lucky I consider myself to have you in my life."

Nesta flushed bright red at your admission, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. "I- I don't understand how I got you," Nesta whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I'm such a-" she sniffled. "A bad person."

You sank to your knees in front of her, hands cupping her face. "Hey- that is not true at all Nesta. You are so wonderful, and caring, and kind. You are an amazing person, Nesta. And you have me because you are an amazing person. I love you for who you are, Nessie." You hoped your eyes conveyed just how much your cherished her, cared for her, loved her.

Nesta was quiet for a minute, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "Really?"

You smiled at her lovingly. "Really. Now, if anyone said those words to you, I will go beat the crap out of them for you. You do not deserve to hear those words. And if it was you that said them to yourself, well, I'll make sure you know every day just how amazing you are," you offered.

Nesta laughed weakly. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll be able to handle it. Though you praising me... I think I can handle that," she said, her lips just barely tilting up.

"Well, let me start right now. You are so sweet, and you know how to cook just as well as I do, aaand you know exactly how to cheer me up when I'm having a tough day," you said, rising up a bit to pepper kisses over Nesta's wet cheeks. Her eyes closed and nose wrinkled as you did so, allowing you to press a light kiss over each eye, causing her to laugh.

"Okay, okay. You can stop," Nesta giggled, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and sweet. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

"You're welcome, my love. Now... How about dessert?" You asked, quirking a brow at her. "Snuggles? Kisses? Actually dessert?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, but stood from her chair and pulled you towards the bedroom. "How about all three? And maybe a bit more?" She asked in a sultry tone.

"A bit more would be lovely."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Another month passed in almost complete bliss, your life with Nesta falling perfectly into place. Therapy was going well for both of you, and you felt more alive than you had ever since you lost your family.

Nesta was the sun in your life, even when it was raining. Her presence never failed to make you happy, and you loved that you seemed to do the same for her. She was still struggling some days, but she seemed to be better at pulling herself out of it and processing what was wrong.

That alone made you beam with pride, how far she had come in trying to heal.

Every morning now, Nesta helped you open the bookstore, and you had even taught her how to make the drinks you serve in the small café. For most of the day, she read in an armchair next to the fire, and helped you restocked books.

You had mentioned something about needing to pay her for her work, but Nes had adamantly refused, claiming that her time with you was more than enough payment.

So instead, you gave her any books she wanted for free. Most of the time, the books stayed in the building, simply making their way up to your apartment, normally to your bedside tables.

Today, Nesta was out at the High Lord and Lady's house, attending one of the weekly family dinners she was seemingly required to attend.

You didn't mind, of course, you thought that Nesta being close with her sisters was extremely important. It's just...

Every week, she tended to have a bad day after their dinners, and you were... Well, you were concerned that something nefarious was happening there, something that was hurting Nesta. Whatever it was, she had refused to talk to you about it as of now.

So tonight, you'd made yourself a simple salad with a bit of grilled chicken on it, and had a quiet bubble bath while you waited for Nesta to come home.

You'd nearly fallen asleep while reading in bed by the time she came into the bedroom.

"Marry me."

That woke you up, book forgotten as you sat up.

"What?" You asked, heart thudding in your chest.

"Marry me, Y/N," Nesta said again, striding across the room to your bedside. "I don't-" she took a deep, steadying breath. "I don't ever want to spend another day without you, and I don't want to spent another day not married to you."

You were breathing faster now, heart racing in your chest as she spoke. "Really?"

Nesta grinned at you. "Really."

You bolted out of bed and into her arms, letting her spin you in a circle. "Yes! Yes, yes yes, Nessie!" You exclaimed, planting a kiss on her lips once you stilled.

Both of you had rosy cheeks from your excitement, and matching toothy smiles as you stared at each other.

"So... Want to go track down a priestess with me?" Nesta asked, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you said, already moving to the closet to get changed.

"Oh, no, I think you should go just like this," Nesta whispered in your ear as she wrapped her arms around you, one hand resting on your stomach and the other in between your breasts.

You giggled at the suggestion. "Nessie I'm in a nightgown, and a skimpy one at that."

"All the better, just wear a long coat over it," Nesta said between the soft kisses she was placing on your neck.

"As much as you would enjoy the view, I'd much rather be in a pretty and slightly more appropriate dress, love." You started flicking through your options, though you were very distracted by the female behind you, still loving on the skin of your neck.

"I suppose I could change as well, put on something a bit more elegant," Nesta said, pulling away from your neck.

"Mm, we could dress and undress each other for our wedding."

"That's just what I was thinking, honey." Nesta began flipping through her own wardrobe that she'd begun to leave here, quickly settling on a long sleeved dress that would reach her ankles, made of a beautiful silk. It was one of the dresses that you absolutely adored her in, but almost never made it out of the house, or even the bedroom.

"Oh, Nes, you know that after this that dress will absolutely never see the light of day again because I will keep you in here with me for hours, right?"

Nesta chuckled from beside you as she began undressing. "I was counting on that, baby."

You rolled your eyes playfully at her before picking out the dress you would wear. You didn't have near as many fancy dresses as Nesta did, but the silk wrap dress that reached your knees would be nice enough for the occasion. It was in a light lavender, with a ribbon to tie around your waist.

"Love, I could say the exact same thing about your choice. You look fantastic in that dress, I think maybe we'll have to have a little reenactment once a month or so," Nesta said once she eyed the dress you had picked.

You kissed her firmly, pouring all of your love into it. "We just might. Now, let's get dressed quickly so that we can find a priestess before they're all asleep," you said, lightly pulling her dress off its hanger.

It may not have been quick, but you and Nesta both got changed into your chosen outfits, with many kisses and gentle touches exchanged in the process.

"Oh- do we have rings?" You asked just as you left the bookstore, locking it behind you.

Nesta froze for a moment. "No. Shit, how could I have forgotten the rings...?" She muttered.

"That's fine, I'm sure someone will be open in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, and it's on the way to the Temple," you told her, grasping her hand and pulling her in that direction.

Sure enough, there were a few vendors that were just about to pack up, and one of them happened to have a display filled with gorgeous rings, some even shown as a matching set.

Together you picked out a matching set of rings, designed with a thin silver band and a small, pale pink diamond in the center. Simple but elegant, with silver for Nesta and pink for you.

The next task in your list to get married was easily accomplished, with the Temple of Night still buzzing with priestesses. One of them, Rosanna, who you had spoken with at your store before, and was more than willing to help you and Nesta on short notice.

With excitement buzzing in your veins, you and Nesta walked hand in hand into the ceremony room, the vaulted ceiling made entirely of glass and pouring moonlight into the room.

Rosanna stood behind the altar in the center of the room, and gestured for the two of you to stand on either side of it.

Once you were in your places, Rosanna lit the three candles on the altar, letting them burn for a minute before speaking.

"Hold your hands together over the flames, please," she requested, and the two of you complied, sharing happy smiles as your eyes met. "The Mother has brought the two of you together with the strings of fate, and with those very strings you choose to bind yourselves for eternity. Tonight you have decided to share your souls, binding them under the moonlight for better or for worse, never to be parted. The flames beneath your hands represent the trials you might face in your shared lives, but with each other, you will persevere. Do you have vows prepared?"

Nesta spoke first, tears shining in her eyes. "In the time that I have known you, Y/N, you have always helped me, cared for me, and shared your love with me. I hope to always return your affections, to keep you safe, and make you happy. I love you, Y/N, and I will always love you."

By the time Nesta finished her vows, tears were streaming down your face, and you were barely able to pull yourself together to say your own.

"Nesta, you have always been a bright light in my life, bringing me joy even if just with a passing smile or a brush of your hand. You have helped me feel alive again, and have made my life so much happier and lively since we have been together. I love you forever, no matter what."

Now both of you were crying, hands squeezed tightly together over the warmth of the candles.

"The Mother sees your devotion, and blesses this union. You may now kiss the bride," Rosanna said cheerily, watching as you and Nesta raised your clasped hands so that your faces could meet over the flames, a gentle joining of your lips the first kiss of your married life. Together, you blew out the flames, only then releasing your hands. You slid Nesta's onto her ring finger, appreciating how perfect it looked on her. Nesta did the same for you, rubbing her thumb over it once it was securely on your finger.

"Now, who will be taking the other's last name?"

"I'll take Nesta's," you answered quickly, grinning at your now wife. "It would be strange for you to not be Nesta Archeron," you said softly. "And... I'd like to take your last name."

Nesta's light blush was enough of an answer for you, but she confirmed it for Rosanna anyways. "Y/N will be taking my last name."

"That's wonderful. I hope the two of you have a wonderful marriage, Mrs and Mrs Nesta Archeron," Rosanna said formally. "And Y/N, I'll be expecting a coffee as my payment for this," Rosanna teased with a wink before leading the two of you out of the temple. "Now go, enjoy your first night as a married couple!"

You and Nesta giggled softly together, but did as she said, stopping in at Rita's for one drink each. After that, you headed straight home, more than ready to have a long night together. Nesta's wandering hands made themselves known on the walk, pinching your ass every now and then.

By the time you made it into your apartment, Nesta's hands were already untying the ribbon of your dress, her lips on your throat.

Oh yes, it would be a long night.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

The next morning, you decided to keep the store closed, staying in with your new wife instead.

Somehow, that title had made Nesta even more attractive to you, which you had previously thought impossible. You woke before her, and just laid staring at her beautiful face as she slept.

Of course, she had gently swatted at you when she realized you had been watching her sleep, but you only laughed and nuzzled into her, relishing in the soft whimpers she let out when you licked at her neck.

"Good morning, my sweet wife," you whispered in her ear. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a goddess," Nesta said softly, turning so she was facing you. "I think that's due to my pretty little wife sleeping next to me."

You blushed at her words, loving this new title you had for one another. "Mm, I think so too. Having you next to me always makes my sleep better."

Nesta let out a pleased huff, her eyes drifting closed. "That's good, love." She yawned wide, her body going taught before relaxing even more in your arms.

You loved when Nesta was sleepy, she was always so adorable.

"Don't go back to bed, Nessie, I wanted to make breakfast together," you whined quietly, without any real force behind it. If you tried, you could likely fall back asleep in Nesta's embrace.

"Mm, only if you find a way to make me wake up," Nesta replied, yawning halfway through.

An idea sparked in your head.

You gently pushed Nesta back onto her back, ignoring her huffy breaths of protest in favor of crawling beneath the blankets, settling yourself between her legs.

She would be better than breakfast.

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

Your first five days of marriage, you hardly left your apartment. If you did, it was for you and Nesta to run the bookstore, only managing it for a couple of hours at a time before you slipped back upstairs after turning over the open sign in the window.

It was absolute bliss, getting to know Nesta even better, hearing more about what she wanted from a marriage. Someone who is not only her partner, but also her best friend, and someone that she can trust.

You were happy to say that you fit the bill.

It was on your sixth day that Nesta paced around your apartment before you had even woken.

"What's up, Nessie?" You asked her, peeling yourself out of bed to stop her in her tracks.

"Somehow-" Nesta paused, taking a calming breath. "Somehow my family found out about our wedding, and they... They want to meet you," she explained, a distraught look on her face.

"I... Is that a bad thing...?" You asked hesitantly.

Nesta nodded, but panicked when she saw your face fall at her answer. "Not because of you! It's because of them. I don't... I don't know how they'll react. I don't care, but I don't want you to be hurt," Nesta clarified.

"Oh, Nes. I'm sure I'll be fine, and if they say anything rude, we can just leave. Right?"

Nesta's face scrunched up in the way she did when she wasn't happy with the outcome, but had to accept it anyway. "I suppose..."

"And if they don't say anything rude, then it will have been a nice gesture of them to care enough to meet me," you said, swiping a thumb soothingly across her cheek.

Nesta sighed. "I guess you're right... So... tomorrow at seven?"

You smiled. "I'll be ready, Nes. Now - I thought that today we could move the rest of your things in here, if you'd like?" You said, attempting to not only distract her from tomorrow, but get her to fully live with you.

It worked, warmth flooding Nesta's lovely blue-gray eyes. "I'd love to, honey."

Once you managed to keep yourselves clothed long enough, moving Nesta's things into your apartment went smoothly. A few extra bookshelves, filled with Nesta's own collection, made its way into your shared apartment, along with all of Nesta's clothes. Beyond that, she didn't have many things, as most of the furniture had come with her apartment.

The rest of the day was spent in privacy, a clumsily made stew your dinner for the day, with more time spent kissing and giggling than actually cooking.

The next morning, Nesta had woken you up with her tongue between your legs, an orgasm rolling through you before you were fully aware of what was happening. You spent the day paying her back, feasting on her as she read some of the more graphic scenes in your favorite series, loving how her hand in your hair guided you.

By the time dinner rolled around you had bathed twice, the second time only being needed after Nesta had pinned you against a wall and sucked marks onto your neck and shoulders, which had faded into pale yellow marks by the time you arrived in front of the High Lord and Lady's newest residence.

The River House.

From what you could see from the outside, the interior was cozy and slightly informal, and you could already hear roaring laughter from within as you stood hand in hand with Nesta in front of the large front doors.

"Are you ready?" Nesta asked quietly. "Because if you aren't, we can-"

"Nessie, it's going to be fine. Now, let's get inside, the sooner we do the sooner we can go home," you said, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. "Now, do you want to knock, or should I?"

Nesta shook her head at you and smiled. "I love you," she said as she knocked on the thick wood.

"I love you too."

🤍🩶🤍🩶🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

[witch-and-her-witcher]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going! Thank you to everyone who tagged me and have had me in their inspo sections, I adore each and every one of you!

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

518,691 (hoping to add another 3-4k to this before midnight hehe)

I CANNOT drop that number without thanking the fucking dream team who has read EVERY SINGLE PUBLISHED WORD of mine: @popjunkie42 and @climbthemountain2020. From cheerleading, to pumping the breaks when my run ons be running, I appreciate the ever-loving hell out of both of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Honorable mention betas who hold up that number: @cauldronblssd, @wilde-knight, @thesistersarcheron, and @rosanna-writer. I truly appreciate every one of you babes and your critical, brilliant eyes on my self indulgent streams of thought.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

21! 13 of those were one shots.

If I can be real, I have two multi-chapter WIPs sitting in my docs, but it felt too irresponsible to post those once I started getting buried in grad school.

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Heading into the new year, I have 2 in progress fics: Ruin Me for the Fourth Wing fandom and Who's Gonna Know You Like Me? for ACOTAR.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Any of my poly fics! I really have to thank @acourtofladydeath for her beautiful brain child @polyacotarweek for getting me into the poly mind set. Although I only wrote throuples for that week (and since aside from the background Nesta/Eris/Azriel/Cassian in Who's Gonna Know You Like Me?), I am interested in writing more complex poly pairings in 2025.

I also can't leave out @yanny-77, @copperfirebird and @hockeyspiral23 for supporting the violaiden obsession! I adore writing the three of them together so so much and it's so fun to have others to share the brain rot with!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I had never done a true canon rewrite before dripping in gold! It was so so fun taking an in text scene and making it queer as hell.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

It's undeniable that A Court of Chaos and Darkness's reception took me by surprise. From the moment I couldn't shake the concept of the fic to the over one hundred kudos it received before I took it off of anon. But even more so, the absolute comfort blanket this fic was as I wrote it was shocking. Something in the healing occurring, in the recognition of the complexity of parenting and the messiness of the parent/child relationship really struck me.

The fic @revenge??? I love you filthy azris lovers. This was an outlet for some of my dating app blunders and shenanigans and you all really said "serve."

And then there's my first omegaverse fic and the first of it's kind in the Fourth Wing ao3 tag (when it was posted, I believe there's several more now!): so what now? The Fourth Wing fandom has been warm as hell and so inviting to me, but you have all really embraced me bringing weird into the tags and I just can't thank you enough as I gape at the stats.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Either of my sapphic fics: dripping in gold (genderbent feysand) and lunch. (morlain ft the mommy kink tag!)

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are so, so many talented artists that inspire me! @thrumugnyr, @copypastus , @queercontrarian and @lucychanart have been my muses for all things Tamlin. @climbthemountain2020 and @wilde-knight are triple threats and their art brings me such joy! There's also @dustjacketdraws that always has primo Cassian and Nesta vibes!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, my babe @popjunkie42. I love you, my muse. Something about reading your writing and just chatting with you inspires all of my ideas to flow. @asnowfern is another muse and writer I can always turn to for inspiration, we were just recalling her Turning Darkness Into Light elucien spooktober fic that tickles my imagination so much among her other works!

I'm inspired and impressed endlessly by @climbthemountain2020 ability to flawlessly produce well developed, gorgeously vivid stories.

@highlordofkrypton, @missfckingfortune and @beesays inspire me constantly with their raw talent and skill and for the first two, the hot and steamy smut they can turn out. @jules-writes-stories inspires me with her OC work and beautifully layered plots (Mithras, my toxic love.) @c-e-d-dreamer inspires me with her fun AU worlds, but also with her fearlessness to tackle toxic relationships - @secret-third-thing is in this same boat as well as @iftheshoef1tz, @foundress0fnothing, and of course the OGs @thesistersarcheron, @whisperingmidnights, @separatist-apologist and @the-lonelybarricade.

There are so many more of you. I love this community and the inspiration that flows all around your creative, galaxy brained minds.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

SO many, but those I haven't mentioned yet who are so so talented (but not limited to this list): @dusk-muse, @chairofchaos, @shadowsandlint, @xxvalkyriesxx, @fourteentrout, and @littedidyouknow.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

None this year, but the idea is fun!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself is my proudest accomplishment this year by far. I always told myself I couldn't: write OCs, write a longfic, or write a fic that would ever break the UNBELIEVABLE stats this fic has done. I proved myself wrong on every front.

Thank you so much to @asnowfern, @popjunkie42 and @wilde-knight for seeing me through this capstone fic and for believing in me and helping me see myself in a totally different light.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Be as silly and self-indulgent as possible.

If you have a killer idea/dialogue line/etc - WRITE IT DOWN. YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER IT LATER.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who make you feel like you can accomplish anything and you will never fail because there they will be, gassing you up flop or not.

I love you, harem. Writing is so fun BECAUSE of you. <3

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Continuing to eat, serve and let the haters drown in it.

[nikachansstuff]

The full transition from Moriel to Elriel

Okay, hold my poddle, I’m going in!

I finally finish my rereading of ACOWAR and I wanted to do a breakdown of how Elain’s rescue took place and how, in my opinion, that was SJM’s attempt to switch the narrative from Moriel to Elriel, setting up the couple for the next books.

I’ll be pointing all the loose threads between Azriel and Elain to create a romantic plot-line and the solutions presented to us.

Full time line

-> First loose thread: Elain’s love for Graysen.

-> Solution: Elain is rejected by Graysen and this rejection is the cause of her abduction. Emphasis in the wording choice for this moment:

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, still marry her-and that love would trump even a mating bond.

Chapter 55

-> Second loose thread: Clarification of Platonic or Romantic interest between Azriel and Elain.

-> Solution (1/3) : Make Azriel the one to notice Elain’s absence from camp when she is taken by Hybern.

But Azriel asked softly, "What about Elain?" Something cold went through me. Nesta was just staring at Azriel. Staring and staring-Then she broke into a run. Her bare feet slid through the mud, splattering me as we charged for our sister's tent. "Elain—" Nesta shoved open the tent. She stopped short so fast I slammed into her. The tent-the tent was empty. Nesta flung herself inside, tossing away blankets, as if Elain had somehow sunk into the ground. "Elain!"

Chapter 63

-> Solution (2/3): Make Azriel the one to rescue Elain from enemies lines, in a suicide mission.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, "I'm getting her back." Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, "Then you will die." Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, "I'm getting her back."

Chapter 64

Azriel slid back the curtain—Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us—Azriel and me—I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on — Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. "You came for me." The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

Chapter 65

-> Solution (3/3): Give romantic tones to the rescue, with Azriel cradling Elain in his chest and Elain giving his a kiss.

The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he'd slapped on it. […] Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, "We need Helion to get these chains off her." Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek.

Chapter 65

-> Final loose thread: What about Mor?

-> Solution: Clarify Moriel relationship, stating Mor doesn’t love him romantically, creating a whole sapphic plot line for Mor. The most interesting in this solution, is that this clarification happens immediately after the rescue take place, in chapter 66.

Her [Mor] voice broke as she said, "I don't love Azriel." I remained perfectly still. Listening. "No, that's not true, either. I-I do love him. As my family. And sometimes I wonder if it can be ... more, but ... I do not love him. Not the way he—he feels for me." The last words were a trembling whisper. "Have you ever loved him? That way?" "No." She wrapped her arms around herself. "No. I don't ... You see..." I'd never seen her at such a loss for words. She closed her eyes, fingers digging into her skin. "I can't love him like that." "Why?" "Because I prefer females."

Chapter 66

The way each event takes place chronologically shows how each one was very intentional to create a new narrative.

But what about Lucien? Elain and Lucien bond is an essential part of rejecting a mating bond plot. It’s not a loose thread, it’s a major factor in the Elriel romance.

If I had your attention, thank you for reading my thoughts again!

[daycourtofficial]

Pairing: Fem!Eris x Elain | WC: 2k | Content Warnings: some Mor slander for the plot

Summary: Elain Archeron is in a not so secret relationship with her girlfriend, Eris Vanserra. A fact her younger sister is still confused by, despite her ‘good’ intentions.

Author’s note: I have never done a genderbend fic before but I cannot resist giving one of Erislain’s biggest supporters some sapphic Erislain it’s what she deserves actually happy holidays @secret-third-thing, here’s your bonus gift for @acotargiftexchange for figuring me out or whatever 🫶🏻

Read it on AO3 or below the cut

“Elain, I really don’t get why you’re friends with her.”

Nesta’s smirk grew over the rim of her water, trying not to laugh at her sister’s wording. The three sisters sat in a corner booth, the middle Archeron across from Feyre’s concerned gaze. The minor lull in the conversation allowed the youngest of them to voice what had been on her mind for weeks, a topic she and her husband spoke about endlessly.

“She’s different than you think,” Elain huffed, getting the words out before Nesta could say anything. Their younger sister was unaware of Elain’s true relationship with the Vanserra, never quite picking up on the small details of their lives. Most notably, the pair lived in a one bedroom apartment. ‘Friends’ - a gross oversimplification indeed.

Nesta was the first to know, her sharp nose being able to sniff out whenever anyone was hooking up was an endless source of annoyance for Feyre and Elain growing up, but it meant Elain didn’t have to admit to Nesta about her relationship.

It was hard admitting to her relationship, not because she was ashamed of her girlfriend, but Elain wasn’t quite certain where her eldest sister fell when it came to believing the rumors about Eris.

There was one rumor about Eris that was the most well known about her and was the most true: she had a wicked tongue known for cruelties that extended beyond words. Elain shivered at the memory of her girlfriend this morning - long arms pulling Elain’s soft body into her. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the heat from Eris’s grasp.

Feyre straightened up, a grimace trying to take form as she worded her thoughts carefully. “Yes, she is quite different.”

Elain watched her sister sharply, concentrating on the grimace forming with each word. Her eyes narrowed, trying to predict where Feyre’s words would go.

“After everything with Mor-“ Elain couldn’t help throwing her head back, a groan coming from deep inside her at the mention of the blonde woman.

Precious, precious Morrigan, whose own story became full of inconsistencies through the years. Inconsistencies that no one dared to question for fear of upsetting Feyre’s husband.

These days the story she told went as follows: she and Eris had been friends for a long time until the ginger had taken advantage of the blonde when she had been vulnerable. It was only thanks to Cassian, who arrived to Mor’s apartment unexpectedly to find Eris’s head up Mor’s skirt, that she had been saved from Eris’s ‘evil, lesbian’ clutches.

The story Mor spouted had enraged Elain, wanting to go immediately to Cassian who had given Eris a black eye before throwing her out of Mor’s apartment. Mor had insisted they not contact police, not wanting to go through the traumatizing ordeal of reporting sexual assault.

It was the one saving grace of the story that was no more than a house of cards.

Elain had always gotten a strange energy from Mor, feeling almost slimey watching Mor interact with her brother-in-law. Elain was too sweet, never once wanting to mention the energy Mor gave off, but that story had completely soured her opinion of the blonde.

It hardly affected her life - Mor had hardly come around since Eris and Elain had moved in together. It was likely a coincidence, Mor spending most of her time in Europe these days after she began seeing someone who lived in France.

Elain knew how hard it could be - laying forth the most vulnerable parts of who you were to your family, giving them knowledge that is in many parts of the world enough to have you imprisoned. But for Mor to lie, making Eris out to be a predator? Allowing Cassian to throw her on the streets, assaulting her and threatening her?

The shining star of the story, the most enraging part, happened a few months ago, after her second date with Eris. They had gone to a lesbian bar, just wanting a quick drink. It was late, neither one ready to let the night end. They had only made it just inside the bar, hadn’t even discussed ordering drinks when Eris spotted Mor across the bar, dancing with several women.

The sight of her sent Eris into a tailspin. All the air had left her lungs, the room suffocating her until she grabbed Elain’s arm, her long nails digging into the flesh. Elain had taken her outside, hoping fresh air would help.

The story had come tumbling out of her mouth through the desperate attempts at air, the story hard to parse out from Eris never telling anyone the entirety of it. It was clumsy and confusing, but when Eris was less panicked, Elain pieced the story together.

“I’m just worried she’s using you.”

Elain’s spine straightened, her amusement long gone. Her brown eyes turned cold as she looked at her sister, the rain picking up through the window. “Because nobody could want to be my friend of their own accord. Surely they must desire something of me.”

“That is not what I’m saying.” Feyre’s voice wavered, her features flashing with hurt at Elain’s tone. “We just know the Vanserras…”

“Oh, you do?” Elain’s tone turned bitter, a strange sound coming from her. “Please, tell me everything you know about her. Tell me all the ways you’ve personally known her.”

“Elain, I-“ Elain held up her hands, refusing to let Feyre continue. Her words had been bubbling inside of her for a long time.

Elain Archeron.

The pretty one.

The doll.

The fawn.

Everyone in her family saw her as a dainty accessory to their lives, knowing what was best for her. Years of living in the shadows of her sister’s ambitions, made to seem foolish by comparison for having the audacity to prefer more historically feminine hobbies.

Elain was not the potted flower they thought she was, needing constant supervision, the perfect conditions to grow. Elain was the flower that grew toward the sun, her roots splitting cracks in the sidewalk to stand tall for all to see.

“No, Feyre. You don’t get to undermine every decision I make just because it’s not what you would do.” Elain rose, her face bright as she stood just beneath the lamp that hung over the table. “You can’t be upset when I go to school far away. You can’t be upset when I move to be closer to the two of you. You can’t be upset that I chose to take a year off and work in a bakery.”

“I’m not-“

“And you don’t get to interrupt me!” Elain’s eyes were wild. She was a fire, all of the oxygen in the room feeding her temper. “I came back because I missed you and Nesta. Am I supposed to remain friendless while I live here, merely orbiting the two of you for companionship?”

Feyre stared wide eyed at Elain, the light removing all shadows from her sister’s face as she continued.

“I am not a child for you to dictate who I choose to spend my time with. So what if you think Eris isn’t good for me - I don’t care! Let me find that out for myself. “

Elain watched Feyre gasp for words, sounds sputtering from her but not quite forming coherence. The sight was enough to make Elain gather her things and leave to keep from laughing at Feyre.

As she stood, shimmying out of the booth and into the frigid air, she swore to keep her relationship a secret. Her walk back to her apartment had started tall, annoyance and anger filling her with resolve. The further she got from the restaurant, from a potentially well intentioned sister, she began deflating, uncertainty at her decision creeping in.

Would Eris think she was hiding their relationship? Surely not.

Right?

Elain made it back to her apartment, the path blurring in favor of her racing mind. She opened the door, irritation bubbling back up at her sister’s disregard for how much had changed.

Their apartment was an eclectic feat of decorating - every window had no less than four plants around it, Eris’s dark furniture a beautiful contrast to the greenery. It was a beautiful meld of the pair, the place feeling more like home than anywhere else Elain had lived.

Elain sat down on the couch, bouncing slightly from how hard she fell into it. Leaning her head back, she stared at the ceiling, wondering how the situation might resolve itself. To tell, not to tell. The indecision ate her, uncertainty taking root.

“Hi sweets.”

Eris leaned down, her back bent over to kiss Elain on the cheek. Elain accepted it, so caught in her head she hadn’t heard her girlfriend come in the door. Elain felt Eris’s fleeting warmth, her hands retreating as she moved into their kitchen.

“How was your dinner?” Eris disappeared for a moment, returning back into Elain’s eyeline with a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two wine glasses. The wine glasses clinked against the glass coffee table, the noise startling Elain. Eris assessed Elain, slowly sitting down next to her, waiting for a response. Uncorking the bottle, she gestured to one of the glasses, “I’ll let the pour tell me all about how it went, just say when.”

Elain waited until the glass had a generous pour before reaching her hand out, stopping the bottle. She took the glass, uncaring at the many times Eris had spoken about aerating and letting the wine breathe, needing the hint of bitterness to get her through the conversation.

“Does it bother you that I haven't told Feyre about us? I mean she knows I like women, but she’s a bit...” Elain trailed off, her hands moving in the air trying to find the words.

“Cock stupid?” She swatted Eris’s shoulder, the wine sloshing into the glass from the bottle. The wide smile on Eris’s face made her freckles reach her eyes, the sight making Elain’s heart flutter.

“Maybe a little. She’s just - she’s put me in a box. And I don’t know how to get out of it. How to get her to see me as a person, someone who makes her own decisions.”

“You have been living on your own for years.” Eris sank a bit into their couch, her long limbs spread across the couch, searching for Elain’s warmth.

“Yes, but I moved so far away. It’s been years, but I’m still that helpless girl to Feyre.” She corrected herself quickly. “To both of them. It’s all they see of me. I had to get away.”

Eris hummed, waiting to see if Elain had more to say. The brunette pursed her lips, trying to create a coherent thought.

“I have a hard time being myself around them. I’m not the helpless girl I was, but they don’t see that.”

A silence settled as they both drank from their glasses, leaning against each other for more support than just the couch provided.

“You never answered my question.”

“There was a question somewhere in that silence?”

“Yes - about you being uncomfortable at my not telling them.”

“Ah.” Eris straightened up, refilling her wine glass before continuing. “I find it amusing how she and Rhysand think they know everything.” Eris stretched out her long legs, her foot caressing Elain’s calf. “I could not care less about either of them knowing, if that's what you’re concerned about.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never cared before what Rhysand knew about me - why would that change now?”

Elain’s face brightened, her smile making her even more endearing. “Good, because Feyre pissed me off and now I want to relish in her not knowing.”

Eris’s smile turned wicked as she leaned back into Elain, her weight welcome against Elain’s skin.

“We could wait and tell them via wedding invitation.” Elain giggled as Eris buried her face into her neck, soft kisses quick to turn into playful nips. Glasses were moved to the table, both women laying on the couch, the redhead wrapping her legs around Elain’s hips.

“You are a wicked woman. Maybe Feyre was right and you are trying to use me.” Elain giggled as the nips turned into bites, Eris making her way down Elain’s clavicle. Her kisses were cold against Elain’s exposed skin, Eris gently tugging at Elain’s sleeves.

“Keep talking about your sister while I kiss you and I will provoke other sounds from your mouth.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

[velarisnightsky444]

ACOTAR POLY/SHIP FICS

if it says “x reader” its a poly fic, if it doesnt, its just the two characters. (feyre x rhys, nesta x cassian, ect)

main masterlist

kink/fluff/angstober masterlist

❤️‍🔥smut 🖤angst 🩵fluff 🩶series 🤍this song reminds me of them 🤎playlist

🩶Cherry Blossom (ao3 II wattpad)(Feysand x OC) 🩶A Court Of Thorns and Roses: Sapphic Edition(rewrite of the series with female Rhys) (ao3 || wattpad) ❤️‍🔥Punishment(Feysand x Reader) ❤️‍🔥Caught in Between(Feysand x Reader) ❤️‍🔥Mine 🤎Feysand Playlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Shut Her Up(Gwynriel x Reader)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Pathetic(Neris x Reader) 🖤Tired(Neris x Reader)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Teatime ❤️‍🔥Watch 🤍Honeymoon

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Somewhere More Private(Emorie x Reader) ❤️‍🔥Desperate(Emorie x Reader) 🤍Seven

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Training(Batboys x Reader) ❤️‍🔥Pure Pleasure(Batboys x Reader)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[achaotichuman]

Emerie x Nesta Archeron Oneshots and Drabbles

This is my new favourite sapphic ship, and I can't stop writing them.

Hello, you've reached Emerie.

Summary:

Nesta called Emerie while she was stuck in a meeting. After it ended, Emerie found two new voicemails on her phone. One made her grin when she listened, immediately planning out everything she, Nesta and Gwyn could do at the beach.

And the next made her heart drop, as it informed her to rush to the hospital as quickly as possible.

You who bears all your teeth in every smile

Summary:

What if Nesta did not survive Briallyn's attack?

Emerie dreams of the woman she could never have.

In the low lamplight, I was free

Summary:

Nesta has spent her life being caged, smothered, shunned and ordered. She's always been a piece in a game, a weapon to be wielded, a sword to sharpen.

But to Emerie, she is Nesta.

To Emerie, she can just be Nesta.

I fell in love with the fire long ago

Summary:

Emerie has a rough day, but all of it is worth it when she comes home to see her wife.

Her wife.

Being able to call Nesta Archeron those two words was worth more than having a bad day every day for the rest of her life.

...or at least keep going until dawn?

Summary:

She’d keep going. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t, she would. She'd cleave this mountain in two with her bare bloodied hands if that’s what it took.

The Blood Rite is nearly finished. With Dawn just on the horizon, and the last stretch of the Breaking out before them, victory is right within sight. But the Illyrian males behind them are faster than Gwyn, who wouldn't be able to make the last of the journey before the three Valkyrie were torn into by dozens who wanted their heads.

They're trapped between a rock and a hard place, someone needs to stay as the last defence, and someone needs to take Gwyn and make the last of the treacherous climb.

Nesta and Emerie say goodbye, and then, Emerie pushes herself beyond her limits, and conquers the Breaking.

[ennawrite]

wrote a *small* snippet for my future Elain x Emerie fic :)

(includes a sapphic relationship, obviously)

tags: @illbdamned 🤎

Premise for A Court of Cinnamon and Violets:

Elain and Emerie quickly find themselves to be good friends when they both have a difficult time falling asleep at the House of Wind. They confide in the other about what keeps them awake at night, and Emerie introduces Elain to the beautiful world of romance novels.

A few days later, Elain pays a visit to Emerie in Illyria to return her book, and finds the lack of color (and flowers) in the camp to be appalling. Emerie and Elain strike up a deal, and Elain finds herself in charge of decorating Emerie’s store.

As the weeks go by, Elain realizes that flowers aren’t the only thing blossoming in the shop and that maybe, there’s a bit more to her friendship with the Valkyrie. Elain finds herself grappling with her (still unaccepted) mating bond, her feelings for Emerie and the heaviness that comes with choosing in a world designed to pick for you.

🪶Continue reading to read the snippet!🪶

“Do you…” Elain’s voice trailed off, and she diverted her gaze from the female’s eyes, shaking her head quickly. “It’s stupid, never mind.” 

“Do I what, Elain?” She asked earnestly, placing a warm hand on Elain’s bare forearm. Goosebumps trailed across Elain’s entire body at the simple, friendly touch. 

Elain shakily brought the cup of tea to her lips and took a small sip of the warm, spiced tea before placing it back on the table. She cleared her throat, staring at the swirls of cinnamon and milk in the dark brown liquid. The color so similar to the eyes she could not bear looking into as she continued, “Do you think these romance stories only work with me—males,” She quickly corrected herself. Men no longer existed in this world, only males. Always a damn male. “As the love interest? Or could there be…something else?” 

“Elain…,” Emerie said softly. Elain could practically hear the pity in her voice and she sunk deeper into her chair when Emerie removed her hand. Emerie stood and walked away. Elain silently cursed herself for being so openly stupid with her thoughts. 

She listened as Emerie rummaged around with something. Elain did not have the courage to look up and see what she was doing. Instead, she stared at her tightly gripped hands in her lap. Perhaps a better female would have bolted out of the door by now, or laugh her question off as some joke. But Elain stayed frozen, as she often did when it felt like the world was crashing down on her. Her heart was beating rapidly, her vision turning blurry. Oh, gods, she could not cry now. That would be—

“The beautiful thing about romance,” Emerie spoke into the heavy silence, interrupting Elain’s thoughts. Elain sucked in a breath as the female set a stack of books on the table. “Is that anyone can be the love interest. Male or no.” 

Elain drew her eyes up to the Valkyrie’s face, mouth agape. She knew she probably looked stupid, with the confusion so plainly written across her face. But Emerie just grinned widely at her, her dark brown eyes twinkling in the dying sunlight. Elain’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. 

“I do not often share these books with other people, not even Gwyn and Nesta. There are…things that not everyone will understand. Especially not in Illyria,” Emerie said, smiling sadly. “But I trust you, Elain. And I think you will find what you’re searching for in these books.” 

[lady-embers]

Some E/riels love to try to say we downplay Emerie importance/story and that we don't think Emerie will get her own POV.

Let's clear something up with this misconception.

We do think she will get a POV. With Mor. But it won't be a full length book because honestly I doubt Sarah would write a full length Sapphic novel AND do it the justice it deserves.

At most their story will take place in a novella. At the very least possibly in the background of one of the two full length novels left as Emerie is friends with Gwyn (who could become a main character) and Nesta and their stories are far from over. In fact, the Valkyrie plotline seems to be tied into the remaining books given the bigger war on the horizon.

And we certainly don't leave Emerie out of the equation at all. We don't minimize her importance to Nesta healing arc. She was just as important as Gwyn.

But Sarah did have Gwyn in a more focal point throughout ACOSF than Emerie. And while Emerie was introduced to us before Gwyn in ACOFAS, she was introduced very briefly, and we don't get a lot from her in ACOSF compared to Gwyn. That's just a fact.

If that bothers you, look to the author who wrote the books and take it up with her. 🤷‍♀️

[hrizantemy]

It’s the way I biblically need Nesta with a woman maybe from the Hewn City, maybe she’s a lady and maybe Nesta gets sent down there and they meet and they can spend the rest of their days being nasty and mean like people think they are. Mean lesbians? I think yes.

[rosesncarnations]

Sapphic neris has me in a chokehold

[goddessofwisdom18]

your favorite character being largely disliked by both the stans and the antis is actually so devastating. where am i supposed to go

there are three main opinions about mor in this fandom:

1. she’s fine bc she’s feyre’s bestie but you don’t really care about her personally (probably bc she’s queer because the stan girlies used to LOVE mor when moriel was semi-canon. i remember. i was there)

2. she’s fine but annoying bc she ~lead azriel on~ (main opinion on the acotar subreddit). never mind that if this was true, it would be as a result of a retcon, because again, pre acowar, moriel was going to be canon. sarah made mor sapphic because we were asking for more lgbt characters. (again. i was there.) and besides, i frankly don't think it is true, because azriel is the fucking spymaster with a million chances of knowledge at his fingertips and mor spent 80% of her time at a gay bar so idk how he couldn't have fucking known?

3. or she’s the fucking worst because she was. idk. mean to nesta. you know who else was mean??? and people love that about her because it's a result of trauma, it makes her flawed and relatable? literally nesta T_T this is not anti nesta i just don’t get it.

4. she's the fucking worst because she… supposedly lied about eris? ?? i'm not even going to begin to unpack this. why y'all IMMEDIATELY take the man's side and think what he's saying is bible… i don't fucking know. learn to decenter men in your life my friend. sometimes women ARE telling the truth even if they're basic or pick mes or whatever.

mor’s traumatized as hell and definitely has as much to back up her occasional cattiness as nesta had to back up her literal life long bullying. but few people will give her a feminist reading. few people will analyze how sarah wrote her story or what that means. few people will even give her credit as a real villain. she’s just an annoying pick-me bitch and that’s the end of it.

think about the lack of grace rhysand gives nesta. think about what that might mean for mor, to whom rhys (and his friends) was a sort of savior, because her life in the hewn city was that bad that somehow dealing with rhysand is better. that was who she grew up with; that was what she was taught to see as good because at least it wasn’t keir.

not to mention that her life is shaped around her survival via her desirability to males. ESPECIALLY as a sapphic woman can you imagine what that would do to her psyche?

but no. no fan posts about her. no headcanons. nothing nada. just me and the mor week posts and the occasional obligatory stan reference bc she's part of the main cast.

i understand being annoyed bc of the double standard in canon between her and nesta's heavy drinking, but even then i see posts all the time about "i would love rhys if it weren't for the narrative's worship of him!" and none for mor because she's just a ghost. she's nothing to anybody. despite being A MAIN CHARACTER!

not to mention but like. generally positioning yourself perpetually in opposition to the paradigm rather than just having values whether they're popular or not is not a great way to go about things. i completely understand liking eris regardless of what he's done - i am a tamlin stan despite the fact that he was very well abusive in acomaf - but the fact that there are antis out there who are so convinced mor is lying, or who want sarah to write that storyline, is so digusting to me. women in groups you don't like, political sides you don't like, women you think are annoying - they still deserved to be believed. don't give into respectability politics. come on now.

[moodymelanist]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics

aw this is so sweet 🥹 okay here are my fave three things I’ve written in no particular order:

Can’t Help It — I think this is probably some of the best smut I’ve written and I had soooo much fun thinking of ways for Nessian to just be increasingly toxic hehehe

there are two ways we can do this (i know which would be more fun) — I honestly love this fic so much like I honestly come back to reread it and giggle at myself all the time. I want to try writing more Azris at some point cause they just have such a delicious “do you want to hit me or fuck me” kind of vibe and it’s amazing

My Fire Was Fate With You — sapphic!Nessian truly will always have such a special place in my heart and this fic especially because I know so many of my fellow queers had similar experiences to Nesta in this fic that it makes me so happy to know people felt seen in this fic 🩷

honorary mention to paint it red though because I really had fun doing you know what (mind those tags y’all lmao). and of course to I Guess It’s Half Timing my beloved soft and sweet Nessian as parents to be.

[yennas-stuff]

An E/riel said that “Emerie and Rhys have a better chance at being friends than Gwyn and Rhys - he already flies her to and from Illyria” and while it is possible that Rhys and Emerie will become friends, I still believe that Rhys and Gwyn are going to become very good friends for many reasons, but that’s a whole different post.

And while we’re on the topic of Emerie, E/riel’s only bring her up when they want to put down/make Gwynriel’s, Gwyn stans, and Nesta stans look bad (I stated this in another ask). That we don’t care about her and we forget about her. Emerie week was announced not too long ago and the majority of them were dead quiet. “Emerie deserves better” they say and then it’s radio silent from them. It honestly feels performative. I have a lot to say about this actually.

The majority of Gwynriel’s/Valkyries fans have made so much fanart of Emerie (and Emorie), short fics, headcanons, little blurbs of how she inspired young girls in Illyria, theories of her getting green siphons or even getting Truth-Teller, and praise her for being brave and hardworking. I’ve even seen some say how it would be cool if Emerie got a little camp of her own for the woman who want to be a Valkyrie and it would be like a safe haven. And if E/riel’s have the Gwynriel, or Gwyn, or Nesta, or Valkyries tag blocked then that’s probably why they don’t see some of it. Even without those tags there is still lots of love for Emerie, so when I see them talk about how we don’t appreciate her or only care about Gwyn because we ship her with Azriel it makes no sense to me.

And also, a lot of E/riel’s bring down the Valkyries by calling the sleepover and them making friendship bracelets childish, how the three of them aren’t really friends because all they’ve done is hang out a few times and read books and had a sleepover (?), saying the Blood Rite was lackluster/stupid, “the power of friendship”, etc. So how exactly is bringing down those girls and their friendship being supportive of Emerie? (I think they only do this because they don’t like Nesta or Gwyn).

This topic really makes me heated and annoyed. Like I said it just feels performative from E/riel’s. @yazthebookish actually made a very good post talking about this a little bit ago, but I think it’s deleted now. (Apologies to Yaz if I made you uncomfortable with tagging you❣️)

🍒 anon

Helloo 🍒 anon,

sorry for responding late. There's a heatwave, and I'm just barely surviving it.

Every *feminist*, girls girl take from E/riels feels performative and fake. They always end up saying something indirectly misogynistic.

It is funny when they ridicule Valkyries but pretend to love Emerie. Do they know she's also a Valkyrie? And she loves Gwyn and Nesta. And she's a cool character with lots of potential. Especially considering the Illyrians plot.

Unfortunately, as it's a romance series, we are interested in speculating about romance. Hence, the ship wars. I don't particularly enjoy Mor, and that's why it's hard for me to think about the possibility of Emorie. I think Emerie deserves better, but at the same time, I need at least one wlw ship. (Pls sjm, give us something sapphic.) So when there is not much to fight or speculate about... there are just fewer discussion points. We still show appreciation for the character, tho.

I think we would all as a fandom have more energy to discuss Emerie more if we didn't have to debunk more and more unhinged E/riel theories and block trolls every day.