#dorian havilliard x oc

[thewulf]

Would you please write something with Dorian Havilliard? I’m begging you, there’s nothing out there 😔✊

Maybe an angst with fluff or whatever you want is ok

Thanksss!!! 💗

King Dorian Havilliard will ALWAYS have my heart. The worst part of KOA is no closure between him and Manon like give me more!!!

But yes, I absolutely can do this for my fav King. I can come up with something or if you/anyone has anything more specific in mind please let me know :)

[riseuplosers]

“We ran our hands over our pasts — lingering at the dents and worn edges of two hearts. And when I thought he would run away, he told me that I’d never have to fight another battle alone”

[green-ville]

Remnant Pt 2

            Synopsis: She was going to die. The blade was to her throat. The identical spots where her wings were freshly stolen from bled profusely. The pain was sharp, paralyzing. It didn’t help the fear that crippled her the rest of the way, stealing even the breath from her.

            Death never came.

            Roslyn woke in a foreign land, with foreign kings and queens, and foreign problems that she wound up in. She watched the downfall of a great nation, she helped save that nation with the woman named Aelin, she had a child. She had moved on. There was nothing else to do, she didn’t know how she ended up there or how to get back to what she once considered home.

            Until she wakes up, and she’s there again.

            She had moved on. Old memories resurface. Feelings that she suppressed but never got over boiled to the surface. Revenge screamed in her mind, and Roslyn went after it.

            In her pursuit, she made her gravest mistake of all.

            When Rhysand found out his sister was alive, he sent his greatest hunter after her. It was only a matter of time before they reunited, and Roslyn had buried that part of her hundreds of years ago.

            “You used to do this?” Margareet asked, disbelief and awe lacing her words.

            Roslyn laughed, the sound with the same whimsical air as bell chimes. “Only once, mother said I was too young.” That’s what she said, but Roslyn knew what she meant, and they were two different matters. “Rhys stole me away and took me here one night,” Roslyn grinned, staring down the large mountain.

            They were bundled up, Roslyn liberating a shop of the equipment just for the two of them. They’d return them before they were ever found out, but they needed the extra layers. It had been a while since she had seen snow, let alone sled in it.

            “I broke my leg,” Roslyn said, the memory warming her. “Mother was furious.”

            Margareet looked at her with wide eyes. “Am I going to break something?”

            “Dearest,” she reminded, “you’ve survived a war. And you have wings.”

            Margareet breathed out a puff, relieved. The panic shown again; “Are you going to break something?”

            “There’s always the possibility,” Roslyn agreed, fitting her feet in the slots, “but I like to think not.” She hopped forward, teetering on the edge of the slope. “Now, remember what I taught you about this.”

            “You didn’t teach me anything! You didn’t even tell me what we were doing until now!”

            “I believe in you!”

            Roslyn tipped forward, and was off. The wind hit her hard, infiltrating her hood and ruffling the fur. There was that fear, it tightened her stomach and turned her legs to jelly, but it was gone right after.

            For the first time since they were taken, Roslyn truly felt free. Irrevocably free. Could she soar through the skies on wings on her own? No, but she was flying across the mountain right now. She commanded herself, and no one else ruled her.

            Her laugh graced the night of childish delight, and with a wavering squeal, her daughter joined her, wings flapping to push her to the edge and then over. She laughed with her mother, wings catching the air and taking her off the ground in a different way than her mother.

            Roslyn slowed for her daughter, looking back, making sure she followed, and her grin burst wide. Her daughter sped ahead, and Roslyn followed suit, swerving back and forth.

            “Look at you go! You’re amazing!” Roslyn cheered, finding an incline and catching it. She bent more at her knees and soared off the end, flying through the air.

            The world turned upside down, blood rushed the wrong direction, and the landing was soft. She cut across the open snow, feeling absolutely unstoppable.

            “There’s a drop up ahead!” Margareet cried, fear hitting again.

            “Use your wings!”

            “You don’t have wings!”

            “Don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!”

            And she would be. Roslyn had heard Rhysand’s tales a thousand times. She could do this, nothing would stop her.

            The drop came up, Margareet reached it first by seconds. Her wings flared out, and she shot over the edge, a dusting of snow trailing after her.

            Anticipation crawled along her skin, the cold brutal air sucked into her lungs, and Roslyn followed, shoving away from the cliff at her last possible second. She flipped again, slower this time, not caring to rush it. Her hand grabbed the board beneath her feet, holding it close.

            This was what Rhysand always felt, no wonder he was so empowered. If she could have done this half as many times as he had, perhaps she would’ve had the strength to save her wings.

            She stopped her flipping, hands carried into the air as she planned her landing. It was going to be soft, there was enough snow to cushion her, it was only a matter of not caving under the fear and allowing herself to slice across the land.

            Margareet landed, wings softening the blow. She looked back, watching Roslyn and cheering as she landed, snow flashing as she swept back and forth, quickly reaching her again.

            “This is fantastic!” Margareet screamed over the roar of the wind as they slid back and forth, intertwining with each other, fastening their speeds down the long and steady slope.

            “It’s only the beginning!” Roslyn promised, and her heart dropped as a figure appeared directly in front of her. Too close for her to stop, her brain froze too long for her to swerve.

            He turned slowly as if questioning where he was. He saw her, eyes widening, and darkness encompassed him as if it still had a chance to save him. It didn’t. Roslyn slammed into him, hearing a faint scream of:

            “MOM!”

            Before the darkness stole her away too.

            The breath flew from her lungs as the world reformed again, and she slammed into the ground hard on her shoulder, rolling and rolling and rolling and SLAM!

            Her hood covered her eyes, and even then, she left them shut for a long moment. There was a shocking change from winter cold to castle cold, from frigid fresh air to crisp fresh. Her body went from no pain, to a world of pain.

            A door burst open, she heard groaning, and then shouting.

            “Azriel, by the maker, what the hell happened?!”

            “Az, are you alright?!”

            “Someone get Madja!”

            The quietest of them all belonged for her. “Roslyn?”

            Her head raised, stars bursting in her vision. Her head pounded, her leg throbbed, her shoulder screamed. Blood slid down her head, and she looked into the matching eyes of her brother.

            “Rhysand. . .If anyone lays a hand on her. . .I will soak your crops in blood and feed it to your livestock,” she cursed from the bottom of her heart, snarl painted on her lips as the crowd doubled in size not because of additional members, but because her vision replicated everyone.

            At least it did before everything went dark, pain overwhelming her and slipping her into a stormy sleep.

            ~

            Was her mother going to kill her for this? Yes. Hear her out; her mother would destroy a continent if it was Margareet in her place. At the very least, Margareet should be allowed to sneak into a mountain based home to get her back. She would take the argument in stride later, for now; get her mother back.

            Once her mother disappeared with that man, she followed right after, darkness swirling and sucking her in. She reappeared in the city they left behind five days prior. Through common sense, Margareet figured her mother to be in the House of Wind, the very place her mother said to steer clear from. If her mother said avoid, that had to be where they took her.

            Spotting it was difficult. There was a hefty amount of stairs leading up, and even then, she couldn’t necessarily sneak into it by going up the stairs. Not like she could climb that many stairs without wanting to fling herself from them.

            Margareet would have to fly, breaking her mother’s second rule.

            One: no matter what happens to me, you always run away.

            Two: never let anyone see you fly.

            Guilt wracked her to the point she was almost sick. Sick with fear and worry and stress. She had never been apart from her mother, and therefore she had everything to prove. That she could do this, that she could get her mother back and protect herself while doing it.

            Margareet would sneak in from above, and from the storm clouds rolling in, she was going to have to do it quick.

            -

            Margareet was not quick. The storm clouds beat her and she was drenched in seconds, hair clinging to her face, trousers and blouse weighing her down. Her wings beat harder as she fought higher, higher.

            Lightning flashed, blinding her, and thunder cracked a second later, deafening her too. She covered her ringing ears, stomach taut, back aching –

            She burst from the storm, rising above it with clouds trailing behind her. She breathed the icy air, now wet and frozen to the point. The moon shone on her again, still as bright as the last time she saw its crescent shape. The air felt thin, her head felt light. . .lighter. . .

            Her wings stopped flapping, hands reaching towards the sky as she fell. Lethargically, she blinked, reentering the storm, clouds blocking out all moonlight.

             A curse rattled in her head and she flipped, stomach to the ground, and angled herself towards the House of Wind, wings flaring their entire length and turning her fall into a glide. A sharp glide, really. She was almost directly above it, having hidden herself in the clouds to prevent herself from being seen.

            Her heart rammed in her chest, finding her landing point and willing courage into existence.

            She had fought in a war. Her Auntie had been captured too once and came back different.

            Margareet would not allow her mother the same punishment.

            Her wings angled differently and instead of angling a decline, they caught air, slowing her landing. She beat then, resisting the impact so that when her black covered feet finally touched down on the balcony, she was as silent as the dead.

            Her elevated breathing slowed, remembering the wise teachings of her Uncles. Her tiny build was an advantage. She was quick. No one expected a little girl to pounce. Be quick, act first, question later. Go for the neck. If you can’t get that, the knee or ankle. Anything to slow them down. Then run like hell.

            The wise words of her Auntie echoed inside her. Her name was Margareet, she would not be afraid.

            With the twist of the door handle, Margareet entered the house of wind. Nothing gave her away as the door closed behind her, quietening the gentle rise of the storm outside. Thunder cracked again, providing her drips and steps additional coverage. She removed her boots, electing to go barefoot for the sake of eradicating the noise it created from being wet.

            She was in a study of sorts, her mother wouldn’t be here. She swept through, searching for any aids, and found a tunic thrown across a chair. She grabbed it, drying her dripping hair, wiping her eyes, brushing it gently over her wings. She abandoned in back on the chair, and crept towards the door out, ear peaking out first to get a sound.

            Her eyes shut, listening carefully, and she picked up on indiscernible chatter.

            Naturally she headed towards it, without any real plan for what she would do when she got there.

            To her credit, she did make it down an entire flight of stairs, now in a different corridor, when she sensed the disturbance. She kept prowling like she hadn’t sensed it, trying to figure out why they hadn’t attacked her right away.

            With a burst of action she whirled, ducking down and aiming for the knee.

            The tree like figure evaded and she pursued, on a vicious offense of jabs and sweeps and arching stabs that he evaded every. Single. Time.

            “You rely too much on your hands,” he noticed, dropping down, sweeping her leg out from beneath her.

            She stumbled, would have fallen if it weren’t for her wings flapping. She snarled, feigning for a stab when instead, she swept her leg up with every intention of kicking him in the legs.

            Something dark grabbed onto her leg as he stepped back, and she was yanked up, falling onto her butt with a shrill of pain up her spine.

            “Your mother already tried that on me,” the shadow consumed figure admitted lightly, “forgive me for not allowing a reoccurrence.”

            She scrambled to a stand, giving herself space again. “Give me her back or I’ll cut out your heart and feed it to my ghost leopard.”

            “We mean her no harm – “

            She attacked, somersaulting across the ground and disappearing, reappearing right behind him. She shouted, a terrible decision on her part but she was used to doing that. No one was quiet in war.

            She shouted as she tried to stab her blade into his ankle. He jumped up high, she rolled onto her shoulders and kicked him in the rear when he came down.

            He stumbled a step, disappearing into his own darkness.

            Margareet stood and ran, knowing she was outmatched and figuring the best offense now was alerting her mother she was here.

            “MOTHER! MOTHER!”

            A dark tether gripped her ankle and pulled her down. Her wings flapped, trying to keep her up. It was one thing to fight on her feet, to be on the ground was harder.

            She was on the ground, screaming her head off.

            “I’m not going to hurt you! – “

            She flipped onto her back, no longer being dragged, spotting the shadow man again. She threw her dagger, or at least attempted to. Another shadow tendril grabbed her wrist – she tried with her other hand – grabbed too.

            Restrained, all but her right foot. That was absolutely useless.

            She thrashed and screamed again, pouring out her rage and hate. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit! I’ll feed your eyes to ravens – “

            “By the maker Azriel, let her go!”

            “She’s trying to kill me!”

            “You have her in restraints! We have her mother! Of course she’s trying to kill you!”

            Her restraints vanished and shadows consumed her, depositing her behind the newcomer. She shouted, kicking him behind the knees to bring him down to her level. He crumbled with a chortle of surprise, and she grabbed at his neck with one arm, tightening her hold with the second.

            On his knees before her, she glared to the man in the shadows.

            “I will have my mother,” she ordered softly, “Or you will have death.”

            “Your mother is sleeping. – No we did not drug her.”

            Her fangs bared, not believing a single thing that came from his mouth.

            “My dear, we are not your enemies,” the man she currently had a chokehold on addressed her softly, hands raised in surrender. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

            “You kidnapped my mother.”

            “Your mother is my sister.”

            Surprise hit her like a flash of lightning.

��           “And I thought she died over 500 years ago,” spoken in the voice of a broken man.

            Margareet pulled him back, his hands grabbing her forearm in shock, the shadow man stepping forward in warning, but she paid it no mind. She looked at his face, brows straight and judgmental, assessing for dishonesty and reason to tighten her hold.

            Instead she found violet eyes, the same as her own.

            “Prove it,” she whispered to him.

            “You’re named after our grandmother.”

            Margareet cursed, stepping away and dropping her hold on him. “Well damn, what a greeting you made. Auntie Aelin gives me sweets, Uncle Rowan gives me piggyback rides – and you kidnap my damn mother. What the hell is wrong with you?”

            “She ran away!” He guffawed. “And Azriel didn’t mean to kidnap her, he winnowed like he’s never winnowed before,” he spared a quick glare to Azriel, “and reacted poorly when Roslyn came barreling towards him.”

            “You should terminate his position and hire someone competent.” Her uncle smiled brightly, a gleam in his violet eyes.

            “I did stop you,” Azriel commented dryly.

            “I’m a 10-year-old girl. That is not impressive.”

            “But you’re a rather impressive 10-year-old girl, not many could sneak into the House of Wind without my supposedly well trained guards spotting you first.” Another glare to Azriel.

            He sighed. “I did see her, it was a choice to not stop her. The last time I put myself in front of a female going that fast, she broke her leg. And,” he stressed the word, “I wanted to see what she would do.”

            “You broke my mothers leg?” Margareet snapped, anger revived. She pulled another dagger from her person, storming forward. “I’ll cut off your dic-“

            He vanished from sight and her Uncle rose, hands out to her. “Darling Margareet, I understand your anger. Why don’t we go see Roslyn?”

            She pivoted, dagger raised, glare fixated on him. “Understand this, Rhysand, I have a large family. I have more Aunt’s and Uncle’s than I care to count, the King of Adarlan thinks I am an angel, the Queen of Terrasen would break the world if it pleased me, and the Queen of Witches would gladly kill anyone I point my finger at.” She stepped closer to him, looking up at his unnecessary height. “If for one second I deem the best interest of my mother is not in your heart, Manon Blackbeak will tear your throat out with her iron nails. Do I make myself clear?”

            He had the audacity to smile down at her. “I want nothing but the best for my sister, and for my niece. It seems you have an arsenal of allies already, but it cannot hurt to have one more.” He rested his hand on his chest, and bowed his head. “You have the High Lord of the Night Court at your back as well, darling Margareet.”

            “Then take me to my mother.”

[multiversalfandomwriter222]

REALLLLLLL

My ancestors looking down at me as I talk about how much I love white men

[pretty-warrior-queens]

Rp Request:

Throne of glass (no spoilers past the second book)

Literate (10+ lines)

I’ll be my oc http://aminoapps.com/p/kcr01s

I’d like you to be Dorian but I don’t mind if you play someone else including oc’s

[manontrashbeak]

Every booktok sees title release: HOLY SHIT ITS HAPPENING

SJM Booklrs: k great it’s 720 pages and here’s something I started writing about nessian two years ago that I just finished see y’all in January

[oohnoniall]

Queen of Serpents || Galan Ashryver x Arya Nostariel - Prologue

He stood in front of her, eyes clear for the first time in weeks. The look on his face was enough to break her.

The unbreakable woman broken by a single gaze. Her parents would be so proud.

"How could you do this?" The Crown Prince's voice was strained, his expression tight and a glimpse of silver in his eyes. "I trusted you, Arya. You betrayed me. You betrayed all of us."

"Dorian, please," her tone was soothing as though he were no more than a petulant child. "You know that isn't true. I love you, darling."

Even as she stared at him, even as his expression began to break her she knew that this was not true. She had never loved Dorian Havilliard. He had been nothing more than her mission. One that she had so clearly failed.

He would never again trust her.

She would never be allowed into his heart. 

She had failed and she could only begin to imagine the torture that her parents would put her through. Kalthanenians did not fail.

"Leave Adarlan. You're never to set foot in my kingdom again." His knuckles turned white as he made fists. She wasn't sure if it was to control himself to keep from hurting her or from showing how much she had hurt him. "If I ever see you again, I will have you killed. Leave on the first ship. I don't care what you do then."

"Dorian, you can't be serious. This is all a misunderstanding," she didn't move to step close to him. Didn't even try to show him that he was truly wrong. She knew that she had failed. She knew that he had seen through her clever disguise.

Dorian swallowed as he looked at her, blinking back his tears of frustration. "You should leave before I change my mind."

"They'll kill me if I go back." Her left hand began to tap a gentle beat on her thigh. Her eyes going from his sapphire eyes to the piles of books beside his bed. He was always reading. It had been hard enough to pry his attentions away from those damned books. He didn't read anything interesting either. Nothing about poisons or politics. Just stuffy old history and romance.

"I don't care." He said as he stared at the door behind you. "Get out."

She knew she would never be able to convince him to allow her to stay. She knew she would never have a chance to make him see things her way. 

She did not bother to bow as she strode from the room and down the tower steps.

The last image that Dorian Havilliard had of her was the long scar on her back and the red silk of her dress clinging to her creamy thighs.

[lucien-calore]

thank you for the mention ❤️❤️❤️

three ships: chaol westfall x dorian havilliard (tog), john shelby x esme shelby (peaky blinders) and marlene mckinnon x dorcas meadowes (hp)

first ever ship: chase davenport x oc (i created that oc when i was like, twelve) and wolfstar

last song: government hooker by lady gaga

last film: barbie

currently reading: i'm rereading tog, so currently tower of dawn + empire of storms tandem read

currently watching: peaky blinders and house of the dragon

currently consuming: farfalle with pesto (my favorite lunch)

currently craving: a cold shower (it's currently fucking HOT where i live)

tag list: @westfall-castle @nestaismommy @nestaapologist @biggest-gaudiest-patronuses + whoever else wants to do this

9 people you’d like to know better

Three Ships:  sean & emma (degrassi) ryan & marissa (the oc) steve & nancy (stranger things) i got a lot of ships.

First ever ship: idk i think i shipped justin x britney irl when i was like 10, no i don't really count that. i do count steve & dj from full house, harvey & sabrina from sabrina the teenage witch, & cory & topanga from boy meets world. not sure what my first ever was. I'm sure it was doug and patti mayonnaise as a kid i loved them and remember wanting them to eventually go on a date at their burger spot. semma was the first ship when i found out what shipping was, but i'd been shipping long before i knew what that was.

Last song: random christmas songs on the radio, the last one i heard was the ronette's rendition of sleigh ride.

Last film: last night i watched deck the halls with my boyfriend.

Currently reading: fanfiction tbh, but i do have books i got to get through sometime. I'm really gonna try to finish memoir the woman in me by britney spears.

Currently watching: idk this maury-esque show on tv rn on my day off, last vacay day. It is like drama and a bad kids story about how like this kid is going to learn to grow up her name is heaven.

Currently consuming: wawa sugar free salted carmel iced coffee!!

Currently craving: a fajita from plaza azteca, maybe a fresh mojito or marg and the fajita has to have it with all the fixins, and for dessert a rich mousse or a rich dense chocolate cake mm!🥰

tagged by @mollyhale 💌✨ tysm! tagging @winnie-the-monster @zayadriancas @maya-matlin @lovelyxlilis @hydesjackiespuddinpop @thatcatangelwriter @reinhartroleplays @seancameronism @lindseycool88 @sansalicents @marthaskane @btvs @charlieconwayy @userbettycooper @tomsgreg @emmanelson

[autumnshighlady]

NAVIGATION

Introduction:

Hey everyone! You can call me Amara, and this is my fic blog! I’ve been writing since I was 14 (am 22 now) but this is the first time I’ve ever posted anything! I mostly write oneshots, but may publish a few long fics here and there! I also love writing headcanons and drabbles. Primarily, my writing consists of character x reader, but I will very occasionally write character x character. I enjoy getting asks so come chat anytime! Please read the rules before requesting anything :)

MASTERLIST 

Fandoms I’ll write for:

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Throne of Glass

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Tolkien Universe

Chicago Fire

Characters I mainly write for [I will write others, these are just the main ones]:

ACOTAR

Nesta Archeron

Eris Vanserra

Azriel

Lucien Vanserra

Emerie

Gwyn

Feyre Archeron

ToG

Aelin Galathynius

Rowan Whitethorn

Manon Blackbeak

Dorian Havilliard

Gavriel

Lorcan

Elide

Lysandra

MCU

Loki Laufeyson

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Natasha Romanoff

Matt Murdock

Carol Danvers

Wanda Maximoff

Tony Stark

Thor

Valkyrie

Tolkien

Thranduil

Aragorn

Galadriel

Elrond

Maedhros

Feanor

Celegorm

Maglor 

Fingolfin

Fingon

Ecthelion

Glorfindel

Sauron

Melkor

Finrod

Chicago Fire

Stella Kidd

Kelly Severide

Characters I will NOT write for:

ACOTAR:

people like Amaranthe, Ianthe, Beron, etc.

Amren

Rhysand

ToG:

Arrobyn

MCU:

Peter Parker

Sharon and Peggy Carter

Clint Barton

Tolkien:

Maeglin

Eol

Ambarussa

Celeborn

Chicago Fire:

Sylvie Brett

Matt Casey

RULES

I will write smut, but I will not write for the following: pregnancy tropes, CNC, breeding kink, depression/SH/ED/suicide, abuse/rape/torture

please do not ask me why I will not write certain characters, I have my reasons and would not like to start drama by stating those reasons

keep your requests within the fandoms listed

there are character’s I’m more likely to write than others, if you’re unsure just ask!

do not repost, translate, or reproduce anything without asking me first

if you’re under 18, please be aware I do write NSFW - I’d rather minors not be on my blog but obviously I have no way or knowing or controlling it

if you want to give feedback keep in mind I am fragile haha, just don’t be harsh about it please!

I will not write with anyone’s oc’s but my own, which will rarely happen as I mostly do x reader

[fenrysisbae]

Heir of Dimensions: Ten, part 2

It was late before they even saw her again, a dead animal dragged behind her and she left it in front of Fenrys to clean, as it was his turn to cook that night. Gavriel looked at her before standing and gestured for her to follow. The two were silent until they came to the edge of the little pond she had washed in a few days prior. He sat and she sat right beside him. "Allana, is there anything you want to talk about?" He glanced ot her blank face before she nodded slightly. "Do you know what mates feel like?" Her knees drew to her chest. He raised an eyebrow, "I'm not entirely sure, but I know what love feels like. Why do you ask?" "Because I'm... I'm not entirely sure, but I think, just think, that Fenrys might be my mate..." Gavriel raised an eyebrow, "Well, when did you come ot this conclusion?" "When he pinned me. Gavriel, don't tell him. I don't want to just go back on my words that I said that I'm leaving. Once I find a way home, I'm definitely going back. He deserves his freedom of choice-" "Allana, it might be better to tell him. You two are destined to be together." He frowned and touched her head. Her eyes lifted to his, "Gavriel, you've heard what he's said about me. It's fine, I deserve it." The older man sighed, "It's your right to tell him, but don't keep it from him. You will tear each other apart if you just keep going on like this." "Fine," Her cheeks puffed, "but you don't get to tell him anything." "Tell who what?" Came the familiar voice of Fenrys, causing Allana to clam up. "Tell the poor sap who's my mate anything." She snapped quickly. Fenrys snorted, "You're an insane little girl." "Is dinner ready or are you here being a neglectful ass?" She snapped. "By the gods, yes. Are you on your bleed?" His voice dropped. Allana stood and turned to him with bright red cheeks, "You two go eat. I'm going to wash the blood off my skin seeing as you have no respect for boundaries, Fenrys. Gavriel, please make sure he doesn't try anything." The two males left and she stripped off the clothes before stepping into the water. Her palms brushed against the crusted blood before she heard another body entering the water. "You underestimate the hearing of Fae males, Allana." The voice brought chills to her spine and she attempted to move away before an arm stopped her in her tracks.

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Still Fighting (Part 6)

Summary: Asherah has had a hard life, but lately it’s been looking up. After being adopted by the Ytger’s Asherah is off to Rifthold. But the story doesn’t end there does it? No there’s magic, tragic backstories and secret identities. So who exactly is Asherah? Pairing: Aedion x OC Word Count: 1885 Warnings: None.

Asherah's POV

I was making my way to Celaena's room, Ress in tow. Being a 'princess' I was now being watched like a hawk at all times. The only times I'd been left alone was at night, sleeping or in the tunnels. Celaena has been released from her cell a week ago but I knew she didn't need company. It was time to lure her out though. Arriving I was surprised to see Chaol sitting by the door. He looked unkempt as if he'd just been sitting there for days.

"She's not eating," His voice was hollow. "Just sits there all day. I tried going in, she had me kicked out."

I blinked, examining his tired expression and the four healing scars down his face. I hoped they were permanent, I hoped he would have to live with it forever. Like Celaena would live with the loss, like I would when I had time to grieve.  I stepped over his outstretched legs, closing the door behind me before Ress could protest.

I gazed upon her pale form sitting before the fire. She didn't move, even as I was sure she'd heard the door opening. Celaena just stared blankly into the fire, still in her sleeping gown. She didn't seem to care who I was, not turning to so much as glance my way. Whether I was here to kill or feed her, she didn't care.

"Celaena," I placed a hand on her shoulder, looking over into the fire myself. "I came to tell you that he's dead. Grave's dead, he suffered for killing her. The King knows that Minister Mullison paid him."

She didn't ask for an explanation, putting together the facts. Grave had killed Nehemia and I'd killed him. Celaena turned to look at me, I tore my gaze from the flames staring right back. It was a few minutes before she opened her mouth, before closing it.

"I know," I knelt beside the chair, resting my head on her shoulder.

"You haven't grieved." I stiffened at her words and she noticed, leaning her head against my own.

"When it's over," I whispered. "We can grieve together."

"Did you go to the funeral?" I shook my head. No, I hadn't. That day I'd locked myself in the tunnels, wandering aimlessly hoping the horrid smell could distract me. It didn't. "We'll visit her together then. When it's over." She squeezed my hand.

"It's not over yet though," I stood up, straitening my dress, the one I'd grappled from her grip. "You have things to do still. Elena has riddles for you to solve and Archer Finn is still out there. The King is getting restless too. Say the word and I'll have it all done but..."

"I should do it for her," She finished my sentence. There was silence for a moment.

"I want you to have this," I passed her a piece of parchment. A drawing I'd done almost a month ago. Celaena throwing a stick for Fleetfoot as she talked with Nehemia, both of them smiling widely.

"Thank you," She didn't smile but I knew she was grateful. She tried to stand but I shook my head and pushed her back into her seat.

"Tomorrow," I made my way to the door, placing a palm on the doorknob. "And once everything has been done, we leave."

"Leave?" She turned in her seat.

"I've taken a place in the King's court as Eyllwe's new ambassador," I met her eyes. "Your next targets are the Royal Family of Wendlyn. I'm going with you to stage an alliance between the Ashryvers and Ytgers so we can attend the ball, that's when you're expected to kill them. So if there's something you need to do, do it soon. Today rest and tomorrow we prepare."

"You love the Ashryvers." She pointed out.

"Not the ones in Wendlyn." I paused, hand on the door handle and turned back to her, "I'll make the plan-"

"I'll break the rules-"

"You swing the sword-"

"You lift the shield." I almost caught the ghost of a smile passing over her features. Through those usually vibrant eyes.

She didn't smile though, only whispered, "Tomorrow then." Her voice slightly distracted as she retreated back into her thoughts. Good, she was thinking again. That's a step up from staring blankly, right?

I left the room, Chaol hadn't left still sitting there looking miserable as ever. I nodded to Ress, asking him to lead me to the Crown Prince's chambers. Apparently, he had no care about safety and lived in a glass tower. I left the guard with his brethren at the bottom of the stairwell, ascending to my friend's room. I'd never been here before, I didn't think many had from the look the guards gave me. It took merely introducing myself by my full title to be left alone.

I had to knock several times for the Prince to answer the door. Was he avoiding someone? Most likely me if I were being honest. My suspicions were proved true when the door opened. And almost shut on my face. Quick reflexes had me flinging my foot out and wedging the door open once more.

"Dorian," I pushed in, he ignored me going back to a book laid on his bed. Books littered the room, the couch, desk, even the floor. Piled up in corners, overflowing bookshelves. Markers and paper notes stuck from between the pristine pages.

"I don't want to talk to you," He didn't look up from the book, a volume I'd recommended in fact. "I know what you did. I was there when the gift was delivered to my father. The men in the court were terrified when he announced it was from Adarlan's Shadow. Did my father order the head or was it for fun?"

"Did he not read the note to you?" He set the book down and shook his head. I recited,

"To the tyrant king of Erilea,

I found the murderer. His name is Grave.

Minister Mullison employed him.

Keep his blood money for yourself, I don't want it.

Rot in hell. Signed, Adarlan's Shadow."

"Short and brutal," Dorian rolled his eyes. "Your point?"

"Grave killed Nehemia," I sat at the edge of his bed and sighed, letting my posture deflate. Quietly I said, "I wasn't given the same training as Celaena, I can't just do something like that and move on. I've only ever killed a handful of people. You don't need to lecture me, the blood is on my hands, I know."

"How do I know you're not lying?" He asked, voice low.

"I've never lied to you."

"We both know that's not true," He shook his head. "You trained at the Assassin's Keep, you're not a Ytger are you?"

"Not by blood, no." I admitted but quickly put in, "The Ytgers adopted me though when..."

"When what?" He narrowed his eyes when I didn't answer. "How am I supposed to trust you if you won't tell me anything?"

"Can I trust you, Dorian?" I huffed. "Don't think I haven't noticed the weird things happening around you. So don't act like you've been completely honest."

He stiffened, "What do you mean?"

"Do you or do you not have magic, Dorian Havilliard?" The air ran cold, he was scared. "Calm down, you're freezing the room. I won't tell anyone."

"How did you know?"

"You mean, when did I realise?" I chuckled. "You stopped Celaena from stabbing Chaol."

"Does she know?" He seemed to catch on.

"She suspects but she doesn't know." He sat beside me, taking one of my hands in his.

"I need you to be honest with me. How are you a Ytger, a shadow and Celaena's friend?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "None of it... None of it matches up."

"If I tell you this," I gave him a hard stare. "It'll be a secret you can never share, a burden from now until the grave. No one can ever know that I told you anything, not Chaol, not Celaena and especially not your father."

He blinked a few times, taking it all in, "You can trust me."

"Celaena and I were born and raised as children in Terrasen, under different names. Before the kingdoms fall that is." He blinked, the first sentence alone, surprising him, boy was he in for it. "When the kingdom fell to Adarlan's rule and both mine and her parents were killed, we left. Arobynn Hamel found us and trained us to be shadow and assassin for most of our lives. The training was brutal and I disagreed with many of the teachings but Celaena was younger, more susceptible. I knew she wouldn't survive on the run, so we stayed. Celaena and I were more loyal to each other then Arobynn and it threatened him. So he..."

Dorian gave my hand a squeeze, understanding my hesitance and met it with a comforting smile. I wondered how such a wonderful young man had grown under the cruel rule of his father. Like a rose growing between weeds, it had thorns but was beautiful none the less. He'd make a fine King one day, this man I trusted.

"He had me disposed of." Dorian's expression promptly dropped. "I was sent on a mission alone,  as a Shadow, I'd never been trained to take out targets alone. And that was Arobynn's point - I was caught. It was only dumb luck that nobody knew I was Adarlan's Shadow. The lord I'd targeted took me before the King - Shadow or not - and I was... I was sent to Calaculla."

"Does Celeana know?" He asked carefully. I shook my head and that was all he needed to wrap me in his arms.

"It took two years before the Ytgers attempted to free some of the rebel slaves," I mumbled into his shoulder, glassy-eyed even as I'd promised myself not to cry. "I remember the numbers; Sixty-two escaped, nine of which died within the week and twenty-three were killed during the escape - slaves and guards alike. Most who escaped had people still outside, friends and family or homes to return to. When the Queen found out about my having nowhere else to go, my surviving for so long... They took me in. I changed my name from Asherah Sardothian to Asherah Ytger. Being a princess nobody dared question my paler skin or green eyes."

"Wow," He held a hand against his forehead. "That's a lot."

"There are other things," I shook my head. "But they can wait for now."

"Why, may I ask, haven't you told Celaena about Calaculla? She spent time in Endovier, she'd understand."

I pressed my lips into a grim line. "The night before I was captured, I tried to convince her that we needed to leave. We'd leant all we could from the Assassin's Guild and with our reputations, we were gaining enemies fast - she wanted to stay. I couldn't leave without her. She'll understand what the camps were like but not... She'll hold herself accountable - for not leaving - she doesn't need that."

"Everything you do is for her," He shook his head. "You need to look after yourself too you know."

"She's all I have left." I gave him a grim, sorrowful smile.

"Not anymore."

[riseuplosers]

Aesthetic Masterlist

Welcome friends!

This is a dumping ground for all the photo, lyrics, and other things that inspired my throne of glass fic. Enjoy!

CELESTIAL AMBER AND MIDNIGHT CRYSTAL

Aesthetic (1)

MIANDIA SARDOTHIEN/ALVARA GALATHYNIUS

Mood board (1)

CELAENA SARDOTHIEN/AELIN GALATHYNIUS

Mood board (1)

[asoulofstars]

SHIPPING INFO     //     answer  the  following  for  your  muse(s)  so  people  know  how  shipping  works  on  your  blog.   REPOST.   don’t reblog.

1.   WHAT’S  YOUR  OTP  FOR  YOUR  MUSE? : Oh, boy. I really love a lot of ships, and I don’t think I could choose just ONE. Especially because Riona’s an OC, so I can ship her with legit anyone. I’m gonna go with Riona x Aidan, though, because that’s my ship for her in my original world she’s from.

2.   WHAT  ARE  YOU  WILLING  TO  RP  WHEN  IT  COMES  TO  SHIPPING? : Basically anything.

3.   HOW  LARGE  DOES  THE  AGE  GAP  HAVE  TO  BE  TO  MAKE  IT  UNCOMFORTABLE?: This would depend on how old Riona was, but I don’t ship with minor muses (doing childhood friends to lovers is one thing, as it happens over time). And it also depends on if she’s a faerie or not. But, if she’s a human, then about 7.5 years is as large as I’d go in either direction.

4.   ARE  YOU  SELECTIVE  WHEN  SHIPPING? : Nope. Just talk to me about it, because I’ll ship basically anything. Nice thing about being an OC.

5.   HOW  FAR  DO  STEAMY  MOMENTS  HAVE  TO  GO  BEFORE  THEY’RE  CONSIDERED  NS.FW? : I generally just tag things if I know it’s headed that way, because I want to keep things safe for other people on the dash.

6.   WHO  ARE  OTHER  MUSES  YOU  SHIP  YOUR  MUSE  WITH? : I have shipped with a lot of people. From the MCU: Thor, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Nathan Romanoff (genderbent Natasha), and Fandral (which is my mainverse ship). From other tv shows: Sawyer from LOST and Derek Morgan from Criminal Minds. Books: Dorian Havilliard, Cal Calore, Rhysand. And then Lucifer, but an OC version of him. Not the Supernatural dude. And then a weird platonic but also they’re attracted to each other thing with another OC, Luke.

7.   DOES  ONE  HAVE  TO  ASK  TO  SHIP  WITH  YOU? : I mean, please talk to me about it. Don’t force a ship on me.

8.   HOW  OFTEN  DO  YOU  LIKE  TO  SHIP? :

I love shipping, but I’m also all for keeping things platonic.

9.   ARE  YOU  SHIP  OBSESSED  OR  SHIP  MORE - OR - LESS? : Both. I get REALLY obsessed with ships once they’re there, but I won’t push for it.

10.   ARE  YOU  MULTISHIP? : Definitely.

11.   WHAT  IS  ( ARE )  YOUR  FAVORITE  SHIP  (S)  IN  YOUR  CURRENT  FANDOM? : Um, since my mainverse is MCU, I’ll do that: Thor/Jane, Riona/Fandral

12.   FINALLY,  HOW  DOES  ONE  SHIP  WITH  YOU? : Just communicate with me, tbh. Ask. Drop hints. Just. Lemme know if you think it could be a thing, and we can explore it.

tagged by/stolen from: @analyticallyminded tagging: Anyone who wants to!

[manontrashbeak]

As excited as I am about nessian they are my top ship in the acotar universe WHEN THE FUCK ARE WE GETTING A MOR NOVEL WITH SOME GAY SHIT ITS ABOUT TIME

[manontrashbeak]

Top Ten Female Charcters

———

rules: name your top 10 favourite female characters from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people. 

Thank you @starfallkaz for the tag 😊

I’m also going to mention which ones are wlw bc I feel like it’ll help some people!

———

Manon Blackbeak from ToG

Danika Fendyr from Crescent City

Lei from Girls of Paper and Shadow (wlw)

Mener from Witches of Ash and Ruin (wlw)

Violet Eden from the Violet Eden Chapters

Mor from ACOTAR (wlw)

Lira from To Kill a Kingdom

Lou from Serpent and Dove

Sansa Stark from GoT

Raelle from Motherland: Fort Salem (wlw)

These aren’t in any particular order!

Tagging: @rufousnmacska @propshophannah @theilliumbluebell10 @amara2804 @firedancer34 @chloe123love607 @iamthebonecarver @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie @tacmc @morgana0anagrom

[manontrashbeak]

On the Other Side: Chapter Three

Oof. Okay so it’s been a while. Sorry. Med school got crazy and then the world got crazy which means med school got worse. Anyway this is pretty much a filler chapter hopefully tho I’ll be able to pop out some more chapters soon.

——————————————————————————

Asterin Blackbeak forgot how much she hated southern Melisande. It was foggy, muggy, and overall, boring. She and her Third, Vesta, had been gallivanting across the southern countries of Erilea in search of the Crochans while the rest of her coven were given similar orders. Her Grandmother was getting impatient with the lack of blood being spilt. The Crochans seemed to have disappeared. Maybe they truly were almost extinct, or maybe they just have gotten better at hiding. Either way it’s Asterin’s fingers that are going to be shattered.

“We’ll take two reds,” Vesta said to the fruit vendor. They were in their eighth town of this rotation and were out in the market. “Goddess, when are we ever going to do something? I’m so bored of just wandering and wandering.”

Vesta handed her one apple and took a bite out of the other. They weren’t even supposed to be together. The witches usually separated to cover more ground, but when Asterin saw Vesta in a small port town, Innish, she decided she didn’t want to travel alone. She was perhaps to close to her coven sisters, but her grandmother didn’t need to know that.

“I don’t know, maybe you should go up to the Matron and ask,” Asterin answered and bit her own apple. “She wants us all over the Adarlanian border in a few weeks. Some type of meeting with a human duke.”

“So just as boring, huh?” Vesta nudged her with an elbow and Asterin laughed. “It’ll be nice to see the others. It’s been a while since we’ve all been in the same place.”

“It won’t be for long, but you’re right. I want to know if Imogen and Sorrel have fucked yet.”

“You know they haven’t. I think that’s their way of entertaining themselves.”

Asterin laughed again when suddenly a flash of red caught her eye. Her head swung around looking for the tell tale sign of a witch. Not seeing it again, she shook her head, thinking it must have been Vesta’s hair. Asterin didn’t just have centuries worth of war connecting her to the Crochans, but also a cousin. Manon Crochan was born just a year prior to her. Her mother was still angry at the thought of her sister with a Crochan, but that made Manon her closest blood cousin. She didn’t know if she wanted to kill her or not, but she did know she wanted to find her.

“Are you okay?” Vesta asked.

“Of course. Just thinking about when we should leave for Adarlan,” She looked around one more time before continuing on.

~~~~~~

Manon knew her sister and cousin were going to kill her when she got home. Leaving to confront the Ironteeth was one thing, but by herself? Stupid. So incredibly foolish. Rhiannon wouldn’t just be angry at the fact she went by herself, but because she went at all, even after Manon herself said no.

Squatting in the brush just outside the boundaries of town, she watched the two witches stroll. One was a beautiful red head who didn’t stop smiling, and the other was blonde and just as striking. The only thing in common between them was their dark eyes. She’d heard of the Blackbeak’s love for black and gold eyes. It was what made Manon so noticeable to them. That and her blood red cloak. Said cloak had already almost just gotten her caught. The blonde witch she’d seen before as she seemed to follow Manon where ever she went. She was sure the Ironteeth had some vendetta in trying to kill Manon.

Standing up, she trailed them just out of site until they went inside the tavern. Manon needed to find her way in and stay unnoticed.

She shed her cloak and stood up. That cloak was as good as a beacon to others of what she was. Walking towards the cabin, she moved to tuck her hair into a bun. If she was noticed it would because of her show white hair. She could maybe trick the Ironteeth into thinking she was an older human woman if she stayed far enough away.

~~~~~~

Asterin disliked many things, and human inns were high on the list. The smell, the people, the smell. Truly awful.

Vesta was at the bar getting them food for the night and hopefully enough to travel to the next town. They would need to leave tomorrow to make it to where ever her grandmother wanted them to meet. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a old woman strut in. Wait, strut?

Asterin whipped her head towards the door to see if she really did see an elderly just waltz in. There was no way a woman old enough to have stark white hair could move like that. She felt Vesta pull up beside her with two trays. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just thought I saw someone,” Asterin said to which Vesta shrugged and nudged her forward. The stairs were cramped and the planks were soggy, and the rooms weren’t much better.

“Who’d you think you saw?” Vesta asked after setting the food down and moving to change out of her clothes.

“I don’t know. Some hair just caught my attention.”

Leaving it there Asterin turned around and also started on her clothes. The stuck to her skin a little just because of the muggy sheen that had clawed onto her the moment she left the inn. “We should leave tomorrow or the next day to get to the meeting spot on time.”

“I can send out the letters to the others tomorrow morning,” Vesta offered as she sat on the bed and removed the dish coverings. It smelled like rabbit stew, but knowing mortals towns it probably had rats or bats or some other small gross animal. Asterin nodded in response to Vesta’s offer and sat down on the bed as well.

~~~~~

Manon listened from a few doors down just to make sure she wasn’t heard by the Ironteeth witches currently renting a room. She should leave. The Ironteeth clearly didn’t know they were living here for the moment and we’re leaving soon. If she just commanded her family and the other Crochans to stay inside, they’d be safe. Just as Manon was about to turn and leave out the back door a voice popped up by her ear.

“What are you doing?” Manon jumped at the purr that seemed to have come from no where. She swung around to find someone who she just saw this morning.

“I think you should be answering that question, Poppy,” The young witch raised an eyebrow before settling herself down by Manon. “The Ironteeth are down that hall.”

Poppy’s head whipped to look down the hall. Her blonde hair showing the dimensions between the dark and light strands her head held. Manon never understood the intense need her sister had to find a steady relationship preferring to instead find new bedmates whenever she wished. Poppy being the most recent. She saw her often. Poppy and her grandmother, Margaret, traveled with them often enough Manon was well acquainted with them both.

Although, she never expected Poppy to come up to her last night and just kiss her. Not that she was complaining. She was beautiful, gifted, and well liked among her fellow witches. It was impossible not to like Poppy.

“So what do we do?” Poppy asked knocking Manon out of her stare. She was staring for Darkness’s sake. The blonde was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her command.

“Leave and tell you grandmother to stay inside for a few days,” Manon said and stood up, Poppy with her. A few seconds later, the door they had been watching opened. Footsteps moved down the hall lazily which gave Manon enough time to pull Poppy against her and press her lips down. Poppy, rigid with surprise, relaxed against her instantly. Moving slowly Manon let her self explore Poppy’s mouth while also angling herself sideways to fully hide both their faces.

“Excuse me,” Said a smooth voice that passed by them. Manon pulled back and glanced over her shoulder. The ends of deep red hair had just turned the corner when she heard a small laugh. She looked back to the witch in her arms and smiled.

“Come on.”

Tags: @chloe123love607 @rufousnmacska