Spiteful Gremlin 👁👄👁

Just out here reblogging fanfics, don’t mind me. Side blog. Main is : @skychild29. (my icon is by @ilustrariane)

[ladynestaarcheron]

My Fics

So, for whatever reason, the page I have keeps screwing up the links. So I’m just going to keep this post and keep updating it with my fics. There’s a link to it on my blog, where the old page used to be.

You can read my stuff on AO3 or FF.net, but if Tumblr is your preferred medium, here they are!

(Psst, original stuff on WattPad.)

Multi-chaps:

Like Pristine Glass - Five years ago, Nesta was exiled by her sister to Illyria. Four years ago, she disappeared. Three years ago, she stopped sending letters. And now she’s turned up in a small country across the sea, with three small children in tow. But Nesta’s not looking for the Inner Circle anymore, and she’s not happy to find them on her doorstep.

But Cassian’s lost her too many times to do so again, and this time, he has more at stake than ever before, if those three Illyrian-winged children have got anything to do with it.

Invisible String - There’s no love lost between Nesta Archeron and the Cauldron. It stole life from her, so she stole Death from it. But not long after the war, Nesta realizes it gave her something, too: a mate.

Nesta knows any gift the Cauldron gives her is only for the worst, and it doesn’t take very much to see how, so she does her best to keep it to herself. When someone’s truth magic reveals her secret, and a number of relationships pay the price, Nesta knows what she has to do: destroy the mating bond.

On her journey to new lands, Nesta learns her own soul and discovers how her fate is decided, and whether love works into that equation at all.

Fears All the Way Down - Over a year after the battle with Hybern, Nesta Archeron still feels as  though she’s drowning. Love and support from her family, dysfunctional  as they are, is enough to make her see that the girl who gave everything  she could against the Cauldron may be buried, but she’s not dead yet.  There are hands reaching out. All she needs to do is grab on and climb.

Eat or Bed - “Eat or bed?” Cassian had asked Nesta, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as some invitation. I debated telling him he was in no shape. Nesta only said, “Bed.” And there was certainly no invitation in the exhausted reply. -A Court of Wings and Ruin

But what if there was?

My Sister’s Keeper - Nesta’s furious, hurt beyond belief, that Amren voted against letting   her make a decision on her own life. That there was a vote in the first place. Feyre’s too blinded by heartbreak and love for her unborn   child to be angry about her own injustice. So Nesta decides it’s time to  step up as an older sister–she will be angry enough for the both of them.

The Deal - When Velaris shakes with Nesta Archeron’s trauma, Rhys goes to silence   her, to save the city. He slips into her mind to do so. What he sees   there leaves him cold, and he strikes a deal with her to rid them all of  it. But both Nesta and Rhys have very different ideas of what the  outcome of their bargain will be.

One shots:

doctor of law’s emoji prescription - Modern AH AU. Feyre introduces her sisters to her boyfriend and his family. Told via texts and group chats.

Hanukkah Grinch - Nesta’s sisters are throwing a mandatory Hanukkah party, and she is dutifully (if begrudgingly) on her way when her car breaks down. Her sisters know Nesta can’t be an in enclosed space with strangers, so an Uber or the subway is out of the question, so Feyre sends her friend Cassian to pick her up. Nesta may be a grinch, but at least she’s not an imp.

Cycles of Life - “Fae fertility cycles had never been something I’d considered, and explaining them to Nesta and Elain had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Nesta had only stared at me in that unblinking, cold way. Elain had blushed, muttering about the impropriety of such things.” A Court of Frost and Starlight, page 45. So…Elain doesn’t want to talk about periods. Where ever did Feyre, a girl who lost her mother when she was eight, learn about hers? I wonder…and thus this was born.

You Made Her Like That - Following Cassian on a trek through the Night Court countryside, Nesta keeps her eyes down, focused only on the step in front of her. Beyond that are her nightmares, out of order and never-ending. It’s a stream of different types of pain, all of it entirely consuming and unbearable in its own way. It’s no wonder a few days have passed before she’s able to form a conscious thought: I don’t want to do this anymore. So she just stops.

Lose Sight of the Shore - Fine-tuning his natural Nesta-reading abilities tells Cassian right away what no one else picks up on: he knows that she has the ability to love and feel love deeper than anyone, but the aftermath of trauma and the fading numbness has only left her bleeding in pain. So he decides to drag her back to him the best way he knows how: by infuriating her. But she’s not interested in hearing what Rhys and Feyre’s lackey has to say–unless he can prove her wrong and show her he doesn’t always do what he’s told. In fact, sometimes he does exactly the opposite. Like visiting cities he’s been banned from.

Shattered - “I remember looking down at the pieces of the vase, shattered on the floor. It didn’t even matter. It didn’t even matter that it was broken. It was worthless, and no one cared.” But Nesta’s wrong. She isn’t the vase. And Cassian cares.

A Little Theatrical - When Nesta is brought to the Night Court after the war, revenge is the last thing on her mind. Too tired to want anything beyond filling the gaping soul inside of her where her soul used to be. She tries filling it with whiskey first, and then when that doesn’t work, she adds males to the mix. Fairly soon, falling asleep in a drunken stupor after a mediocre orgasm no longer sates her either, but what other choice does she have?

So her days and nights continue in the same manner.

Until she discovers her other choice.

The Rage - It’s not Nesta’s rage that’s the problem. It’s her pain.

Cassian tries to ease it, after she does the same with him.

Tumblr fic prompts (not on AO3 or ff.net):

Anon requested: Can you do a one shot of a jealous Cassian?

Anon requested: Oohh write domestic Cassian and Nesta, please

Anon requested: Ooh, write Nessian pillow talk please (LPG-verse)*

Anon requested: Wait… Cassian’s reaction to seeing Nesta with her hair down??? (LPG-verse)*

Anon requested: Better than that, Nessian… i love yous???

Anon requested: Write about Nesta adopting a dog or a cat from the Illyrian Mountains while Cassian is away

Anon requested: Nesta finds and adopts a cat, and Cassian and the cat are at silent war with each other for her attention

Anon requested: Nesta finds out Cassian is deathly afraid of spiders and she saves him (prompt) sorry I am unoriginal

Anon requested: i’d love one where ava or ollie see their parents sleeping in the same bed and how they will react pretty pls 🥺 (LPG-verse)**

Anon requested: if you wrote a one shot (or a multichap fic again lol) of cassian finally giving her the ring ❤️

Anon requested: Cassian came back home really injured, everyone is busy and Nesta takes care of him, he apologises for being a jerk to her?

Anon requested: Nesta in the bathtub and Cassian is sitting on a stool beside her reading a book to her

Anon requested: Nesta eats some illyrian dish or candy for the first time and becomes obsessed with it?

Anon requested: cassian and nesta’s first disagreement / fight as a couple (LPG-verse)*

Ribhinnog requested: Nesta and her first real interaction with Cassian’s wings

Anon requested: Nesta confronts Mor

Anon requested: What would you do if I/break free and leave us in ruins?

Anon requested: Nessian cooking together 

Anon requested: Nesta: This dresser is so small Cassian, hours later: Rebuilds the dresser so it’s bigger

*You do not need to read LPG to understand these fics! But if you do read LPG, and you enjoy it, then these will enrich the experience for you.

**This is pretty in-LPG-verse, and you do have to have read LPG to understand this.

[ladynestaarcheron]

Hello tumblr, I have not posted in approximately a million years, but I wrote something and wanted to share it.

I have this concept of a fic that I'm uninterested in writing (for now) (probably forever) in which it follows the plotline of ACOSF and then breaks off when Nesta and Feyre have a fight and Feyre reaches out first. In my head I see this argument ending with Nesta saying something to the tune of "you owe me reparations because I lost my home and my life because of you" and storming off, and Feyre then sending her word that she's opened up her own bank account for her. But you fill it in with whatever you want.

Anyway, then Nesta sends this letter via Cassian:

Feyre,

For over a year now, I have believed that we were no longer sisters. As in, the females we were Made into were not sisters. I have now a modest belief--shall I call it a hope?--that is not true.

Lately you have told me we have much to say to each other. As you know, I am not a good conversationalist. Instead I have written my piece. I hope you will read it through.

After your return from the Spring Court, I told you how things were for me when you were taken. I did not share everything with you. I told you I had called off my engagement because I felt he would not help you, or help me help you. That was true. I did not tell you how violently he reacted when I ended things between us. My wounds were still open when I left for the wall.

I tell you this not to guilt or shame you. I just find it unbearable, moving forward, not to state my case to you and certain elements are unfortunately required.

As you know, I returned from the wall unsuccessful. I spared little thought for my relationship; nothing mattered more than the fact that you had been stolen in the night and no one knew it but me. It was the only thing that occupied my mind.

When you returned, and we spoke to each other truthfully, I decided that the only thing that mattered was that you were back. I fancied that you and I would grow to be aunts to Elain's children. We were both resigned to never love again and we could accompany each other.

When you left, you told me to never speak your name again to protect Father and Elain. You told me you would send word once you were safe.

When you didn't, I thought you were dead. I did not go to the wall this time; I was frightened those wicked faeries (as you'll recall I called them at the time) would come back for Elain.

I was furious and heartbroken when you came back. I understand now that you were broken and incapable of reaching out...what I don't understand is why you are angry at me now for acting the same way.

When you came into our home with Cassian and Azriel and Rhysand, you were hostile to me. I was grieving you, and you hated me. I only have simple, childish words to address my feelings: I was hurt and confused. We had split, I thought, on good terms. I had wished you well. I thought you felt the same. Why did you not write to me? Did you want me to think you were dead? Were you angry that now you had to be forced back into my life by circumstance? I did not know if these new faeries had made you hate me. I just knew that you did.

But I did what I could for you and your new High Lord. I tried all I could with the queens.

I cannot begin to describe my terror at Hybern's soldiers in our house that night. Four of them took me from my bed, and I heard the same happening to Elain down the hall. They were violent the whole night. I could not imagine the Cauldron could be worse, and it was. I cannot share more than that, but please know there is more to share.

And you were gone again, back to the Spring Court for reasons I still don't understand. Elain and I were in the House then, but it wasn't like it was this time. It didn't care for me the way it does now, and Elain was near catatonic much of the time, and semi-delirious the rest. I was frightened and alone. I slept little, because when I did, I was frightened of my dreams as well. They took me back to Hybern's soldiers, and the Cauldron, and for the first time, now to Tomas too.

When you came to the House to see us, I felt you were cold to me. I was waiting for you for an explanation; you were obviously in charge of what remained of our family now, and instead I felt you had sidelined us in favor of your new family. That became clearer to me as time went on. They hated me because of what you told them about me.

I was angry at that. You had joined them after leaving me, willingly, for Spring, when we had become partners. Sisters, and not rivals. That was what I thought. But something in our time apart made you hate me again...I was alone here, in the new world and body above the wall. My only way forward was to hate you too.

You made it easy, favoring your new family who terrified and mocked me. I have always believed in guilt by association. I am trying to stop now. It is very difficult for me.

When I shared one of my deeper humiliations with you--that I could not bathe--I felt heartened by your response. Maybe, I thought, I could live above the wall like you did. I would consider it natural, and maybe I would feel more at home here than I ever did below it. My hope was not grounded in anything other than my relationship with you.

Still, I wanted to die on the battlefield. I was at peace with the thought. I wasn't frightened. I would give you something to look back on with love, and maybe I would have love with me where I went.

Surviving was a horror. I had to face everything death would have provided me an escape from.

I dreaded the moment you would come to my door, to talk, to begin dragging me out--what is to be dragged out but to go through it all again?--but you didn't. And so I sunk deeper.

I am responsible for my own actions. You are not responsible for my healing.

And yet, since I could not have done it without help, I thought it would be you helping. I thought you would want to. I dreaded it, because it would be painful and miserable and humiliating, but it didn't happen. You only invited me to dinners with your family. As though I could find myself within that group, as though I could even stomach food....

Where was my bath, I wondered. When were we going to sit together privately, and I would share my story and you would share yours? I had come to you first, after Spring, now surely, surely, you would come to me. Especially since you weren't broken anymore.

But you weren't broken anymore, and maybe you were tired of a sister who was.

Tomas and Hybern and the Cauldron came back to me. I felt phantom limbs grabbing onto me in the night. Drinking helped to numb me--it had been Cassian who had taught me that, actually, he gave me my first glass of brandy after the Ravens in the Library.

I went to some of your luncheons and dinners and parties. I waited for you to pull me aside. Instead you left me on the outskirts. I could not have entered the ring myself. I was not part of that family.

I could not sleep without being plagued by my recurring nightmares. They had started creeping into my waking hours, too. I would see males who weren't there, or hear Elain’s or my own screaming. Sometimes some of my flesh would burn where I had been grabbed and beaten.

I knew people could look at me and tell. Was this who I was? A body to be discarded, to be abused by anyone who desired? No one seemed to care. Maybe it was true.

I tested the theory one night, with a male. And again. And again.

It felt right. I was not a person anymore, not truly. I was a body, and I belonged to pain and humiliation. I deserved to be used and discard by males. I was meant to be a drunken whore.

There would always be a part of me that wouldn't want that, that cried out when touched and hated drink, but it was my role to silence her. She deserved it too.

You may notice, Feyre, that I have stopped discussing my relationship to you here. Because here was where it stopped: I had no room in my life for sisters or friends. There was only pain. That was all there was for me.

I wasn't truly angry at for calling me to your house, for humiliating me as Rhysand cowed me. It was time, I understood, for my pain to turn common. It was no longer enough to inflict it upon myself, I needed it to be public. I was now a creature even Elain didn't love anymore.

The part of me that hated the sex I forced upon myself did hate you. But it was her who had to be punished the most, I knew.

My time with the priestesses has done me--I do feel confident saying--well. I look at myself and I can assess normally and accurately (I hope). I was assaulted and brutalized and I reacted in a manner not atypical of females who have undergone the same. I am not a creature borne of evil, and I am neither doomed nor damned. I can heal and progress no matter how much I hurt.

But my time with the priestesses has also left me with new pain. You did not know about Tomas, but you knew about Hybern and the Cauldron. You knew I couldn't bathe. You knew I stopped eating, and only drank. You knew I was letting any male who wanted use my body nightly.

One thing I have learned here is we are responsible for those we love. I know it is perhaps more than I have ever done for you--it is definitely more than I have ever done for you--but why did you not come when I was clearly calling for help? I cannot find a different way to see it: you were uninterested in me. You didn't want a healed Nesta. You painted me out of your life.

I do not wish you had just let me die, because now I have the House and new friends here. But I still feel like every step I take is in spite of your trying to hold me back. I feel helpless. I feel as though you are not on my side and do not want me to heal at all. Why would you threaten me with banishment? Why would you force me to humiliate myself in front of Illyrians, who hate females training and hate me especially? Why would you grant all the females in the Library a choice, and yet force me alone? Why would you treat me differently to them at all, when we are all females who lost bodily autonomy? Why do you punish me for hurting? Why did you treat me how you hated to be treated? Why do you keep me around to abuse?

I know that I have hurt you. I thought we had forgiven each other for everything by the time you left for Prythian again, but either I have hurt you since then or you have changed your mind. Perhaps both.

I have spent, since putting pen to paper, four days writing this letter. I have thought about it even longer. Still I am not certain I have said it all--I know I have not--but here is my most important message to you: this is my piece. I want to hear your piece because I cannot forgive you if I feel you have hated me baselessly. I want to forgive you because I do not want to hate you and I do not want to lose you as a sister. I hope you feel the same about me.

Regarding the contents of this letter--I would be very much obliged if you kept our correspondence private. I have little desire to relate to Elain or your Court of Dreams.

I hope you respond.

Nesta

[kinoselynn]

[overclassy]

[forgetful-nerd]

Spelling mistakes? I guarantee neither of us saw those at 3:00 AM Monday Morning.

[sladucer]

"I saw him every day, every night... and then one day I understood that I don't remember my friends, those who came with me to defend our faith — yet I can picture his face down to the tiniest detail."

~Forever and Ever and More

It's only beginning. I have so many thoughts about this. About them.

I'll keep you updated ❤️

[bvckbiter]

“is this character good or bad” “is this ship unproblematic or not” “is this arc deserving of redemption or not” girl…

[grrwoof-woof]

"but the text never explicitly stated it!!!" hey, so that's actually what they tried to teach you in those english classes you barely passed 😁

[aliferousmetal]

[janearts]

My contribution for Day One: Love Languages for @nessianweek 2025. I had trouble choosing just one for each.

Words of affirmation are, admittedly, 100% my personal bias and not based at all on what we see in the books. So help me that woman needs to be told in explicit terms that she is loved and worthy of love. (Credit where credit is due: the quote is from Brennan Lee Mulligan playing Jawbone in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Sophomore Year!)

Cassian is 100% physical touch and I will die on that hill.

[jammbro]

just want you guys to know, i’m mentally ill abt them

[janearts]

My contribution for Day One: Love Languages for @nessianweek 2025. I had trouble choosing just one for each.

Words of affirmation are, admittedly, 100% my personal bias and not based at all on what we see in the books. So help me that woman needs to be told in explicit terms that she is loved and worthy of love. (Credit where credit is due: the quote is from Brennan Lee Mulligan playing Jawbone in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Sophomore Year!)

Cassian is 100% physical touch and I will die on that hill.

[sladucer]

"You're everything that feels like home to me"

[kissycat]

Yesterday I overheard a trans woman saying to another "the fourth law of robotics is that the robot has to be gay and trans" and a cis guy nearby going "oh what? I only know the first three" and her repeating "yeah it says the robot has to be gay and trans. Asimov wrote that" and him earnestly saying "whoa I didn't know that!"

[reguluslostcat]

Headcanon :

Regulus has the sluttiest waist known to mankind and Dorcas is infuriated because he never wears anything to show it off.

(That is until one end of the year party wear regulus is wearing a tight shirt which clearly makes his waist appear. Cue james dying)

[miriammctroi]

14yo Sirius: Do NOT EVER touch or even think about touching my little sister

14yo James: 😟 okay, I promise

17yo Regulus: I'm trans & a guy btw

18 yo James: LOOPHOLE !!!

[mandarinaart]

At this point I accepted that I only draw wolfstar at 4 am with one hand in my heart and the other in the pencil 💔

The funny repost keeps me motivated to keep creating please never stop being little freaky weirdos 🌻

[krustytoaster]

wolfstar and the artists that draw them have my whole heart fr

[gretasartt]

the prince knows what he wants