#Writing circle

[novlr]

“At base you have only one criterion: If something interests you, it goes in—if not, it stays out.” — John McPhee

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

Thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing this event!! This is my first ever writing circle, and I am so happy I could write for gwynriel first!! It is my first time writing gwynriel, and my first time writing a smutty/steamy scene from scratch, so I hope you all enjoy! See the other amazing works in the writing circle here

Summary: Working as a Spy for the Night Corp has gotten Gwyneth Berdara everything she ever wanted out of life: a group of friends who would die for each other, a chance to make a difference, and a love she only thought existed in fairytales.

Gwyn is undercover in Mayor Beron Vanserra's office to expose the hidden truths about how he came into power. Her true reasons for working at the Mayor's office aren't the only thing she's keeping secret. Her relationship with her supervisor, Azriel, is kept tightly under wraps. If anyone found out, it would change their lives forever. When a masquerade fundraiser poses the perfect setting for her mission to proceed, more than just Beron's secrets are brought to light.

Warnings: NSFW and BDSM themes

~5k words

Find on AO3

Part 2 | Part 3

Gwyn awoke to the fresh rays of morning light caressing her face as they peeked through the open curtain of the bedroom window. Groaning from the early wake up call, she made a move to get out of bed to close them. Before she could even shift towards the light, an arm snaked around her waist and pinned her back to the body laying beside her. 

“You know better than to sneak away, Angel,” said a gravelly voice into her ear. Just the sound of his sleep-addled voice was enough to send her whole body into overdrive. She opened her neck up to him, silently pleading for his lips on her skin. 

He chuckled at that and whispered, “So greedy for me, aren’t you?” 

A shiver of anticipation snaked up her spine at the way his breath caressed her ear. With a soft chuckle, he started kissing his way down her neck, each kiss left a trail of heat and desire in its wake. When he finally reached the junction between her neck and shoulder, he bit down just hard enough to get her blood to boil under her skin. Before she had time to react, he flipped her over so she was caged between his arms, his head so close to hers that his black hair was brushing against the speckled ivory Gwyn’s forehead. Looking up, her teal eyes met his hazel ones and the predatory look he gave her was all Gwyn needed to know that she was not going back to sleep. 

Her hand met the back of his neck as she pulled him down in a fervent kiss. Every place their skin met sent shivers down her spine. When they came together it was like a hurricane, powerful and unrelenting. Everything about Azriel consumed her, forged her, and ignited the parts of her that she had never known existed before he came into her life. 

Gasping for air, his mouth never left her skin as he made his way slowly down her neck. “Good morning, my love,” she said breathlessly.

His hand found her breast and began to knead it as he made his way back up to her mouth, nipping her earlobe as he whispered, “Good morning.” 

She arched into his touch, his breath, his voice. Everything about him set her body into a ravenous, unending hunger. As he pulled his head back to take a look at her, she saw the lust and love and playfulness that only came out around her. 

Gwyn had lifted her head to kiss him again when a sound rang out from across the room. Her head unceremoniously flung back down to the pillow as she let out a groan of frustration. Her damn cell phone was going off. 

By the second ring, she was trying, and failing, to push Azriel off of her to see what her pain-in-the-ass boss wanted. Gwyn knew it had to be him because no one else would try to call her at 6am except for him.

“I need to grab that,” Gwyn sighed in exasperation. Azriel took her tone as a challenge and pinned her arms to her sides while he kissed down her body slowly. 

“Let it go to voicemail,” he said, his voice full of predatory intent at her half-hearted protest. 

She sighed again, letting herself succumb to his efforts of convincing her to forgo the call. The sound of phone ringing became little more than white noise as it was overcome by the pounding need flooding her body. The moment it finally stopped ringing, she could feel Az’s smirk from where he was situating himself between her thighs. His face was just inches away from her core. Gwyn tried to wiggle and get him closer to where she really wanted him, but Azriel’s hands held firm while he dipped his face, aiming for the parts of her that were already aching to be touched by him. 

Instead, Azriel bit down on the skin above her hip bone hard enough that she let out a yelp. Her eyes met his in protest. With unfiltered lust and dominance, he said, “Only good girls get what they want, Gwyneth. Are you going to be a good girl for me?” She groaned at that, her need to please and be pleased filled her every thought. 

“Yes, sir,” she breathlessly pleaded. Azriel’s beautiful face shifted into a knowing look that sent more heat rushing between her legs. 

Just as he began lifting her nightgown past her hips, another sound blasted through the space between them. Looks like both of them forgot to turn their phones to silent. He buried his head into her stomach and groaned, knowing that if they were both being contacted it had to be important. 

“Stay right here,” he all but growled to her as he stood up and grabbed his phone from its charging spot on the dresser.

“What do you want?” Azriel said as he picked up, letting all of his annoyance lace his every word. He and Rhysand chatted idly back and forth for a few minutes, and all of the lust that had overcome her moments ago vanished with every word. Gwyn sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed to see if she could overhear the conversation.

“I don’t know where she is,” he replied to Rhys but gave Gwyn a mocking smile that made her realize that they were talking about her. “I’ll find her and let her know. See you later, brother.” 

He set his phone down and prowled over to where Gwyn sat on her knees at the edge of the bed. Azriel wrapped a light hand around her throat, just enough that he could angle her head so she was forced to look up to him. “I told you not to move, Angel.” 

She stepped off of the bed to stand before him before swatting at his wrist, and he ultimately let go. Rising onto her toes, Gwyn kissed his nose, smirking at his annoyance. “And I told you I needed to answer my phone. Apparently neither of us like being told what to do.” 

Before he could react, she danced out of his arms and towards the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for work,” she called out behind her. Feeling his gaze blaze a hole through her back, she threw over her shoulder, “Alone. We will never make it out of here on time if you join me.” 

His answering grumble of frustration was all it took to make her laugh as she entered the bathroom and started the shower. 

Thirty minutes later, she was clean, her hair dried and styled. Gwyn made her way over to the makeup vanity Azriel had gotten for her. It was set up in front of the floor to ceiling windows of the dressing room, giving her an unobstructed view of Velaris bathed in the glow of the sunrise. 

Her teal dressing gown clung to her still damp skin as she sat to begin her makeup. Azriel strode in a minute later, still wet from his shower, and began to get dressed for the day. He picked out his usual black button down and black dress pants. His wardrobe rarely changed, usually only replacing his button down with a black sweater in the colder months. Gwyn couldn’t help but stare unabashedly at Azriel when he dropped his towel, leaving him bare behind her. If they didn’t have places to be, she would sink down in front of him and show him just how much she wanted to see his tie wrapped around her neck instead of his. 

Azriel cleared his throat and her eyes darted up to meet his through the mirror. His smirk was full of male pride, giving her a look that seemed to say that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Gwyn bit her lip with the thought of what they would be doing if they could have it their way today. 

“My eyes are up here, Angel.” He teased. She couldn’t help the light blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks under his knowing gaze.

“I know,” she retorted. She sent him a look that blazed with the promise of all that she was ready to do to him when they finally had the time together tonight. 

Gwyn went back to getting ready, and as she was putting on her finishing touches she sighed with annoyance. Azriel furrowed his brows, and he strode over to stand behind her. His scent - a mix of cedar, mist, and sandalwood- enveloped her. She couldn’t help but lean back into him, close her eyes, and take all of him in. 

“What's wrong?” He asked as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. 

Another annoyed sigh left her lips. “You know those earrings Catrin got me for our birthday? I left them at my apartment and I wanted to wear them today.” 

He chuckled. “I told you that you should just move in with me already. You already spend nearly every day here anyways. You even brought Shadow here.” As if she were agreeing with the man behind her, Shadow meowed from her cat tree in the corner of the room. 

“I spend every day here because your apartment is 10 minutes away from the Mayor’s office and I have been assigned there for the last month by our oh-so-secretive client. Let me guess, Rhys was calling to confirm our 2pm appointment with him?” 

Azriel hummed in agreement as his hands began lazily dragging up and down Gwyn’s arms, her skin pebbling under his touch. 

She turned around to face him, and he sat down on the bench beside her. Her head rested on his shoulder as she spoke the next words, “You know why I can’t move in. If our boss found out… they might not let us work together anymore. I want to tell the world about us- you know that, Az. I feel… selfish. For wanting it all. To live with you, to be able to walk into work and kiss you. To be able to hold your hand when we go out with our friends.” Gwyn paused there, her lip quivering with emotion. Sensing the weight that this had on her heart, Azriel did the only thing he could do and held her hand in between his on his lap. “I just don’t want to put all we’ve worked so hard for at risk.” 

She finally looked towards him, his gaze tilted downwards towards their clasped hands. “I know, Gwyn. You’re right.” He shook his head and let out a bittersweet laugh. “You’re always right. Even when you’re wrong, you’re right. I’m selfish too. I want to build our life together. I want it all.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them contemplating the difficult path ahead. Finally, Gwyn let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She went to rest her head onto his shoulder again and whispered, “Do you think…” she swallowed, her fear rising into her throat. “I am willing to risk it. All of it. We deserve to have it all.”

She felt his lips caress the top of her head softly, like a gentle breeze on an early autumn morning. “I am too. I want it all with you, Gwyn. You make me feel… alive. In a way that I have never felt before and I never want to feel again if it isn’t with you.” Her head tilted up to meet his gaze, silver lined his hazel eyes as she joined her lips with his in a soft and promising kiss. 

When they finally parted, their foreheads rested on each other in content bliss. Gwyn hated to pop that perfect bubble, but she finally said, “We will tell them all soon. After this mission. If this is the last one we might have with each other, let's go out with a bang.”

Azriel’s gaze bore into hers, spearing her with all of his love and admiration, “It’s a deal, Angel. I’m all yours. From now until the heavens claim us.” 

And they sealed their deal with a kiss.  

—---

Gwyn entered her office at 7:55am. Setting her own coffee on her receptionist desk, she brushed down her skirt and checked her appearance one last time in the hall mirror before knocking on the looming double doors behind her. 

“Enter,” a rough male voice boomed.

Gwyn took a deep breath, plastered on her most convincing fake smile, and opened the door to Beron Vanserra’s office. 

“Good morning, sir. I have your coffee for you. It is your usual, of course.” She said cheerily as she strode over to his desk. She made sure that her blouse was low enough cut that he could barely see the lace of her bra peeking out as she bent over to set down his coffee. His eyes glazed over for a moment as she noted him taking in her cleavage.

Target acquired.

Beron Vanserra had been the mayor of Velaris for the last 2 years. As the years went by, any progress that the city had gained by their last mayor, Tarquin Summers, vanished after Tarquin’s untimely death. It was suspected within her circle that Beron was behind Tarquin’s death, but nothing was ever proven. That is, until now. She had copied the last of his encrypted files yesterday, and given the thumb drive to Azriel so he could begin decoding them. The faster she could get the proof to their client, the sooner she would be able to stop working for this misogynistic asshole and go back to her real job.

“Thank you, Gwyneth,” he crooned. Gwyn was sure he thought it was sexy, especially coming from a man in power. But to her, it was just downright creepy. 

“You’re welcome, sir,” she said with a bow of her head. He liked his women submissive, meek and soft-spoken. If the next few days go according to plan, he wouldn’t be a pain in her ass anymore. “You have a meeting with Eris at 10am, then a press conference to discuss the opening of the new community center at 1pm. I do have that appointment I mentioned to you before at 2pm today, so Cressida will be taking my place as your assistant for the press conference and the rest of the day. Then we have the masquerade ball fundraiser tomorrow night.” 

He nodded along, not really listening to her. His eyes darted down to her breasts every few seconds, as if he thought Gwyn wouldn’t notice. Such a fucking pig. 

“Of course, Gwyneth. I want you to get all pampered before the fundraiser. I will have a dress sent to your apartment so you will look… appropriate for the function. Your ticket is on your desk. Have Cressida come in tomorrow so you can spend the time getting ready. I want you looking your best.” He said in a punishing and demanding tone. She’s sure this act must have worked for him before, but he was old enough to be Gwyn’s father. There was no way in hell she was getting within spitting distance of his dick if she had any say in it.

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it.” She bowed her head again in thanks. “I cannot wait. It’s going to be a night to remember.” If all goes well with their plan, it would be the last free one he would have for a while. 

“Get to work and I will see you tomorrow, Gwyneth.” He purred at her. This man was a nightmare. The dress he would send to her now empty apartment would probably be extremely revealing, leaving nothing for the imagination. He preferred women to be seen, not heard. Beron even had a god's damned wife who would be on his arm all night. Just the idea of him ogling her in front of Amara made Gwyn sick to her stomach. It had happened enough times during her tenure here than she pitied the poor woman. And she had only been here a month. 

“See you tomorrow, sir. Let me know if I can be of further assistance.” She bowed her head once more before leaving. Gwyn let her hips sway a little more in her short pencil skirt, just for an added measure. His gaze coated her skin like oil, and it took everything in her not to shudder. 

The more he is focused on your ass, the less he notices that you are plotting his downfall. 

She had to keep reminding herself of that.

Approaching her desk, she found an envelope on her keyboard with her name scrawled upon it. She opened it up to find one ticket to the fundraiser and a handwritten note that said, ‘I cannot wait to see you in your dress tomorrow. I have such fun plans for us.’

She let out a shudder of disgust and placed the ticket in her purse so she wouldn't forget, right next to the one she had stolen last week just in case her flirting didn’t work. 

The only interaction she had with anyone that morning was when Eris Vanserra arrived for his appointment with his father. Eris was the vice-mayor, and the eldest of Beron’s seven sons. All but his youngest, Lucien, were currently in politics or studying it. 

Eris strode over to her desk with the swaggering confidence she suspected any son of Beron’s would possess. He leaned on the wall beside the door to her back, forcing her to yield her position to accommodate him. “Hello, gorgeous. Long time no see.” He said with a knowing smirk. 

Eris wasn’t nearly as bad as his father. He was only 7 years her senior- and if she squinted… and took a few shots of tequila, she might even call him handsome. Gwyn had a type, though: tall, gorgeous, broody nerds named Azriel. Eris didn’t fit the bill for 4 out of 5 of those criteria. 

“Hi, Eris. It hasn’t been long enough,” she sneered out. Gwyn only had to be nice to Beron, afterall. She already had one foot out the door here, and she didn’t want to keep up the charade any longer than necessary.

“You wound me, Berdara.” He mocked as he tipped his head back and put a palm to his heart in fake anguish. “I was hoping we would be seeing more of each other, not less.”

“In your dreams, Vanserra.” She scoffed. How she wished to yell to the world that she had the sexiest, smartest, and deadliest boyfriend in all of Prythian. 

His eyes raked over her outfit and he shot her a smirk, “Did my dad make you wear that or do you just enjoy dressing like a porn star?” 

She bristled under his knowing gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Eris. I am dressed perfectly for work.” His smirk only grew, as if he knew something that she didn’t.

Before he could respond, the doors behind him opened, revealing Beron in one of his tempers. Gwyn couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Eris in that regard. No one deserved to be on the short end of Beron’s temper. She had witnessed enough people walking out of his office dejected and broken; a fate she wouldn’t wish upon her worst enemy.

Eris would be his last victim if her mission went according to plan.

—--

By noon, she was finally out of that cesspit of a capital building. With two hours to spare, she decided to wander the Rainbow of Velaris before eventually going to the River House, Rhysand’s base of operations which housed all of the Night Corp. Gwyn was smart, so smart that she graduated top of her class at Velaris University, receiving her Masters in both Comparative Literature and Digital Forensic Engineering. She had started the Valkyrie training program in her Freshman year of college where she met her two best friends, Nesta and Emerie. It was a female empowerment self defense club that combined krav maga, meditation, and an ancient form of fighting called Pankration-courtesy of Gwyn’s fascination with Ancient History. Although it had once been Catrin’s dream to advocate for female empowerment, her death pushed Gwyn to start the Valkyrie Training Program in her honor. Once Gwyn had exhausted all of her knowledge on the subjects, she found a Kinesiology graduate student to help train them in exchange for being subjects for his graduate research. He in turn recruited his brother, a martial arts specialist, to help as well.

And that was how she first met Azriel. 

They hated each other at first, always butting heads and arguing on how to combine ancient techniques with Krav Maga. Azriel was also getting a Masters in Computer Engineering at the time, and ultimately was the reason she fell in love with Digital Forensic Engineering. It wasn’t until her Sophomore year of college that she found out what Azriel and Cassian were really in college for. The Valkyrie’s had shifted their training, schoolwork, and lives to join their friends in on their venture. Cassian and Azriel’s other brother, Rhysand, was slated to take it up running it after he graduated. His father, a cruel and wicked man, had left the business to Rhys and his cousin Mor in his will. 

Of course, when people mention they’re taking over a family business, they usually mean something like a jewelry shop or a chain of restaurants. Not a multi-million dollar marketing agency that was actually a cover for a multi-billion dollar espionage and assassination institution. 

And when she entered college, with her twin Catrin by her side, she did not expect to come out of it a single child and signed on as an espionage consultant to work right under Azriel. Nesta and Cassian danced around each other for a while, but while Nesta was the CFO for the marketing side of the business and Cassian was the head of security for both companies, Nesta ran out of protests and finally decided he was hers. Nesta then introduced everyone to her sister Feyre, who had been going to an art college nestled in the Rainbow. Rhysand was enamored with her ever since. After she ended her toxic relationship with her ex-fiance, she and Rhysand were inseparable. She now worked on an as-needed basis as a graphic designer, art consultant and appraiser. But mainly, she spent her days teaching painting lessons in her art studio in the Rainbow and taking care of their one-year-old son, Nyx. 

Once Emerie and Mor took one look at each other they were inseparable. Mor was Rhys’s right hand woman, and the media manager of the Night Corp. Emerie was the only one who needed convincing to join in the venture. She had always wanted to own a small shop selling incense, organic clothing, and eco-friendly products. However, Emerie’s degree in international policy made her an unstoppable negotiator. When she and Mor were sent in to close a difficult deal, they always came out on top. No matter if that meant they signed a contract or had to dump a body bag in the Sidra. She did stay loyal to her roots and opened a small Etsy shop to sell her organic goods. 

Everyone managed to get everything they wanted, but it seemed like Az and Gwyn’s futures were as unattainable as ever. Gwyn worked in intelligence and was the top espionage operative in the business, Azriel was her direct supervisor in his role as head of Cyber Security and Intelligence. Falling in love had complicated things and they still couldn’t find a way to make it all work, even after being romantically involved for over a year. 

At least being a spy for the Night Corp beats being the secretary for Beron Vanserra any day of the week.

Besides getting to work with her best friends and having “badass” as her unofficial title, she selfishly loved having a cool work nickname. It made her feel like a spy in a cheesy movie. Cassian was the General, Rhys was the High Lord, Azriel was the Spymaster, and Gwyn was the Priestess. What started out as Az’s nickname for her due to her religious upbringing, he said watching her get into the zone was like watching a priestess praying to the Mother. At some point, that nickname went from one of teasing to a term of endearment.

After completing some shopping and stopping at Feyre’s studio to say hi to her and Nyx, she finally made her way to the River House. It was situated along the sidra just a short ten minute walk from Feyre’s studio, just so she could be close in case of an emergency. 

As Gwyn reached the penthouse floor of the complex, she was greeted by Nuala and Cerridwen, two of her fellow spies and the receptionists who dealt with their more nuanced clients. 

“Afternoon, Ladies!” Gwyn chimed as she strode towards Rhysands office. 

“Morning, Gwyn,” the two chimed in unison. It used to bother Gwyn that they were always so in sync with each other, but she bet that truly stemmed from her jealousy over the twins and the bond that they shared. Being close to them helped Gwyn remember the good things about Catrin, not just the bitter end of their connection. 

Gwyn came to Rhysand’s sleek black double doors which were open just slightly. She knocked as a courtesy, even though she knew that if his door was ever open like that it meant that anyone could come in without notice. 

As she entered the office, Rhys was seated casually behind his desk, and before him lay Azriel. She was grateful neither of them had superhuman hearing, or else they would have heard her heart skip a beat at seeing Azriel for the first time since their discussion that morning. She took all of one second to school her face into neutrality before coming in and sitting next to him before Rhys’s desk. 

“You wanted to talk to me, Rhys?” Gwyn said, wanting to get straight to business. The sooner they could finish this meeting, the sooner she and Az would go home and finish what they started this morning. 

“Yes. Afternoon to you too, Gwyn,” Rhys chuckled in a mocking tone. 

She smiled at the man who had become more of an older brother to her than a boss. They had bonded when Catrin died as Rhys had lost his sister and mother to a car accident a few years prior. Gwyn reminded him of his little sister, and Rhys had the same tenacity and quick mind that Catrin had. By this point, Rhys knew that if Gwyn wanted to get right to business, it was nothing personal. 

She had always hated the idea of mixing her personal life with work, but now those lines were as blurred as she could possibly make them. 

“Good afternoon, Rhys. The weather is lovely. I stopped by the studio to see your wife. You are going to have a fantastic time getting the green paint out of every nook and cranny of that wild son of yours. Feyre’s forest-scape palette ended up all over him,” Gwyn teased him. Nyx was adorable and everytime Gwyn saw him of late, she always imagined what he would look like with red hair and freckles instead of his black hair and blue eyes. 

Rhys just laughed and sighed at that. His son was a hellion, and growing up in an art studio gave him free reign to get into as much trouble as his little heart could handle. 

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I would like to know why you called me out of my assignment early today.” She shot a wary glare towards Azriel as she said, “And why are you here, Az? Shouldn’t you be decoding the information on the flashdrive I gave you?”

Az glared right back at her. They both knew better than to think that the glares given to each other here were real. It was all just an act. “I finished decoding them last night. We got everything we needed. The final hit is good to go.”

Gwyn bristled. Last night. He hadn’t even mentioned it to her. The shock on her face was genuine as she said, “Seriously? Their encoding must be garbage if you could get through them within a few hours.”

Az threw her a wry smirk, “I'm just that good, Priestess. Do keep up.” 

They could have kept this going forever, but Rhys cleared his throat and said, “Now that we have the evidence we need, the final stage of the mission can begin . You two will need to infiltrate the fundraiser gala tomorrow. Gwyn, you got the tickets?” She nodded in response.  “Good. You will need to find a way to get Beron alone with you, where we will then ambush you two. He will never suspect your involvement. From there, it's up to you,” he gestured to Az, “if you want to make him talk or not. I trust our client will give you the rest of the details.”

“And who, pray tell, is our client High Lord?” Gwyn teased. Finally, finally she was going to meet the client who had been paying millions in advance to gather the information we needed to incriminate Beron and get him wiped off this planet permanently. 

“Glad you asked, Priestess,” Rhys said with a knowing smile. He pressed the button on his desk and said, “Bring him in, Nuala.” 

A moment later the door swung open. And standing there was none other than Eris Vanserra himself. 

[starfall-spirit]

Random ? Irrelevant to Any Fic

[shallyne]

All Our Lives - Feysand Writing Circle

Hello,

I'm Shallyne and a few days ago I posted that I'd like to create a Feysand Writing Circle, and I'd like to a explain a few things.

How did this idea form?

A few months ago, I posted a little poem for an incoming fic called "All Our Lives" but maybe some of you realized I didn't continue this idea. The reason wasn't that I disliked the idea then but I had so many ideas and the overall idea has so much potential and my brain created half a fic and then jumped to the next idea. A few weeks ago I started playing with the idea to start a writing circle and when I stumbled upon All Our Lives again, I thought this was an amazing opportunity.

What is the original idea of All Our Lives?

The original idea was to create a fanfiction which chapters were pretty much just oneshots. Every chapter is Feysand in a different universe. The idea was that all the oneshots are Feyre and Rhysand in a different lifetime, their souls always finding back to each other.

How can I participate in this Writing Circle?

You got an idea and want your story to be part of the All Our Lives writing circle? That's amazing, I'm so glad! It's not hard, you just click on the title of this post or -> here <- and you will be transferred to the AO3 Feysand Writing Circle collection. There you can add your fic to the collection.

But you don't have an AO3 account or want to stay anonym? This is not a problem at all! You can send me your fic in my ask box or send me a message here on Tumblr, where I will give you my email-address to send me your fic. I will then post it on my account but of course I will mention you, or say that it was send by an anon, to post.

What are the rules?

The rules are simple!

Every fanfiction in this Writing Circle will be a oneshot

There is no time limit

The word count is up to you

Every oneshot will play in a different universe

Stay respectful to other participants! You don't have to like every idea but that doesn't mean you need to tell them.

What do you mean with "universe"?

When I say different universe I mean that the fics are supposed to play outside of the canon acotar universe. You are free to chose from almost any universe, as long as it's not harmful to any group of people. For example: Book Universes (Throne of glass, Howls Moving Castle, Classics, Shatter Me, The Cruel Prince, etc.,), Show and Movie Universes (MCU, Gilmore Girls, Peaky Blinders, Burlesque, 50 first dates, Back to the Future, Wizard of Oz, etc.,), different time periods (Medieval, the Renaissance, Victorian, ancient Greece) or decades (20's, 50''s, 60's, 80's, 90's 00's), or even universes that you don't have a name for but so not play in the canon acotar universe (Modern AU, Regency AU, Angels, Demons, Mermaids, etc.,)

What is not allowed?

Canon acotar Universe

Multichapters

Another main couple (see something else?)

Something else?

Yes! So, you can include every other character, from the acotar or SJM universe, and any other ship but the main couple will always be Feysand. The whole story is about them and finding each other in all their lives, so writing around another couple would be pointless for this Writing Circle.

When will the Writing Circle begin?

Technically, you can already post whenever your ready. I would not take your fic down if you want to do that, it's allowed but if you want a direct date, I'd like June 1st as a starting date

I can't tell you when I will be able to contribute but I will be so excited to see your fics, my friends! Everyone is welcome and I hope you will participate!

Your question wasn't answered yet?

Then please don't shy away from sending me an ask or send me a message so we can find an answer

You can always find this post linked on my pinned post

[writingcirclecircle]

Hey!

You with the ideas and the words!

Want to join a writing circle?

If your answer is Yes! Or Maybe? Or huh? Check out this link (it very helpfully explains the goals of THIS writing circle and how to join).

Whether you write fanfic or original work, you are welcome!

Discord server coming up soon!

[did-i-do-this-write]

Hello fellow writers 👀

My incredible friends and I are on our "writing retreat" this weekend and we were wondering if anyone had any fun WIP questions for us! We may all answer or only one or two of us will answer here on Tumblr, but we'd love some help stirring up fun conversations and ideas about our WIPs 🤗

Feel free to drop an ask in my inbox or into @harps-for-days's inbox to check in on our writing retreat journey

[afieldofcrowns]

Fall Writing Circle (2022)

Fall Writing Circle (2022)

As the air gets chilly and the leaves take their rest after a long summer of absorbing the sun’s rays kinda nonstop, I invite you to join me online on Tuesday evenings with your computer and the writing implement of your choice to throw down some words. Back together with Frog in Hand (who are up to a wide array of things this fall, including a touring dance photography exhibit, a Worldbuilding…

[asassydork]

Are there any writing circles out there????? I need creatives in my life. 🙏🏻

[pemprika]

an untainted innocence

[quiddie]

I find idioms derived from scripture to be particularly fascinating. They seem to have this extra weight to them. One of my favorites is “out of the mouths of babes” which speaks to the surprise of wisdom coming from unexpected sources.

The phrase’s origin is a particularly funky translation of Psalm 8:2: “Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, That thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.”

Such evocative phrasing. It *almost* paints a picture.

Anyway, it’s Thursday.

See you soon.

[customboytoy]

all this forcemasc posting is futile tbh because nothing I post is ever gonna encapsulate transmasc bottom dysphoric yearning more than this fucking picture 

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Sixteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Lucien Vanserra could kill me and I would be honored. Cannon typical violence. Some angst. Lots of fun

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Lucien stood in disbelief, mouth opening and closing. Words stuck in his throat.  

You knew as his eyes roamed over your features that he was hunting for some mark of Helion’s that you’d inherited, whether it be the set of your eyes, the curve of your jaw, the slope of your nose, or even the tilt of your sharp ears. But he came up empty. Whatever features you did share with Helion could have easily been shared by two strangers. It was how you’d gotten away with working with him at the Day Court and attending balls by his side. 

But there were some things that went deeper than skin and bones. He could barely make it out in the hum of your power and the faint, charming glow in your eyes. It was something that spoke of warmth and sparkling intellect. A sliver of the sun given form. 

You were Helion’s daughter. 

You were… you were his sister.

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I understand this must be a surprise. Perhaps not the kind of surprise you were hoping for.” 

“You’re my sister,” Lucien finally breathed out, and the wind, so harsh and biting before, ceased.

“Half-sister… technically.” 

“I don’t go by halves.” 

The sharp, sudden rush of cold air into your lungs had you shivering. Lucien noticed and without thinking he reached out with his power, wrapping heat around your body until you may as well have been perched in front of a roaring fire. His magic smelled like woodsmoke and balsam.

“You’re my sister.” He repeated the phrase a few more times, finding it more believable with each swirl of the words around his tongue. 

Elain had known this was coming and had given him a cryptic warning, but that did nothing to lessen the excitement spreading in his chest with each passing second. 

You watched him wearily, hands clasped over your body and eyes furrowed, like you couldn’t tell if he was upset. Which was ridiculous. How could Lucien ever be upset by this?

“You’re my sister!” 

A sharp laugh exited his body that grew and grew until you felt like you were floating on the waves of his happiness. He rushed forward, hoisting you in the air and spinning you around like you weighed nothing. Wind rushed past your ears as the world blurred. 

He gently deposited you back on solid ground.

“How old are you? How long have you known about Helion? Where have you been all this time?” He asked the questions in rapid succession, heart hammering away in his chest. 

He had a sister. A sister. 

“I’m three hundred and forty-three.”

He smiled. He’d always wanted a younger sibling. A younger sister to be exact that he could teach to fight and hunt and ride with more support than he’d ever been afforded. 

“I’ve known about Helion since I was little.” Lucien’s smile slipped at that revelation. “And I’ve been in the Day Court in one of the athenaeums. It was my home up until the point where Koschei burned down my house and I got saddled with Beth’s book. I’ve been here ever since. Although I never expected for any of this—” You gestured vaguely at the House, the sky, at Lucien, “to happen. Not that I’m upset!” You added quickly. 

“What was it like? Growing up in the Day Court?” He looked you up and down again, searching for scars or broken bones that had never healed right. But from what he could tell, you were whole. 

He clenched his fists tightly until you answered.

“It was safe. Lonely, but safe.” 

“Good.” He breathed out in relief. “Good.” 

Azriel watched everything from the deck that wrapped around the back of the house. The wind carried the tang of salt, opening his lungs and easing the pain in his chest that wrapped around him like a vice. He kept his wings pulled in tight and hands clasped behind his back. He was a slice in the fabric of the universe, unmoving and still. 

And he missed you. Gods did he miss you. 

“We shouldn’t stand so close,” Azriel murmured. 

His voice was ragged, filled with more gravel than the walkway that snaked through Elain’s garden. Weighed down with secrets that felt more like anvils. 

Elain dropped the empty bucket onto the deck followed by the clang of her spade. The shovel lay discarded in the field, the ground marked by neat lines of overturned earth. She cupped her hands and blew into them, breathing life back into her stiff fingers. 

Twenty minutes ago he’d seen you run beneath his window, racing towards the Sidra with your robes hiked up to your knees so you could try and keep up with Lucien’s long strides as he pulled you along by your hand, red hair streaming behind him like a bundle of ribbons. 

You’d been calling out for him to slow down, your voice loud and breathless.

And after everything that had happened, the things he’d seen, he couldn’t stop himself from walking down to the deck to watch you. 

Now you stood at the water’s edge with your hands outstretched, dutifully holding onto every stone that Lucien plucked from the river. Your head tipped to the side in curiosity.

His childhood in Autumn had not been kind, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been happy moments sprinkled in amongst the sorrow. There in the woods with bejeweled treetops and diamond glass rivers he’d learned how to swim and fish and hunt. He’d wrestled with his brothers, fallen in love, and gained the confidence and freedom to eventually travel the Courts and make his own way in the world. 

But you’d been lonely your whole life. Trapped indoors with nothing but your books for company. You’d never learned how to swim. You’d never dug through the soil for slimy worms to go fishing. You’d never fallen asleep beneath a glittering sky, fire smoke curling in the air and the taste of chestnuts lingering on your tongue and filling your belly. 

It had been a different kind of sorrow, but no less real. 

Lucien aimed to change some of that. Your mere presence beside him, as hesitant as it was, filled him with a happiness he couldn’t name. 

He had his trousers rolled up to his thighs revealing powerful legs and freckled, caramel-brown skin. He didn’t mind the cold waters rolling over his hands as he tracked the riverbed for the smoothest, flattest stones. Every time he looked back you were either watching him or examining each stone with narrowed eyes like you’d find some algorithm carved into their edges that would tell you what made them so special for the task at hand. 

Azriel couldn’t hear what you two were saying, and he didn’t send his shadows out to investigate, but soon you were tugging off your boots, then your socks, and tying the long length of your robes around your waist. You gingerly dipped your toes into the river and immediately leapt back. 

Lucien’s laugh rolled over the earth, full of warmth and joy. He was grinning so wide Azriel could see the whites of his teeth and his shaking shoulders.

Inch by inch you walked into the river up to your calves and Lucien dunked his cupped hands into the cold water. 

“Don’t you dare! Lucien!” 

Then you were shaking your head, slapping Lucien’s hands away with a shout when he tossed the water at your face, and threatening to launch the black stones back into the river for him to fetch. Your toes were already starting to go numb.

Azriel’s heart gave a painful lurch, even as he smiled softly at the sight of you. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to give them the wrong idea.” Azriel swallowed and turned his gaze down to where a plump sparrow was digging around in the grasses. 

Elain ignored him, dropping her arms onto the wooden railing and staring out. She let out a lovely, longing sigh and Azriel just knew she was strumming the bond within her chest to feel Lucien on the other side. 

The red-haired male looked up to meet her gaze and smiled softly. You also looked up, and then immediately looked away with rosy cheeks.

“Lucien knows where I stand. He… he’s finally beginning to trust me again.” 

He’d been so eager to give her his heart the first time around, and she’d crushed it beneath her dainty shoes, too angry at the life that had been torn away to look at the one she’d been given. This time around she was determined to earn Lucien’s love, no matter how easy he made it for her. No matter how many times he told her it wasn’t something that had ever needed to be earned.

“It took some time to gain that back.” She shifted. “But then again, we were lucky. We knew what we were to each other. You still haven’t told Y/n you’re mates.” 

“You know about that?”

Elain rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious, because it was. 

“I don’t think I can tell her, Elain.” 

“And why not?” 

Azriel hesitated. 

Here was a truth he hadn’t been able to express to his brothers — the truth they didn’t understand: They were good, decent males, and when it had come to their mating bonds they’d treated them with the respect they deserved. They’d been patient. They’d never tried to force a hand that wasn’t theirs. 

But Azriel was… wrong. In so many ways he was wrong. 

He either waited too long or he moved without thinking. He fell into obsession like a starling with clipped wings. He scrounged for scraps of affection where he wasn’t supposed to and brooded when it inevitably blew up in his face. He’d been trying to take his time with you. He’d been trying to do it right. He was… 

He was already in love with you. 

He’d been in love with you for some time now.

Elain smiled, still staring towards the river. 

She had loved Azriel once. Not in the way she loved Lucien and not in a way that had been good for them, but still it had been love of some kind. She could feel the waves rolling off his body as he came to his quiet realization, and it felt very different from the way he’d felt about her and very similar to the way she felt about Lucien. 

“I love her, Elain.” He whispered the words like they were fragile as spun sugar, ready to dissolve the moment they left his lips. 

“She’ll say yes to the bond. I’ve seen it.”

Azriel let out a broken, strangled noise and looked at Elain, begging for more. “Even after—”

“Yes. Even after what that boy made you do. Even after what she learned when she touched your hand.” She looked down at Azriel’s hands, leather gloves worn and supple. She gave them a squeeze. “A year ago I had a vision of a white bird flying out of the sun with a golden ribbon tied to one of its feathers. Its wings were dipped in ink so she could leave a trail along the ground for a beast of shadow to follow.” 

Azriel went still as death. “And then what happened?” 

Elain looked up at him, eyes glittering. “She flew to the base of a mountain, laid down, and has been waiting ever since. She’s been waiting for you. For someone who understands what it means to be lonely and what it’s like to hope for more.” 

And Azriel did exactly that. He hoped for more. 

More time with you. More unrestrained touches. More midnight conversations until your eyes were threatening to shut. 

Something changed then. Elain’s brown, doe eyes turned misty and flat. Her voice dropped and the hand she reached out to grab hold of his arm was cold as ice. 

“You need to be careful, Az,” she warned. “Don’t let her go into the mirror. She may not come out.” She clawed at his arms. “Az, you need to be careful. The mirror…” 

He gripped her shoulders, stabilizing her as she swayed on her feet. 

“Elain, what—” But her vision was already gone. No matter how hard she tried to hold on it was like trying to keep water in a cracked cup. 

Lucien kept his arm perfectly parallel with the earth, drew back, and snapped his wrist at the last second. The stone flew out over the glassy river and kept kissing the surface in weakening arches before it was eventually swallowed up in a dollop of salt. 

“Eight.” 

Lucien looked at you incredulously. “I counted nine.” 

“Eight skips,” you argued. “Males always overestimate.” 

“And what experience do you have with males?”

None. Except for that one glorious day you’d clung to Azriel like the world was finally peaceful. It was nowhere near the level of experience you suspected Lucien must have after centuries spent bouncing around from Court to Court. Nowhere near the level of experience Azriel or the others had when it came to touch. 

You bristled. “Enough.” 

Lucien smirked like he knew you were lying and held out his hand for another stone. Soon it too was lost to the river. 

“How many this time?” 

You twisted your lips to the side, but had to admit, “Nine.”

He was grinning. 

“Come on.” He held out his hand for you, beckoning you deeper into the river. “Your turn. Just like I showed you.”

“This is a terrible idea.” 

“Come on!”

“I will kill a fish, Lucien.” 

There was a playful roll of his eyes. “Y/n—”

“I’ll end up throwing a rock so hard into the water I’ll give an innocent, unsuspecting fish brain damage.” So what if you were being melodramatic. That did nothing to counter the fact that your hand-eye coordination was shit. 

“Y/n, you’ll be fine. I promise.” 

Wrong.

You were gods awful at this. 

You tried your best to mimic the bend of Lucien’s spine as he let go of his stone, tried to mimic the way he curled his fingers against its rounded edges. But every single one of your throws was either too strong or too weak. Too high or too low. 

You chucked the last rock in your hand but the spin on it — or rather lack thereof — was abysmal. It plopped into the river three yards away with a splash. 

Lucien chuckled, shaking his head as you stomped back onto the beach, swearing with every step as your robes dragged through the water behind you. 

You whirled around and kicked up river water in his direction. 

“Stop laughing!” A smile tugged at your lips even as you said that. 

“You’re doing very well!” 

“Don’t be condescending.”

“I’m not!”

 “I didn’t grow up in the backwoods of Autumn. I’ve never done this before,” you grumbled, your words tinged with embarrassment. 

And thank the Mother you hadn’t. Yes, Lucien had always wanted a sister, but he flinched just to think of the horrors you would have faced if you’d both shared a mother instead of a father. The ways Beron would have bent you until you broke, especially as a female. Sold to the highest bidder and forced to have as many children as possible. A high-end, noble-blooded breeder.

Suddenly he wasn’t laughing anymore. The smile slipped off his bright face. 

You stiffened. Some of the scars on Lucien’s body took on new meaning. 

“I’m sorry, Lucien,” you said. The fun of the afternoon, as embarrassing as it had been for you, fell away. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

You’d only heard whispers of the way Beron treated his children. Which could only mean that they’d endured infinitely worse. 

Lucien shook his head and more of his scarlet hair came tumbling out of his braid. He looked so much like Helion in the sun that you were surprised more people didn’t know. They had the same strong noses, the same build with their tapered waists and strong legs. They even had the same dimple on their left cheeks. 

But maybe Beron and his brothers had known, or at least suspected that he was different, and that had added to Lucien’s torment.

“Maybe one day you could show me though,” you asked hopefully when the silence was on the verge of becoming too loud, “I’ve never been to Autumn — I’ve not been to most places, actually — but I’d like to see it. I could show you the Day Court too.” 

He shook his head slowly, rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think that would be a good idea — visiting the Day Court.” 

That was the issue you’d been tiptoeing around the last two hours. You both knew about Helion, but he was only aware of your existence, not Lucien’s. And it was one thing for you to be revealed as Helion’s daughter — there’d be gossip, attempts on your life, and countless marriage proposals. 

But for Lucien? He’d suddenly find himself face to face with the weight of a crown and an entire Court on his shoulders. You wouldn’t blame him for trying to avoid that fate.

Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “Lucien… Why haven’t you told Helion yet? Beron’s been dead for years now, and I’ve heard only good things about Eris. That he’s honest and fair. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d punish you if you claimed your right to Helion’s Court.”

His bright eyes turned bitter, all laughter disappearing. He dipped his hand into the river, picked up a rock, and chucked it back in. Its edges were too ragged anyway. 

“What makes you think he doesn’t already know?” 

You straightened up as if the answer were obvious. “Trust me, he doesn’t know. If he knew you were his son, he would have found ways to see you grow up. We might have even grown up together.”

 It was a pathetic daydream, but one you’d been thinking about. 

“You’re wrong!” 

The outburst was so sudden, so unlike the Lucien everyone else spoke of that you had to take a few steps back. Smoke rose from his clenched fists and his skin pulsed, glowing with an inner light like he was more ember than fae. 

He blinked rapidly then swore, brushing his salt-stiffened hair back. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but…” He shook his head. “He wouldn’t have come. He didn’t come. He just left me and my mother there with that monster. He must have known what it was like — the things he did to her and the rest of us — but he never showed up. Not for my mother. Not for me.” 

“He didn’t know.” 

You repeated those words with the same conviction you had for everything else you knew to be true. You stepped closer and with the slope of the beach you could face him eye-to-eye. 

“Do you want to know how I know? My mother wanted nothing to do with him when she found out she was pregnant. He had to hear it from one of the healers.  And when I was born she forbade him from visiting, forbade him from even laying eyes on me, but he couldn’t stay away. He found ways to be in my life and protected me as best he could, and when Mom died and I was left on my own, he gave me projects with purpose so I wouldn’t crumble into nothing.” You stabbed your finger against your chest. “He did that for me. Is he a great father? Absolutely not. Is he a decent father? Maybe? Probably not, he wasn’t there most of the time. But he’s trying. I know it’s not the same and we’re still strangers and I understand if you don’t forgive him for abandoning your mother — I wouldn’t — but he would have gone for you.” 

You were breathing hard now. Lucien just stared with shiny eyes and unclenched fists. 

“And I think after everything you’ve been through, you deserve to know what it’s like to have a father who at least tries.” 

The world was too small right now. It was too big. The Sidra had soaked through your skin and your robes were growing heavier and heavier by the second, weighed down by salt water and time. 

“Would you at least consider telling him? Please?” 

Because another pathetic daydream you’d been thinking of recently was that one day it might be you and Helion and Lucien. An imperfect family, but a family nevertheless. That you might not feel so alone anymore. 

Lucien’s throat bobbed and he turned away from you long enough for the crisp wind to dry his tears. 

“Take off your robes. They must be soaked by now. I’ll make sure you don’t go cold.'” His voice was strangled. He cleared his throat. “And I’ll look for more stones. No sister of mine is going to go through life without learning how to skip stones.” 

He threw that word around so casually — sister — like saying it over and over again would somehow make the hundreds of years you’d both spent on your own disappear. 

Clouds gathered steadily overhead painting the world with a wash of grey. But that did nothing to diminish the faint light that emanated from you and Lucien as you waded through the shallows and finally learned to skip stones. Lucien whooped, red hair streaming behind him, and you smiled as your last stone skipped twice over the river before disappearing beneath the surface. 

You leaned back in the tall, dying grasses and sipped on the cardamom tea Elain brought down from the House, listening to the many stories Lucien had gathered over centuries spent traversing Prythian and the Human Lands. You told him about The Alcove, Cherp, your mother, and the books you read, and he listened like it was the most epic tale he’d heard in his entire life. 

Sometimes you both went quiet. It was sobering to think about what you’d both endured alone without your true family. But still… it was good to have one another now. 

When you walked into the packed dining room — barefoot, salt-stained, and rosy from the cold — Lucien pulled out the seat next to him for you, surprising the grey Ione.

Elain dropped gracefully into the chair across from her mate, a knowing smile on her face. 

“Good day?” 

You and Lucien glanced at one another. His golden eye whirred and his russet eye gleamed mischievously. 

You folded your arms over your chest, forcing down the smile that threatened to make its appearance. “The worst.” 

“You’re just upset because you lost,” Lucien teased, casually draping his arm over your shoulder. 

“It was hardly a fair competition. You must have — what? — five-hundred years of experience against me?”

He clasped a hand over his chest. “You wound me, sister. Although, if you must know, I’m four hundred and seventeen.” 

“I’m surprised you’re not a sack of bones on the floor.” 

“I’m not that old.”

“I think I see a few grey hairs here and there.” 

Lucien scoffed, but everyone noticed when he absentmindedly touched his long red locks as the last of the dinner plates materialized on the table. Feyre reached over from beside Lucien and squeezed his hand tightly under the table. 

It wasn’t the drop of Helion’s magic that caused The High Lady’s eyes to glow so brightly. She was just happy. Lucien squeezed her hand back even tighter. 

Azriel was the last to arrive, appearing in the hallway in a swath of shadows like he was stepping out of one of your dreams. He must have flown home today. Mist gathered into droplets that clung to his skin and hair and eyelashes like a thousand diamonds. Not even the faint shadows beneath his eyes could distract from his beauty, and you felt that familiar wash of comfort flow over your body when you caught his scent. 

There was only one available seat left at the table. The one directly across from you and Lucien… and right next to Elain. 

Your stomach dropped. 

The seating arrangement was truly a horrible coincidence. One that no one seemed to recognize until it was too late and Azriel’s chair was screeching over the wooden floor. Both he and Elain shifted in their seats, quietly pulling them further apart. It should have made you feel better that Azriel was trying so hard to distance himself from Elain, but the only thing it emphasized was that they’d used to be so close. 

Cassian looked over nervously at his brother, but Azriel was as impassive as always. The room fell into uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the sounds of chewing and the clinking of silverware. If the House was a person, they would be sweating buckets. 

Cassian coughed and sipped his wine. “So… lovely weather we’re having.” 

Lightning cracked across the darkened sky, followed by rain that began plummeting to the earth in heavy sheets. 

Rhysand leaned over and smacked his brother on the back of his head and Cassian couldn’t even feign annoyance at that. 

“You never fail to have incredible timing, Cassian.” Lucien drank his wine deeply and some of the tension seemed to lift from the table when everyone noticed how happy he still was. The terrible things in the world had not lessened, but Lucien felt lighter than he had in decades.

In proper Helion fashion, he kept the pleasant conversation spinning over the table, ensnaring you with the stories he tossed back and forth with Feyre. 

“How was I supposed to know you’d be crazy enough to try and capture a Suriel?”

“What? Like it was meant to be difficult?”

Lucien smirked and crossed his arms. “Beginner’s luck.”

“What were the second and third times then?” 

“The Suriel being a terrible busybody who was bored and wanted to spill gossip.” 

Feyre flipped him off and he winked in return. 

Azriel did what he always did and sat still and quiet as a mouse, eyes tracing over the flow of conversation like he knew who would speak before they’d even opened their mouths. But his eyes kept lingering on you, a smile tugging at his lips whenever one grew on yours. 

Lucien noticed it the third time it happened. Then the fourth. Then the fifth. Until he found himself watching the Shadowsinger almost as intensely as Azriel was watching you. 

His grip tightened around his silverware. 

“I am not nearly as uptight as Gwyn says I am,” you muttered, pushing around the potatoes on your plate. 

You’d sunk into your seat when, to your embarrassment, the conversation had steered in your direction. Azriel had been the one to do it, casually dropping a comment about how much time you spent in Cagniv Library and the ways in which you’d already influenced the priestesses who operated there. It was the first thing he’d said all day. 

“You made a fifth year apprentice cry.”

“That’s a lie, Nesta, and you know it.” 

Nesta did know it, but you’d been so quiet the past few weeks. She wanted to poke fun if only to make you smile. 

“Fine, that was an exaggeration. But you interrogated Farrah like she was a war criminal. Azriel would have been impressed.” 

“She’s the only expert on Cyerion Age Bauldish folklore and she was missing half the citations for her thesis! It took me ages to track down some of her sources.”

“She can’t cite a book that’s over 2,000 years old with no identifiable author. Or title. Or publishing date.” 

You grumbled under your breath. Something about, “Your library gives me anxiety” and “You’re making me look bad in front of Lucien.”

“Hmmm? Sorry?” Lucien tore his eyes away from where one of Azriel’s shadows had slid under the table and was now wrapping around the leg of your chair in an effort to gain your attention.  

You shook your head. “Nesta’s just trying to make me look bad.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Azriel said softly, so softly he probably hadn’t even meant to say the words aloud. He looked up from his plate, shocked to hear his own voice continue on. “Maybe after this is all done, you could take on the task of reorganizing Cagniv. I’m sure you’d be saving the next Librarian more than a few headaches.”  

Your wide eyes met his across the table and for a brief moment it was like you two were alone and teasing each other over tea in the middle of the night like you used to. Two shadows illuminated by candlelight in a Court that never slept.

You sat up a little straighter. “Is that a challenge?” 

Azriel smiled faintly, “Maybe. Although I’m sure Bryaxis would give you a run for your money.”

You furrowed your brows. “Bryaxis?” 

Rhys smirked, “He’s the resident shadow demon that lives on the bottom floor of Cagniv. He flew down once on a dare and he high-tailed it out of the abyss white as a sheet. He still doesn’t talk about it.”

“Fuck you for bringing that up, Rhys.” Cassian’s hand trembled as he brought his fork up to his lips, “You’ll never let me live that down will you?” 

“You… you have a shadow demon living in your library?” Your face twisted in horror and you slammed your knife down on the table, “Is that why a third of the catalogue is missing from the shelves? I’ve been searching for ages!”

And there it was — that faint twitch of irritation in your eyes that told Azriel you were already contemplating going down to confront Bryaxis yourself. He could imagine how you’d stand there with a hand tucked into your robes, swinging a lantern from the other as you bullied the monster into letting you move the volumes someplace else. How you’d lecture him on the importance of controlling humidity when it comes to parchment preservation, and perhaps how you’d begrudgingly agree that the creature’s darkness had protected the fragile books from light exposure. 

“I knew that’s what you’d focus on,” Azriel said. His voice was deeper than an ocean, and just as full of hidden meaning. He shook his head in disbelief, a small smile gracing his lips. “You just learned you spent months studying with a monster lurking nearby — a monster that has Cassian trembling in the corner—”

“I am not trembling—”

“And you’re not afraid at all. You’re… you’re incredible, Y/n.” 

You pursed your lips, tamping down the delight that threatened to spill over inside of you like champagne bubbles — light and airy and lovestruck. With only a handful of sentences, Azriel had you wishing that everyone else would just leave. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks as Azriel kept looking at you. It was a quiet, intimate undressing without an inch of skin needing to be revealed. 

A tendril of shadow creeped up your arm and tugged your hair. The rest hovered shyly over a bag you recognized as Azriel’s, as if they knew they’d done wrong by ferrying it over from their master’s bedroom. But the timing was so perfect, how could they not? 

With you watching, they tugged open the strings and spilled the contents on the floor. 

To Lucien’s surprise, Azriel’s notorious stone-face went flush with color when he heard the thud of books and realized what his shadows had done. 

“Wait—Y/n—” His chair groaned in protest when he shot to his feet.

But you were already holding them in your hands. 

The Natural Trials and Tribulations of Leonora Bedroot, Three Knocks for A Kiss, and A Touch of Cinnamon. Your favorite books in the entire world. Two copies each. One brand new, and one whose pages were already flared, leather spines lovingly wrinkled. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you flipped through Three Knocks for a Kiss and saw Azriel’s delicate scrawl on every page. Passages had been circled and underlined with his comments left in the margins. Small tabs of paper poked out with more handwritten notes. 

Azriel’s been reading these over and over again for months now. He bought them a week after you came to Velaris because he remembered you liked books that are well loved and full of memory. The nights he couldn’t sleep and dream of you, he’d perch on his windowsill and read until morning came. You’ve given him a peace he’s never known before. 

A kind of peace you thought you’d been alone in feeling. 

The scent of night-chilled mountains and parchment paper filled your nose. 

Azriel bowed his head ever so slightly, eyes focused on your hands now clutching the books like they were gold. 

“I remembered seeing them in your apartment. I was going to give them to you at some point but…” Azriel trailed off, then whispered. “I remember what you told me about your mother reading them to you.” I remember everything you’ve told me. 

“I can keep them?” Your voice was a hush over the room. 

You cradled them protectively against your chest, as if at any moment they’d be torn away from you. You’d been hesitant to buy new copies after the original ones had been burned down in the Alcove. Part of their charm had always been the memories of your mother reading them aloud like they were flowers growing from her lips instead of words, buzzing and honey-laden. The books felt different now, but they still felt like something. They weren’t sterile and blank. They were filled with Azriel and all the good memories he carried with him. Few and far between as they were. 

“They’re yours,” Azriel breathed, “All yours.”  

Lucien looked back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the wetness in your eyes and the thinly veiled adoration in Azriel’s face now that you were looking back at him. A sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him throughout dinner, but he’d repressed it. He couldn’t repress it any longer.

No. Absolutely not. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

He let his shock flow through the bond and looked to Elain for confirmation. 

Please tell me I’m wrong. He begged silently. Anyone but him. Literally anyone but him.

They’d yet to accept the bond, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t read each other like an open book. And right now Lucien was doing nothing to hide his seething temper. 

Elain bit her pale, pink lips and nodded, confirming what he already suspected. Then, in a move of silent permission, she slid her chair six inches away from Azriel’s until she was practically sharing a seat with Nesta. 

“Here we go again,” Nesta groaned and looked at Cassian. You want to get her?

Yeah I got her.

You straightened up, pressing the books to your chest in confusion. What had started off as a graciously uneventful dinner had turned into a moment of beauty that you wanted to preserve for a little while longer.  

But everyone around you parted, leaning back in their chairs and pulling glasses of wine off the table before draining them in one long chug. Even Ione held her plate in her hands, popping a tomato in her mouth with interest. Mor looked nervous clutching a sweaty bottle of wine against her chest. Feyre and Rhys looked resigned and Lucien… Lucien looked livid. After all, he owed Azriel for the Blood Duel.

Cassian hoisted you out of your seat with his arms wrapped firmly around your middle and stepped back and out of the way.

Your eyes widened when Lucien stood up, skin rippling with light and power. He calmly rolled back his sleeves revealing muscular, scarred forearms, then took off his rings one by one and dropped them on the table. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

He wanted to feel it when he beat the Shadowsinger to a pulp.

Oh… Oh shit. 

“Wait—Lucien!”

Lucien gritted his teeth and launched himself over the table. 

Azriel didn’t flinch. His hazel eyes didn’t even flicker in surprise. In fact, you swore you saw them flutter closed in acceptance. 

In another fight, Azriel might have had the advantage of wings and height, but Lucien had the wider build and the fucking motive. He slammed into the Shadowsinger’s chest and together they disappeared beneath the lip of the table before landing in a sprawl on the floor that knocked the air out of Azriel’s lungs. 

Cassian winced when he heard the first of Lucien’s blows land. 

“Let me go!” You kicked and squirmed in his grip, but you would have had more luck fighting a mountain. “Cassian, what the fuck?!”

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. But even I have to admit he had this coming.” There was another bloody crack. “Oh damn that sounds like it hurt.”

“Honestly, I didn't know he had it in him,” was Nesta’s only comment. Ione moved to stand beside the eldest Archeron sister so she could get a better view, a faintly amused smile on her face. 

“I did,” Elain said simply. That was one of the many things she and Lucien had in common. Their general patience and understanding could only stretch so far before snapping. “Ione, perhaps you should go upstairs.”

The older woman looked offended. “Why? This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. Such drama.”

When Helion had fought Azriel, there’d been an elegance to it — something altogether noble about the event as the two stared each other down as equals. 

This was nothing like that. 

Lucien was pissed and even Azriel had to admit that he really, really deserved this one. 

Lucien’s chest heaved, every blow of his fists against Azriel’s face punctuated by snarling words. 

“First you go after my mate—” Punch. “Then my sister—” Punch. Punch. “Are you—” Punch. “Fucking—” Punch. “Kidding me?!”

The last blow sent Azriel’s head snapping back hard enough to crack the floor tiles. Blood splattered from his nose like a spray of paint lobed at a canvas and Azriel knew from his sudden inability to breath that it was broken. 

“Lucien! Stop it!”

“We just redid the tiles,” Rhysand groaned, rubbing his temples. 

Lucien growled and grabbed Azriel by the front of his leathers, throwing him over and onto the table. The long mahogany table, shiny and expensive as hell, snapped in two with a deafening bang. Silverware flew into the air, catching the light like holiday tinsel. Porcelain plates shattered and Azriel finally groaned in pain from the harsh twisting of his wings. The fearsome Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court could only lay there as green peas rolled down on top of him, gravy sinking into his hair. 

“Not the table too,” Rhys whined. He’d had it specially commissioned for the River House. 

Lucien dragged Azriel off the glorified heap of wood chips before tossing him back onto the floor, fist raised in the air. 

“Alright! That’s enough,” Feyre said with a loud clap of her hands. “If you two want to fight, do it outside. I don’t want anyone breaking my house. Again.” 

The River House sighed in relief. 

Lucien paused just long enough for Rhysand to haul the redhead off his brother with little regard for anyone’s pride. 

“Get off me,” Lucien snapped, shoving Rhys away. “I can’t fucking believe this.” 

When Cassian finally let you down, you rushed over to Azriel’s side, swiping the handkerchief Rhys held out for you as you passed. 

Azriel sat on the floor, face impassive despite the brutal angle of his nose and the blood sprayed over his face and neck. You cradled his face, gently nudging it this way and that as you surveyed the damage. 

“Oh Azriel,” you breathed. 

Bruises bloomed over his cheekbones, muddy as paint water. His right eye was almost swollen shut, and his split lips bled anew when he gave you a tentative smile. 

“Hi,” he murmured reverently, leaning against the palm you cupped beneath his jaw.

Lucien gagged. “Can someone rip my eye out again? Both this time, please?”

“Damnit, Lucien!” You held the handkerchief up to Azriel’s nose, trying to stem the flow of blood before it could continue dripping from his chin. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

“Really, Y/n?! You’re defending him?!”

Azriel wrapped one arm protectively around your waist, eyes narrowed in a glare. With the blood coating his face he looked positively murderous. Like he’d done the beating and not Lucien. 

“Don’t yell at her,” he growled, his voice dangerously low. 

“For fuck’s sake.” 

It had been a momentary outburst — a rare occurrence with Lucien that held no anger towards you. But you still felt the flare of Azriel’s power as shadows wrapped around you in a layer so thick you couldn’t see past your waist. 

“Azriel—” You didn’t want another fight. “It's ok.” 

“No. It’s not.” 

Lucien was a mixed bag of emotions and he felt a dozen of them go off at the same time like fireworks. There was rage at the male who had the audacity to lay a hand on you, who’d hurt you if the rumours in Velaris were true. A bitter desire for revenge that still lay heavy on his hands after the utter hell he’d gone through watching Azriel and Elain for years. Protectiveness over you — his sister. And a tiny sliver of shame that grew every time you prodded the Shadowsinger’s bent nose and winced. 

“Do you know?” Lucien’s voice shook. 

“Do I know what, Lucien?” 

He swore and looked at everyone in turn. The members of the Inner Circle were trying their damned hardest not to meet his eyes, nervously angling their gaze towards the ground or out the windows like the evening fog was the most interesting thing they’d ever seen.

Fucking hell. You didn’t know.

Lucien reached down over your shoulder, grabbed Azriel’s nose and shoved it back into place with a loud pop. 

You cringed at the sound, but Azriel didn’t react. He was well acquainted with pain and knew how to hide it. 

He breathed through his reset nose, touching the swore flesh gingerly. “Thank you.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Lucien!” 

He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. Elain chose that moment to quietly slide her hand into his from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder so he was surrounded by the smell of wildflowers. She tapped the center of his chest, right where he’d told her he felt anchored by the bond, and then looked pointedly to where you kneeled on the ground in between Azriel’s legs. 

And Azriel… Azriel looked lost to the world. Centuries spent relegated to the shadows as a Spymaster had wiped away his feelings, at least outwardly. But everyone could plainly see the way he kept his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your warm skin and the settling of his breathing the longer you held onto his jaw with careful fingers. 

Of all the people. It had to be him. 

“The Mother works in mysterious ways,” Elain whispered so only her mate could hear.

“Unfortunately for me.” 

Lucien took in a ragged breath and clenched his fists, waiting for the worst of his anger to fade away before he collected the books back into the discarded bag and held it out for you. 

A peace offering. 

You pulled Azriel back onto his feet, keeping one hand firmly clasped in his, and glared at your brother. “That was completely unnecessary.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” And he meant it. 

Your lips flattened. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Azriel?”

His mismatched eyes flared with irritation when they flickered to the Shadowsinger. 

Azriel stood quietly at your side, his face a motley of red, purple, and blue. Still handsome though, much to Lucien’s annoyance. 

“I’m not going to apologize for that. He deserved it. I’m just sorry you had to witness it.” Lucien hesitated, then said, “Y/n, I’m not usually like this. I don’t want you to think poorly of me just because of… him.” It was taking everything within him not to use more colorful language to describe the Shadowsinger. “It won’t happen again… unless you ask me to… which I hope you do.” 

Lucien wasn’t sure what to expect. He didn’t know what anger looked like painted on your features, or sadness, and he didn’t want to. So, it was a pleasant surprise when you only rolled your eyes and muttered, “First Helion and now you. Fucking males,” before slinging the bag over your shoulder and tugging Azriel towards your room. 

The Shadowsinger trailed after you without a second thought, heart hammering away in his chest. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

LET'S GO BIG BROTHER LUCIEEEEENNNNNNNNN

Y'all I had so much fucking fun writing the Lucien/Azriel fight scene. And to think that for a hot second I considered not writing it because I was worried it would be too repetitive to have Azriel get his ass beaten by both Helion and Lucien. Azriel, you poor, poor man, I'm sorry to have put you through all this. But also I'm not sorry at all.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, please feel free to send me your thoughts!

[seiwas]

everytime i think about ex!bakugo, i get so emotional thinking about how he carries on with his day-to-day like the breakup didn’t happen.

he doesn’t even give himself time to mourn the relationship, to process the loss of you. he throws himself into work, practically drowning in it because he can’t bear staying idle.

you’re everywhere, still—

in the picture frames scattered around his home, in the decorative pieces that each hold their own memory. some of the clothes you returned to him smell like you.

when kirishima asks him how he is, he never answers, always redirecting the subject back to work. deku notices longer bouts of silence during joint patrols, and when he pries, bakugo’s only reply is, “s’not a concern.”

it’s unusual, because bakugo is loud and rough, he barks and barks and barks, but with this, he stays quiet.

[daycourtofficial]

Solstice Celebrations

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel realizes you’re pregnant before you do and tries to figure out what he’s going to do.

-

Azriel has been off for days now. He can’t explain it, but something is off. Not necessarily bad, but off and he needs to find the source.

It all came to a head tonight when he could hear a very subtle additional heartbeat in the room. He spent ages searching the room, trying to locate the source of the heartbeat, but it’s so subtle he can barely hear it when he’s not in bed.

He scours the room, the adjoining hallway, he even takes a short flight around the perimeter, but he is coming up completely empty. Even his shadows are telling him everything appears fine. Azriel eventually admits defeat and climbs back into bed, holding you tight to him. Even though he’s accepted he can’t find a threat, he’s still suspicious.

This becomes his nightly routine for the next three nights. He’s just been telling you he hasn’t been sleeping well, and you’ve been preparing him some teas to help him relax before bed. On the third night you draw him a nice soothing bath that you hope will help him relax enough to sleep.

“Mmm” he moans, getting into the tub, “you are too kind to me, my love.”

“Not kind enough if I’m not able to soothe your worries enough for sleep.”

You leave, too tired to help him bathe. Azriel spends a long time in the bath, trying to relax and eventually unwinding enough to feel the bed beginning to draw him in.

He steps out of the bath, drying off, and he comes to meet you in bed, finding you fast asleep. He laughs, because he’s never met anyone who falls asleep as quickly as you do. He climbs into bed, holding you close to him, pressing his head to your chest, hoping your heartbeat will help lull him to sleep.

The soft rhythm of your heart slowly drifts him away, until its rhythm is disturbed by that softer heartbeat. He pulls his head away, listening intently, but the beat becomes imperceptible. He puts his ear next to your chest again, listens to the slow brag of your heart, and listens to the soft beat of a much smaller heart.

He realizes immediately what the soft symphonies of heartbeats mean, and he is almost brought to tears. He never once considered he’d fall in love, let alone have a mate, so children were never something he thought the Mother would allow him to have, but he was wrong.

The Mother has made you a mother. He has made you a mother.

You worked under Azriel, taking on random missions whenever you’re needed. And the thought of you going on a mission while with babe scared the cauldron out of him.

He slowly untangles from you, puts on some pants, and shuts the door behind him. He has a certain high lord to see immediately.

-

“Azriel.”

The shadowsinger continues his pacing, holding a hand up to Rhys, “I’ll explain once Cassian arrives.”

Rhys sighs dramatically, “Azriel it’s the middle of the night, no one is dying or dead, please explain to me why I’m here with you and not in bed with Feyre.”

Azriel gives Rhys a look “brother, I’ve never once brought you out of bed before, this is… very important to me. But I need both of you here.”

Rhys sighs and while not happy, he knows Azriel is serious. The male won’t stand still, silently pacing, which is very unusual for him.

“Fine”, Rhys replies.

After a few more moments of silence, Cassian’s wings announce his presence. Before Cassian can start his round of complaints, Azriel begins immediately.

“She’s pregnant.”

Cassian and Rhys still, smiles slowly stretching across their faces.

“Wow, wow, I’m so happy for the both of you. Oh, Nyx is going to have a built in best friend.”

Cassian goes to hug Azriel, and the shadowsinger grips him in a tight hold. “I’m so excited for you, brother.”

“I just figured it out when I called you two to meet with me.”

Rhys and Cassian exchange glances.

“What do you mean you figured it out? She didn’t tell you about it?” Rhys asked.

“I don’t think she actually knows.”

Rhys and Cassian still as Azriel continues.

“I heard the heartbeat, and then I could smell it in her scent. It was very subtle and hard to detect, but it was there. She’s very early into it.”

“And you told us and not the mother of your child because..?” Cassian asks.

“I just need the week to figure out how to tell her and to figure out what we’ll do from there.”

“Well, as exciting as all this is, now I have to go back to Nesta and pretend I don’t know this massive secret and that this meeting was for something bad.”

The males hug Azriel again, excited to see his future with a babe.

“Good night, brothers.”

-

Rhys and Cassian didn’t even try to keep it a secret, those bastards. The way Feyre is looking at him this morning, he knows that she knows. Mor came into town later in the afternoon, and she obviously knows. During lunch she kept looking at you with stars in her eyes and the biggest smile on her face. Azriel’s death glares at her did nothing to curb her happiness for the shadowsinger.

-

Azriel takes you to walk around Velaris during the afternoon, and unfortunately for him you’ve noticed all of the special attention coming your way.

“Mor was only gone for a week, but maybe she shouldn’t be gone for more than 3-4 days. I think she ends up missing me too much. She was so happy to see me during lunch.”

“Well she’s spent the week in the Huen City, anyone would be happy to see your lovely face after that week.” Azriel smoothly replies.

You’re walking around Velaris, searching for last minute Solstice gift ideas. You were having a hard time finding a gift for Feyre, and it was eating you alive.

“Everyone always gets Feyre some kind of paints - maybe she’d like something different for once.”

“I’ve already received her specialty paints, so it’s too late for me to change her gift,” he replies.

You were walking in and out of shops, bundled up in your winter coat and scarf, holding Azriel’s hand “to keep warm”, when Azriel sees it. He sees a shop that specializes in baby clothes, baby furniture, maybe even baby knives if he’s lucky. Seeing the shop, he looks at you, and the idea pops directly into his head.

You both go into a clothing shop, Azriel tells you he’s going to get some drinks at the shop next door, and he bolts down the street to the baby store, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Or as inconspicuous as a massive male with wings can be.

“Hello” he says, startling the clerk, who looks over this tall, muscular man with massive wings, wearing a very cozy sweater. “I need something for a solstice gift.”

-

Azriel paid the shopkeeper, even paying extra for her to be discreet, and ran into the coffee shop to order the two of you some hot chocolate to keep you warm in this chill.

Walking back to the store you’re in, he’s consumed by thoughts of “can she have hot chocolate while pregnant? Feyre did, and Nyx seems fine. Besides anything wrong with Nyx would just come from him being Rhys’s son.”

His inner turmoil is interrupted by you grabbing your hot chocolate from him. “Thanks, sweetheart” you say.

He notices a shopping bag, and you reply “I found a gorgeous sweater that had stars knitted into it with beautiful shiny yarn. It reminds me of Starfall, and I think Feyre would love it.”

-

Azriel has been dying. It’s now been 4 days since he figured out about your pregnancy and it’s been a monumental task not to tell you. Every moment of every day all he can think when he sees you is “you’re pregnant! With MY babe!” He wants to shout it from the rooftops. But that would ruin his carefully crafted plan.

It also doesn’t help that he has been watching you even more carefully than before, constantly asking Madja “are carrots safe? What about meats? Is milk safe?” Madja has officially banned him from asking her these ridiculous questions until he tells you that you’re pregnant.

He manages to keep it in until Solstice, despite the constant asking from every other member of the Inner Circle. Cassian is convinced he’ll never tell you - that Azriel will let it go until you’re going into labor.

By some luck though, the inner circle haven’t told you. He told them it would be known to you by Solstice and they are keeping him to that promise.

-

He wakes you up the morning of Solstice preparing to leave for his annual snowball fight.

“My hero, off to vanquish evildoers with his compacted balls of snow,” you croon at him while he’s getting dressed.

He kisses your cheek. “I have a title to defend, if I lose it’ll be bring shame to us for decades to come.” You giggle at the absurdity of it.

The brothers wouldn’t let any of you watch their snowball fight, but you and the other ladies love imagining how ridiculous they look.

He starts to head out the door when you say, “If you win I’ll have to provide you with a hero’s welcome, we’ll have to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah?” He kisses you.

“You better hope you win or the hero’s welcome goes to the victor. Would hate to have to celebrate with Rhys or Cassian.” He growls at that, rolling his eyes.

“Good thing I’ve crafted the perfect strategy this year.”

And he did. He won, beating them in the shortest time they’ve ever seen.

-

After his hero’s welcome, Azriel started getting nervous. The two of you exchange solstice gifts in private before seeing everyone else. You’ve talked about kids before, but what if you’ve changed your mind? What if you decided he wouldn’t be a good father?

His insecurities start eating at him, when you present him with a present.

“Open it,” you say, buzzing with excitement and nerves. He unwraps the small bundle to open a box containing a small, thin chain with your first initial on it.

“I got us matching ones, see” you say, pulling an identical chain with the letter A on it, “so even when we’re apart the world knows you’re mine and that I’m yours.”

Azriel envelops you in a bone-crushing hug. “I love it,” he mumbles into your hair, kissing your forehead a million times as you giggle.

“Sorry that my gift was so small compared to yours,” you say, peaking over at the package behind him.

Azriel pulls back, completely forgetting about his gift to you, getting nervous again to tell you.

“Please, open it.”

You open the package to find a beautiful mobile for a baby crib. It is made of twinkling stars that shine ever so softly, and as you look at it, some of Azriel’s shadows push the mobile so it spins. The shadows mix with stars, creating an absolutely stunning recreation of the night sky.

“Wow it’s gorgeous, but aren’t these usually for babies-“ the look on Azriel’s face stops you immediately.

“Am I-“

“Yes.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yes.”

He wants to give you a minute to digest it, soak it in, however you take him by surprise and tackle him to the ground in a hug so full of love it takes his breath away.

“We’re having a baby!” You say, a little louder than intended. Cassian bursts through the door, yelling “we’re having a baby!” as he comes over to you, picking you up off of Azriel and spinning you around.

“You nosey old fool!” You yell in delight at him “were you listening behind the door?”

Cassian puts you down as he says “well I had to make sure he told you otherwise none of us would have been able to keep the secret any longer.”

“Who knew?” You say, seeing the guilty look all over Azriel’s face. And with that question, everyone else pours in to congratulate the two of you. You turn to Azriel “so am I the last to know?”

Azriel reddens a bit as he says, “to be fair, I only told my brothers, they are the ones that couldn’t keep a secret.”

He turns and gives Cassian a death glare, which Cassian responds to by tackling Azriel in a hug. By this point the other members of the inner circle have come by, offering their congratulations and happiness with you. Mor envelops you in a hug while she cries that is so tight Feyre has to pry her off of you.

Looking around at your family, you think if your babe is loved even a tenth of how much you are, they will be so so so happy.

It was the best Solstice gift - spending time with your family and being excited for your new addition.

[did-i-do-this-write]

For a fun WIP question, perhaps discuss your inspirations and how much your stories have diverted from them or in what ways they take from them.

Sarah shared that their original idea was based on Of Monsters and Men's first album, but it was very different. It was only focused on two characters and a lot of the original concepts are gone now. They think the character names might be the only thing that has stayed the same after all this time. Sarah said, and I quote "they've grown up after all this time! They are worse people."

They think this comes from them growing as a writer and being able to get past the "good guy v. bad guy" dichotomy and adding nuance to a character's actions and motivations.

Sarah's series, The Fall, started as one book but is now a 6 book series.

Madie said that her original idea was "Oh, pirates. I wanna make pirate story" 😂 she was inspired by the song Wonderland by ATEEZ. It's changed a lot over the years. Some of the characters have stayed the same at their core, but a lot of the plot has changed. It went from being a stand alone book, but it has also grown into a 6 book series with a sequel series planned.

Mine was actually an off-shoot of an AU fic I wrote when I was 15 in which the characters are transported to all kinds of different dimensions and one of the dimensions was a rough version of the Paragon world. And it grew a lot when I realized I was writing a more interesting story within my story :D

(Sarah is @harps-for-days)

This ask motivated me to write 149 words for Home is Where Your Light Shines Brightest.

Experiment Total: 74,266

[pokimoko]

haunting the narrative -> haunted by the narrative -> haunting the narrative -> haunted by