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thisblogisaboutabook · 1 month

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When the Lightsinger Calls (I Hear a Symphony)

An Azriel Drabble

Azriel daydreams of his mate -Inspired by ‘I Hear a Symphony’ by Cody Fry

I used to hear a simple song.

The warm winds of summer blew through the Illyrian mountains as Azriel sat sprawled on a thick branch fifty feet in the air, one leather covered leg dangling as the other stretched across the branch, his back resting against the trunk of an old Oak tree.

Cassian had been butting heads with Devlon for hours. Same shit, different day as they heatedly negotiated new terms for the training of Illyrian females. Devlon, of course, remained as stubborn as an ass. Even after decades of his bullshit, it never failed to chafe Azriel’s nerves that they were under the regime of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history yet had to make nice with stuck-in-their-ways pricks like him. Today in particular had left Azriel feeling less than giving.

Cassian booted Azriel out of negotiations in record time, which admittedly, was likely for the best. Azriel’s dominant stance, deadly gaze, and violent whirling shadows were not best suited for these futile attempts of “sweet talking” Devlon out of his deeply rooted misogyny. If Azriel had his way Truth Teller would do all the talking, but diplomacy unfortunately took precedence.

He may have put up more of a fight when storming out of the Camp Lord’s office had Cassian’s weapon of choice today not had a unique way of toeing that line between diplomacy and force in a way that even Truth Teller could not. No blood spillage necessary, though, Azriel thought with a smirk, the weapon could do just that as well.

The warmth of the suns rays shining through the rustling leaves and the scratch of bark lightly grazing the sensitive membranes of his wings - hitting those spots he could never quite reach - had Azriel drifting off into a light dream state.

As he began to doze, shadows hummed around him, the whistling breeze mixing in with their whirring as they sensed for any incoming threats.

Blending in with their simple song, the creek nearby babbled with the sounds of trickling water, crickets chirped beneath rocks below.

His thoughts became more vivid as his conscience drifted deeper into sleep.

His jaw ticked, wings jerking slightly as he dreamed glimpses of deep red coating his marred skin from the countless souls he’d drawn blood from, lifeless bodies scattered across bloody battlefields, dark cells, the bright flare of roaring fire scalding a child’s hands, his shadows melody becoming broken as they attempted to soothe their master.

The melody became lighter as the flame in his dreams became flashes of light, blurred glimpses of a lovely face appearing in and out of his dreams. A soft laugh intertwined itself with his shadows, the solemn hymn becoming lighter, with vibrant bursts of energy leaving his heart fluttering. More images of the ethereal face flickered through his mind, soft blush dusted cheeks, a radiant white smile, supple fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, plush lips on bare skin, all appearing to the beat of the rising staccato. His lips quirked upward in his sleep as his guard dropped lower and lower and the melody continued growing louder, building into the crescendo of the loveliest symphony he’d heard yet, even in Prythian’s most renowned concert halls.

The music filled Azriel’s entire being, leaving him light as shadow, his flaws forging themselves from ugly into something beautiful, something worthy, as the melody carried his soul toward the light.

Just as his body began to slump out of the tree a sing-song voice brighter than day awoke him. “Careful, Shadowsinger. One might think you’re sleeping on the job.”

He looked down to his beautiful mate, the face his dream had called him to. “My little Lightsinger, did you give Devlon hell?”

She beamed. “Worked a little on him. The girls get seven more hours per week and Cass or I can do spot checks whenever we please. I’ll push for more when we meet again in a few months.”

“That’s my girl.” His eyes shone with the pride filling his chest as he launched out of the tree and swept her off her feet.

“Let’s go home.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. Azriel only blushed and did just as his lady said, the two falling into companionable silence as her light and his shadow mingled in harmony the entire flight back to Velaris.

And now I hear a symphony.

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science-lings · 8 days

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#you can tell i have a favorite lmao #im sorry i think about phoenix at all hours of the day #these are jokes kinda but im also serious about them #phoenix and franziska would be such funny friends #i need to make their relationship chart connect on every point #narumitsu are married franmaya are married miles and maya go to cons that leaves one pair #i also think that they hang out during the 7yg europe trips when edgeworth is busy #they should get into hyjinks and Phoenix should be her weirdgirl while Trucy helps miles in court #what im saying is that they can stand each other #ask me to elaborate on any of these I dare you #i have several ideas on how Phoenix is legally a Fey #he just has like four separate Feys look at him like he's a lost kitten and decide that he's one of them #i tried to keep them somewhat unique like obviously phoenix has adhd and miles is autistic and magic literally exists to an extent #we all know apollo has tboy swag #i think it's late enough in the day to be silly ill let myself have this #ace attorney #pheonix wright #kay faraday #franziska von karma #ryunosuke naruhodo #ryuunosuke naruhodou #andromedas poll hell #lana skye #trans phoenix wright

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clockwork-ashes · 11 days

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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XI

Find Part I here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere

Lucien tried but failed to settle the racing and unsteady beat of his heart.

Like the quick rhythm of hummingbird wings, Lucien could feel his own pulse fluttering softly in his throat. He was unsure of what to expect, what he might be forced to face once again within the walls of his childhood home. The unknowns created a deep sense of dread in his bones, the weight of his own anxiety unbelievably heavy.

Music could be heard, low and lovely, as Lucien led Elain with unhurried steps towards the looming oak doors just ahead of them. It was near haunting, echoing strangely along the empty stone corridors.

Elain walked close to Lucien’s side, each point of contact with him leaving a searing mark. Her arm was hooked through his, her shoulder pressed against him.

Lucien glanced at her briefly. He had thought Elain was devastatingly beautiful from the moment he had laid eyes on her, she was even more so in Autumn colours. The emerald fabric of her dress had a stunning effect on her eyes, darkening them by a few shades so that they looked like earth after a storm. He found that there was something regal about the way Elain held herself, that if she set her mind to it she could convince anyone that she had been born to rule.

Still, Lucien was worried. He did not trust his father, and he trusted his brothers even less. Eris had made it glaringly obvious that Elain’s well-being did not matter, considering he had brought her to Autumn. If anything happened to his mate, Lucien knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

As though she could sense where his thoughts were going, Elain brought her other hand up. Slowly caressing Lucien’s forearm in a gesture meant to comfort, Elain did not look at him before once again taking hold of her skirts.

Lucien’s shock was a shooting star, brief and fleeting. He was still finding it hard to believe that it was Elain’s choice to come for him, that she had considered his life worth the risk of her own.

“Any advice?” Elain’s question was soft as she tilted her head and turned to look up at him. It cut through the music, drawing Lucien’s focus instantly. They had not spoken since the moment they had left their shared suite, Lucien’s hand had been shaking with tiny tremors after having placed the comb in Elain’s hair.

Still walking, Lucien looked into Elain’s dark eyes, captivated. He had to remind himself that she was almost a stranger to him, and yet he felt as though he had always known her.

“I have a whole lifetime’s worth,” he offered her a crooked grin, unsure of what exactly he should tell her.

Elain looked up at him through her long lashes. “Seeing as we don’t have all the time in the world,” her lips tugged up in a small, amused smile. “Try and keep it brief.”

“No matter what anyone in that ballroom says, don’t let it get to you.” His grin faltered at her raised brow, and he wondered how he should phrase his next words so that they made more sense. “They’ll all be testing the waters, seeing if they can get a rise out of you—and me. Don’t let them.”

“Isn’t Autumn fire?” Elain asked, "I would have thought everyone’s emotions were raging.” She blushed suddenly, her cheeks turning a deep scarlet, and she quickly turned to look straight ahead.

Lucien continued to look at her, not wanting his gaze to fall anywhere else. “Just the opposite,” he shook his head, tearing his attention away from the pale column of Elain’s neck. “Our emotions, our reactions, even our flames…” Lucien shrugged, “everything must be tamed.”

Elain hummed in understanding, falling silent as they approached the ballroom.

Lucien glanced at the guards stationed by the entrance, searching their faces, trying to see if he perhaps recognized them. On a phantom wind, the doors swung open, revealing the already filled and busy hall. The music grew louder, the sound of the string instruments full of longing.

Elain pressed closer to Lucien’s side, clutching at his arm tightly. So no one else could hear, Lucien leaned down so that he could whisper. His lips were close to the arch of her ear, not touching her, but he could have sworn that he felt her shiver.

“Don’t worry, Elain.” He murmured, her heart beating faster. She seemed to have stopped breathing as soon as he finished his sentence.

Her name.

Lucien still rushed to reassure her, “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He meant the words more than he had meant anything else in his long life.

Her eyes wide, face tilted like she was his lover, set on placing a kiss on his jaw, Elain nodded. “I know,” she breathed, eyes locked for a moment before they both turned to look ahead.

Together, arms linked, a united front, they entered the room. Elain nearly stumbled, and Lucien tightened his grip on her arm, pausing. He waited, allowing her the opportunity to carefully take in the scene before them.

Looking like a forest, nearly a canopy, waves of High Fae dressed in the various colours of falling leaves gracefully walked along the floor of the ballroom. The incessant thrum of mingling, gossiping, rose above the sound of the music as everyone waited for the arrival of the High Lord.

The sun had fallen, and no light came in from the arched windows that spanned the entire length of the walls. The shimmering chandeliers and the countless fireplaces were lit instead, casting flickering shadows that drew Elain’s attention. Lucien noticed that the musicians had been set up near the table strewn with refreshments and pastries, on the large room’s farthest side.

No one turned to stare, but Lucien could feel eyes on him and Elain. He must look so different to them, and Lucien was struck with the sudden realisation that every faerie here would know his past, regardless if they personally knew him.

It was a terrible relief that Elan was unaware of Lucien’s history, he thought, and that as a result, she would have no expectations of him.

“Well, if it isn’t little Lucien Vanserra,” a female voice spoke from behind him, one that he easily recognized. Fighting the urge to wince, Lucien stiffened as he felt slender fingers trace along his back. He felt as Elain did the same, her spine straightening although she did not turn to see who had approached them.

Instead, Lucien flashed his practised courtier’s smile. “Lethe,” he said, her name rolled off his tongue sharply, familiar.

“Lady Lethe,” she corrected, her answering smile was all poison as she stood in front of them. Light brown hair pinned away from her face, falling in a long straight sheet to her waist, Elain’s eyes tracked Lethe’s every move carefully. In a decision that could only be considered a slight, Lethe did not look at Elain, did not acknowledge her presence. “I have lands to my name now.”

Lucien bowed his head in an apology of sorts. “You have my condolences then, for your husband,” he added. Knowing Lethe, she had probably orchestrated the whole thing, killed the elderly fae she had married and taken everything he had owned after his death. That, at least, Lucien could admire.

Lethe’s pout was dreadful, hardly sad, Lucien observed. “I’m terribly upset by it,” she gestured to her black skirts, the colour of mourning. Flames flared in her eyes. “May the blessed wind take his scattered ashes to only the loveliest of places.”

“Despite whatever ordeal you have been through, I’m glad to see you look well.” Lucien maintained his friendliest smile, an ember of truth in his statement. “You look well, lady, untouched by time and lovely as ever.”

“So kind,” a knowing smile graced Lethe’s sharp features, looking more like she was scowling. “You’ve certainly changed,” her eyes were the colour of dried blood as she took him in, “much more handsome now.”

Lucien felt jealousy shoot through the bond, a rare possessiveness on Elain’s part as she elegantly cleared her throat. Nose in the air, chin held high, she cast a long look at Lethe, drawing the other female’s attention.

With a small sniff, Lethe faced Elain fully. Much to his mate’s credit, she did not back away, matching the noble’s attitude.

Lethe tilted her head, a predator. “Seems like your pretty mate agrees.”

Without missing a beat, Elain responded, voice measured and unbothered. “My mother always said I would marry for beauty.”

Lucien was glad when someone clapped a heavy hand on his back, knowing exactly who it would be before he saw. When it came to Lethe, Kai was never far. Fixtures of his childhood, the two courtiers were his eldest brother’s closest friends.

Lucien had not seen either of them since his exile, and had avoided both Lethe and Kai even if he had been in the Autumn Court on behalf of Tamlin. Eris had trusted them both, not only with his own life, but with Lucien’s as well. Lucien wondered if that was still the case, if Eris was capable of maintaining any type of friendship.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Kai said, voice loud. “Good to see you, Lucien.” His smile was friendly and sincere, a clever trick to hide how dangerous of a male he truly was. He had always been kind to Lucien, kinder still to Eris, but his reputation in Autumn was one of cruelty. He offered Elain a deep bow, looking up at her with eyes the colour of dead leaves.

Elain dipped into an elegant curtsy, releasing her hold on Lucien’s arm. “Pleasure to meet you,” she offered, never taking her gaze off him.

“Pleasure’s all mine, lady,” with the full force of Kai’s charming smile on his mate, Lucien had to fight the urge not to snarl.

Kai was unbelievably lovely. Dark brown hair fell in loose curls to his shoulders, eyes an even darker shade were framed by sharp brows. He was dressed well, simply but no less flattering, his tan skin near glowing with whatever power he had inherited from his Spring Court mother.

Lucien’s jealousy was ridiculous, considering he had known the male for decades and did not even think Kai was interested in females. Elain pressed closer to Lucien’s side, her hand gently circling his lower back, a lover’s caress.

Kai tracked Elain’s gesture before he turned his attention back to Lucien. “Have you seen your brothers?” He asked, brow raised, Lethe next to him.

“Which ones?” Lucien responded, although he was fairly certain Kai was looking for Eris.

Kai shrugged his broad shoulders, a frown tugging his full lips down. “Any of them, I suppose.”

“Eris came before us, the rest I couldn’t say,” Lucien felt Elain’s unease as she stood on the tips of her toes, attempting to look over everyone’s heads. She was probably searching for Cora, Lucien concluded.

“We’ve yet to see him,” Lethe offered, her nose scrunching in distaste.

Lucien opened his mouth to respond when a sudden hush fell over the large crowd. The musicians came to a natural stop, ending their song beautifully, just as the High Lord and Lady of Autumn gracefully made their way into the room.

His father was handsome in a jacket the exact shade of fresh blood, striking with the small golden crown on his head. His mother walked at Beron’s side, face serious, as they both paused on the area cleared of furniture and nobles in the middle of the room, the dance floor ready.

“Tonight,” the High Lord’s voice boomed, “we celebrate the return of my youngest son.” A glass of wine, a red so deep Lucien nearly flinched at the sight, appeared in his father’s hand. Beron’s smile was sharp as glass as he raised his hand in Lucien and Elain’s direction. “And we welcome his lady, Elain Archeron of Night.” His father took a small sip of wine, indicating he was nearly done, his speech rather short so as not to take away from the festivities. “You and your mate have my blessing, Lucien.”

Elain smiled shyly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear that was both endearing and modest. Already she had fallen into her role perfectly, playing the game of courtiers and nobles well.

The musicians played a cord, settling themselves as they prepared for the first dance of the evening. All eyes were on Lucien and Elain now, waiting, expecting them to take part.

“Might I have this dance?” Lucien said softly, allowing every ounce of his longing to drip into the question, loud enough for those around them to hear.

Lucien could imagine the whispers, travelling swift as a wildfire in the ballroom, all the nobles talking behind their hands about him and Elain.

As Elain’s eyes locked with his, Lucien saw no uncertainty in her gaze. She playfully knocked her shoulder into his, a small laugh escaping her, embracing her role as his betrothed. “Do you even have to ask?”

Lucien raised his hand, offering it to Elain. Delicately, her fingers traced his palm before she comfortably set her hand in his, a blush staining her cheeks. She smiled timidly up at him, sparks clear as daylight between them.

As Lucien and Elain walked to the dance floor, Lucien hoped no one could sense their shared unease, hidden behind their false smiles.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #autumn court #beron vanserra #elain and lucien dance in the next one i promise #forgive me I don't how to correctly estimate where my own plot points should go lol #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elucien #elain x lucien #thank you for reading <3 #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire

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menalez · 2 years

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u can’t even have political or intellectual discussions with men because they’ll only hear the imaginary stupid woman in their head and argue against her instead of addressing anything you’ve actually said

#truly i try to only argue with women bc they’re the only ones actually arguing with something SLIGHTLY resembling my arguments at least #if u say ‘poor people deserve support’ men might hear ‘did u just say poor people should go to court? there’s a wise man named karl marx and #actually unlike you cunts he argued that class inequality is wrong! let me explain basic irrelevant things to sound smart now’

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jtl-fics · 11 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 24

“What do you MEAN Smithy is in the hospital with a stab wound to his stomach?!” Nicky’s own voice is agony for his hangover but honestly, how the fuck else was he supposed to respond when he had asked Andrew where FF was and gotten that as a response.

“Calm down.” Andrew says and he looks tired, looks stressed, and maybe even just…a touch nervous?

Nicky isn’t as good as Neil at reading Andrew Minyard. He doesn’t think anyone will ever be as fluent in the language of Andrew Minyard as Neil Josten but Nicky has picked up some key phrases.

He can see when he’s making a joke that is a step too far. He can see when his cousin wants to kiss Neil but is holding back. He can see when his cousin is stressed.

He can see a guilty curve to Andrew’s spine.

“Andrew, answer me honestly, did you stab my sweet baby freshman?” Nicky asks and he’s not sure if the nausea he feels anymore is from horror or from the sheer number of drinks he had put in his system the night before.

Roland usually cuts him off before he gets this level.

Roland also has a habit of pouring heavier when he’s stressed.

Roland also also tends to make complicated fruity drinks that Nicky likes when he’s stressed.

Andrew’s jaw tenses but it’s Neil who speaks up, “It was an accident. It happened during a fight.” Neil says and Nicky throws his hands up in the air.

“You got into a FIGHT with my sweet baby freshman? Sweet little Smithy? The boy who made brownies that made me feel kinda straight for a dead woman?!” Nicky exclaims and sees Andrew and Neil open their mouths to say something but, “I promised him that if he wanted I’d get him something hard that’d mess his GUTS up but this isn’t what I MEANT.” He lets himself collapse dramatically over the table.

“Nicky, shut up!” Kevin hisses from his spot on the couch.

“When the fuck did Kevin get here?!” Because seriously, how fucked up was Nicky last night that he doesn’t remember Kevin coming on this Columbia trip? Where’d he sit? He couldn’t really remember coming over after Thanksgiving. Had Andrew put Kevin in the trunk? Had Andrew put Nicky in the trunk?

“He came with Wymack.” Neil cut in before Nicky started testing reality. “Wymack is at the hospital since he’s…uh…he’s the…”

“Medical Power of Attorney” Andrew answers.

“Yes! Thank you, the Medical power of attorney for Smith. He needed surgery and Wymack wanted to be nearby in case he had to make any pressing decisions.” Neil explains and yeah that tracks, he knows a little bit about FF’s family and knows that aside from his grandma on his dad’s side the rest can go take a long walk off a short volcano observation platform

“Okay, that explains why Kevin is here….how?! Despite all of the unwarranted advice, Kevin is not a medical professional.” Nicky says before turning to Kevin, “So Kevin, what insane Exy-related reason are you here? Don’t lie and say it’s because you want to sign the get well soon card.” He hisses.

“Fuck you!” Kevin spits, “I need to know how long Smiths is going to be out of commission and what his PT is going to look like. He was supposed to be starting during the spring season.” Kevin growls.

“There it is!” Nicky throws up his hands.

“Nicky, just calm down!” Neil pleads.

“How can I stay calm? Andrew stabbed Smithy! So not only is my favorite freshman in the hospital Andrew’s going to end up back on those god forsaken meds again!” Nicky shouts and buries his face in his hands.

“Smith isn’t going to say that.” Andrew’s voice is calm but Nicky can hear the slight edge.

“Oh yeah?” Nicky asks because he could see FF promising to never mention who stabbed him if Andrew would just spare his life. FF was going to be even MORE of a disaster when it came to his anxiety around Andrew. Nicky wouldn’t be surprised if his friend just straight up dropped out after this. His cousin is safe but he’s absolutely going to lose his friend.

“Because he’s saying Romero Malcolm stabbed him.” Andrew finishes.

Nicky sits up.

“Wait, what?” Nicky asks.

“Last night Romero Malcolm was at Eden’s.” Neil says voice even in a way that lets Nicky know that he’s trying to stay calm, “Smith recognized him, heard he wanted to grab,” Neil swallows thickly, “…grab one of my friends and saw them looking at…” Neil trails off and looks to Andrew who shakes his head, “…around for someone to grab.” Neil seems to decide and Nicky knows when something is being hidden from him but he’s more interested in the story than what Neil is hiding at the moment, “He got Romero’s attention so that he wouldn’t do anything bad in Eden’s and let Roland know to call help. He went out alone into the alley but Romero didn’t follow him.” Neil explains.

“Oh thank god.” Nicky sighs.

“Because he’d alerted Jackson Plank was lying in wait to ambush him.” Neil continues.

“Oh dear god.” Nicky exclaims.

“He uh…” Neil looks to Andrew who shakes his head again, “okay we don’t know exactly HOW Smith managed to do it but he beat Jackson up pretty bad.” Neil explains.

Nicky feels his brain stop working.

He has watched FF trip over his own feet, walk into four different trees, and almost sprain his ankle walking across a flat surface. He knows FF has been watching self-defense videos and had even gotten some pointers from Matt but even Matt had told him his better bet was probably just to yell “WOW WHAT’S THAT OVER THERE?!”, point behind the attacker, and run as fast as humanly possible away from a fight.

Neil is still talking.

Nicky boots back up quickly.

“…a gun. He tackled Romero into Andrew and Andrew’s knife ended up in Smith’s stomach on accident while they were wrestling for the gun. Smith is the one who said he’s going to tell everyone who asks that it was Romero. He even said it to me.” Neil says with an awkward laugh.

“And you believed him.” Andrew says and there’s warmth in his cousin’s eyes as he looks at Neil and teases him.

“And I believed him.” Neil confirms.

“Okay, so you swear to me that you did not INTENTIONALLY stab my BFF?” Nicky asks looking at Andrew seriously.

“BFF, seriously?” Kevin asks.

“Best Freshman Friend.” Nicky answers quickly, “Don’t worry Kevin, you lose out to Matt in all regards for my Best Senior Friend.” He says.

Kevin just flips him off but Nicky turns his attention back to Andrew, “Andrew, I need to hear it.” He says .

“I did not intentionally stab Smith.” Andrew confirms.

Nicky lets the horrified nausea leave him with only his hangover nausea.

“Okay, we can work with that.” Nicky leans back. “Have you heard from that Agent?” he asks looking at Neil.

Neil nods but then looks nervous and shoots a look towards Kevin, “The FBI is sending Browning and a field office agent to talk with us but…Ichirou also contacted me.” He says and Nicky watches as Kevin perks up.

“He did?!” Kevin squawks looking around like he expected the head of the Moriyama family to appear from the shadows.

“He wants to make sure we do our part to keep the Moriyama name out of this. He is going to deal with Romero and Jackson himself.” Neil says looking nervous.

Nicky clenches his eyes shut, “Well you’re not going to mention them right?” he hears Kevin ask.

“Of course not Kevin.” Nicky hears Andrew hiss.

“Good.” Kevin says.

There’s silence in the wake of Neil’s statement.

Nicky takes a deep breath and wishes his head was a little less agonizing. “Why aren’t we at the hospital to see Smithy?” he asks because he has nothing he can do about Ichirou so he may as well put it out of his mind.

There is some grumbling.

“Wymack said that he’ll just make us sit in the waiting room without any updates.” Neil says. “We’re picking up Smith’s grandma from the airport and she’s our ticket to getting an actual update beyond ‘not dead yet’ from Wymack.” He adds.

“What, you really can’t get updates without Wymack?” Nicky asks.

Andrew looks at Nicky and Nicky can’t read a single thing his cousin is thinking.

“What’s Smith’s first name Nicky.” Andrew asks.

“Oh God fucking Dammit.” Nicky’s head hurts too bad for this.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings

@blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice @percabethotplove @cozyrosykay @foxyatlas

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #I'm almost positive the next chapter will involve Grandma Smith actually #like 90%#Maybe even 95%#Aaron walks out 10 minutes later #Aaron: I feel like someone is stabbing me in the stomach #Nicky: You and Smithy both!#Aaron: ?????????#Neil: I think that it is too soon to make that joke #Andrew: At least give it 24 hours Nicky #Andrew: He might still be in surgery for all we know #Aaron: !!!!!??????#Kevin: I've been researching and it could be 4-6 weeks before Smith can be back on the Court.#Kevin: At least he'll only really miss 2 fall season games and he should be healed up by the time we start the spring season games #Aaron: What the FUCK happened and why is KEVIN here?#Andrew: We're not explaining it again figure it out yourself #GS is in the air right now #She's got a middle seat because it was a last minute booking #But the young man next to her is a real sweetheart #He speaks polish! what a small world #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #My Fics #Andreil #Fluent Freshman - Part 24

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