#but it's fun to flesh out my main characters stories

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Part 4: Worldbuilding Pass

Next up, worldbuilding! We're tackling this before structure, because you don't want to get too far into the weeds, realize a critical component of your story is wrong, and then throw your computer out the window in frustration.

Anyway, when it comes to worldbuilding, there's a lot of moving parts. There is no right or wrong way to worldbuild, but my preferred approach is to worldbuild as the story goes along. Any method works, and you can check out the worldbuilding tag for more. In editing your worldbuilding, you want to think about:

Trimming Front-loading/Info Dumps

When writing fantasy/sci-fi, getting down how the world works can take over the story. In first drafting, this is fine! But when you're trying to clean that draft up, it's better to weave this information in as you go.

Need to explain how the giant mechas guarding the city operate? Maybe your main character is trying to steal some precious alloy from one, giving you opportunity to explain how they work and how society feels about them. Have a magic system that relies on singing tunes? Show that off by having students practicing, or dueling rivals taking it too far.

You probably know by now that the thing you should avoid the most is "as you know" dialogue dumps - characters explaining concepts to each other that they both clearly understand. Another, weaker version of this is the "magic class" trap, where things are explained to the main character and the reader. A classroom environment is fine, but pair worldbuilding with action - demonstrations get out of hand, spells go wrong, etc. Make it fun!

Your World Needs Clear Rules (Sorry)

Listen, this is the part I hate. I have a WIP with the word "Rules" in the title and I'm still figuring out what those rules are. Argh. But the sooner you know the rules, the easier editing will be. The more clear those rules are to the reader, the more impactful breaking them will be.

If the rules of the world (you can't use warp speed too close to a planet's gravitational pull, the same type of magic cancels each other out) and the consequences of breaking them are clear, the pay-off will be satisfying for both you and the reader.

Use Your Environment to Your Full Advantage

You've no doubt heard 'make setting a character' and that's evergreen advice. Some of the best books out there are those where it feels like you could step through the page and into a real place, be it your childhood middle school or Narnia. Getting that feeling, however, is more than just describing a place really well.

Mood - How does the location make you feel? Does a dark, cramped room leave the characters with a feeling of dread? How would that feeling change if it was an overstuffed library with comfortable chairs?

Weather - Beyond the 'dark and stormy night' descriptions, weather impacts our daily lives and is often overlooked. A rain-drenched funeral scenes seems like it's the way to go, but how differently would that scene feel if it was a sunny day with birds singing?

City Versus Countryside - These books are a great reference for description, but also take a step back to compare how different situations would feel both in the setting and to your character. Quiet can mean very different things depending on where you are. A morning fog in the countryside might feel comforting to someone used to it, but to someone new to that environment, it might feel creepy. Think about both your environment and how your character reacts to it based on their backstory.

The Empty Room Problem

This is always a big challenge when moving from the first draft bare bones basics to fleshing things out. How much description is too much? (As a note, it's always okay to overcorrect - you'll have a chance to fix it later!) This post from @novlr has a lot of great questions - but you're still going to narrow it down to the most important details.

Escape the Movie Setting - You cannot describe the room like it's a movie set. Trying to do so is going to be overwhelming, and important details will be lost in the attempt. If you were to describe your room or your favorite coffee shop and could only highlight four or five details, what would you focus on? What gives the reader the essence of the place rather than a list of things that exist there?

Establish the Essentials - Is this your first character's first time in this room? Is it going to be key to several plot-important scenes? Some big, sweeping details when entering - how big it is, what's in it, where the windows are, how it feels, etc - are good to start with. Your character can briefly admire a full bookshelf in the first scene, and then study it in more detail in the second. If you have one scene in this place and spend too much time describing it, you're going to make your reader think it's more important than it is.

Engage the Senses - Does an old room smell musty? Does the coldness of the woods have a sharp taste? Does touching a shelf bring up a lot of dust? How does the lighting in the room make the main character feel?

Getting down the description of a room or setting is not something you'll nail in one shot, but if you approach each scene asking yourself "does this feel like a real place or a white room?" you can narrow down what's missing.

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 10

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 10k

Trigger warning; mention of clipping

notes; Yo everyone! Hope you’re all doing well! <3 Here’s a new chapter (it’s pretty long, btw) packed with fluff, hehe. Writing slow burn is so fun because it lets me dive deep into the characters’ stories—but let’s get this shit started right (nothing too intense, but still lol). I’m still trying to settle into a proper posting schedule, so for now, it’s once a week (even though I’d love to post the next chapters already because I’m obsessed with them hahaha). Also, I’m thinking of writing a one-shot soon, so if anyone has requests, feel free to share! Enjoy the chapter and see you soon! <333

Links; part 9

The city was breathtaking in the fading light of the setting sun, each building bathed in warm hues of gold and amber that seemed to shimmer like something out of a dream. The streets were alive with the soft hum of evening life—merchants closing their stalls, children laughing as they chased one another down cobbled paths, and couples strolling hand in hand beneath the glow of lanterns that flickered to life as dusk settled in.

You walked a step ahead of Azriel, trying to steady yourself and brush off the strange unease that had lingered since your encounter with the healers earlier. The tension in your chest felt misplaced here, in this beautiful city where you had spent some of your most formative years. It was supposed to feel like coming home, yet the ache in your heart made you question every step. You tried to mask it, keeping your voice even and your steps steady as you spoke.

“Welcome to Solterra,” you said, your tone light but practiced. “The city’s divided into three main areas. We’ll start with the Artisans’ Quarter—that’s where most of the skilled crafters live and work. The Dawn Court is famous for its glasswork, pottery, and textiles, so you’ll see some of the best of that here.”

Azriel, walking quietly beside you, gave a small nod, his gaze scanning the streets as if he were cataloging every detail. His shadows curled at his feet but didn’t stray far, as if even they were captivated by the tranquil beauty of the city. He looked entirely at ease, which was a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions you were trying to push down.

“And after that?” he asked, his voice calm, his golden eyes flicking to meet yours.

You gestured toward the northern part of the city. “We’ll head to the Markets. They’re more chaotic but worth the visit. You can find almost anything there—spices, jewelry, rare herbs, even weapons.” You paused, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Though I doubt you’ll need those.”

Azriel raised a brow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I think I’ll survive without adding to my collection.”

The ease in his voice and the faint humor in his expression eased some of the tension in your chest. He was behaving like nothing had happened earlier—no awkwardness, no lingering tension, just calm and steady as ever. It surprised you how much that helped, grounding you when you felt like your emotions were spiraling out of control.

“And after the Markets,” you continued, trying to match his calm tone, “we’ll end in the Gardens. They’re best seen at night when the lights from the palace reflect off the fountains.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than you expected before he nodded again. “Sounds perfect.”

The Artisans’ Quarter unfolded before you like a scene from a painting. Intricate mosaics adorned the walls of buildings, their vibrant colors glowing in the dim light. Glassblowers worked behind large windows, their movements graceful as they shaped molten glass into delicate forms. The scent of fresh bread and spiced tea wafted from a nearby bakery, mixing with the earthy smell of clay and paint.

“Most of these families have been here for generations,” you explained, gesturing to the shops and studios. “The skills they pass down are considered sacred. I spent so many hours wandering here when I lived in Solterra. I’d sit for hours watching the glassblowers work—it’s mesmerizing.”

Azriel listened intently, his sharp gaze taking in everything around him. “It’s... peaceful here,” he said after a moment.

You smiled softly, nodding. “It is. That’s one of the things I missed most when I left. No matter what’s happening in the world, this city always feels like it’s standing still, like nothing can touch it.”

As the two of you continued through the quarter, the tension that had been sitting heavy in your chest began to ease. Azriel’s quiet presence was surprisingly reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing, falling into the rhythm of the city and the steady cadence of his steps beside you.

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets, and you turned toward the northern part of the city, leading Azriel toward the bustling Markets. The sight of the vibrant stalls and the hum of voices filled you with a sense of nostalgia, and for the first time in what felt like days, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply and let go of the thoughts that had been weighing on you.

Azriel didn’t say much, but the way his shadows softened around him and the faint smile that played on his lips told you he was enjoying himself. It made you smile in return, a genuine expression that reached your eyes as you began pointing out the different areas of the city with renewed energy. Whatever awkwardness you’d felt earlier had been replaced by something lighter, something that felt almost... normal.

The climb up the narrow, winding stairs was not for the faint of heart, but you had done it countless times before. Your steps were steady and sure, though you were keenly aware of Azriel’s presence just behind you. The sun had fully set by the time you reached the top, the last few golden rays fading into deep purples and blues that painted the horizon.

When you stepped onto the open terrace, you paused, waiting for Azriel to join you. His footsteps slowed, and when he emerged from the staircase, he stopped short. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but you caught it nonetheless. He stood still, his golden eyes scanning the view before him.

From this height, the entirety of Solterra stretched out like a glowing tapestry. The city lights flickered like stars in the dark, and the streets wove intricate patterns that mirrored the constellations above. The palace, with its gleaming white spires, stood at the center, its reflection shimmering faintly in the waters of the fountains and canals that crisscrossed the city. The glow of lanterns, their light soft and golden, spilled over the edges of the rooftops, casting everything in an otherworldly glow.

Azriel took a slow step forward, his shadows curling back as if to let him fully take in the scene. “It’s... stunning,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

You turned slightly, watching his reaction with a small, knowing smile. “It’s my favorite spot in the city,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping over the view. “Whenever things felt overwhelming, I’d come here. It has a way of making everything else seem... smaller. Easier to manage.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on the scene before him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the distant murmur of the city below and the faint rustle of the wind. Azriel’s wings shifted slightly, catching the faint light and adding to the ethereal atmosphere of the moment.

The terrace itself was simple—stone tiles worn smooth by time, bordered by a low railing carved with intricate designs of stars and moons. Small, glowing orbs floated at the edges, casting a soft, magical light over the space. Ivy climbed up the sides of the railing, its dark green leaves adding a touch of life to the otherwise serene setting.

“It’s hard to believe places like this exist,” Azriel said finally, his tone softer than usual. “It feels... untouched.”

You glanced at him, noticing the way his usually guarded expression had softened, his features lit by the faint glow of the orbs. “That’s the beauty of Solterra,” you said gently. “Even when everything else feels chaotic, it stays the same. Like it’s frozen in time.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on the city below. There was a stillness in him, a quiet reverence that you hadn’t expected. It was rare to see him like this—unguarded, almost at peace.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he said after a while, his golden eyes meeting yours.

You gave a small shrug, your smile warm but playful. “You needed to see it. Besides, I couldn’t let you leave the Dawn Court without experiencing this view.”

He huffed a soft laugh, his shadows curling around his feet again. “You were right. It’s worth the climb.”

You let the silence settle between you again, a comfortable quiet as the two of you stood side by side, taking in the beauty of Solterra under the night sky. For the first time in a long while, the weight of your responsibilities felt a little lighter.

You rested your hands lightly on the cool stone railing, your eyes fixed on the glittering city below, the soft hum of life drifting up from Solterra. The weight of the earlier conversation with the healers lingered, no matter how much you tried to push it aside. Finally, you took a breath and broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," you said softly, your voice barely carrying over the quiet night. "For what you overheard earlier."

Azriel, who had been standing a few steps behind you, moved closer, his shadows weaving gently around him. “You don’t need to apologize,” he said, his tone steady. “If anything, I should apologize for hearing it. It wasn’t my place to intrude on something so personal.”

You turned your head slightly, offering him a small, bittersweet smile. “It’s not your fault. And besides...” Your voice trailed off as the bond hummed faintly in your chest—a painful, persistent ache that you couldn’t ignore. Shaking your head lightly, you added, “It’s nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Azriel studied you, his golden eyes unwavering. “Are you better now?” he asked, his question simple but weighted with genuine concern.

You reached up, running a hand through your hair as you exhaled slowly. Turning back to the city, you said, “Much better now. That was... centuries ago. But I suppose it’s not surprising that some healers would talk about me like that. When I arrived here, I was a mess.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Azriel interjected, his voice firmer now. His shadows curled closer to him, as if reflecting his inner tension. “It’s not normal or acceptable for anyone to speak about you that way.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you, but it’s fine. Really. I’ve grown used to it, and... in some ways, they’re not wrong. Back then...” You hesitated, your gaze fixed on a distant point in the city. “When I lost my wings, I only wanted one thing. To die.”

Azriel’s entire body stilled, his shadows frozen in place as he processed your words. “You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said quietly, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Not if it’s too painful.”

You glanced at him, your lips curving into a faint, almost sad smile. “It’s fine,” you replied softly. “And besides, you’ve already heard most of it.”

He didn’t argue, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes told you that he was still grappling with the weight of what you had shared. You turned back to the view, the city lights reflecting in your eyes as you gathered your thoughts.

“For a long time, I thought losing my wings was the end of everything I was,” you admitted. “It felt like I was no longer whole, like the only thing that made me... me had been ripped away."

“I left the Night Court after it happened,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It was too hard to stay. Everything reminded me of what I’d lost. It took me months just to be able to walk properly again.”

Azriel’s brows knit together, his gaze intent on you. “Months?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “How did you manage to keep going?”

You let out a faint, humorless laugh. “I think if I’d been clipped younger, it would have been different. But by then, I’d already spent seventy years flying above Velaris and the Night Court. Losing that freedom…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “It broke me in ways I didn’t even realize at first.”

His shadows shifted around him, curling gently as though reflecting his own unease. “But you came here,” Azriel prompted softly. “To the Dawn Court.”

You nodded. “Thesan and Talyen helped me through it. During my training, they gave me purpose again—something to hold onto when I couldn’t see the point of anything. And you know how it ended with Thesan.” A wistful smile touched your lips. “It took me a long time to be able to come back to the Night Court. I wasn’t sure I ever would.”

Azriel frowned slightly, his wings twitching as if in reaction to your words. “Why didn’t you stay here? If they helped you so much, why leave?”

You tilted your head, considering his question. “Because this wasn’t home,” you said simply. “The Night Court was still my home, even if it hurt to admit it at the time. And deep down, I knew I needed to face what happened. Running away might’ve been easier, but it wasn’t what I needed. I don’t have a family, the Night Court, Velaris, Madja, Illyria, they were the only thing grounding me and actually giving me a feelling that I had an attached somewhere.”

Azriel studied you for a moment, his golden eyes shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Do you ever think about what could’ve been?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” you replied honestly. “But what happened shaped who I am now. And even though it’s not the life I imagined for myself, I’ve found meaning in it. I’ve found a way to be okay.”

The bond between you hummed faintly, the ache of its presence both comforting and painful. Azriel seemed to sense it too, his expression flickering with something unreadable.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the cool night air wrapping around you like a second skin. Then, as if to shift the weight of the conversation, you leaned back against the railing and offered him a small, wry smile.

“Now, enough about me,” you said, your tone lighter. “Have you talked with Rhys?”

Azriel’s jaw tensed slightly, and his shadows coiled closer. “Not yet,” he admitted. “I’m not ready to deal with that right now.”

You nodded, your gaze softening. “That’s fair. But don’t let it fester for too long, Azriel. Things left unsaid have a way of turning into walls between people.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll handle it when the time is right.”

“Good,” you said simply, letting the moment settle between you.

Azriel’s jaw tightened as the question lingered in the air. He glanced away, his shadows curling around him protectively as if to shield him from the conversation. “I haven’t spoken to Rhys yet,” he admitted, his voice low and tense. “It’s... the first time I’ve been this mad at him for so long.”

You tilted your head, your gaze searching his face. “Because of what he said?”

He nodded sharply, his wings shifting in agitation. “It wasn’t just what he said. It’s how he said it. As if... as if I’m incapable of making my own decisions. As if my feelings aren’t valid.”

Your chest ached at the pain in his voice, the rawness of emotions that he so rarely shared. “Have you thought about what you’ll say to him when you’re ready?” you asked softly.

Azriel shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “No. I haven’t even been able to think about it without... without wanting to hit something. And that’s not who I am. Rhys and I—we’ve always been brothers in every way that matters. But this time...” He trailed off, his shadows curling tighter. “This time, it feels different.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of what he was saying. “It’s hard when someone you care about deeply lets you down.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon as the light from the city below reflected in their depths. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost vulnerable. “And then there’s Elain.”

The name hung between you like a heavy cloud. You didn’t press him, sensing he needed to find his own words.

“I don’t even know what I feel anymore,” Azriel admitted, his tone laced with frustration. “When she first came here, after being dumped in the Cauldron, I was the one who helped her. I saw her at her worst—terrified, broken, unsure of everything. I wanted to protect her, to help her find her footing in this new, impossible life. I guess... I grew attached.”

You nodded, your expression neutral but your chest tightening as you listened. “Attachment can be powerful,” you offered carefully. “Especially when it’s built on moments like that.”

Azriel exhaled deeply, his shadows flickering faintly around him. “But it’s not just attachment, is it? There’s something more. Or at least, I thought there was. And yet, every time I look at her, I’m reminded that she has a mate. That no matter how I feel, she’s bound to someone else in a way I can never be.”

You leaned slightly against the railing, watching him closely. “Do you love her?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, Azriel didn’t answer. His jaw worked as if trying to find the right words, and his shadows stilled, almost hesitant.

“Maybe not love, at least not anymore...” he said finally, his voice raw with honesty. “But I care about her. More than I ever thought I could. Enough that it hurts to think about letting go. And yet...” He trailed off, his wings drooping slightly. “Maybe I should. Maybe I need to. Because this... this thing between us, it’s just a reminder of what I’ll never have. What I’m not meant for.”

Your heart clenched at the pain laced in his words, the quiet resignation that seemed to settle over him like a heavy cloak. “Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,” you said softly. “And it doesn’t mean what you felt wasn’t real or valid. But sometimes, letting go is the only way to move forward.”

Azriel’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable. “And what if I can’t? What if the bond... or the absence of it, keeps pulling me back?”

You offered him a small, sad smile. “Then maybe it’s not about forgetting or moving on entirely. Maybe it’s about finding a way to hold onto the parts of her that made you better, while still leaving space for yourself to grow. To heal.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his shadows curling around him as if to guard his thoughts. Then, he gave a small nod, though his expression remained conflicted. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” you admitted. “It’s one of the hardest things to do. But you’ve faced worse, Azriel. You’ll find your way through this too.”

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable but heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, Azriel exhaled slowly, his gaze once again drifting to the city below. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost lost to the breeze.

You didn’t respond, but the faint hum of the bond between you seemed to carry your unspoken understanding.

Your hands trembled slightly, barely noticeable, as Azriel’s words lingered in your mind. It was hard—hard to hear him talk about someone else with such care and longing, even as you tried to remind yourself that the bond between you wasn’t something he knew about, let alone wanted. Lost in your thoughts, you startled slightly when you felt a soft tug at your hair.

Glancing to the side, you saw one of Azriel’s shadows twirling a loose strand between its wispy tendrils, as though it was curious. It tickled, and despite the heaviness in your chest, a small smile broke through. “It seems your shadows have taken a liking to me,” you teased lightly, brushing the strand back.

Azriel’s brows furrowed in surprise, his gaze following the shadow as if it had acted without his permission. “They don’t usually...” he began, trailing off as another shadow curled lazily around your shoulder. He looked genuinely perplexed.

You laughed softly, the sound light against the quiet night. “Well, I don’t mind,” you said, though the sensation made you squirm a little as it tickled the back of your neck. “It’s... endearing, in a way.”

Azriel shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “They have a mind of their own sometimes,” he admitted. “But this is... new.”

You smiled, brushing the shadow away gently, and turned toward him. “Let’s get something to eat,” you offered, eager to change the tone of the evening. “I know a place nearby. It’s simple, but it’s one of my favorite spots in Solterra.”

Azriel tilted his head, his curiosity evident. “Lead the way.”

This time, you didn’t walk ahead; the two of you moved side by side, your steps falling into an easy rhythm. The city had transformed under the night’s embrace, its streets illuminated by warm golden lights. Lanterns strung above the narrow alleys swayed gently in the cool breeze, casting soft, flickering shadows against the sandstone buildings. People bustled around, vendors calling out their wares while laughter and chatter filled the air. Musicians played lively tunes on street corners, their melodies weaving through the lively hum of the crowd.

The stand you brought him to was modest—a small, well-loved cart tucked away near the edge of the marketplace. The scent of spiced meat wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of fresh bread and roasted vegetables. Azriel’s sharp gaze took in every detail, but his focus lingered on the way the vendor’s face lit up when he saw you.

“Y/N!” the man greeted warmly, his voice carrying over the din of the street. “It’s been too long. What brings you here tonight?”

You smiled, stepping closer to the stand. “You know me, I can’t stay away for too long,” you replied, the warmth in your tone genuine. “Azriel, this is Nadir. He makes the best sandwiches in Solterra.”

Nadir grinned, nodding at Azriel. “You’ve got good taste if you’re with Y/N. She’s a regular—used to come by late at night after long shifts. I always knew when she’d had a tough day.”

Azriel inclined his head politely. “It smells incredible,” he said, his shadows coiling faintly as if curious about the food.

“What do you like?” you asked Azriel, glancing over the menu scrawled on a wooden board.

“Anything,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I trust your judgment.”

You ordered for both of you, chatting with Nadir while he worked. The sound of sizzling meat and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the space as the sandwiches came together. A few moments later, Nadir handed over the wrapped bundles with a cheerful “Enjoy!”

The two of you found a quiet spot near the gardens, a place where flowering trees lined the edge of a small fountain. The night’s quiet was punctuated by the occasional ripple of water and the faint laughter of passersby.

Azriel unwrapped his sandwich, taking a tentative bite. His eyes widened slightly, and he nodded in approval. “This is... really good,” he admitted, the faintest hint of surprise in his tone.

“I told you,” you teased, taking a bite of your own. The warmth of the spiced meat and the fresh crunch of vegetables was exactly what you needed.

At some point, Azriel glanced at you, his expression softening as his sharp eyes caught something on your cheek. Without thinking, he reached out, brushing his thumb gently across your skin to wipe away a small streak of sauce.

The touch startled you, and you froze, blinking at him. A rush of heat bloomed across your face, and you stammered, “Oh, um—thanks.”

Azriel pulled his hand back quickly, clearing his throat. “Sorry,” he murmured, his own cheeks faintly pink. “It was—there was sauce.”

You laughed, the sound a little too loud in your effort to ease the tension. “Yeah, I’m a mess when I eat these,” you joked, trying to wave it off.

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, the soft glow of the city lights around you making everything feel oddly peaceful. For a moment, it was as if the weight of everything—the bond, his struggles, your past—had lifted, leaving only the quiet companionship of a shared meal under the stars.

Your evenings had fallen into a quiet rhythm over the past few days. After the meetings, Azriel would find his way to your room in the palace, and the two of you would settle into an easy companionship that felt strangely natural. It had started with a simple offer of tea and had grown into these shared moments—both of you working, sometimes talking, and occasionally just enjoying the calm silence.

Your room, one of the largest in the palace, was warm and inviting. Soft golden light filtered through tall windows, casting a gentle glow over the plush rugs and intricately carved wooden furniture. The bed, draped in deep teal and gold linens, sat against one wall, while a wide desk occupied the other, covered in neatly organized stacks of notes, scrolls, and ledgers. A small sitting area near the hearth had become your favorite spot, with two armchairs and a low table perfect for tea and conversation.

Azriel’s presence in the room had become so routine that it no longer surprised you when he knocked lightly before entering. Tonight was no different.

“You’re getting predictable,” you teased as he stepped inside, carrying his reports under one arm.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in a faint smile. “I could say the same about you. Tea’s already ready, isn’t it?”

You laughed softly, gesturing to the steaming teapot and cups on the low table. “Touché. I figured you’d show up.”

He sat across from you, setting his reports aside for a moment as he poured himself a cup of tea. “Busy day?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Always,” you replied with a sigh, leaning back in your chair. “The logistics for the next round of resource exchanges are a mess. Half the courts aren’t sure what they can spare, and the other half want more than they’re willing to give.”

Azriel nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of tea. “Sounds familiar. Negotiations between the High Lords aren’t much different. Everyone wants something, but no one wants to compromise.”

You chuckled dryly. “At least with the healers, we have the same goal. It’s easier to remind them what we’re working toward. The High Lords, though...” You shook your head. “I don’t envy you.”

He gave a small shrug, his shadows curling faintly around his shoulders. “It’s what I’m used to. But I imagine dealing with this,” he gestured to the neatly organized papers on your desk, “isn’t much easier.”

You followed his gaze and sighed. “Not really. It’s a lot of juggling—balancing what each court needs with what they can offer. And on top of that, making sure it all gets where it’s supposed to go.”

Azriel leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “If anyone can handle it, it’s you. I’ve seen how you manage these meetings. It’s impressive.”

The unexpected compliment caught you off guard, and you felt a flush creep up your neck. “Thank you,” you said softly, glancing down at your cup. “But it’s not just me. The other healers make it work. They’ve taught me as much as I’ve taught them.”

The room was quiet save for the faint crackle of the fire and the occasional rustle of parchment. You had been glancing at Azriel for a while, noticing the slight tension in his movements as he wrote. His fingers occasionally twitched, the pen faltering for just a second before resuming its sharp, precise strokes.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, setting your own quill down.

Azriel paused mid-sentence, looking up at you. “What do you mean?”

You gestured subtly toward his hands. “You’re struggling a bit. Does that happen often?”

He glanced at his gloved hands, flexing his fingers briefly. “The scars don’t hurt much,” he admitted. “But sometimes they make it harder to grip things properly. I usually use a cream to help, but since we’ve been here, it feels a little worse.”

“That’s not surprising,” you said with a faint smile. “The climate in the Dawn Court is much drier than Velaris.”

Azriel nodded, his expression neutral, though there was a flicker of discomfort in his golden eyes. Before he could brush the matter aside, you stood and rummaged through your things.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you with a mix of curiosity and exasperation.

“Hold on,” you replied, pulling out a small jar of salve you’d mixed during one of your quiet evenings. You turned back to him, holding it up triumphantly. “This will help.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to—”

You shot him a pointed look, cutting him off. “Azriel, it’s nothing. Stop being difficult,” you said, your tone teasing.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward, and to your surprise, he chuckled. The sound was warm and low, and it sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t help but smile back, your cheeks heating slightly.

Pulling a chair in front of him, you sat down, your knees brushing his. “May I?” you asked softly, gesturing to his hands.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. Slowly, you reached forward, peeling off his gloves with gentle care. Your breath hitched slightly at the sight of his scarred hands—marred by burns but still strong and capable.

“How did it happen?” you asked hesitantly, looking up to meet his gaze. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

Azriel’s expression didn’t change, though his eyes darkened slightly. “When I was younger, my half-brothers wanted to see what oil and fire would do,” he said, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of pain. “They decided my hands would be the perfect place to test it.”

Your horror must have shown on your face because he added quickly, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve learned to live with them.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you opened the jar of salve. Scooping a small amount onto your fingers, you reached for his hand, your touch feather-light. “You shouldn’t have had to learn to live with this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel didn’t respond at first, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. As your fingers gently massaged the salve into his scarred hands, it was as if the world outside the room ceased to exist. Each movement was deliberate, your touch light but firm as you worked the cream into the roughened skin, tracing over every ridge and scar with quiet reverence.

Your magic stirred softly, a faint glow emanating from your fingertips as you worked. The light was subtle, a pale shimmer that seemed to dance across his hands, sinking into the damaged tissue and soothing the strain beneath. You weren’t entirely sure if it was for him or for yourself, this act of care. But as the magic melded with the salve, you could feel the tension in his hands ease, the tightness in his skin softening under your touch.

The air between you seemed to thicken, becoming charged with something unspoken yet deeply felt. Azriel’s golden eyes followed your every movement, his shadows curling faintly around his shoulders as if reacting to the moment. They reached out tentatively, brushing against your arm like curious tendrils, almost mirroring the gentle care you were giving him.

Your fingers paused for a moment, resting on a particularly deep scar near the base of his thumb. You traced it lightly with your thumb, your expression unreadable. “Does this one still hurt?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel shook his head slightly, his voice low and steady. “Not physically. Not anymore.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and you didn’t press further. Instead, you resumed your work, your fingers gliding over his knuckles with a featherlight touch. The warmth of your magic pulsed faintly, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh when you saw the way his hands relaxed under your care.

The room felt smaller, quieter, as if it were holding its breath for the two of you. Azriel’s gaze never wavered, his focus locked on you with an intensity that made you acutely aware of every movement, every shared breath. The way you worked—your brow furrowed in concentration, your lips slightly parted as you focused on him—it rooted him in place, a grounding point he didn’t realize he’d been seeking.

Your touch was meticulous, almost reverent, as if you were trying to undo some of the harm etched into his skin—not just with the salve and your magic, but with the quiet care you poured into the act itself. It wasn’t just about soothing his scars; it was about showing him, in a way words never could, that he was worth this kind of gentleness.

Finally, you set the jar aside and rested your hands lightly on his, letting the warmth linger for a moment longer. When you glanced up to meet his gaze, the depth of emotion in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Better?” you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

Azriel nodded slowly, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “Much better,” he murmured, his tone thick with something unspoken.

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was full of unspoken understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection that had deepened between you in those stolen moments. And as you both lingered there, the faint shimmer of your magic faded into the stillness, leaving only the warmth of your touch and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

At one point, he broke the silence, his voice quiet but steady. “What about you?”

You glanced up, puzzled. “What about me?”

Azriel tilted his head, his expression softening as he studied you. “You spend so much time taking care of everyone else. Do you ever take time for yourself?”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “This,” you said, gesturing around the room, “is my time for myself. These moments... they’re enough.”

Azriel nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “Good,” he said softly. “You deserve that much.”

The sincerity in his voice stirred something deep inside you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to simply bask in the quiet companionship. In a life full of chaos and responsibility, this small corner of peace felt like a gift—one you hadn’t realized you needed until now.

 

Azriel arrived outside your door, punctual as ever, only to hear a frantic shuffle on the other side. He knocked lightly, waiting.

“Coming!” your voice called, muffled but rushed.

The door flew open, and there you stood, dripping wet, wrapped only in a towel. Your hair clung to your skin, and water dripped onto the floor. You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard.

“My bad—go wait inside, please,” you stammered, stepping back to let him in. “I’m so sorry—give me two seconds.”

You turned, slipping slightly on the wet floor, your arms flailing as you barely caught yourself on the doorframe. Azriel blinked, clearly fighting back a laugh, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but amused.

"Fine!" you chirped, disappearing back into your room. "Totally fine! Just... give me a minute!”

The space felt as alive as you were—vibrant and lived-in. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with books, jars of herbs, and an array of trinkets collected from various courts. Your desk was a study in organized chaos, papers and notes sprawled across its surface, mingling with teacups and a few candles. A large, open window let the morning sunlight pour in, illuminating everything in a warm glow.

Azriel took a seat on the edge of a cushioned chair, his sharp eyes scanning the room. He couldn’t help but notice the quiet hum of comfort that seemed to radiate from the space, much like its owner.

A few minutes later, you emerged, struggling with the intricate ties of your top, the fabric stubbornly refusing to cooperate. "Azriel," you called, your voice slightly frantic. "Help me out here!”

Azriel stood, stepping closer. “Sure,” he said simply, taking the ties of the top in his hands. As he moved behind you to secure it, his gaze fell on your back.

There, faint but unmistakable, were scars. They cut across your skin in jagged, silvery lines, a stark contrast against the smooth canvas of your back. He froze for the briefest moment, his breath catching. His shadows stirred restlessly, betraying his thoughts.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t let his hands falter as he tied the delicate laces with precision. But something tightened in his chest, a mix of sorrow and admiration for what you must have endured.

You, oblivious, continued fussing. “Usually, it’s Ydle who helps me with this,” you muttered.

Azriel blinked, his brow furrowing. “The bird?”

“Yes, the bird, Azriel,” you said, glancing over your shoulder with an incredulous look. “He’s actually quite good at a lot of things, you know.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Right. A lot of things.”

You turned fully, giving him a pointed look. “Stop with your nasty thoughts, Shadowsinger. Not all winged beings think with their dick, you know.”

That earned you a full, genuine laugh from Azriel, his shadows swirling around him in amusement.

"You’re late," he reminded, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, grabbing your notes and practically running around the room to gather the last of your things. "I ended up drinking with the girls last night—like, a lot—and I went to sleep about... oh, two hours ago."

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "And now you expect to lead a meeting?"

"I’ll survive," you said, waving him off. "Let’s go, or we’ll both be late."

As the two of you left your room, Azriel couldn’t help but shake his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him. You might have been chaos incarnate that morning, but there was no denying you’d pull it together the moment you stepped into that meeting room—and he admired that more than he’d ever admit.

When you and Azriel entered the meeting room, it was clear that the tone of the day was already set. The head healers, though composed, bore an unspoken tension that hung heavy in the air. Your sharp eyes quickly took in the details—slightly rumpled clothes, dark circles under a few pairs of eyes. A quick glance at Farah and Amara confirmed your suspicion: you weren’t the only one running on minimal sleep.

“Rough night?” you murmured to Farah as you passed, taking your seat at the head of the table.

The Day Court healer offered you a tired smile, golden strands of her hair slipping from her loose braid. “You could say that. Seems the city’s festivities are hard to resist.”

Amara groaned softly, resting her elbows on the table. “Why do they schedule these meetings the morning after celebrations? We look like we’ve been dragged through the ocean.”

A few chuckles broke the tension, and even Azriel’s lips twitched faintly at the comment as he took his place near the doorway, his shadows drifting unobtrusively.

“All right,” you said, your voice firm but warm as you tapped the table lightly. “Let’s focus. We have a lot to cover, and not much time.”

The healers straightened in their seats, the atmosphere shifting into something far more serious.

As the meeting pressed on, the air in the room thickened with the weight of the topic now at hand—Koshiev’s growing influence. The earlier camaraderie and trust among the healers gave way to grim determination, each word spoken heavy with the stakes of what was to come.

Rordan from the Autumn Court began, his amber eyes burning with frustration. “Koshiev’s forces aren’t just expanding—they’re leaving devastation in their wake. Entire villages along the borders have been wiped out because of sickness that, mother above, look like they come straight from hell, and the survivors are trickling into the courts as refugees. Camps are overcrowded, and infection spreads like wildfire.”

Veras from the Winter Court leaned forward, his braided hair falling over his shoulder. “The frostbite cases we’re seeing aren’t just from the cold anymore. It’s as if something in the air itself is making the wounds worse, harder to heal. We suspect Koshiev’s forces are using some kind of dark magic, but we have no way to confirm it.”

You nodded, taking in the information with a furrowed brow. “If they’re using magic to weaponize the environment, we’ll need to prioritize protection. I can look into shielding spells that can be used alongside standard care. Farah,” you turned to the Day Court healer, “your court specializes in purification. Do you think you could develop something to counteract this?”

Farah’s golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It’s possible, but we’d need samples to understand what we’re dealing with. Without knowing the exact nature of this magic, we’re working blind.”

Azriel, silent until now, spoke up from where he stood at the edge of the room. His deep voice cut through the air like a blade. “I can get you the samples. If there’s something in the air or water, I’ll have my spies retrieve it.”

The room turned to Azriel, some with surprise, others with relief. You caught his eye briefly and nodded, grateful for his quick offer.

Amara from the Summer Court exhaled heavily. “Even with countermeasures, this is a problem we’ve never faced before. Koshiev’s forces are using tactics that defy every natural law we know. We need more than just defensive strategies—we need to be proactive.”

“You’re right,” you said, standing straighter. “It’s not enough to react to what Koshiev does. We need to anticipate his next moves. That means gathering intelligence—not just on his methods but on his motives. Why is he targeting specific regions? What does he gain from leaving the lands uninhabitable?”

Teylan, the healer from the Dawn Court, added, “And we need to coordinate evacuation protocols. If entire regions are to be affected, we must ensure that civilians can be moved quickly and efficiently. It’s not just about healing the injured—it’s about preventing the injuries in the first place.”

The group murmured in agreement, and you saw Azriel’s sharp gaze shift to Teylan. There was respect in his expression, though his shadows swirled slightly tighter around him, as if unsettled by the weight of the conversation.

“Let’s assign specific roles,” you suggested, your voice cutting through the growing tension. “Veras, work with Farah to develop purification methods. Amara, focus on distributing resources—we’ll need herbs, salves, and antidotes ready for immediate deployment. Rordan, can you focus on organizing supply routes and establishing safe zones within the Autumn Court?”

Each healer nodded, their expressions set with determination. You turned to Azriel. “And Azriel, if you can retrieve those samples, it will give us the edge we desperately need.”

Azriel inclined his head, his shadows flickering like flames in response. “Consider it done.”

The meeting continued with precise planning. Containment strategies, resource allocation, and magical countermeasures were all discussed and debated. Each healer brought their expertise to the table, but the weight of Koshiev’s looming threat was undeniable.

By the time the meeting concluded, the atmosphere in the room was heavy but resolute. These weren’t just plans—they were the foundation for survival, the first step in a war that would test every ounce of strength Prythian had.

As the healers began to file out for a much-needed break, Azriel lingered near you, his gaze steady and unreadable. “You’re carrying a lot on your shoulders,” he said quietly.

You met his gaze, your tired smile barely masking the exhaustion. “We all are, Azriel. But this is the work that needs to be done.”

His shadows flickered faintly, and for a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say more. But instead, he simply nodded, his silence speaking volumes.

The battle against Koshiev had already begun, and you both knew it would demand everything from everyone involved.

The meeting had finally drawn to a close, the weight of the discussions settling heavily on your shoulders. You bid farewell to the other healers, offering last-minute reassurances and final notes for the upcoming plans. As the last of them departed, you made your way back to your room, your steps slower than usual. The exhaustion from the day's intensity pulled at you, but your mind refused to quiet.

Your room greeted you with its familiar warmth and quiet elegance. You sighed, stepping inside and shedding your outer coat. Moving to the small kitchenette, you set about preparing tea. The rhythmic motions of boiling water and selecting herbs gave you a rare moment of peace.

The sound of a knock at the door broke your focus. You turned, half expecting Azriel, but instead found Thesan leaning casually against the frame, his smile warm and familiar.

“You didn’t think I’d let you retreat so easily, did you?” he teased, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes. “I thought you’d be busy catching up with your court, not chasing after me.”

“Multitasking is one of my many talents,” he quipped, settling into a chair with an ease that spoke of years of friendship. His gaze swept the room, a fond glint in his eye. “Still feels like you’ve left your mark on this place. It’s alive, somehow—like you.”

You scoffed lightly, pouring two cups of tea. “You’re being dramatic again.”

He accepted the cup you handed him, his smile never faltering. “Maybe. But I’m also right.”

The lighthearted banter faded as his expression turned more serious. “You handled yourself well today. The meeting was impressive, even for you. But that’s not why I’m here.”

You hesitated, sitting down across from him. “Then why are you here, Thesan?”

“To check on you,” he replied simply. “You’ve been through a lot, Y/N. And I know you—sometimes you carry things alone when you shouldn’t.”

The words hit closer to home than you cared to admit. You stared into your tea for a moment before taking a steadying breath. “There is... something,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “Something I haven’t told anyone.”

Thesan waited patiently, his gaze unwavering. Finally, you looked up and met his eyes.

“It’s not just the war or the plans,” you admitted finally, setting your cup down. “It’s... Azriel.”

Thesan raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. “The Night Court’s spymaster? What about him?”

You inhaled deeply, the words tasting foreign as they left your lips. “He’s my mate.”

The admission hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. Thesan’s expression shifted to one of quiet understanding, his head tilting slightly as he studied you.

“And does he know?” he asked gently.

You shook your head, the weight of the secret pressing down on you. “No. And I don’t plan on telling him. He’s... attached to someone else. Elain. One of the High lady’s sister. And there’s the war, the chaos. It’s not the right time.”

“Is there ever a right time for something like this?” Thesan asked gently. “Do you... love him?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, your fingers tightening around the cup. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But being around him feels... different. Like a part of me is at peace when he’s near.”

Thesan leaned back slightly, his brow furrowed in thought. “Mates are rare, yes. But they’re not infallible. If you feel this strongly, maybe you shouldn’t dismiss it. Just... be careful.”

His advice hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Before either of you could say more, a soft knock at the door interrupted the moment. Thesan rose smoothly to answer, his calm demeanor never wavering.

Azriel stood in the doorway, his shadows curling faintly around him. His sharp eyes flicked to Thesan, a hint of surprise crossing his face. “High Lord,” he greeted, his tone polite but clipped.

Thesan smiled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Spymaster. What brings you here?”

Azriel’s gaze briefly shifted beyond him, but he couldn’t see you from where he stood. “I was going to ask Y/N if she wanted to take a walk through the city before we leave. But clearly, she’s... occupied.”

Thesan’s smile deepened, and there was a hint of something playful in his tone. “We were just catching up, but...”

Azriel nodded curtly and cut him mid sentence, stepping back. “Another time then, I don’t want to disturb you both.” he echoed, his voice neutral.

He left without another word, his shadows lingering briefly before disappearing into the hallway. Thesan watched him go, a knowing look in his eye as he closed the door and turned back to you.

“Well,” he said, his tone dry, “he’s certainly... something.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

Thesan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his expression softening. “Take it one step at a time, Y/N. You’ll figure it out.”

Azriel sat on the balcony of his assigned room in the Dawn Court palace, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft orange and deep indigo. His shadows whispered faintly, their tones uncertain, as if they too were trying to process what he was feeling.

He hadn’t intended to overhear you with Thesan, but the sound of your laughter, followed by the soft murmur of your voices, had drawn him to the door. He had stopped himself from intruding, reminding himself that it was none of his business. Yet, the sight of Thesan’s easy smile as he stood in your doorway, the familiarity in his posture, and the casual way his hand rested on the frame had stirred something in Azriel—something sharp and unwelcome.

He knew you had a history with Thesan. He knew that Thesan had a mate. And yet, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of jealousy. The knowledge that you and Thesan had shared something once, something real and intimate, unsettled him in a way he couldn’t fully understand.

You weren’t like Mor, whose vibrant energy had captivated him for centuries. You weren’t like Elain, whose gentleness and quiet beauty had drawn him in, offering a fleeting hope for something he could never truly have.

You were you—Y/N.

There was an effortless strength in you, the way you commanded a room without raising your voice, the way you navigated delicate situations with a calmness that belied the fire in your heart. You carried yourself with grace but never hid your scars. You worked tirelessly, yet somehow always found time to smile, to offer comfort, even when you were the one most in need of it.

And that smile—Mother above, that smile. It wasn’t a demure thing meant to appease or charm; it was genuine, lighting up your face in a way that made everything around you seem brighter. Your laugh was low and warm, the kind that lingered in the air long after it faded. The way your eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when you were truly amused stayed with him.

He thought of the way you spoke to him—honest, unafraid to challenge him but never cruel. How you had listened to him in the clinic that night, your words carrying a weight of understanding he hadn’t found in anyone else.

Azriel exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know when it had started—this attachment to you. But he knew it had grown steadily since the moment the two of you arrived in the Dawn Court. You had drawn him in with your unwavering dedication and the quiet vulnerability you allowed to slip through your defenses.

It wasn’t like him to let someone in so easily, to let himself care so quickly. But with you, it was different.

And now, the thought of Thesan knowing you so intimately—knowing parts of you that he could only hope to uncover—gnawed at him. It wasn’t rational, he knew that. But the thought still burned.

His shadows curled tighter around him, as if trying to shield him from the onslaught of emotions. But they couldn’t muffle the truth. He had grown attached to you. Too attached. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to do about it.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing outside Azriel’s door, a faint sense of unease settling over you. You had to talk to him about organizing your departure, but something felt off. You took a deep breath and knocked softly, waiting until you heard his voice.

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside to find Azriel sitting in a chair by the window, his shadows swirling lazily around him. His face was unreadable, the sharp planes of his features cast in soft shadows from the lamp beside him. He looked up briefly as you entered, but his gaze quickly flicked back to the papers in his hands.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” you began, your voice light but careful.

He shook his head. “No. Don’t worry. What do you need?”

You hesitated for a moment, noting the slight edge to his tone. “I wanted to go over the plan for tomorrow’s departure,” you said, stepping closer. “We need to coordinate with the palace staff for supplies, and I wanted to confirm our route.”

Azriel nodded curtly, gesturing for you to sit, but he didn’t offer much more. His responses were short, his demeanor cooler than usual. You frowned, watching him as he scanned the papers in his hands.

“Is something going on?” you asked softly, leaning forward slightly in your seat.

Azriel’s shadows curled tighter around him, a sure sign of his tension. “No, everything is ok don’t worry.” he said flatly, not looking up.

You tilted your head, unconvinced. “Azriel, I’m not leaving this alone. We’re going to be stuck together for at least four hours during the flight, and I promise you—I will not stop bothering you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might brush you off entirely. But then he set the papers down and leaned back in his chair, his amber eyes locking onto yours.

“Fine,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Do you still have something going on with Thesan?”

You blinked, caught completely off guard by the question. “What?”

He pressed on, his shadows flickering erratically. “It’s just... sometimes, even if people are mated, they still—” He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before continuing, “They still keep things with their previous partners.”

You stared at him, the words settling over you like a wave of confusion and exasperation. “Are you serious right now?”

Azriel met your gaze, his expression unreadable, but his eyes carried a flicker of vulnerability he was clearly trying to mask.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. “Azriel, do you honestly think either Nesta or Feyre would be okay with Cassian or Rhysand running off to sleep with an ex-partner? Because, no. They wouldn’t. And it’s the same here.”

His brows furrowed, and you continued, your tone softening slightly. “Thesan is a friend now, Azriel. Nothing more. I don’t want anything else, and neither does he. And his mate would probably kill me if I even consider him more than that.”

The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease slightly, though his shadows still hovered around him. He nodded once, his voice quieter now. “I... I just wanted to be sure. Not that it was an actual problem, but...”

You couldn’t help but huff a small laugh, shaking your head. “You could have just asked, you know.”

Azriel’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, his shadows finally retreating a bit. “Maybe next time, I will.”

“Good,” you replied, standing and smoothing the front of your shirt. “Now, can we get back to the actual reason I came here, or should I start worrying about more questions?”

Azriel chuckled softly, a rare sound, and gestured for you to continue. The tension between you had eased, and as you began discussing the logistics of your departure, you noticed that his gaze lingered on you just a little longer than usual.

After clearing the air, you sat up straighter, your tone turning more professional. “Now, about tomorrow’s flight. The weather reports show strong winds in the region where we flew last time, so we’ll need to make a detour.”

Azriel’s brow lifted slightly, his focus sharpening. “A detour?”

You nodded, gesturing to the small map you had brought with you. You spread it out on the desk between you, pointing to a marked path. “Instead of cutting directly through the mountains, we’ll follow the coastline for a bit. It’ll take us an extra hour, but it’s safer than risking the turbulence.”

Azriel leaned forward, his shadows quiet as he studied the map. “The sea route?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “The winds over the water should be calmer, and there’s a better chance of clear skies. I checked with the palace staff earlier—they’ve used that path before in similar conditions.”

His expression was thoughtful as he traced the route with his finger. “It’s a smart call. And the scenery will be... different.”

You chuckled softly. “Different is one way to put it. I hope you like ocean views.”

Azriel glanced at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “I’ll take ocean views over unpredictable mountain winds any day.”

“Good,” you said with a small smile. “I’ll let the staff know to adjust the flight plan accordingly.”

He nodded, his demeanor more relaxed now. “Anything else I should know?”

You hesitated for a moment, then added, “The winds might still be a bit tricky when we’re closer to the coast, so we’ll need to stay alert. But I think we’ll manage just fine.”

Azriel’s smirk deepened. “You sound like you’ve done this a hundred times.”

You shrugged lightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “Maybe not a hundred, but I’ve healed enough Peregrins to know what I’m talking about. Trust me on this one, Shadowsinger.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his shadows flickering faintly around him before he nodded again. “I trust you.” 

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[mortporter]

NPCs

Helvetica cen Serif - Garlean conscript looking for the lost children of the family she long served. Also font pun.

Daranon Dallemont - Second son of a very minor noble Ishgard family, who'd rather tend to his studies than the family business.

The Mo Tribe - Two shattered branches of the already small tribe band together after the Empire is pushed out from Gyr Abania, intent on picking up the pieces and continuing their harsh way of life.

[dovewingkinnie]

genuinely so excited to share this new story im making but its gonna be a bit... must figure out The Lore a bit more

[dragontamer05]

No lie I can't recall the last time I did like just one long continuous thread.

Like sure still doing small side stuff, asks ect but just idk but also letting muses grow and develop through one long continuous - and not always having to say resort to completely dropping if whatever currently is going on has run its course and instead just time skip with it but let it keep going.

And I say this as some one who is also 100% happy to time skip and jump around.

And hey you want to go back in time and explore a scenario that could have happened earlier in their relationship / knowing each other

or jump forward to something way later or even just explore a what if scenario that doesn't have to happen but could depending how things go/ how we feel about it ect

Hell yah love it all - trying to have some time line consistency is good obviously and as long as we can agree on even a loose idea of How they got to Y or where X fits and what not then sure.

Am fine with even the longest of threads eventually getting a wrap up if things simply happen to feel right in the moment and is what gets decided, doesn't have to be an infinite thread - certainly not about to force one to go on if its reached a point it kinda feels dead but idk call me easily attached but there's sometimes where I can still find / feels like their might be still potential to be found in a thread and all it needs is a bit of tweaking.

The chapter came to an end but the book isn't over kinda thing. Maybe all it needs is a small time skip / scene change but there's still things to be explored within said plot/scenario / whatever is going on with the characters - that would still also work/fit within said thread instead of separating.

Similarly but kind of reverse is I am equally as happy generally to return to threads that were long previously dropped/abandoned. Whether cause someone wasn't feeling it any more or simply we ran into a writing wall and at the time were lost on how to continue it so was better not to force it. But if something new comes along be it from plotting / just newer interactions or simply with having time away from it whatever the reason if a spark suddenly arises and hey suddenly what if we connected - old thread to new idea - or any other reason to want to answer/continue go for it.

idk mostly I this is was just a really long rambly way of saying how I miss long threads. Short quick snippets are fun and fine but 9/10 I promise i am very much interested and fine with carrying a thread for as long and far as it'll go.

[wildflowercryptid]

wistfully thinking about my beloved delphox from my original x playthrough. if only you could've seen this, kuranosuke...

[hundredowls]

silly oc doodle..... ballroom yuri

[vonkarma2]

💋🍊⭐🌳💙🔮🌷 deep cut ocs! i'm intrigued

let’s pretend this didn’t take 80000 years Im so sorry I was really busy 

I’m defining “deep cut” here as like. Any character I have thats underdeveloped bc I have to add more to a lot of them. I’m also gna pick them randomly bc if I picked the best cha tra cuter for every question this would take even longer than it already has LMAO 

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

Tora (<long story short she’s an oneiroi which is like a dream demon) is overall a pretty serious person, especially when dreaming. She doesn’t feel as at home in the surreal landscape as most other oneiroi do, she likes to be in control of every situation. Because of this, it usually surprises her coworkers to know that she is very nice towards her family— she isn’t all that close with her parents, but she is with her grandparents and younger siblings, being the oldest of four. With people older than her, she more so tries to be kind and respectful rather than actively affectionate, she really wants to impress her parents and grandparents and make them proud. But with her siblings, she likes teasing them in like an older sister way, but she can also be very nice and encouraging. She’ll like affectionately put them in a headlock and things like that a lot of the time, she’s only like verbally nice to them when something is wrong and she’s trying to cheer them up. (For the record she is (the equivalent of) 28 but her siblings are significantly younger, they’re 16F, 12M, and 9M.)

She’s capable of acting this way around people she’s close to outside of her family, but due to her frigid disposition (distant at best when she’s not being overly confrontational), she doesn’t tend to make a lot of friends, and has an even more difficult time finding romantic partners since she hates small talk and appearing fake or insincere. She also tends to be openly critical of other people, even when she doesn’t know them that well.

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

Nadia’s favorite meal is probably something like a specific flavor of cereal or something that she eats every single day. The type to have the same meal over and over again and not care. I don’t think she likes eating snacks in general. Dessert probably a milkshake, she likes sweet things in general but I think would prefer something you can just drink bc it is less trouble to eat and to clean up afterwards.

Drink hot chocolate or tea she likes both a lot she thinks hot drinks are calming. Obviously not coffee bc it has the opposite effect.

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why?

Victor is of course afraid of bodies of water due to the circumstances of his original death via drowning. I don’t want to go into every other thing he’s become afraid of due to the way his second life went before the story because it would be depressing, but like he doesn’t like being around unfamiliar adults basically and he is like shy and nervous around people in general. Unless if he thinks they’re much, much weaker than him and as such don’t pose any threat. This is why he was able to become friends with Joseph and Angel (<this is a joke because Victor is 15 Joseph is 13 and very sheltered at that but Angel is 19 and pretty physically strong so it is a joke at his expense. I should have just said that and not given any context these posts should make sense only to me)

When scared he’ll either like get angry and confrontational (if he’s around people he likes + doesn’t think he’s in actual danger) or like shut down completely like go very quiet and try not to be noticed. He can calm down by going to like he by himself or honestly just by having someone talk him down and reassure him. Not a stranger but someone he actually knows, even if he doesn’t believe them he’d like appreciate the effort. 

After the story, he stays living in Zeolan, where most people are surprisingly ok with demons even after that whole incident— the culture has a lot of like respect for the dead or whatever and there aren’t any negative superstitions that people associate with demons at all. People would only be scared of him if they were 1) small children who didn’t know what a demon was/didnt fully understand the concept 2) particularly paranoid abt the whole world collapsing event happening again. Maybe if he went abroad to somewhere where they were more familiar with demons and seeing one was considered bad luck/a sign of death to come or something. Then they’d probably be scared of him. But ordinarily not really.

🌳 Compare your OC to themself from 10 years ago. How has their mental state changed since then, how have they aged and grown up? Would they say they’re in a better place than they were back then or do they need help? What advice would they give their younger self? What advice would their younger self give to them now?

When the story takes place, Anjara is I think 22 let’s just say so she’s still very young. She’d probably tell her younger self, like, where the vent is that she can use to escape the factory. She’d warn her about the fire. Honestly, in personality, she’s still pretty similar to how she was at 12– obviously she’s more mature than a literal child. But in terms of her priorities in life and like her worldview, she still wants the same thing, which is to help her family and keep them safe. Only now, they think she’s been dead for 8 years since she has no way to contact them. So she’s like obviously very distressed over that they meant the world to her and still do etc etc but she feels like she at least has a plan now so that helps like keep her going or whatever, whereas before she was acutely aware they could all die at any moment. So like she’s not really in a worse place mental health wise necessarily. She’s just more lonely. Her younger self would probably be nice to her and tell her not to give up, maybe also to try to find friends/allies to help her instead of going it alone. In the last she was more appreciative of other people whereas she’s more paranoid now.

💙 What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently working to achieve this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?

Let’s do Remy’s backstory back when he was a little frog alien growing up in an evil generic sci fi empire, he dreamed of escaping and living far away from it on a nicer planet that wasn’t a police state and actively arbitrarily evil. Genuinely he just wanted to live a peaceful life, he thought of becoming like a farmer or something, but nothing specific necessarily. As he got older he became more jaded and not as interested in this idea, and became 1) resigned to a life of misery 2) more resentful of the empire, putting up mild resistance to it and eventually getting into enough trouble that he had to escape and accidentally crash landed on a planet as of yet untouched by the empire. However, it was touched by comically evil sci fi corporation and so he was forced to become a shill for them and also make mediocre pop music. He’s famous he has a lot of dedicated fans and a lot of people who hate him and he’s stuck supporting a sinister institution so essentially it is still the exact opposite of what he was hoping for. At this point he’s like mostly given up on his dream as impossible since he’s like a prisoner and there are no off planet ships how sad 😞✌️

🔮 Star gazing or cloud watching? Hand-holding or snuggles? Early mornings or late nights?

For this one I tried to think what character would prefer hand holding so that I wouldn’t have to write out the other answer but I couldn’t think of anyone. Fuck it Im doing Connor star gazing the one that’s not hand holding and late nights. Canon forever you’re welcome isaac

🌷 In what ways would your OC alter their body if they could? How would they do it using mundane means (hair dye, surgery, make-up?). What is their ideal look for themself?

Every single character I think of it’s either “they wouldn’t” or “they’re transgender” the only one this really applies to is Rocio and I refuse to cave and do her Ive talked abt her over and over again already. Ummm ok Henry would like to go back to being human, of course he’s used to living underwater by now and he doesn’t hate it or anything but he does resent it and at the end of the day he misses seeing the sun and the sky and breathing fresh air and et cetera. Obviously this is impossible to obtain via mundane means. Instead he compensates by wearing like a lot of jewelry accessories whatever he can find that he thinks looks nice. 

His ideal look for himself would be how his human self looked but with nicer hair and incredibly expensive clothing and taller and more conventionally attractive in every way. Also he’s from like the 1500s so he’s working by 1500s england standards. 

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[popicoooo]

KotS | Elite | Grillans 3

Two days after kicking Merrian out of his home, Grillans mopes in his living room. His father brew foreign tea for him, a sweet berry taste, and draped several blankets across the couch for him. Grillans had tried to work yesterday, but when he accidentally broke one of his tools trying to scrape out barnacles his father gently suggested resting instead. Today, Grillans simply stares at the fireplace, letting the flame burn his retinas to burn his own memory.

Unfortunately for Grillans, the spirits will not let him cope unhealthily.

“So yer cuddled up in a mountain of blankets right now cause some western boy doesn’t wanna be yer friend.” Veida asks deadpan from her side of the table. Usually, this day of the month the two of them craft medicine for the village, Veida’s family are herbalists by trade and Grillans is the last living descendent of the village’s medicine witch, his grandmother. As such Grillans and Veida have been close since a very young age.

“It’s a lil’ more complicated than that…” Grillans mutters into the blanket around his chin. A valley of dried herbs, ground bone, and vialed blood between them and Grillans can still feel the disappointed look Veida gives him. Veida, a small girl with black curly hair and stone black eyes, is the closest thing Grillans has ever had to a friend. A bond deeper than friendship, as her mother also died while giving birth to her, and their fathers promptly adopting each other into their family in solidarity. Their souls could not be better crafted to find each other.

“If I knew you’d be moping about a boy,” Veida says like nothing worse could ever happen to her, “I wouldn’ta come. Since when do ya make friends anyway?”

“I don’t, apparently.” Grillans says self-deprecatingly. Veida sends a concerned look over the table. Grillans usually blisters or snipes back at her. She sighs and resumes grinding together ingredients.

“He meant that much to ya?” Veida asks gruffly. Never mistake Veida as an emotional healer.

“Yeah.” Grillans unwinds himself from his blankets to sip at his tea, long gone cold. “Didn’t realize he did until he told me I didn’t.” Veida frown, the kind that means Grillans said something hard for her to follow, but she sighs again and slides over her mortar. Grillans grabs it and runs his thumb along his canine hard enough to cut skin. He squeezes droplets of blood into the bowl while whispering to the boar spirit, but his heart is still distracted. Expectedly, the ingredients inside deteriorate into a tar-like sludge.

“Spirits be,” Veida swears, pouring the ruined medicine into a pot with similarly ruined medicine. “Old man Vladimir won’t be able to work at this rate.” Grillans licks his thumb until the bleeding stops, re-enveloping himself in his blankets. Wet prickles at his eye, a phantom heat rising at the dent in his head where the other eye should be. Tears of anger, both at himself and Merrian. Merrian, for being a selfish boy. Grillans himself, for ever believing a western businessman could be anything but.

Small calloused hands press at the sides of Grillans’ head. He opens his eyes to Veida leaning over him, looking damn near constipated at his display of emotion. She wipes her thumb at the corner of his eye and massages at his dent.

“Hopeless sot.” Veida mutters. Grillans laughs softly, letting her chide him as she soothes his skin. He leans into her hands gratefully, knowing that she doesn’t favor affection by touch but is humoring his grief. The tears end after a few sobs from Grillans and he smiles at Veida in thanks.

Grillans hears the door to the docks open, turning and expecting his father. Instead he sees Merrian, an unusually blank look on his face. His eyes are trained on where Veida holds his face, a dark look in them before meeting Grillans’ eye. Merrian breaks into a polite smile then.

“Did I come at a bad time?” Merrian asks, a playful lit to his words. He steps in and closes the door behind him, sliding up to the back of the couch and putting his chin in his hand. “You never told me you had a lady friend, friend.” Merrian whispers into Grillans ear, causing his to jump from his seat and Veida to stumble back from him.

“Why are ya ‘ere?” Grillans nearly yells, an odd cocktail of confusion, hate, and relief. Veida glares at Merrian, stepping around Grillan and putting her small frame between them. Merrian straightens to his full height, making Veida almost comically small.

“So yer this Merrian character?” Veida juts her chin.

“Guilty.” Merrian puts a hand on his chest. He glances at Grillans questioningly before continuing. “And you are?”

“None of ya business. Who said you were allowed back ‘ere?” Merrian raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise.

“Am… I not allowed?” Merrian looks at Grillans. Grillans tries to summon the feelings of anger that have kept him trapped these past days and comes up empty. He clears his throat.

“Nah, yer fine.” Grillans stutters. Veida whips around and looks at him in shock. She slaps his side and Grillans flinches.

“Don’t just let this bastard walk over ya!” Veida growls. Grillans knows she has a point, but seeing Merrian here sets him off kilter. His neatly brushed gold hair, mysterious green eyes, the soft peach of his lips…

“If I may,” Merrian coughs into his fist, “I came today to clear the air. I should’ve come earlier, I’m well aware, but my mother was quite cross when I was late to my coming of age ceremony.”

“Comin’ of age?” Grillans says before he can think. “Yer older than me?”

Merrian grins cheekily. “Am I now?”

“What’s this about an apology?” Veida interrupts. Merrian looks down at her like he forgot she was there.

“Yes, right. Grillans, my—“ Merrian closes his mouth sharply with a painful clack, Veida giving him a wildly disapproving look. “Excuse me, rather, Grillans, friend, I have reflected on my involvement with you over these last months and it has come to my attention that how I conduct myself has caused you undue harm. For that, I apologize and seek to amend our relationship.” Merrian finishes, head slightly bowed.

Grillans stares at him blankly. “Haw?”

“What kinda apology is that?” Veida practically shouts. “Ya barely said anythin! Damn westerners don’t even know how ta apologize right.”

“I don’t know what you mean, I quite clearly apologized.”

“Sure, but fer what?” Grillans says.

“For my conduct.” Merrian says firmly, an angry flush coming into his skin.

“I heard that part. What conduct?”

“Well, you know, my conduct!” Merrian sputters like it’s obvious. “Coming here every week, being overly familiar, invading personal space, the like!”

“The first thing ya did when ya came in was whisper inta Grilllans’ ear.” Veida says flatly. Both Grillans and Merrian flush. Merrian shoots her a glare.

“Yes, well, I apologize for that too!” Merrian waves his hand around like swatting at flies. He turns on his heel and starts to walk out.

Grillans quickly grabs for his arm. “Ya don’ need ta apologize fer bein’ friendly.” Merrian turns again to face him. The look of frustration on Merrian is unfamiliar to Grillans, the lines in his face foreign.

“Then why? Why cast me out?” Merrian’s eyes pierce Grillans. “No matter how I turn the events of that day over in my head that’s the only explanation I can find. We are business partners, and I over stepped my bounds. Truly, I apologize as the party with more power over our situation.”

“More power?” Grillans repeats incredulously. “It was never about power. Not ta me.” Grillans’ face twist with his emotions, the anger finally returning. “Ya, on th’ other ‘and, seems like that’s all that’s on yer mind. Was it always business?”

“What else can it be?” Merrian mutters. The air grows tense as the silence prolongs. Grillans’ tongue feels thick in his mouth, unused to these kind of conversations. What he wants is to forgive Merrian. Not because Merrian has really recognized what happened and wants to grow, but because Grillans wants him around. To think he’d feel this way about some western boy…

“We’re taught ‘round here that apologies are best done with actions.” Veida says to Merrian, who once again looks like he forgot she was here. She pointed to the table of medicine ingredients. “Sit.”

Merrian glances uncertainly at Grillans. Grillans just shrugs, gesturing for him to go ahead. He knows better than to fight Veida on anything. Merrian shuffles over and sits cris-cross, back perfectly straight. He looks ridiculous at the worn table’s head.

Veida rattles a bottle of rat ribs in front of Merrian’s face. “Yer gonna take five o’ these and grind em.” She slides over her mortar and pestle. Veida then wanders into Grillans’ kitchen and Merrian glances at Grillans with wide eyes. Grillans laughs, Merrian turning red and glares petulantly. The westerner glares at the mortar and pestle, then the bones, and counts out five. He lines them up, curving towards the ceiling, and grabs the pestle. Merrian then slams down the pestle long-ways and starts rolling it like he was making flat bread. Grillans rests a hand on Merrians arm, face slack-jaw and glazed over in disbelief. Grillans grabs the pestle from Merrian and scoops as much of the bone as he can in its mashed state, then, while looking Merrian solidly in the eyes, uses the pestle as their ancestors rightfully intended. Grillans sets the finished product in front of Merrian.

Merrian holds his face in his hands the moment Grillans breaks eye contact. He peaks out after a moment and mutters, “Is it too late to claim that was a western method?” A faint grin grows on his lips as Grillans shakes his head solemnly.

Veida comes back into the living room with an ornate white mortar and pestle, runes and grooves as familiar to Grillans as his own name. Veida gingerly sets Grillans’ grandmother’s mortar down with respect, whispering quietly so her soul continues to rest peacefully. Grillans does the same.

“It’s beautiful.” Merrian breathes like the words were pulled out from him. Compared to Veida’s plain stone pair, it does seem quite ostentatious. “Why haven’t I seen it before, friend?”

“It’s our families’.” Grillans says, not looking away from the mortar. He can faintly feel his grandmothers wrinkled hands on his shoulders, the faint metallic sent that always followed after her. “‘S a lil personal.” At this Grillans looks at Veida. It’s already shaky ground inviting Merrian into their village’s medical practices, him knowing so or not, but it’s another to show a blatantly traditional tool in front of an inlander. One wrong word could send the milita to their door with fiery intent.

Though he guesses his father striking a deal with a westerner held the same danger.

Veida simply shrugs him off and starts grinding down bramble. I guess they’re making another pass at old man Vladimir’s atrophy medicine. Grillans’ family mortar sings as the pestle runs along the bowl, nostalgic to Grillans. It’s not the same when his father uses the mortar for their meals, the medicinal way of grinding like the boar themselves is hopping around.

“Beautiful, sonorous, and practical.” Merrian says, one again in awe of the mortar. He looks at Grillans with a twinkle in his eye, the former already puffed up with pride. “Something westerners should learn from, surely?”

“Gimme yers.” Veida says, already grabbing the edge of her mortar. She looks in and swirls the ground up bone. “Not bad,” she mutters noncommittally, pouring it into the larger mortar and mixing. She then slides the bowl to Grillans. He stares at the bowl a moment before glancing at Merrian. He’s sitting still for the most part, the picture of nonchalantness. But his hands fidget, a subtle reminder of the first time, and only time, Grillans ever fragrantly conducted magic with Merrian’s knowledge. The memory brings the faint pain of countless cuts.

Grillans takes a deep breath, sighs, then brings his thumb up to cut.

Grillans can feel Merrian’s eyes on him as he squeezes drops of blood into his family mortar. When he speaks to the boar spirit this time, the magic catches. Not just the aftertaste that comes with their spirit, but this time there’s the pressure Grillans remembers his grandmother pressed into him when he was young and just learning. A tell begetting her pride in his power. In a blink, the mess of ingredients turn into a vibrant red liquid.

“Finally!” Veida snatched the mortar back from Grillans, pouring the medicine into a new vials. She then pointed at new ingredients for Merrian to grind, snapping amounts and instructions for grinding motions. While Merrian would go through the motions, he didn’t seem to listen intently. He worked absentmindedly, at least one eye on Grillans, especially when Grillans did magic.

Focused. Absent minded. Commenting or just glancing. Intent, or curious? Grillans cannot tell and will not ask.

[oc-ology]

How to OC post without being an artist (or spending money)!

As much as I yelled about OC-posting, some people said that they struggled to know what exactly they should be posting. Obviously the answer is whatever you feel like but if you’re already aimless, that answer isn’t very helpful. Additionally, not everyone knows how to draw (which I think is an obvious method of OC-posting) so I wanted to give some ideas for what people could post for their OC! This will be split up into different sections.

Creating visual representations of your OC

Disclaimer: I will not suggest nor support the usage of generative AI. OCs are about creating something yourself, not allowing a computer to do it for you.

Outside of commissioning someone else for art, it can be disappointing and frustrating to not have any visual representation for your character. An easy way to get a representation of your character is to use Picrew, Meiker and other similar sites. There’s a large number of art styles, types of fashion, species, that can all be used to make your OC and that amount only grows by the day. Many of these websites can be accessed on PC and mobile and take very little processing power.

However, this can be limiting at times since you might not find exactly what you’re looking for, especially if your OC has a unique combination of features. For something with more customisation, you can use video games with character creation to make a version of your character. I personally would recommend games like The Sims or Skyrim as both have very active modding communities. This way, if a certain type of clothing or facial feature isn’t present in the base game then you can often find someone who has created a mod that adds it in instead. This does require you to have access to a computer that can run not only the game but the mods as well.

Another option would be using a program like Vroid Studio to make your character from a base model. This has both a mobile and PC version, although I will primarily be speaking from a PC perspective. The mobile app, while able to create a character from scratch, is a lot more limited than the PC version. The great thing about Vroid is that there’s a lot of user-made content that you can often get for free through websites like Booth, as well as many tutorials for beginners to follow along with. Again, this requires a computer that is able to run it. I would recommend against using Vroid on a laptop as it will likely be too intensive for it.

My final suggestion for character visuals is to take a character from anime or cartoons and simply edit them. This was actually how I first got into making original characters! You can recolour their hair or outfits with an editing program (with some free examples being FireAlpaca, Krita or GIMP) and even edit different images together to create something more unique. Please only do this with characters from existing media and avoid using fanart for this.

Other OC visuals

Other than just what your OC looks like, there are other ways to visually put together your OC. Moodboards are the most obvious example of this, but you can also edit other things such as putting together outfits for them or finding pictures of items they would keep in their bag.

If you have multiple OCs, you can create fake text conversations between them using a number of websites. These can be as silly or as serious as you like!

Finally, you can always build them a pinterest board. I am a massive pinterest enjoyer and not only can you use pins that others have posted to pinterest, you can add your own from off the site. 

Writing

Beyond writing out your characters’ story, there are numerous other things you can write. Keeping in line with what you’ve already written, you can re-write scenes from alternative perspectives. These can add context to what is seen in the main story, as well as flesh out background or side characters and their relationship to your other OCs.

Another fun thing to write is non-canon scenes. Write a beach episode! Write about a character getting sick and someone else having to take care of them! There are countless ways to draw your OCs interacting with their world or other characters that wouldn’t necessarily ever fit into the “main” story.

Next is genre changes. If you had to categorise the genre of your OCs’ current story, what would it be? Now image what if the genre was something completely different? Romance to mystery… Slice of life to horror… Part of the challenge is figuring out what story beats remain the same and what gets changed, including character dynamics! And of course… Alternate Universes. There are too many types of AUs to list but some of my favourites are superpowers, mafia, zombies, time loops and time-travel-fix-its. These are similar to genre-changes but often include a number of AU specific tropes. If you’re struggling to figure out the staples of a certain AU or what kind of AUs exist, there’s a really good page about alternate universes on Fanlore.org!

Other ideas

These are ideas that didn’t quite fit into the other categories.

First is music playlists! There are two types of these. The first is a playlist of songs that describe a character and their story while the second is a playlist of songs that the character would listen to. Some people like to combine the two as well! There are no rules to this, simply have fun listening to music and picking out songs that remind you of your OCs.

Second is incorrect quotes. I remember these used to be beloved by fandom and now they can be beloved by you and your OCs! The concept of incorrect quotes is that well-known and funny quotes from pop culture (such as memes or movies) get written out and your characters are assigned a line of dialogue. While there’s a website that’ll generate these incorrect quotes for you, I personally find more fun in coming across quotes organically while scrolling social media and realising that they fit my OCs almost perfectly.

Finally, ask games. These typically take the form of lists of questions or prompts with emojis or numbers next to them. People can send in the relevant emoji or number and you then answer the corresponding prompt. There used to be a kind of “ask game etiquette” where if you reblogged an ask game from someone, you sent an ask from the list to them as well. This way, it allows the game to continue circulating and you can spread the joy of OC-posting with others! It can also lead you to making friends within the community.

And that’s it for my post! If you have other suggestions for kinds of OC-posting then I would love to see them!

[writingforlosers]

Easy and Fun Character Exercises!

Alright, so i've been having a lot of fun with character exercises lately and thought i'd share some of my tips!

Write a scene from each main characters perspective, even if the story only has one perspective. This really helps to get into your characters thought process and see what their motivations are, what people they gravitate towards, and if they're an optimist/pessimist/realist, etc.

Write a dream sequence or scene where the main character's worst fear happens. I've done this with almost all wips i write because it really fleshes out your character to have fears. I usually do three fears: one future fear, (not being remembered, losing a loved one, never travelling the world) one common fear, (spiders, heights, public speaking) and then one "person" fear, like if a person did this to them they would be scared, (yelling, vulnerability, grabbing their hand)

Make your characters have connections. This can be two main characters secretly being ex-lovers, or one of the characters having a younger sister who comes in handy halfway through the story. Things like this that are infrequently brought up and then suddenly come to full effect are reall fun to read and realize!

let me know if you guys would like to hear more, and ask me any questions you'd like advice or tips about! I am in no way an expert, but I do really enjoy writing and love helping others. :)

[dalishious]

(I can’t believe I finished this so fast… I basically blacked out and then it was done lol… Anyway, please remember that this is all just my personal opinion, and if you feel differently, that’s fine!)

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Review

Objectively speaking, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a fun game that the average player is going to enjoy, especially if that average player is coming in without any prior knowledge to the Dragon Age franchise. I believe this is a good jumping-in spot for people who are curious about the world of Thedas. But in contrast, I have seen a lot of criticism from other hard-core fans that I largely agree with. However, it just so happens that most of the criticism I have is not enough to prevent me from overall enjoying the game. That is to say, for pretty much everything I did not like, there was also something I thought was great… Unfortunately, that makes it a little difficult to give a review. So, I’m going to do my best to keep things as clear and concise as possible by splitting up the “good” and the “bad” aspects of DATV.

The Positive

The best thing to come out of DATV is the new cast of characters that make up your companions and supporting associates. While I do think that some of them could have benefitted from more development time to flesh things out further, just judging what we ended up with, is mostly great. I especially found Emmrich and Bellara to be stand-out examples of strong personalities to grasp onto, whose personal stories really touched me in an emotional way.

DATV also has fun with some returning characters. For example, now that Solas is no longer hiding his identity, we get to see a character that both believably honours his part in Inquisition, while also providing a new, refreshing side to him. There are also a number of characters introduced in Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights that appear in the game, like my personal favourites Teia and Viago, who are an absolute delight to interact with!

I think the three act structure is good, albeit with act three being quite short. There are a few sequences that are an absolutely phenomenal mixture of storytelling and engaging gameplay, like all of Weisshaupt! I also really enjoyed stepping out of the main story every once and a while, and into Solas’s backstory through the Crossroads memories – what ended up being extra special about these is how they mirror Rook’s struggle so well, by the end. They are a nice touch.

The locations are beautifully constructed with smooth interactions of climbing, zip-lining, and essentially parkouring your way around, making them fun to explore! They also came with such distinct flavours and character in themselves that influenced a sense of truly experiencing different parts of Thedas, with different cultures.

The mechanic of building up strength with the different factions, and that actually having a huge impact with the ultimate showdown in the end of the game, makes side quests feel far less inconsequential than in Dragon Age: Inquisition by comparison. That, and they number far less.

I like that the story mode actually feels like a story mode; there were only a couple instances where I really had to worry about death, and even then, I was able to just toggle off the death with the customizable gameplay mechanics and continue on.

Finally, it would be remiss not to say that the character creator for DATV is the best BioWare has ever put out. I’d go as far as saying it’s one of the best in any RPG I’ve ever personally experienced. From the flexibility in morphing a character’s head and body between custom shapes, to the little details like sclera colour, vitiligo, and top surgery scars, makes it a shining example of what RPG’s should strive for. (My only critique here is that it would have been nice to have more skin colours.)

The Neutral

I hated the combat for pretty much the entire first act of the game. I found it too hard to keep up with, and too much like Mass Effect bullshit. I can’t say that it’s completely grown on me yet, but I don’t hate it anymore. It’s fine. So, I’m giving this a special little spot before I get into what I didn’t like all the way to the end.

The Negative

As mentioned above, I do think that there is more that could be done with some of the characters to really achieve their full potential. Davrin and Lucanis—while to be clear I still really enjoy as they are—come to mind first, in terms of those who would have benefited from more development time. Most of Davrin’s screen time just revolves around Assan rather than Davrin himself, and Lucanis is so restrained that it takes a while to really crack him open. Both of these characters have intentional personalities that make them harder to get to know, I understand that, but I feel that it would have been all the more rewarding to have more time dedicated to their company after earning their trust and possibly endearment. Instead, it feels like their romance and friendship with Rook are only half-complete, and then rushed to finish.

There are some companion interactions that are just… cringe. There is no other word for it. Now, this is nothing new for BioWare games, but I feel like the “pulling a Bharv” scene for example, was hitting an entirely new low. (If someone misgendered me and then just started doing push-ups instead of just saying “hey sorry about that, I’ll try to do better” I’d be annoyed, not satisfied.) I also felt like most of the temporary rivalries between companions were artificial in nature, rather than organically part of their characters that actually served a purpose. We already knew Emmrich likes books and Harding likes nature; we did not need a whole cutscene with them bickering about camping. (The exception to this is Davrin and Lucanis, who genuinely had room to grow as people out of their multiple confrontations, not just a one-off scene.)

The music in DATV is, for the most part, forgettable and bland. There is one piece that really stands out, and that’s “Where the Dead Must Go”, which is a real banger. I am not a fan of Hans Zimmer’s OST otherwise; I think it is phoned in, just like most of his work. I deeply wish BioWare would have just stuck with Trevor Morris. The best parts musically in this game are just Morris’s work re-used from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

There are certain parts of disjointedness that separates DATV from the past games that are just… bizarre. This is especially the case when it comes to elven lore. For example, Bellara saying she is afraid that elves will be harshly judged for the Evanrus, or Harding saying that elves are “thriving”… as if modern elves are not deeply persecuted across most of Thedas. It made me question more than once if there just was not time in development to do a proper canon-compliancy check with everything, perhaps?

I want finish this part by bringing up again that the biggest flaw in DATV is that it feels very corporate. To repeat what I said in this post: It is as if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance, in an overcorrection to be “safe”. But now that the edges have been so smoothed down to make a block into a ball, it can no longer support anything.

Conclusion

It’s easy to see a lot of creativity went into the creation of this game… but it is also easy to make assumptions on how that creativity was constrained by development hell and corporate oversight. In the end though, Dragon Age: The Veilguard succeeded in being an overall good time, one that I will no doubt be putting just as many countless hours into as the previous installments in the franchise. 7/10.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! Could you talk more about "character development exercises", please?:]

Character Development Exercises

Character development exercises are writing exercises you can do to help you explore and develop your characters. This isn't a required part of writing or character development, but many writers find it helpful. Here are some that I like to do when I'm struggling to get to know a character:

Character Interview - imagine that you’ve pulled your character out of a story into the room and now have the opportunity to interview them. What questions would you ask them? What do you want to know about them that you don’t already know? What do you think the reader would want to know? What might be pertinent to the story that you haven’t thought about yet?

TV Crew follow around - Imagine you’ve dropped an invisible TV crew into your story’s world to follow your character around through an average day (even if it's anachronistic). Follow them from the moment they wake up until the moment they go to bed that night. What are they like when they wake up? What is their morning routine? What do they eat for breakfast? How do they get ready? What do they do throughout the day? Who do they interact with? What else do they eat and drink? What do they do for fun or relaxation? How to they make money or meet their basic needs? What is their bedtime routine like?

Letters or Journal Entries - Look at your character's back story, off-screen events, etc. and find something for your character to write about in a journal entry or a letter to another character. What would they say about this event? How does it make them feel? What do they think about it?

Use Your Character in a Writing Prompt - Look at some writing prompts and do one using your character as the main character. You can keep it within your story's world or plop them into a whole different world. Whatever works for you and your story. This is about getting to know this character in a different context than the events of your story provides.

Create a Character Mood Board/Aesthetic - Mood boards go a long way in mentally fleshing out a character for me. Being able to have a visual representation of their style, their vibe, things that are important to them, etc. really turns them into real people in my mind.

Create a Playlist for Your Character - I think playlists can also be a really great way to mentally flesh out a character in your mind. Sometimes, just having a particular song or a playlist of songs that makes you think of them gives them some dimension they wouldn't otherwise have.

Happy writing!

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[hellincarnation]

A Possible Theory on Why Some Fandoms Are More Popular And Long Lasting Than Others

So i was thinking the other day, why the hell are some book/movie/game/etc fandoms lasting for 50+ years and others die in a year?

I was comparing some of my favourite fandoms, the Percy Jackson fandom and the Harry Potter fandom and what I noticed and discovered is to make a good fan base, you HAVE to create a good organisation in your story/game/movie/book etc.

What do I mean?

In Percy Jackson for example, we have our main character’s home base. Camp Half Blood. It’s developed in the background throughout the whole series, there is a companion book on the Camp itself, and the whole area is relatively fleshed out and utilised throughout the whole series. It’s described in detail, there are official maps released, people love the camp.

In Harry Potter, we have, of course, Hogwarts. It’s by far more developed than Camp Half Blood, with detailed classes, architecture, art, story, lore, founders. And our main characters spend majority of their time in the building itself. Hell, even the villains of the story used to attend Hogwarts

Why does this matter? Why does world building matter?

Aha. Here’s my hook. Fandoms stay alive as long as fans stay connected to the community. And how else to develop the strongest connection possible than fans being able to build their own original characters or ocs and imagine they’re in the story?

Human imagination is a powerful thing, as soon as they have a world (Hogwarts and Camp Half blood) to build off of, they can create their own characters and imagine more stories building off the Canon to keep their love for the universe alive.

This is why role play communities are so popular, in addition to having your original character and developing a story for them, having a community to showcase and use your character greatly increases your attachment to this community.

Once you make your fans feel like they are part of your world, it’s the strongest connection. Because by default, humans are selfish, they feel more close to something if it’s like they have involvement in it.

Characters VS World Building.

It’s the age old question, what’s more important?

Neither.

No one is more important than the other, it’s just a matter of what you’re trying to accomplish.

With focusing on world building, you almost confirmed yourself a space for your fans to imagine themselves in. And you can have a lot of fun with world building! Creating your own original words, terms and concepts. Your own take on real world events and items and applying it to your story.

However you can’t focus on both so your characters might need to be limit to 2-3 main ones, to balance out your complex and intricate world.

With focusing on characters, you build yourself loyalty based on attachment to characters. This may not yield as much original characters/fan led creation as focusing on world building, but the perks are your characters explode into main stream. Art will be drawn of them, fanfictions will be written about them, headcanons, adaptations etc. By pouring effort into your characters, you create deep and meaningful bonds with specific characters that people will remember.

Maybe 10 years down the line, your fans may not remember everything about the story, or the environment or the world you created, but they will look back one day and go “Good lord, that was an AMAZING character that I still love to this day.” And that’s amazing for you.

This is exactly the case with Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. In my opinion, Hogwarts is wildly more developed than Camp Half Blood for obvious reasons. Hogwarts is a school and CHB is a homebase. Most of the time PJO characters are on quests away form their home base but HP characters are almost always in Hogwarts.

So how do you world build?

1. Of course create your organisation, base it off maybe a real life historical organisation with your own twist.

2. Build a rich and complex backstory, with specific historical figures that contributed to the creation of your organisation.

3. Build ROLES. Build divisions and department in your organisation. Think houses in Hogwarts and cabins in Camp Half Blood. Build specific roles your fans can imagine themselves as. Prefect, Head Girl/Boy, Head Counsellor.

4. Describe describe describe. You have all this amazing lore in your arsenal, now weave and intertwine your characters with them. Make your characters attached to the organisation and want to protect it. Mix your plot and story with it, make it so your organisation MATTERS to the story.

TL;DR

World building is hella important.

Heyyy, this isn’t proofread. Reblog or like if you enjoyed it. Or don’t.

Tags: ask to be added or removed

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[writers-potion]

Can you please give me tips on how to develop a magic system? If you've already written the tips, just send me a link to the post. Here's what I have so far:

There are seven forces of magic, namely, Passion, Desire, Joy, Hope, Trust, Clarity, and Love. To use magic, you must channel at least two of the forces. I don't really have anything beyond that.

How can I flesh this out?

Questions For Developing A Magic System

Hello! Thanks for the question. Here are some related posts to your question: Magic System Ideas, Writing Magic Systems, Writing Magicians - the basics

That said, I’ll flesh out some of my ideas based on the information given in your question. Here are some questions you can use to make the magic system specific:

What is the effect of the magic? Generally, magic will either be destructive or constructive or both. Is the purpose of your magic to make a person feel the corresponding emotions? 

Does one person have only one type of magic, forcing your characters to work together?

Also consider how you’re going to differentiate the different type of magic – through the use of color, the physical appearances of the different types of magicians, different symbols, different ways of activation, etc. 

Do the different type of magic users like or dislike each other in general? 

Can this magic be learned, or must one be born into it? 

If the magic must be learnt > competitive schooling/training for aspiration magicians, unlocking different “levels” of a type of magic, is it common or rare or people to be able to use 

If the magic is born into > discrimination between magical vs. non-magical people, conflict between “superior” and “non-superior” forms of magic, etc. 

I think a magic system (apart from being a part of worldbuilding) must provide the basis for interesting conflict. Think about how you can make use of the characteristics of your magic system to pull the plot through a main conflict and back to resolution. 

For example, 

There are “good” combinations of the seven magical forces and “bad” combinations that would cancel each other out…or worse. Magicians with different types of magic either alley with each other or have long-standing beef based on how “friendly” their magic forces are to one another. 

The seven types of magic are tiered. Some magicians monopolize power and inherit it throughout generations – until the hero comes along. 

Enemies-to-lovers dynamic where the hero and heroin have to work together because they’d be useless on their own. 

You can also consider what your magic system means for us in the real world. All of your magic types are emotions. Is the ultimate moral of the story that we must be willing to embrace conflicting emotions rather than just chasing happiness? Or that every one of these is equally valuable? 

Magic systems can be satirical.

Magic systems can be a twisted version of a real-life social/governmental/corporate system, often to critique the real world.

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