#acotar au 🌀

[wiltingcrowns]

here's a dump about alia, my hewn city oc.

offspring of a darkbringer commander & his lady wife, alia is the sole daughter & eldest child along with her three younger brothers, the eldest two being amongst the darkbringer legions & the youngest a diplomatic strategist. meets nesta archeron during acowar & acosf, develops complex entwined emotional attachments alongside guilt & hatred for the ringleaders, despite being bound within a betrothal.

[secret-third-thing]

🌀 + ☔️!

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

I am working on an interactive narrative where you play as a character in a Jazz age AU at Amarantha's ball. There's lots of things to do, trysts to partake in, and secrets to uncover. And maybe you can stop Amarantha?

If people express enough interest in it, I can prioritize it sooner but I've been putting this off since Eris week is a little over a month away.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

I've been toying around with a heartbreaking Feysand Modern AU fic that's very "right person, wrong time." I don't know if I'll ever do it because I'd be leaning on a lot of my personal experience. Part of the reason I got into ACOTAR was because I was going through a really terrible break up from a long-term partner. Truthfully, this would force me to deal with some of the pain I've been avoiding.

[wiltingcrowns]

intro to miss mira, my illyrian oc. those who are pro rhysand + cassian beyond acowar , proceed with caution, mira doesn't approve. feel free to ask any questions about her in my inbox <33

her aesthetic:

did i give her a match? yes. where is nesta's you say? well in the fanfic im writing, she's with lucien/or eris (still figuring that out). mira's? cass.

gimme a vote for who nes should be with cause im torn <3

[wiltingcrowns]

okay. so... been re-reading acotar series. and been cooking. got another for us. a hewn city oc. hehe. who wants to know more...? perhaps sapphic, or fluid/unlabeled, figuring it out. but she likey nesta. also comment for a tag on the info drop about her <3

[wiltingcrowns]

providing some scenes from my illyrian oc ( mira ) fic, with some snippets of neris, and etc, lemme know what you all think <33 🫶

NERIS:

She inclined her head, eyes scrutinising as they skimmed over Eris. Nesta marked the heir's taut shoulders, the curl of his lip and the unease of his posture: as Mira assumed she had long learnt to do to predict one's next move. As if Nesta regarded this ruined moment as a diplomatic minefield, especially as the High Lord placed those mines with the intent to control the situation without implementing bared threats of power. It was a lethal strategy, if executed correctly, and only if the players you were against didn't know how to play the game better than you.

Nesta and Eris certainly could.

"Take a seat, Eris Vanserra," Nesta greeted, practised tongue monotonous, and gilded with firm grace. "The High Lady and Lord will become present when they have completed preparations."

MIRA & FEYRE:

The words dripped from her tongue easily, like she hadn't held that dam of unspoken thoughts sturdy as they formed gleaned blades of their own, cutting through their ties effortlessly. They sent ripples through the serene, still atmosphere.

"Tell me, High Lady. Do you know of our culture, of us as a people, beyond the words of the High Lord?"

Mira watched Feyre as the words stirred the features on the lady's face, and then as one tattooed hand clutched the other.

Evidently not, Mira thought. The High Lord and his cousin, Morrigan, had been the sole connection that Feyre had in the Night Court when she vanished from Spring. Their word on the court had become hers. She hadn't been allowed to venture on her own, learn her own friends, make her own decisions that didn't have to benefit Rhysand solely.

She flicked her eyes to the band on Feyre's ring finger.

She tucked her wings into her back, ignoring the agony lancing across her spine. "I did not say those words to criticise you, Feyre Archeron. But do learn about the people, we are not barbaric, as the Morrigan likes to screech to the world. You claim Cassian and Rhysand, the latter I do not agree with, are not barbaric. Apply that logic to us as a people before you nod to every word spoon-fed to you."

MIRA & CASSIAN:

But who would come into this kitchen, and call her home? Not flinch when she doesn't speak and hold silences, and instead sit at that kitchen table, and hold eye contact?

The man she was the wife to? Her husband?

It would only be him. No one else could sit on those backless chairs and use their own spine to hold themselves straight, not in this kitchen.

Only him. And if it was only him and he didn't sit, he'd stand opposite her, or beside her.

excuse the tangent. but i love her/them your honour. <3