#v. acotar au. » a court of ash and fire. «

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She’s been waiting at the window for hours, an unfamiliar excitement that’s kept her on edge since final preparations have been made. Months now, since her own travels had been completed and since newly found friend had been left behind in the City of Starlight, so far from her home here. That alliance had been drawn so quickly and sincerely, and though the pair had kept in touch with letters and gifts amongst the other, the Queen of Terrasen found herself utterly thrilled with the news that High Lady of the Night Court would be making her way here ( Inner Circle in tow, of course ) to spend some time here after all of her stories and tales of the beauty around her.

Chambers long since prepared and adorned with familiar green and silver, the corridors clean and pristine for their guests and the size of the host they’d be holding. Her own husband currently busying himself with security of their armies, to be on the safe side ; not that she herself was worried – it would have been a bad enough idea to attack the keep, let alone with several more gifted fae within its walls.

Her own frame is well dressed and ready for their guests – after tossing and turning for most of the night ( to a degree that had her own mate stirring so frequently that she’d gotten herself up and ready early ) she’d taken her time to weave her golden locks into twisting half up curls, her own crown on her head, the emerald of her dress lined with silver, as earthy toned a the forest outside.

At the sound of the horn, Aelin broke into a grin – they had arrived.

With a pace that was utterly not royal in mannerisms, her frame was quick to make her way through palace halls and steps, until she’s making her way into the courtyard – and all but throws herself into familiar arms, with a hug so tight it might have strained mortal bodies that neither of them possess any longer. Squeezing @stareternyl as a elated little laugh spilled free now.

“I can���t believe you’re here!”

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—   𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄. ( 𝑻𝑶𝑮 / 𝑨𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬 )   ft. @stareternyl​

the difficulty is not so great to die for a friend as to find a friend worth dying for.

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𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 + 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒. — this list will continue to be added to pending what media i consume / what muses follow me. generally i will be happy to add to this list even if your verse is not written on here, so please don't hesitate to reach out. the only verses i will not write in include aging down/up characters, and hp.

note for general fantasy verses : unless there is a specific verse plotted, i am happy to mostly prescribe to a canon where our own continents/countries co-exist within the same world for crossovers and alliances.

modern.

born into a very wealthy family, aelin's upbringing was blessed, with her parents joint CEOs of a company responsible for vast technological developments ( terrasen inc. ). at eight years old she witnesses her parents murdered via a hit arranged by her biological aunt maeve, who stood to inherit the company until aelin turned eighteen years old. barely managing to escape with her own life, she was rendered homeless and on the streets until she was found by arobynn hamel, who had made a shelter for homeless children under the guise of a gentle heart. over time, he used this influence over the children to encourage them to commit crimes on his behalf - first small scale thievery, and eventually training them to murder.

continuing in this life until reaching teenage years, falling in love with one of the other boys living there ( sam cortland ), aelin and sam had tentatively plotted to run away when ordered on one last mission where sam did not survive. aelin was found by police with his corpse and arrested for his murder, presumably set up by arobynn.

most plots in this verse will begin after aelin's release from jail one year later, when new evidence proved her innocence - she is living in a luxurious apartment purchased with her earnings from her crimes, and struggling to reintegrate into society. note, in this verse, her primary name is celaena sardothien.

a court of thorns and roses.

this verse exists in two forms - parallel worlds, where we embrace the canon of aelin falling through worlds and interacting with this world as an au one to her own ( which requires some sort of crossover basis plotting ), or neighbouring continents. in the latter, efforts to maintain political peace and a tentative alliance would see either aelin travelling to the night court, or members of the night court travelling to terrasen as emissary. this verse would be post koa.

crescent city.

essentially runs off the same premise as modern verse in relation to her childhood and being offered shelter by arobynn hamel, with the notable exception that aelin is half-fae and works as a bounty hunter post her time in prison, and is very much equipped to slaughter.

note: this verse was heavily au plotted with @stareternyl in a world where feyre was aelin's roommate. taking the drop with aelin as both enforcer and anchor to bring feyre back.

a song of ice and fire.

born and inherited from one of the original families in old valyria, who fled after the doom, aelin was orphaned at a young age after her parents were murdered and her home ransacked. found by the faceless men within the free city of braavos, aelin was trained within their arts of assassination. after freeing a large amount of slaves within essos out of sympathy, whilst she had been tasked a high scale murder, the faceless man cast her out - she was promptly captured and forced into the fighting pits in meereen. note, in this verse, she has no dragon affinity despite her valyrian background, only a particular potency for fire.

house of the dragon.

much like her asoiaf verse, aelin was born and inherited from an old valyrian bloodline, but her parents were murdered when she was only a child. taken to be sold to the highest bidder, aelin made her escape and found her way to the faceless men, to be trained within their arts and make a name for herself. making a name for herself within westeros ( living within kings landing ), she becomes one of the most sought after assassins in the city.

fourth wing.

gryphon bonded, aelin agrees to go undercover within basgiath to provide intel on a base level to the other side. deliberately falling under the radar and unable to bond a dragon, she is "forced" to repeat her first year, using whatever opportunity she can to feed information back to the other side. displays a rare and powerful gift from her gryphon, one not witnessed by the other fliers before - fire proficiency, usually reserved for dragons and their riders.

bridgerton.

orphaned at a young age, aelin has been raised as the ward of the wealthy arobynn hamel, a man well known to offer his home to orphaned women in exchange for the financial benefit of marrying them into wealthy and powerful families when they come of age. finally of age for the marriage mart, new to the ton after their relocation from northern ireland, aelin is desperate to find a good match before arobynn decides to propose to her himself.

dungeons & dragons / bg3.

coming.

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’i couldn’t even do one simple thing.’

It’s like looking into a mirror, to some extent – harsh exterior and a mask that tells her the wrong person might never break through, and it’s her as she was all those years ago, her first days in Wendlyn, or the years she spent as Celaena. Quite where they linger in the library of Terrasen long after the rest of the court has retired for the evening, the Queen having found the other here when they’d started talking. Diplomatic visit between the opposing continents, and yet she’d been startled at the similarities that existed between them ; the Night Court somehow feeling like something she could understand, after experiencing her own.

Nesta is quiet, and it’s a quiet that Aelin understands, alone and yet not quite lonely all at once. Perhaps that was what had led her to sit here with her, all of these hours, what had made her open up, what had the pair talking like old friends. Her own frame curled up in the comfortable armchair before the fire, and her features soften.

“When the war ended and I thought my fire was gone – I know the feeling. I couldn’t even light a candle.”

Soft smile offered, her chin resting on her own knee.

“You have your powers still now, though?” A moment of hesitation, before she teases. “I’d ask for a demonstration, but I love these books too much.”

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@nightsprince​ asked :  don't mind him, nyx is just going to jump on his aunt aelin's back and tackle her because he loves her uwu

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 – arms immediately move behind her back to make sure he doesn’t fall, even as the squeal leaves her lips with a wide grin, nose scrunching. It’s only a couple of times a year that her alliance with his parents court brings her here, a highlight to see him all the same, this little creature who has steadily become as much of her family as though actual blood. And each time she comes to visit, she can’t resist absolutely spoiling him, not ready just yet for children of her own ( too many scars left from years of war ) but more than happy to dote on him.

Doubling over with that small weight on her back, now Queen of Terrasen doesn’t miss the smile from her watching husband, even as she guides the toddler, almost a little boy now, over her shoulder and into her waiting arms. Upside down as he is, spinning lightly amidst Feyre’s gentle admonishments and apologies for the fact she’s been in their house for all of literal moments before she’d been so aggressively tackled by a body far too small to do any damage.

“This can’t be my favourite nephew, can it? He’s too big!”

Her entire face is lit with enjoyment as Aelin falls to her knees now – careful to scoop him upright in her arms as her fingertip rises to bop at his nose, placing him to stand before her with a laugh. Genuine adoration is there, and she thanks whatever creature has taken place of the gods that she’s found a second home here.

“Hello, my little Night Prince. I missed you – did you miss me?”

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—   𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐀𝐙𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋.    ( 𝑻𝑶𝑮 / 𝑨𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬 )   ft. @shadowsung​

 you can break my soul, take my life away, beat me, hurt me, kill me. but for the love of god, don't touch him.

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FIRE WIELDER. It hardly seems enough to capture the depths of the flames that stoked her very blood, the heir of ash and fire, hailing long from the core of her bloodline’s beginning. Her gift and curse from the gods, taken as easily as it had been given – and though it had been a long time in coming, the well had stoked those embers with every passing day, until her blood began to sing once more. She knows it will take years to restore the depths of the inferno at her prime, but her fire is hers to build, and she feels a little less cold to feel it inside her once more.

“I don’t know that we’ll find many places…less flammable, but I’m all for moving this somewhere a little more appropriate.”

Wicked grin lights her lips now, before swinging her frame up from her chair with an almost feline precision that’s not too distant from a lifetime of living in shadows as assassin, long before Queen. There’s training arenas, she knows, in the depths of the castle – magic has long since been returned across the kingdoms, and what was once feared is now nurtured, trained, refined.

Her own is not any different.

Leading the way down the rebuilt corridors of Orynth, the chatter quells slightly – though she doesn’t take it personally. The castle has been rebuilt beautifully, and just as she preens for admiration of herself, she preens more so for the home she’s helped rebuild, restored to former glory in a way that feels all more precious, knowing how long it had been lost to the people she leads.

“It’s not all back yet. Not fully. Much of it… I gave. But I do have some of it back now – it grows every day.”

A glance back, and a quirk of a brow.

“What would you like to see?”

Interesting indeed. Rhys wonders as he regards Aelin what might have happened if Feyre had remained human after he and the other High Lords had resurrected her. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that her humanity would have changed nothing about his love for her and desire to wed her, share his life with her. Even before their mating bond snapped into place, he had fallen for her. He'd known the depth of his love for her when he watched Amarantha snap her neck Under the Mountain. But if she'd remained human, what would that have meant for Nyx in the future? Would he eventually have had the same choice as Aelin apparently did: to choose between a human or a fae lifespan?

It is a curious question to ponder, but now their conversation has shifted back to Aelin's realm, and Rhysand doesn't miss the wicked gleam in this fae queen's eyes as she leans in closer to him. "He alluded to the fact that you were a fire wielder, but you sacrificed much of your power to save your world some time ago," he responds, watching her with curiosity glimmering in the starry depths of his eyes. "I'm eager for a demonstration, but... should we take this conversation somewhere less flameable?"

Perhaps Dorian had not known that his friend's power had returned. Or had not known the extent. Either way, Rhys is eager to see if Aelin's power of flame is anything like what the Autumn Court of Prythian wields.

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@nightsprince​ asked :  I am no one; I am nothing. —  deathless sentence meme / accepting.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒, and it burns violently at his words, gaze whipping to where the fae male stands ; taller than her, unsurprisingly, settled into a form so very different from the toddler she remembers bouncing on her knee each time she’d come to visit. Long gone, the little boy who had squealed over the pony she’d given him so many years ago – now he stands the very mixture of stars eternal and night triumphant, darkness and starlight that radiates whether he’s aware or not. She’s wondered, for days now, what has brought him to travel to TERRASEN, and finally seems to understand why he’s here. The burden of his birth finally seeming to settle. Power. He’s born with it, raised with heavy crown ; she knows what that is like.

“You are not nothing.”

There’s an edge to her tone ; not angry at him, never angry at him, furious with the world for ever making him think he might not be good enough. She moves to stand before him now – and she doesn’t see a boy any longer, but the very mirror image of how lost she’d once been, terrified of the obligations that came with her family name. He’s not family to her, but he is, not blood but kin all the same, and just as she’d die for her own children, she’d die for him in a heartbeat, offers up her home for him to stay as long as he likes. Listens, now, when he needs someone to listen the most – words she knows he’ll never breathe to his parents.

“Take away the Night Court, and you will never be nothing, never be no one.”

Finger flicks his nose gently, playfully, and her eyes lock onto his, gentle now, as Aelin murmurs.

“You are so much more than you know.”

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@wandyrlust​ asked :  I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable. // mor, but it's flirting slfjskdlf

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 – sincere, where so few can force a genuine smile to her lips. Stolen moments, they find themselves taking advantage of ; gardens that they both roam for just a moment of privacy in whatever it is they find between them ( not friendship, something more intense she finds – but not something she can title if she tries ). Glance to her right allows her gaze to roam the female by her side, and she almost dwells for a moment on how at place she looks here.

It’s almost time for her to leave – and she finds herself dreading the notion, unsure who or what might fill the void she’s sure her company will leave behind. Part of her considers asking her to stay, even for just a little longer ; she’s not used to begging, would do it now to keep her for just a little longer. She’s not sure if she’ll see her again, should she go.

Thoughts that break because Aelin realises she’s been silent for a little too long. 

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

Brow quirks, and her head turns – almost challenging little grin flickering in turn.

“I think I prefer you demanding.”

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@ominoist​ asked :  Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing. — deathless sentence meme / accepting.

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖. Little, does she know of the fae before her – littler still, does she know if she can trust her, that wary distance she keeps one that she offers to all strangers. But intrigued, to say that least ; cursed object long since rested beside them now, eased from her own touch the mere moment she had discovered what it was, but grasp poisoned by mere possession so it seemed.

“I think you’ll agree I have a unique grasp of timing then.”

Fingertips flex, and frame leans back against the makeshift campsite, moss softened beneath her back where she leans close as though bedding. The stars seem different here ; brighter, she thinks, but eery all the same. A world so far removed from her home, necessary venture.

No kingdom started well when cursed.

“Will you help me or not?”

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@wandyrlust​ asked :  You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast. // cassian  — deathless sentence meme / accepting.

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; but feels his upon her anyway, her own fixed so firmly on the leather she winds to wrap her wrists, binding them for their training to come. Not a conversation she’s so willing to enter into, because taking those walls down means exploring emotion ; not something she’s ever too willing to think about at the best of times, let alone with observant eyes watching. Flexing her fingertips idly to check the leathers there don’t constrict, Ashryver hues flicker to watch the taller warrior beside her, pausing for a moment to trace the wings that span the distance behind him like shadow – some kind of nightmarish vision, she imagines, for all who cross him in battle.

She enters the training arena willingly.

Hand reaches for the staff they’ve chosen as weapons for the day – her own as tall as his, contrast to a slightly smaller frame. It spins in her grasp, twirling lightly to get used to the weight even as her movements begin to poise herself for whatever attack he might bring, slowly circling as her eyes finally meet his. Whatever emotion, whatever feeling she knows is burning within, it doesn’t show on her features for even a moment.

Head tilts, and Aelin offers a wicked little smile, distraction from the truth he seeks.

“It seems to me, General, you might fall in love a little too frequently.”

Brow quirks, and fingertips flex on the wooden staff she holds.

“Promise your pretty throat is safe with me.”

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@bidefecht​ asked :  I have survived, but I have not been spared. / written by Clotho?? — deathless sentence meme / accepting.

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 – seems to comprehend without question that the woman before her has not breathed a single word since her arrival here, the silence of these four walls overwhelming amidst the scent of old books, the only sound pages turning, or the rustling of fabric with every step. Queen of Terrasen is only here out of curiosity, to learn more about this foreign ally she has forged, in the weeks she has spent in a city so very far from her own home. Enjoyment of reading about the history here has formed some quiet companionship with the woman who seems always found in the shelves here.

A long moment, before Aelin brings her gaze up to watch that haunted set of hues before her ; suffering, is evident there, of a past she doesn’t dare to question. Book rests in her lap, and a hand comes up to gently brush the scarred fingertips before her, crushed and broken bones beneath flesh that may never heal. Her eyes linger not on long wielded wounds, and her voice softens as she murmurs.

“In my experience, survivors never are.”

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@rhysoiche​ asked :  In war you must always choose sides. — deathless sentence meme / accepting.

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 does she walk with the LORD of NIGHT ; if she did not know better, she might think this yet another dream, the eerie darkness of what had once been her home surrounding her as his shadow cloaks her in proximity. So close, that her frame threatens to nudge his – she wonders almost idly if he would even feel it if she did, in this strange world he’s crafted for these brief moments they share.

When this time ends and she’s propelled back to her own reality, heir of ash and fire knows what she might awaken to ; pain, agony, darkness. An iron coffin that shrouds her even now, beckoning her back to her fate. He saves her if only for a moment, unaware of what torture has been crafted to stifle the embers that burn within her blood – but not yet. In this dream, porcelain flesh is yet unmarred, yet unbroken, the dark glimmer of fabrics that adorne her far beyond what she’s ever seen in all the time she’s been alive.

A dream of a dream.

His words echo in the eerie surroundings, and her gaze catches on the forest that ( in another life ) might have looked so similar to the home of her younger years. Still, smaller frame stops for just a moment, and when her eyes lift to watch him, there’s something a little more daring in her gaze.

“And what side did you choose?”

Silent. Watching. Waiting.

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verses.

v. canon oo1. » in a land long since burned to ash. « v. canon oo2. » ardalan's most feared assassin. « v. canon oo3. » the king's champion. « v. canon oo4. » she bowed for no one and nothing. « v. canon oo5. »  and at long last ; she was home. «

v. acotar au. » a court of ash and fire. « v. modern au. » she was a weapon ; and weapons do not weep. « v. crescent city au. » death was her curse and her gift. « v. asoiaf au. » glory and gore go hand in hand. « v. hotd au. » fire is such strange power. « v. bridgerton au. »  the brighter a lady shines ; the faster she may burn. « v. dungeons and dragons au. »  a girl who is both death and the maiden. «

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oo5.

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WHERE SHE BURNS WITH THE FIRE OF THE SUN, HE RADIATES NIGHT, caresses it with each shadow that forms, dancing towards her with all the grace of magic. Her own gaze lingers now, lips parting slightly in shock – but she falls silent even as her fingers reach for the whispering darkness, before it fades into nothing. Hues flicker to his now as he speaks, and fair is fair, she offers her answers to that which he asks, if only to chase her own curiosity to be sated after.

“No longer. My human body is long dead now.”

Interest flickers as he explains his homeworld, and her head cants in curiosity. Fae Courts. Different, to Eriliea, where kingdoms reign amongst humans and witches alike, magic finally released to every part of this world. Still, it seems a concept indeed to know their world accommodates so many types of fae – and her chin returns to her palm, elbow rested on the table to watch, a brow quirking now.

“Has Dorian told much about my own?”

It had been gone for so very long, the well truly emptied with the fires of forging, of what the gods had taken from her – for so long, that the heir of ash and fire had truly believed Mala’s gift was long gone, leaving nothing but the water she’d inherited from her mother. That last little piece of her family line, bestowed to her.

But all it took for fire was a spark to grow – and in time, those embers had kindled, and she’d felt the well begin to fill once more.

If he’s eager to preen and demonstrate, so is she, a truly wicked smile beginning to cross her features with the quirk of a brow, and Aelin leans in a little closer now, to murmur.

“I hope you’re not afraid of fire.”

He's really trying not to preen as Rhys watches her eyes admire his wings. If Feyre were here, she would be rolling her eyes at him. Cass would likely just spread his own wings too, the show off. Thankfully, Aelin can't actually read his mind, although he wonders if Dorian is able to. His new friend seems to have an uncanny ability to learn and absorb other's magic into his own arsenal of skills. At any rate, the only outward sign of how much he's enjoying this is that slight upward tilt to the right side of Rhys' mouth as he resumes his seat.

When the conversation turns to their various magical skill sets, Dorian excuses himself. He heard all of this before, or at least all of Rhys' answers, on his initial visit to Prythian. "Another halfbreed then?" he jokes, one eyebrow raised. "Does that mean you can no longer shift into human form?"

He's still sipping at his wine when Aelin leans forward and asks her next question. "The short answer is yes, but to varying degrees of strength and in different types. My realm, Prythian, is divided into seven fae courts, as well as a human kingdom ruled by - or at least formerly by - various human queens. Each of the fae courts manifests a particular type of power. My friend Tarquin, down in the Summer Court, wields powerful water magic. Whereas I, as High Lord of the Night Court, can manipulate shadows and darkness."

While he speaks, he uses his power to lengthen the shadow of his own sofa on the floor and send it crawling towards Aelin until it rises up from the floor and floats in front of her as a small, shadowy version of herself. He holds the trick for a moment, before letting the shadowy figure dissipate. "There are other powers among other fae races too. The Illyrians who make up a third of my court are gifted with what they quite succinctly call the killing power. They channel it through siphons, magical gems. It's what makes them the fiercest warriors in my world."