#nesta arc

[smuttydreambarbie]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Silver Flames - Fandom, Nesta Archeron - Fandom Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Nesta cassian Characters: Nesta Archeron, Original Nesta Archeron/Cassian Child(ren), Feyre Archeron, Elain Archeron, Cassian, Rhysand, Morrigan, Azriel, Amren (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Carynth Additional Tags: Inspired by A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Breeding, Nyx - Freeform, Rhysand - Freeform, Cassian - Freeform, Book 4: A Court of Silver Flames, Nesta Archeron/Cassian Fluff, Soft Nesta Archeron/Cassian, POV Nesta Archeron, Nesta Archeron/Cassian Smut, Domestic Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Bisexual Nesta Archeron, Nesta Archeron Deserves Better, By Carynth's Light, Elain Archeron/Azriel Fluff, Minor Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome, Nesta Archeron Appreciation Week 2022 | Tumblr: nestaarcheronweek, Soft Nesta Archeron, Wingplay, Illyrians (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Illyrian Wingplay Series: Part 1 of By Carynth's Light Summary:

A COURT OF SILVER FLAMES SPOILERS!!

Chapter 1 begins five years after ACOSF on Little N’s birthday.

My idea was to show what I imagine is a bright future after Silver Flames for the inner family, and what that looks like for everyone from Nesta’s POV. Blissful normalcy, family bonding, love, discussions of children, and moderate amounts of spice after a long day. Eventually I plan on world-building off of an OC Nessian child, and exploring where my mind thinks it should go. All practice and good vibes :) Chapter 1 was my 2nd writing project in ten years, so don't take anything too seriously and if it needs edits just pretend <3 <3

[motherjanerainy]

booktok cannot handle unfriendly or emotionally complex female characters. show them a woman who’s a little problematic and they start shaking and shitting themselves. women can be either be martyrs or victims, anything else and ppl short circuit. men can be fucked up emotionally manipulative mass murders but if women have one unpalatable emotion they’re drawn & quartered.

if booktok bitches saw the female characters i liked they would piss blood for a week !!!!

[kataraavatara]

“You can’t ship Neris because Eris is the kind of man Nesta’s mother wanted her to end up with!” I mean if we’re going there the IC uses her as a tool for their own gain the way her mother did and Cassian participates so I guess we can’t ship Nessian either

[wallflowers-in-the-wind]

Rhys and and Feyre can take their ‘court of dreams’ and jump off a cliff I swear I can’t read these books from their perspectives without wanting to scream. They’re such hypocritical monsters.

Court of dreams, more like court of nightmares for anyone who doesn’t fall in line.

[washmchineheart]

what if I say that cassian loves the idea of a mating bond and not nesta then what

she learned how to love him outside the bond. did he? he doesn’t even say that he loves her. and by the end of acosf she still thinks she has to earn love. just saying…

[court-of-secrets]

Hi this is an ACOTAR public service announcement:

The characters aren’t supposed to be without flaw.

That would be a boring book. Feyre has issues, Rhysand has issues, the IC has issues, Nesta has issues, all of them have issues, and have screwed up. That’s kinda the point.

[blindlydancing]

I can’t wait for the day elriel’s book comes out and the antis have to either sit with or delete their content that says elriel is never gonna happen and that we have no reading comprehension and there is nothing that points to them ending up together

[ennawrite]

mind you, SJM said this about Tamlin so remember that when you do your little think pieces declaring to know everything about future books 😇

[maybeiwasjustjade]

Upcoming ACOTAR fics: Little Sprout Verse

A series of one-shots set before, during, and after Koschei’s War, and mostly focuses around Tamlin and his various relationships as the years change.

Set twelve years after the events of HOFAS (bare knowledge necessary), and nearly three after the end of Koschei’s War, Prythian has entered an era of peace unseen since the days of King Fionn himself.

To an outsider, anyway. The reality isn’t as pretty.

The Seasonal Courts have finally found a balance in their coexistence. Autumn finds itself in an era of prosperity and growth under its newly crowned High Lord. Summer staggered at first, but with the finalization of its codified equality laws and a first successful season of its Council of Voices, High Lord Tarquin’s dreams are soon to be a reality. Winter has welcomed a new heir—a son, to join their growing family.

Spring has been revitalized, nearly comparable in splendor to how it was in the years before Amarantha. Cities have been rebuilt, and more and more of Spring citizens have returned from their refuge. Century-long alliances respected; a family reunited at last. And soon, its citizen will celebrate in the most grand celebration: the upcoming nuptials between their beloved High Lord and High Lady.

The Solar Courts, however, have increasingly found themselves in disarray. Though Day prospers as it always has, High Lord Helion finds himself heartbroken over the discovery and subsequent rejection of his only son, who has returned to Spring. Dawn stands strong in its neutrality, but chaotic forces from the north seek to destabilize their hard-earned peace.

A rebellion has formed in the far north. Citizens have fled in dead night, with no traces to be found. Dead, maimed males found scattered over the Illyrian Steppes. Natural disasters ravage the western bank of Night. The Night Court stands alone, its Inner Circle fractured beyond repair as sides are drawn, and mating bonds break. The newly risen Dusk Court has returned to stake its claim on what is rightfully theirs.

The agreed biennial High Lords meeting is soon upon them. A recon mission gone wrong has resulted in multiple hostages in the hands of Night’s sworn enemy. Grudges will be settled; recompense will be delivered. For the High Lady of Spring is out for blood.

[seleneprince]

A Court of Shadows and Blood (ACOSAB)

Summary: What if Nesta's trip to the Wall went different? What if she managed to get through without help? And what if, instead of Feyre, she found someone else?

After witnessing her sister being taken by a powerful Fae and enduring the burden of being the only one of her family to know the truth, Nesta Archeron decides to take matters into her hands and rescue Feyre herself, going up to the one place she was taught all her life to fear and avoid: The Wall.

But when she reaches the land of Fae, it's not Feyre whom she finds first. Instead, she comes across a man made of shadows that likes her venom and ends up as his prisoner in Under the Mountain. Nesta has to manouvre her way around this court of death and monsters with only her wit as weapon, at the same time she endures Rhysand's games made to amuse himself at her expense.

But Nesta was raised for conquest, nurtured with her own blood and tears until even her mind was made of iron. This Lord of darkness won't break her, nor the red-haired demon he serves. She'll save her sister one way or another, even if she has to become another monster herself to do so.

[cowboylament]

I'm so so so interested in this idea that the Asteri corrupted the cauldron, that at one point it wasn't what it has become. It was full of life. but I didn't understand then why then the Cauldron loved Elain, when so much of ACOTAR revolves around like to like but my friend said maybe it still remembers, it recognized her goodness. Nesta gave back what she took, but I started to wonder if Elain's journey will involve healing the cauldron of its corruption in some way. To return it to the image painted in the legend Azriel shares, of what it used to be.

[legendl0re]

A Court of Peace and Ire: Chapter 2 in full

Fuck it might as well post it here as well as AO3 xD

Summary:

Nesta, changed by her experiences with the Asteri, Bryce, and other worlds, has since resolved to get Prythian to where it needs to be should it have to face another threat. Stuck in a another dick-measuring contest between Eris and Cassian, the re-appearance of Tamlin offers her a chance to set things in motion.

Notes:

This one's for the Neris fans, and yes, Nesta is going to be the core of everybody getting their shit together over the course of this fic. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of ab*se, depression, and self-hatred (mainly on Nesta's part)

--

Nesta Archeron picked a small dandelion from the meadow, finding its vibrant yellow frills infinitely more interesting than the conversation going on behind her.

Once again, Rhys had urged Cassian to keep tabs on Eris, and once again, they had opted to take the risk of meeting in the Spring Court.

The two males yammered and bickered like they always did, Cassian’s incessant sneezing being the only thing to snap her out of her frequent distraction. Even with the risks that came from meeting here, Spring was a nice change of pace, a chance to get away from the Night Court’s chilling winds and the even chillier attitudes of the Inner Circle.

“Just keep us informed if Beron makes any new moves. If he tries to contact Koshei or the other mortal queens, or anything else.” Cassian was so tense veins were popping at his neck, but Eris seemed as unbothered as ever.

“Perhaps your little Shadowsinger should retire, since you’re so keen on having me do all of his work as of late.” The Illyrian practically snorted in anger, Eris chuckling to himself as he imagined himself conversing with a bat-winged bull. “As tempting as the alliance has been, I’m not privy to all of my father’s counsel. He’s become withdrawn, paranoid, and I have my own things to protect should he fall off the deep end.”

Nesta twisted the dandelion in her hand; it was just as likely that Eris was referring to his mother and brothers as he was to his hounds. She could never tell what he really valued despite these years of verbal sparring, but it was true that the High Lord of Autumn had grown volatile…unhinged even.

At the last High Lords meeting, the bruises they all knew he left on Eris’ mother had begun to peek out from under the collar of her dress. He was getting sloppy, or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Perhaps he was going senile, or the constant stagnation of Autumn in comparison the Night Court’s burgeoning power was starting to worry him

Power that she herself had bought them.

Keeping the Trove’s presence in Velaris was a fool’s errand; their power could not be dampened, and legends don’t operate quietly. Everyone felt it when Nesta beckoned the harp, wrestled with death for her sister and nephew, and bargained with the cauldron itself. 

“The next time you come trying to spigot me for information, you better have something worthwhile. A dagger and the occasional dance is not enough.” 

Out of her peripheral vision, Nesta could see that Eris’ pointed look had been thrown her way. “Oh I’m sorry, were you addressing me?” She droned, her boredom clear and blunt. “I thought I was just supposed to stand here and look pretty while you two squabble. And we haven’t danced in months if I remember correctly.”

“Perhaps if I weren’t conversing with an oaf, we could get a lot more done.” Eris preened, turning his eyes to the treeline. Cassian growled and turned away, shadows already coiling to winnow back home.

“You do what you want, Eris! I’m tired of this holier-than-thou, my-wants-are-greater than-yours attitude.” The heir of Autumn chuffed.

“Hmph, and yet you still serve Rhysand.” The winnowing energy shot to nothing, Cassian getting inches away from Eris’ face in a flash.

“Keep it up and I’ll finish what Azriel started.” Eris didn’t balk an inch, still as ever even in the great shadow of the Illyrian Commander.

Nesta dropped the flower, and interposed herself between the two.

“Enough.” She ordered, meeting the gazes of both men before she sighed. “Cassian, I want to talk to Eris alone.” Her mate’s eyes went wide, brow furrowing so deep it threatened to crush his nose. But she laced the words with just enough venom that he halted, thinking of the myriad of ways she would dress the Autumn heir down.

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

“I’m sure.” Nesta smirked, appreciating how far he had come from feeling like he needed to always be there. The Blood Rite caused him to be around her almost every second of everyday, often bursting into arguments about how he was suffocating her. But then he remembered the Bog, and the sheer power of death that turned the hag queen Briallyn to dust.

Even with the bulk of her powers given back to the cauldron, Nesta Archeron was touched by death eternal, and he was ever her devout servant.

“Go, I’ll finish up here. Rhysand will probably want to hear about this sooner rather than later.” Cass nodded, kissing Nesta on the head and lips before vanishing into the shadows. Then Nesta let the smile fade, and armed herself for a different dance.

“Nice job, mentioning Rhys to put a pep in his step.” Eris crooned, earning himself a withering glare.

“Shut. Up. You’ve been doing nothing but antagonizing him from the moment we got here. Wasting all of our time.” Nesta watched as Eris slipped his hands in his pockets.

“I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“That makes one of us.” Eris rolled his eyes, trying to weave past Nesta’s bladed words.

“What can I say? It’s fun to poke the bear. Especially since I can’t get any actual diplomacy done with him. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Was it fun when Azriel was pounding your face in?” Eris frowned at Nesta’s barb. “Because I promise you, Cassian hits a thousand times harder.” The heir kept his scowl for a moment, then burst into a laugh.

“Trust me Lady Acheron, I’m not worried. Rhysand has him by the back of the neck and you have him by the balls. He won’t jump unless either of you flick the leash.” Nesta crossed her arms, half wondering how bad a slap to the face laced with silver flame would hurt.

But she reeled her thought back in. “And now he isn’t here, which means that we can actually get down to business. Unless you're keen on pressing the issue.” Eris, with his back to her, let his fingers interlock behind her.

“You know what? I do have an issue I’d like to address. Your cowardice.” Nesta blinked, unimpressed but mildly curious at what he meant.

“This will be good. Go on?”

“I thought we had a good rapport at Rhysand’s little party at the Hewn City. You know, the one where he let the masses scent Feyre nice and deep?” Nesta felt her anger crackle, but kept her lips pursed. “I heard what you had said about me, about deserving me because of how horrible a person I am. A brute and a piece of shit I believe were the words used?”

“How do yo-?”

“Rhys thinks he's the only one with a spymaster worth a damn.” Eris’ withering glare would have left a lesser woman prickling, but Nesta just clicked her tongue.

“Oh. Did I hurt your feelings?” She mocked.

Eris sighed, his face donning a weary smile. “No. I just would have figured the woman who stood up for the humans so fiercely wouldn't have fallen for cheap Night Court gossip, nor would she have such a low opinion of herself.” Nesta almost winced, remembering the comparison she had made.

The harshness of those days came soaring back to her: the back and forth with Cassian, the rage and hatred she felt for herself, and of course, Rhys’ sudden willingness to put up with her if it put the Night Court in a better position.

With how good he was at staging her for his political gain, she had thought he’d broken into her memories and taken notes.

Still, Eris had an immense amount of nerve to whine, and Nesta stepped forward with her teeth bared. “Let’s not pretend you give a damn about my self-esteem Eris, and you hunting after my sister and your brother isn’t gossip, and neither is what you did to Morrigan.”

“Since when have you ever given a damn about Mor?” The fae laughed, shaking his head. “Although, it’s good to know that she still hasn’t told the truth.” Eris let that hang in the air, taking in a deep breath of the spring wind. Nesta’s arms fell at her sides, watching as the viper’s mask Eris Vanserra wore slowly chipped away, as if blown down by the softness of the air.

“That did hurt your feelings, didn’t it?”

“I suppose I was more disappointed. I thought you were different from those sycophants Rhysand surrounds himself with, your sisters included. That you knew, there is always more than meets the eye.” Eris turned to have her and swallowed, and Nesta actually narrowed her eyes. He was nervous; genuinely nervous…

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I would marry you in a heartbeat, Nesta, and it’s certainly not because you look excellent in black or because you somehow managed to learn expert-level fae dance routines in a few weeks. I wouldn’t have made it this far if I was that vapid.” Eris had closed the distance between them, his eyes intense with smoldering flame.

“Males of Autumn are taught to be frank, not to waste our time when it comes to our true desires. We say what we feel, and we take what we want, and I very much want you.” 

“Even after I insulted you so?” Nesta scoffed, feigning mild interest despite actually being shocked.

“I’m a big boy, Nesta, and unlike Rhysand, I understand that the image I’ve cultivated for myself comes with consequences.” Eris began pacing around her in slow, playful steps. “From that first meeting, I could tell you took things seriously, fought with every word you had to keep your people safe. While Rhysand and his High Lady pleaded and appealed to some misplaced sense of heroic morality, you were pragmatic, used reason, and looked to our self interest to guide our decisions.” He leaned in, letting Nesta feel the warmth of Autumn in his presence. That’s what a true ruler does.”

“How observant of you.” Nesta replied, taken aback by the words but remaining guarded all the same. Autumn was a home to many a sly fox after all.

 And of course, ever the sly fox, Eris changed his tactics to keep things interesting. “You were supposed to rule your own little court once, correct? An inheritance waiting for you in the mortal lands.” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“Please. Continue to remind me of what I lost.” Eris raised a brow, ignoring the bait. “The humans would never have a fae rule over them, and I’m pretty sure the other nobles have worked with the queens to cannibalize my father’s fortune.” 

The ships and soldiers he bought were the last Nesta would ever see of it; her father’s presence in the world reduced to a gravestone and the memories she and her sisters would carry forever.

“A shame. I would have loved to have seen what you could have done with such wealth and power on your own, unshackled by the chains of family.” 

Nesta narrowed her eyes at the word; did Eris know what happened to her? About the House of Wind and the tensions between her and her sisters. And why in the Mother’s name was he bringing it up now in the middle of what was essentially a love confession?

“How do you know all this anyway? You’re spies can’t be that good.” Nesta prodded.

“Trust me. They are, but it certainly helped that Bryallin was quite thorough in her research of you. I got a peak at her thoughts while she ‘had me under her spell’.” Eris grinned as he unbuttoned his coat, moving the lapel to reveal the dagger—her dagger—strapped at his hip. “I should thank you, but the way. Your blade kept my mind from breaking under the weight of the crown.”

Nesta tensed as the heir of Autumn reached for the knife, but relaxed as he unbuckled it and handed it to her. “You can have it back if you wish. I took it out of respect for Rhys’ attempts at winning my favor, but it very much wishes to return to its maker.”

More questions roved over Nesta’s mind. Did he know that she had lost the majority of her powers too? The weapons she had Made each still carried great amounts of that original essence, yet only Ataraxia remained hers. This offering could be both an implication that Autumn knows Nesta lacks her past strength, but maybe it was also genuine.

“Keep it. You might need it again.” It was true, but also Nesta didn’t want Rhysand to have all of the things she had made. They thought they were being subtle but the Inner Circle had always been keen to pry what was hers away for their own benefit, be it the weapons, the Trove, her identity.

She supposed that things had improved with them since she and Cassian officially ordained themselves as mates, having a small ceremony whose mix of extravagance and modesty was a careful negotiation between the two of them: small enough that Cassian wouldn’t be teased by his brothers for eternity, but big enough that Nesta felt like she would remember it forever.

And she would; it was the first step towards accepting her role in all of this, towards making peace with the fact that she was now fae, and no longer human…

Yet still, she couldn’t entirely shake the stares, the judgment. Amren had opted for an indifferent peace between them, but their old days of training and dropping bits of thousand-year-old wisdom had long since ceased. Azriel was always his kind, quiet self, always reaching out and checking in when he could. Then there was Morrigan, brown eyes alight with fury every time she glanced at her and Cassian together. 

Mother forbid both Cassian and Azriel talk to her at the same time, lest the blonde’s head go up in flames.

Nesta had long since resolved that she was good enough for Cassian, that she did deserve his love and her peace despite what she had done. But between Morrigan’s clear disdain, Rhys’ constant shifting between hot and cold, and her mate’s often blunt refusal to defend her in most situations, it seems the family that this Circle claimed to be was only for her sisters.

She supposed that was why she opted to make her own, with Gwyn and Emerie.

“My offer still stands.” Eris boasted, snapping Nesta out of her rumination.

“What? Of marriage?” She guffaws. “Please.”

“Already fully bonded to the brute then?” Nesta turned to him, letting a little silver blaze through her eyes.

“You call him anything but his goddamned name one more time, this conversation is over.” Eris paused, then backed off, taking her seriously.

Perhaps that was the strange appeal of it all, this little dance they did. He actually took her at her word.

“Is it so hard to envision?” He said. “You, in vibrant autumn red, a crown of gilded leaves on your head.”

“Your father spending every waking moment plotting my demise?”

“I never knew you to be one to back down from a challenge, and my father would be a fool to even hope to wrestle with you.” Eris gently took her hand in his, and watched as she let him bring it to his lips. “I myself would find it the utmost pleasure, and in truth, I believe you would be an exemplary queen, no matter whose court you ruled. I humbly pray to the Mother that you would grace mine.”

He pressed his lips to her knuckle, and Nesta couldn’t help but stir slightly at the heat of his lips warming the skin. Perhaps she should have let Cassian stay. “There’s not a single humble thing about you, Eris Vanserra.”

“True.” He said, letting go of her hand. “I very much will enjoy bragging about being one to kiss the hand of death.” The two stood there for a moment, eyes locked like two fires struggling to snuff the other out. Nesta’s hands had balled into fists behind her, embarrassed at how Eris of all people was getting to her.

It was just words, grand claims he would never live up to, all to worm his way deeper into the Night Court and get whatever it was he really wanted.

Nesta had Cassian—loved Cassian. He may not have been willing to stand up to Rhys, or actually said that he loved her. But it was more real than whatever dream Eris Vanserra was trying to sell her, and she would not be another Lady of Autumn.

No, silver flames would rip the Autumn Court apart before she ever let that happen.

Eris’ gaze broke first, whipping to something behind her, something that had urged him to unsheath her dagger and call an orb of flame into his other hand. Nesta turned to see, and lumbering through the trees in gilded, horned splendor, was the High Lord of Spring.

“I warned you about what would happen the next time you trespassed into my lands.” Tamlin growled, green eyes spearing the two as his claws dug into the earth beneath him. Eris just smirked.

“If you’ve finally set on cutting your life short, High Lord, I do appreciate that you’d do it in a fashion that grants my Court a lovely expansion.” Tamlin’s lips parted, revealing ivory teeth the size of daggers.

“An expansion you wouldn’t live to see.” He snarled, taking a step forward that thundered into the earth, sending birds fleeing from the trees. Heart pounding, Nesta shot a hand up, turning to face Eris with a grave scowl.

“I’m not dying in the Spring Court because of your stupid fucking remarks.” She muttered, before turning back to face Tamlin. “We were just leaving.”

“Until your next little get together, witch?” He replied, tail still swishing in anticipation of Eris’ next barb. It nearly left his lips, until Nesta blocked his way.

“Leave, Eris.” She demanded. “I’ll deal with this myself.”

“You think Cassian would let me live if I left you here alone, with him?” Nesta scoffed, the modicum of respect she had just developed for Eris vanishing.

“Did you not just profess your undying respect for me, or has that all gone out the window now that a monster has shown up? Are you going to protect little old me, Eris?” Nesta laid the mockery on thick, and the Heir of Autumn indeed found himself in an awkward position. Leaving Nesta with Tamlin was unwise, and Cassian would indeed flay him living if he found out he left her here with her sister’s tormentor. 

But if Nesta believed she could handle it…

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He whispered, sheathing the knife and winnowing away in one fluid movement. Nesta sighed, relieved that she could now dictate the conversation without pig-headed males puffing up their chests.

What was it Bryce had called them? ‘Alpha-holes?’

“Protecting your little alliance?” Tamlin growled, emerald eyes now trained firmly on the eldest Archeron.

“You’re operating under the assumption that I want to deal with you at all, much less fight you.” The beast narrowed his gaze at her. “I don’t need Eris riling you up, and frankly, this is actually a good opportunity.”

“For what?” The High Lord prodded, head tilting to the side in confusion.

“I know what you did for Nyx.” Nesta stated, keep her tone neutral and her hands at her sides. Tamlin paused, caught off-guard with denial already poised on his lips. Quickly, she cut him off. “Feyre was searching for him for hours. She knows that house like the back of her hand and still couldn’t find him anywhere. That, and you left shavings on his pajamas.” 

Tamlin grunted at himself. How could he be so stupid as to leave his gods-damned sheddings about?

“And what do you have to say about it?” He grumbled, bracing for Nesta’s near-mythical rapier wit.

“How about thank you?” He blinked again, half inclined to check his ear to ensure nothing was in it. “Rhysand might be knocking on your door sometime soon, so I figured I’d show my gratitude before he mucks it all up.”

 “Gratitude for what? He’s not yours.” Tamlin replied, looking down as he scraped his claw against the ground.

“He’s my nephew.” And a chance to have someone in the family who doesn’t despise her on some level. At least, she hoped that would be the case; Rhysand was a master of pouring just the right amount of honey and poison to craft a specific vision, and she often found herself lamenting about how one day, the happy Nyx—who she gave up her powers to save along with Feyre—would disdain her for all the Inner Circle held her accountable for. 

But that worry was reserved for another day.

“You’re…different.” The High Lord noted, finally shifting from his prep to lunge to a seated position. “You’re not as…bad-tempered.” 

Nesta practically laughed; what a nice way to say ‘not as much a vicious bitch’.

“Things change, High Lord. I’ve recently learned the world is much bigger than we think, and that all this scheming and politicking on this pitiful little continent is nothing more than a waste of time.” Nesta thought back to just a short time ago, about Bryce and her world, the Asteri, her time with Ember and the small kindnesses Bryce’s mother had offered. The squabbling here in Prythian left it weak, vulnerable, and it was by Nesta’s blind faith alone that Bryce had the chance to take on the Asteri and save both of their realms.

She had resolved to start getting things back on track a long time ago, and if that meant dealing with her sister’s vicious ex-lover—be it solving things diplomatically or mowing him down for someone else to take his place—then so be it.

Gwyn and Emerie urged her to give the former a try before the latter; taking on the Blood Rite was one thing, but as strong as they were together, taking on a High Lord was a fool’s errand, even for people as seasoned as Cassian or Azriel.

 “Your court borders the mortal lands, meaning like it or not, you’re an arbiter of what comes in and what goes through. I may be fae now, but I still care about the humans, and while it may not look like it, I engage in these meetings out of a hope that I can get something out of it that will let me help them in some way.”

Tamlin gave a hollow laugh. “Eris Vanserra and the Autumn Court are the last people to ever give a damn about humans.”

“I know, that's why it’s important to keep an eye on them the most.” Tamlin blinked at Nesta’s claim. “When you’re gathering allies or resources that are sympathetic to your cause, that doesn’t mean you ignore your biggest opposition. I figured a High Lord would know that.” The beast bristled at her last comment, but Nesta reeled her fangs back in. 

“And despite what you may have done to my sister after she di-,” She paused to correct herself, “After she changed, I remember that you filled our father’s coffers and let us regain our nobility, when you could have left us out in the cold to starve and die. You let Feyre come back to us, even though it meant eternal imprisonment for you and your people. And you made sure Nyx got back from his little adventure safe and sound.”

Nesta brushed a hair behind her ear. “A person who does all that can’t be all bad.”

Tamlin glanced down at the grass, thinking hard on Nesta’s words. Nesta’s. Supposedly the most vicious of the Archeron sisters. This whole conversation was almost surreal, and he felt a strain in his chest that felt an awful lot like…hope?

“I’m going to go now.” Nesta stated, waiting for a reaction before calling her powers to winnow her away. If Tamlin still pounced on her after all this, she was going to be really disappointed.

But no. Tamlin simply let his stare rise to meet hers again, before turning to walk away. “Have your meetings somewhere else.” He murmured, Nesta chuffing as the shadows carried her back to the Night Court.

[straightasaaro]

hot take: the “you guys just can’t handle morally grey woman” argument doesn’t apply to Nesta Archeron, not because she’s not a strong woman, but because SJM can’t write shit

[batboys-cumdumpster]

"the way Nesta handles her trauma is so relatable, anyone who dislikes her clearly hasn't struggled with mental health"

"the way Nesta treats Feyre is exactly how I treat my siblings, it's normal"

Y'all are really telling on yourselves for being abusive, manipulative, and very in the wrong here and obviously unapologetic about it when you say this shit. You know how this makes you look, right?

Bragging how you abuse others and using your mental health as an excuse, or using "well we're related" as an excuse, is absolutely fucking mindblowing to me

[wallflowers-in-the-wind]

Have you seen the theory that says Nesta made her bond with Cassian (like she made the weapons) because she was hurting and wanted someone to love her? The theory plays well with what you are saying about Nesta breaking free of not only the IC but the fake bond she made with Cassian. Thus either chosing someone for herself or finding her true mate

I have not seen that theory but it makes sense. Perhaps the weapons can be used to sever the bond if she chooses to harness them to do so.

It also could be the cauldron punishing her for stealing from it to force her to be with someone that isn’t her true mate and faked the mating bond with Cassian.

There are many mays we can play with the theory.

[ginwalt]

If elain ever gets her own book and sjmaas turns her into a girlboss #feminist warrior goddess like she did with nesta, i’m going to burn velaris to the ground and start fresh