#ld writes

[acourtofladydeath]

Cassian Week '26, D7: Free Day

I managed to finish Chapter 4 "Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death" for the final day of @cassianappreciationweek! This chapter depicts Cassian and Nesta the night before the battle with Hybern's army at the Winter Court.

Start from chapter 1, read the new chapter, or find a snippet below!

Cassian’s blood hummed with the coming battle, his body still writing with their victory in the Summer Court. It wasn’t the first of this war, but it was certainly one of the most important. Hybern’s attack against Summer had been swift and vicious, the Prythian forces winning by a narrow margin - too narrow for his liking. Then they’d learned Hybern was headed to Winter.  The march had been brutal, transporting that many soldiers and supplies across courts was a logistical nightmare. Cassian had refused to fly ahead until the last stretch, not wanting to leave his men unguarded.  And now they had one night to camp, one night to try and rest from their northern push before they could fight once more. Rhysand’s glamor still held, so at least they’d have the element of surprise. 

Finish the chapter on AO3.

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yams-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @climbthemountain2020 @amalhe-kofee @molcat07 @sleepyy-ollie @astra-aeterna @popjunkie42

[luckyyyduckyyy]

can I see your new chapter pretty blease

S-so forward!!! And through an ask?!?! G-G-gULP... This bee means business!!!!! So scandalous...! but i'll share if it's you asking i guess, b-b-baka...

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

This is chapter 7 but your BAKA butt probably didn't even get that far yet so... throwing Chapter 1 right here so your BAKA butt doesn't need to click through the chapter index!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

:333

[ldwritesstuff]

I need you to understand, I may be a writer, but that says nothing about my memory and how well that works.

I know there's a general fandom name for the Ranboo, Purpled, Tubbo and Tommy group. But because the letters keep getting mixed up? They are just now the Printer Ink gang.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[luckyartdrawer]

Taking too dang long to finish writing chapter 4 of "Over the Deep End" so take my scraps HYAAAAA--

It's all their faults. Blame them for it taking so long to finish. I'm feral, being forced by my own whims to split the chapter because it's TOO LONGGGG--

[acourtofladydeath]

WIP Wednesday

I'm back with my yearly installation of this fic! (I'm sorry it's taking so long - I swear I'm committed to it, this one just takes a lot of time.)

Catch up on what you've missed of the series and read a snippet of book 3 below.

“This boy has a stain upon him, Eris. You are to be a god. For years I have urged companions on you. Again and again you have denied me this.” The anger in each word beat down upon Azriel like the sun's rays on the hottest summer day, burning his soul instead of his skin. “Why.” The word was a demand, for answer, not a query. There was no choice but to answer.  Eris did not shy away. Azriel heard him step forward, sandaled footsteps echoing as they moved away from him across the sand-dusted rocks.  “He is surprising. You told me to choose. I have chosen. Consider your wish fulfilled.”  “And if he ruins you?”  “I won’t let him.”  The room was silent for a moment, even the sand stopping it’s trail across the stones.  “Let your decision rest on your shoulders then, and the consequences wrought tenfold. You and your therapon will apologize to Amphidamas. I expect you to inform your mother thus.” There was a pause for a moment, the weight of the king’s words settling heavy on the boy’s shoulders. His voice was softer, a sadness Azriel could not understand lacing the tone when he added “I wash my hands of this. May the gods guide you.” 

[acourtofladydeath]

Poly+ SJM Week 2026 D5 - Royalty

My first modern AU ACOTAR fic for @polysjmweek! I wanted to highlight some of the difficulties people in relationships that don't fit the traditional binary face, and some of the ways they can be overcome.

Cassian and Azriel prepare to propose to Nesta, which forces them to face the reality of trying to marry as a polyamorous couple. They end up on a walk down memory lane trying to pick out the perfect ring.

Thank you to @jellybeanjellyfishblog for giving this a quick read and being so supportive! Read the complete fic on AO3 or find a snipped below!

The bell above the boutique jewelry store door jangled sweetly as Cassian and Azriel pushed it open. Cassian felt entirely too large to be such a small room littered with delicate displays and glass tabletops. He curved his shoulder in, trying to make his frame take up less space. Azriel instantly noticed and rolled his eyes at him.  “Come on, you’re being ridiculous.” “What if I knock something over, Az? I don’t want to break anything!” Cassian hissed in a half-whisper as Azriel pushed him further into the shop, letting the door swing shut behind them.  “Then don’t break anything, Cass!”  “But—” Az turned on him. “No buts. We’re doing this, and we’re doing it together okay?” Cassian couldn't help the smirk that lifted up the side of his lips. “I love it when you get bossy.”  “I know you do,” Az responded, the feral glint Cassian recognized all too well shining in his eye. “So be a good boy, don’t knock anything over, help me pick a ring, and we can get home to play.”  His breathing picked up, chest heaving as Cassian tried to control his response to Azriel using those words on him. “You can’t do that to me in public,” he said, moving his hand in front of his obviously tenting pants.  Az leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. “I can, and I will. You love it.”  “I do,” Cassian responded with a smile, his lips brushing Azriel’s as he spoke. 

Finish the fic here.

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yams-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @climbthemountain2020 @amalhe-kofee @molcat07 @sleepyy-ollie @astra-aeterna @popjunkie42 @tegantales

[acourtofladydeath]

Time Will Explain (If We Let It): Ch 1

Happy @acotargiftexchange release day to my dearest giftee, @wishcamper! I'm so excited to finally be sharing this fic with you!

"Time will explain." - Jane Austen, Persuasion

It has been years since Nesta came into Azriel and Cassian’s lives, and centuries since they found each other. Tensions run high, emotions stay hidden, and the Mother is exasperated. But fate has no say when choice prevails. Will they choose each other, or let their pasts define their future?

Thank you to my betas and cheerleaders who held my hand through this entire fic @climbthemountain2020, @xxvalkyriesxx, and @chelseamorninggirl. Couldn't have done this without you! You can read a snippet of the fic below, or the complete chapter on AO3.

Sunlight streamed through the billowing curtains that framed the balcony of Nesta’s room. Her face warmed beneath its rays. The gentle glow pulled her tenderly from the deep sleep she’d finally begun to find each night. Beside her was a fresh glass of cool water, courtesy of the House of Wind. It was only in the surprisingly intuitive magic house that she finally felt safe enough to let her body rest. But this peaceful deep sleep had taken all of the nearly ten years since she’d moved in to achieve.  The water touched her lips when she took a sip. It was such a small thing, being able to enjoy cooled water. These little moments reminded her how far she’d come since those freezing waters stole her human life and thrust her into this fae world. The years between the start of this new existence and the aftermath of the war that nearly cost her everything felt simultaneously like seconds and an eternity, and though it’d been almost twenty years, sometimes it still felt like yesterday. A shiver ran down her spine as she folded the blankets back, baring herself to the chill wind coming from the open doors. She loved sleeping with a breeze, the colder the better to help her sleep. Back when she’d been living in her apartment, it had been too dangerous. The first few nights she’d tried more than the wind had found its way inside. She pushed the sheets back further, along with the intrusive thoughts.  As she pulled on her tight pants and bound her breasts, Nesta remembered just how bad it had gotten, and how she’d wound up living here.  “She’s unstable!” Rhysand yelled. Nesta flinched on the other side of the dining room door where her family was having breakfast. She’d decided today was the day she’d tell Feyre just how bad things were, how much she was struggling. Nesta had wanted to save her sister the pain of it, had wanted to hide her failures, but it had gone too far. Here she was crawling with her proverbial tail between her legs to ask the person she’d been placed in charge of all those years ago for help. And instead she’d found Feyre’s husband, no, Feyre’s mate, screaming about the charges she’d placed on their card. “If you won’t do something about her, I will,” the High Lord had continued. Another voice drifted through the crack, equally angry. “She needs help, Rhys! Can’t you see she’s suffering?”  Rhys scoffed. “Suffering with thousands of dollars of booze and a fresh male or several warming her bed each night.”  “That’s enough.” Feyre’s voice shouted. Nesta took two steps back in response, hugging her arms tightly around her too-thin frame. She knew Rhys was right, and so was Cassian. It hurt that things had gotten this far, but she was so lost and so unsure… The door before her opened and Cassian stormed out. He stopped suddenly when he saw her. From his expression Nesta could tell she looked as broken as she felt. “Nes-”  A single soft syllable from his lips and Nesta almost broke. But she wouldn’t, not here anyway. Forcing her arms to relax by her sides as she rolled her shoulders back, Nesta spoke as calmly as she could. “I came to speak with my sister.” 

Continue the chapter on AO3.

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yams-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @climbthemountain2020 @amalhe-kofee @molcat07 @sleepyy-ollie

[acourtofladydeath]

WIP Wednesday: Teeth

Picture this - I'm minding my own business, dutifully writing my onoging fics when @copperfirebird drops into my DMs with this...

serial killer!Scott Hunter as a concept

And that was it. I was done for. Nothing more needed to be said, and I took no convincing. An entire concept for multiple murder husbands unraveled in my mind and there was no stopping it. Within an hour we had ideas for all four main characters and I'd created a google drive folder. What resulted was the following:

I'm so glad @copperfirebird reached out to me and has allowed me to sprint away with this idea and I can't wait to see where it ends up. Right now it's still a concept of a thing, but we've got LOTS of ideas and had to share them with you. Check our their post for a snippet of Scott's journey and be sure to give a follow for updates. Continue reading below for a look into Ilya's (and a bit of Shane's)!

CW: child abuse, no murder yet but Ilya's definitely thinking about how he's gonna do it.

Ilya loved the camp he and Shane had created as part of the Foundation. He loved working with the kids and seeing them grow and have fun. Because at this age that’s what hockey was supposed to be - fun. So when he noticed a child who wasn’t having fun, Ilya made it his mission to find out why.  Little Jimmy had been practically pushed onto the ice by his father the first day, and Ilya had instantly clocked the man. He was big, brusque, the kind of person who reminded Ilya of his father. Jimmy had stayed distant through drills, and Shane had worked with him one on one. It had been the only time Ilya had seen Jimmy smile.  By the end of the week there was no improvement. Shane and Ilya stood side by side, watching Jimmy’s father pull his son off the ice.  “We have to do something.” Shane said, his voice tight.  “Of course. But which path do we take?” Ilya knew what he wanted to do, but they’d made a pact. It was in his and Jimmy’s best interest for Ilya to let Shane guide him to his targets, and help with clean up after.  “See how his dad responds if you go talk to Jimmy now.”  And that’s how Ilya found himself in the locker room, watching Jimmy’s father carelessly tug his son’s gear off his body. The boys shirt came off with his shoulder pads, and Ilya saw them. Bruises and bites on his lower back, upper arms. Too large to be from another child, too specifically shaped to be anything but intentional and human.  Ilya didn’t talk to the man, or to the boy. But he locked eyes with Jimmy, trying to convey everything he could. I know, I see you, I’ll make it stop.  And he would. Jimmy’s father had no idea what, or who was coming for him that night. But Ilya knew he’d rip every one of that man’s teeth out of his skull before he finally killed him. 

So are you interested in this idea? Is it something you'd want to read more of? Let us know! We'll take this as far as our minds and schedules allow.