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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

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Slow Hands

Azriel x Vanserra Oc

Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.

Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.

Word count- 2,639

Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.

Part Two

Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.

The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"

Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."

Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.

"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.

Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"

"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.

All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."

He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."

Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.

Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?

You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.

She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.

He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.

"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.

Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"

"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.

Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.

"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.

Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.

She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."

Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."

"I can sto-"

"Please, do not stop."

Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.

"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"

Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.

Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.

Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."

"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.

"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.

Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"

"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."

His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.

Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.

Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.

Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.

"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.

Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.

Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.

He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.

She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.

A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.

"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.

She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.

He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.

She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.

It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.

Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.

She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.

"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."

Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.

"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."

He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.

"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."

Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."

Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar

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anatomicalrants · 8 months ago

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A/N: Quick drabble I wrote while listening to Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain.

Summary: After spending several days in the Night Court, Cadre!Reader has a nightmare triggered by their unfamiliar surroundings.

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Warnings: PTSD, trauma induced nightmares, mentions of dying, mental torture, dissociation, angst, fear of the dark

Nightmare:

You thought it was real.

That the fire breathing bitch queen had saved you, that she had been real. It was nothing but something Maeve planted to tease you and then break you further.

You knew it.

The dream made freedom taste so real, the grass under your feet felt softer, the air was deliciously cold and fresh against your face. It smelled like snow.

But it was never real.

There is no fireheart. Maeve long since turned her to ash.

As you knelt once more before the dark queen's throne, your back aching with how long you had bowed. Utterly at her mercy. You knew Rowan was next to you, Fenrys on your right.

You knew they had the same delusions you were given. Fenrys was sobbing, he had always hated his oath and to be given a taste of freedom only to have it ripped away? And Rowan, how cruel to have to learn his true mate was not Lyria through a dream. But the savior? She died during the fall of Terrasen.

There is no escaping.

Your hands began trembling and the world started to crack and twist. Whips of darkness began cracking across your vision, and your friends began screaming.

There is no escaping.

Rowan Whitethorn was begging for his mate. His fireheart. The floor roiled underneath you and yet you could only kneel.

As Fenrys began to scream beside you, you forced your head up. Fighting against that unholy darkness that Maeve tortured you with for centuries.

Your last defiance was to look her in the eye, before the blood oath took everything from you.

But as you forced your eyes up and you caught a glimpse of violet eyes, everything shattered.

There was darkness all around you as you launched yourself from your bed, pulling your dagger with you from under your pillow.

You couldn't see.

Your magic thrashed in your veins. There were hands on your shoulders suddenly and a male's voice sounded nearby. The darkness cleared and you saw him, your fated.

Azriel.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn't place, but you didn't want to.

"Are you okay?" He sounded like he was underwater, and you weren't quite sure you weren't still dreaming until his scarred hands squeezed you.

You knew you were awake when you saw the other male out of the corner of your eye, Rhysand. Instincts told you to straighten your shoulders and make eye contact with the high lord- his eyes.

You couldn't do it.

He was trying to speak to you, but if Azriel sounded underwater, Rhysand might as well have been in another room entirely.

So you put your hands on your mates chest and pushed him away from you. Azriel hesitated, instincts likely bellowing at him to hold, to protect, to soothe.

You were beyond words.

Saying anything to either of them was too hard to even comprehend, dredging up the energy to pretend you were fine. The energy to pull yourself together and once again submit yourself to someone stronger than you made you want to bellow.

Blood curdling wrath hit you and your magic roared in answer, heating your wrecked soul. Not wrath directed at the males before you who were trying to speak to you.

You couldn't hear them anyway. You couldn't feel Azriel's hands back on your shoulders, shaking you before abruptly dropping you. You didn't register the pain in his eyes when he did either, or the magic that had erupted from you and cocooned around you.

You didn't notice that the dagger you had grabbed to desperately attempt to defend yourself from old ghosts fell from your hand and clattered to the ground.

You stared straight ahead and felt nothing at all. Until you felt Rhysand break through your mental shields.

Your very soul seemed to cave in when they fell. Rhysand felt it too, you knew. As he immediately began to pull back, knowing he pushed far too hard when your mind was this vulnerable. But as your memories and your pain swarmed to the surface? He saw it.

And Rhysand finally understood why you couldn't hold his eyes.

He saw it himself.

#azriel x cadre!reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar x reader #tog x reader #queen maeve #throne of glass #a court of thorns and roses #cadre!reader #fanfic #drabble #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #fenrys moonbeam #fireheart

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acourtofthought · 5 months ago

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I'm sorry but "you're my mate" does not outweigh Elain's feelings on the matter.

The simple existence of a mating bond does not suddenly declare all Elriel moments null. It does not make them platonic just because Elain is Lucien's mate.

If the mating bond really were the end all be all -> we wouldn't have ANY existence of a pairing where the bond was wrong.

If the mating bond was the end all be all -> there would be NO Elriel moments for us to even be discussing.

After finding out that Cassian & Rhys were their mates, Feyre and Nesta did not entertain the idea of other men.

Elucien is the only instance in SJMverse where the bond snapped before Elain & Lucien even knew each other. And despite knowing her mate is right there - Elain chooses to pursue someone else.

Oh - aside from Rowan & Lyria ... but we all know how THAT turned out

"after finding out that Cassian & Rhys were their mates, Feyre and Nesta did not entertain the idea of other men"

Nesta on the moment she met Cassian:

Nesta displaying her feelings for Cassian during the war:

Nesta months later:

Feyre while UTM:

Feyre a few months later with Tamlin:

Just because the sisters bonds didn't immediately snap doesn't mean they didn't realize deep down that Cassian and Rhys were something to them.

Yet despite the tug to them, despite Nesta even being willing to die with Cassian, both sisters went on to fuck others. Hell, Nesta even imagined Cassian's best friend fucking her!

You should be glad Sarah included Elain having a bit of a hot girl summer moment because it's proves choosing Lucien is still a choice, it didn't turn her into a mindless robot who can only be attracted to one guy.

You know what Sarah has never written though?

An endgame couple where the MMC sits and stares at another female with heat in his eyes while his supposed love interest is in the room with them.

Feyre and Nesta absolutely were attracted to other men even after confessing they were drawn to their mates from the start though I don't recall the same for Cassian or Rhys when it came to other females.

Sarah has written scenarios of poorly matched bonds in characters we've never met. But you can bet we're not going to see Elain reject Lucien Mother Fucking Vanserra, future High Lord of Sunshine for Azriel the Torturer.

Also, Elain doesn't have feelings because she doesn't actually exist. So pardon but I'm pretty sure Sarah J Maas, multi millionaire Fated Mates author is going to write Elain wanting her mate because..... Mates. And it's Lucien. Who was inspired by Jamie Fraser. Who Sarah loves.

I promise you, Elain's feelings on the matter don't matter more than the story Sarah wants to tell especially when Sarah already told us Elain took both she and Lucien by surprise and when she's the one who retconned Lucien's father so he'd be the heir to Day, not Autumn, and proceeded to hammer home how much Elain likes sunshine.

Better luck next time! 😉

#anti e/riel #elain archeron #nesta archeron #feyre acheron #elucien #pro lucien vanserra #Imagine telling a Fated Mates author that mates don't matter 😂

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meefy · 6 months ago

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Diverse Autistic Characters in Akagami no Shirayukihime

I could go on for hours about my dislike of how autism is, for the most part, portrayed in popular media - the butt of a cruel joke; autism representation by a non-Autistic actor; or centered around the plot of the story itself, where it boils down to the Autistic person "overcoming" their autism or some outside force "fixing" it (or, semi related, an Autistic character being shoehorned in as a token minority).

I think that's one of the reason I love Akagami no Shirayukihime so much. While none of the characters are confirmed as Autistic, the ones that are quite blatantly Autistic-coded are so diverse and so welcomed by the cast that it's both sweet and refreshing to see.

I have talked at length about Ryuu and why I love his character so much, so I don't want to get into it too much here because I've said most of what I want to say. He is, at first glance, the "typical" popular culture depiction of autism: the male child savant who has no friends, can't socialize, and has the niche restricted interests in science that seem to characterize every big Autistic character in media. But it doesn't take long to see he is so much more than that! His interests in poisons has granted him a field of study and work where he thrives and does what he loves day in and day out. His mentor, Garak, supports him and treats him as an equal, and looks for opportunities for him to grow - as does everyone around him, including Shirayuki.

Ryuu's time in Lilias was so beautifully depicted. The years he spends studying and working there are not him masking his Autistic traits or "beating" them; they are years of him feeling safe and supported enough to test his comfort levels and branch out because he knows he won't be mocked or scorned for it. He has found an environment where he thrives because of his Autistic traits, not in spite of them. And so, as of most recently, we see that he wants to remain in Lilias to continue his studies there because of this. His growth is not reduced to finally acting neurotypical; Ryuu being Autistic has not changed. But he has found others who share his passions, who support him, and who encourage him without changing who he is.

I also want to touch on Kirito specifically, because he is one of the few people Ryuu's own age who interacts with him. Kirito is too young to hold back his questions about Ryuu's behaviour. Why is he running away from a crowd of people? Why has he never had a snowball fight? But Kirito doesn't dwell on Ryuu's quirks; he accepts them, moves on, and focuses on what the two have in common - which is what I would hope for any Autistic person, myself included.

What is particularly special to me about how Autistic characters are depicted in AnS is the diversity. Too often I see Autistic characters depicted in the same way, like the author read a WebMD checklist and created a character around said list. Autism is a spectrum, and with that comes two ends of the spectrum.

Which brings me to Lata.

Although I haven't explicitly mentioned at length Lata + autism the same way I've discussed it about Ryuu (and although I could write a whole essay on it), I do want to go in a bit more depth because his overlap and contrast with Ryuu is exactly the kind of Autistic representation I live for. Ryuu actively wants to work to help people; Lata seeks to work in solitude. Ryuu is open and generally friendly with others, Lata is blunt and evasive. Ryuu's expressions are generally flat (and his voice monotone in the anime); Lata is quite expressive (even if he doesn't smile often, and neither does Ryuu). Yet we see certain similarities between the two; for instance, both have their own niche hyperfixations that they absolutely live for, and neither is totally at ease in crowds.

But leaving Ryuu out of the equation, one of my favourite things about Lata's character is that none of the Lyrias crew seemed genuinely bothered by how he acts. Like, even Obi's teasing is, by and large, in good faith. They're just like "Oh, that’s just how Lata is..." and move past it. Most recently in Chapter 133, Shirayuki is visibly happy to see him. And related to that, the other scholars always go out of their way to include and invite him to their outings - to their banquet celebrating the successful germination of the phostyrias, or to see them blooming in their lab. Even if he always declines, and they probably know he will always decline, they ask. Speaking on a personal note, I am like Lata and really, really hate parties or any large gathering; so people (understandably) stopped inviting me. And that hurt; even if I knew I'd say no, and wouldn't go, people actually thinking of me meant a lot more than they likely realized.

So, seeing representation of people actively trying to invite and include their Autistic comrade means so much to me.

Lastly, I want to talk about Shirayuki. It's not terribly often that Autistic representation in media is a female character, let alone the lead character. I know I am not alone in thinking Shirayuki is Autistic, but I do love its subtlety unless you know what to look for. The long running theory that there is a "girl" autism (versus the stereotypical "male" autism that is most commonly diagnosed and seen in popular culture) is absurd; autism is a spectrum, and just where some Autistics are reclusive, have a flat affect, and exhibit quirky behaviours and interests, there are plenty that are the complete opposite, or somewhere else along the spectrum. In many respects, this describes Shirayuki; she seems to have no trouble making friends, attending parties, or showing emotion.

And yet, she has the intense focus in herbalism and pharmacology that mirrors Ryuu's in many respects; she just does not express that interest in the same, "typical" Autistic way. She reads her textbooks to relax and spends time in a garden (the latter of which is, stereotypically, a perfectly expected behaviour for someone of her gender). It's easy to forget that, much like how Ryuu ran away from the crowd on his first day in Lyrias (a depiction of an Autistic shutdown), Shirayuki ran away from Zen when her feelings for him became too overwhelming. She asks Zen for a comfort object of his when she leaves for Tanbarun, much like how many Autistic people have a particular tangible object that gives them comfort. Shirayuki is also blunt; she tells Prince Raji to act more like a leader she can be proud of, and rebuffs the knight who insults Ryuu at the beginning of the story - her low rank does not deter her. Autistic people are sometimes known for apparently "not understanding" power dynamics and rules (which I doubt, as do most Autistic people - I think it's more likely that the rules and dynamics are simply unfair, and created and upheld by neurotypical people) - Shirayuki's behaviour certainly seems to fit this. She is not rude by any means...but where it might intimidate many others, a person's title does not keep her from speaking her mind. In many respects she reminds me of myself!

I could go on and on about this topic - and how different Autistic traits are present in different characters - but I'm comfortable stopping at Ryuu, Lata, and Shirayuki (at least for now), and reiterating that media like AnS proves that diverse Autistic characters can exist without being a punchline, can grow throughout the story without shedding their Autistic traits, and can be accepted, supported, and loved by others for who they are. This series is dear to my heart, and this is but one (albeit huge) reason why!

#meefymeta #akagami no shirayukihime #ans #snow white with the red hair #swwtrh #shirayuki #lata forzeno #ryuu akagami no shirayukihime #actually autistic

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shyvioletcat · 2 months ago

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Happy Holidays @mariaofdoranelle ! Sorry this is on the late side, I over extended myself and work was cruelly hectic and I’m currently on a cruise and miscalculated my days that I’d have reception. That being so, I can promise you that this will be a three part series, parts 2 and 3 coming to you in the early new year. Enjoy!

~~~~~

Rowan sat at the very end of the wooden slat bleachers that overlooked the polished dance floor. His daughter was out there with her brown hair in a doughnut shaped bun on top of her head, wearing a pink leotard and a floaty wrap skirt. Ivy was the ideal picture of a ballerina in training, her wide green eyes wide and attentive, taking in everything her teacher was saying. Arms poised, knees bent, she was ready to mimic the steps as best as her 4 year old coordination would allow.

Although Rowan couldn’t hear what was being said, he had a hard time keeping his eyes off the teacher too. Miss Aelin, as the students referred to her, was dressed similarly to the group of girls lined up in front of the mirror, except her outfit was black and she wore her long golden hair in a high ponytail. She was a stunning woman, graceful and elegant as she helped her students rehearse for the end of year concert. There was genuine kindness shining through as she encouraged each one of them, it’s what made her such a good teacher. But that wasn’t what had him under her spell.

When Rowan walked into this dance studio nearly a year ago he had never expected to see his college flame ready to teach his daughter. Flame was a mild way of putting it. Aelin had come into Rowan’s life like a wildfire, merciless in the way she so easily consumed him entirely. They had been perfect for each other, compatible in the best kinds of ways. But in the end, their lives had taken them on different paths and they regrettably had to be mature adults and call their relationship to an end. That had been the most painful experience of Rowan’s life. Aelin had been the one that got away, and turned out he had been hers too. Life had taken them in such different directions and Rowan thought he’d be lucky to see her again. So when he saw her welcoming the students into the dance hall it had stopped him in his tracks, struck dumb like he had seen a ghost. Aelin had gone as pale as one, eyes darting between him and the little girl that held his hand.

Rowan had watched for a long moment as Aelin’s brain tried to piece the puzzle together, feeling too stunned to say anything himself. When the ability to speak returned the first thing he blurted out was “I’m divorced”. Aelin flushed pink but then laughed, a sound that had Rowan’s chest aching with how much he had missed that sound. Aelin had given him a wink and a quiet “thanks for letting me know” and then introduced herself to Ivy and went back to the rest of her students. After that first lesson Rowan had stayed after his ex-wife took Ivy home and the stories came out.

Once Rowan had left college in Terrasen he came back to Doranelle for work, then met Lyria not long after. They dated for a while, thought the next step was to get married and start a family. Turns out it wasn’t, they just weren’t working no matter how hard they tried. Parting on amicable terms they now coparented and made much better friends than spouses. Aelin had been on a whirlwind adventure travelling the world. She had eventually started working for her parents, but ended up feeling lost. So on a whim she booked a plane ticket for Doranelle and found a job working for the dance studio.

They hadn’t seen each other for six years and had lived such different and separate lives. But somehow within a few months they fell back into place so easily. Rowan had asked Aelin out on a date, taking it slow so they could get to know each other again, then within no time, that familiar wildfire was burning making the years scatter like ashes on the wind.

The only hiccup was Ivy, and not in an outright bad way. It wasn’t a great look for the dance teacher to be dating one of the dads and Ivy loved to dance so much they didn’t want to jeopardise that in any way. So Lyria knew, but Ivy didn’t, they would be telling her after the end of year Yulemas concert and Aelin was even considering quitting. Rowan didn’t want that, but they would work it all out in the new year.

“And one, two, and three.” Aelin's voice echoing in the dance space brought Rowan back to the present. The students spun a bit haphazardly, but Aelin didn’t scold them for their poor form, she just smiled and said, “like this.”

With the epitome of grace, Aelin spun, her golden hair swaying. Too easily Rowan could imagine his fingers entwined with those silky strands, fingers tangled as he—

Rowan stopped himself from taking that thought any further. This was not the time or place for such… imaginings. But watching Aelin’s hair sway on her exposed back, it was difficult not to.

“You’re drooling,” Lyria said from beside him, making Rowan jump. He had been watching Aelin so intently he hadn’t noticed anything else.

“Am not,” Rowan replied.

“Not literally, but figuratively? Absolutely,” Lyria teased as she stepped up into the bleachers to sit next to Rowan.

Rowan chuckled. Teasing them was one of Lyria’s favourite things to do, both he and Aelin had been hilarious victims of Lyria’s wit. “I’ll try and stop.”

That made Lyria snort. “Good luck with that. You’re smitten.”

He was. Completely and utterly.

“You’re free to go now,” Lyria said. The arrangement was that Rowan dropped Ivy off for dance and then Lyria picked her up. Usually he would leave, but tonight he was considering hanging around. With the busyness of rehearsals and preparing for the concert, he hadn’t seen Aelin much the past two weeks. And he missed her.

“Think I’ll hang around.”

Lyria didn’t say anything. She just gave Rowan a knowing look and a nudge on his knee with her’s. About 15 minutes later the class ended, and a chorus of voices sang out “thank you, Miss Aelin”. Before getting her bag, Ivy ran up to Aelin, hugging her around the hips before running away. Rowan saw Aelin’s expression soften and the affectionate gesture and the tinge of longing as she watched the girl move away. They both desperately wanted Ivy to know, and they only had to hold out a little longer.

“Da! Did you see me?” Ivy asked as she clambered up the benches to where her parents were sitting.

“Of course I did, little love,” Rowan replied. “You’re doing so well.”

Ivy beamed at him, making Rowan’s chest fill with a warm fuzzy feeling. His daughter was truly the light of his life.

“Come on, Ives, Da is busy,” Lyria said, taking Ivy’s duffle bag.

“He’s just sitting there,” Ivy pointed out.

“Not for long,” Lyria countered. “Say goodbye and he’ll see you Monday.”

Ivy launched herself into Rowan’s arms, squeezing him tight while saying goodbye. Rowan kissed her head and said his own goodbye, offering his daughter a wave back as she frantically waved at him until the last second. He turned his attention back to the dance floor, expecting to see Aelin either packing up or waiting for him, but the space was empty except for him. She must not have seen him unexpectedly staying behind. Knowing he didn’t have long before Aelin locked up, Rowan headed for her office. It was down a short hallway off the main dance space, and sure enough, he found her there leaning over to read some papers on her desk.

Rowan took a moment to admire the sight before him, the angle of Aelin’s body accentuating her long legs and dip of her waist. Her hair had fallen to the side, allowing him to admire her exposed back. Before he once again got too lost in his thoughts, he knocked on the open door, making Aelin startle.

“Rowan,” she almost gasped once she turned to see who had knocked. “What are you doing here? I was coming over later.”

Rowan strode into the room. “I missed you too much.”

Smirking up at him, Aelin said, “I tend to have that effect on people.”

Unable to wait any longer Rowan cupped Aelin’s cheeks and kissed her. Immediately Aelin melted into him, bringing her body flush with his. He couldn’t help himself, his hands roamed, feeling the warmth of Aelin’s skin through her thin leotard. When his thumbs skimmed the sides of her breasts and she whimpered into his mouth, Rowan’s tether snapped.

Nudging the chair out of the way with his foot, Rowan backed them up until Aelin’s thighs hit the desk. She didn’t need any encouragement to sit atop it, her knees widening so he could stand between them.

“I missed you, too,” Aelin murmured between kisses. “So much.”

Rowan’s response was to press their bodies closer, in a way that had Aelin moaning. His cock was hard, missing the memo that they were still in the dance studio.

“We should stop,” the rational part of Rowan’s brain voiced, even as the irrational part had him kissing Aelin harder.

It seemed rationality was becoming scarce because all Aelin did was bring him closer with her legs, grinding up the length of him. “Don’t stop. I need you.”

That request was more than enough for him. Rowan’s hands dragged down the front of Aelin’s body. It was too easy to pull down the thin leotard Aelin wore, exposing her breasts. Rowan took the weight of them in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the stiffening peaks. Aelin hissed through her teeth at the touch but when Rowan drew back to see if she was all right Aelin pulled him down by the collar of his button up.

“Just sensitive, don’t stop,” she breathed and then kissed him again.

Rowan wasn’t about to protest, and as Aelin got to work on his shirt his hands travelled down her body instead, fingers tracing the seam around her the top of her thighs. Then he slipped one finger beneath, then two, and held back his own moan when he felt the evidence of how ready she was for him.

“Fuck,” Rowan muttered, knuckles running along the seam of her stockings. “Aelin, I don’t know if I can wait.”

“I already told you not to stop.” Aelin emphasised her point by undoing his belt buckle and then the button on his pants. “So don’t.”

Before Aelin could distract him by getting her hands on him, Rowan hooked two fingers into the flimsy mesh of her stockings beneath her leotard and tugged. Hard. Just like he hoped the fabric tore and to finish the job he tucked the leotard to the side. Rowan ran his thumb through Aelin’s folds, circling her clit. Throwing her head back, she moaned as her hips rolled with the rhythm he was setting. Then she reached for his cock and pulled it out without hesitation.

“No playing, I need you now,” Aelin urged.

With a kiss Rowan pulled Aelin to the edge of the desk and then lined him up with her entrance. He pushed the tip in, he always loved the first few moments of coming together. But Aelin was obviously feeling impatient, and Rowan wasn’t doing much better, so with a steadying hand on her hip he slid in all the way.

“Oh gods,” Aelin panted, the hand in his hair tightening. “You feel so fucking good.”

Rowan rolled his hips, pressing himself that fraction deeper, Aelin’s whimper of pleasure had his cock twitching. With her teeth sunk into her bottom lip she moaned as Rowan began to thrust in and out. He wanted to pull that lip free, to let all the delicious noises Aelin made come out unhindered, but he still had enough awareness to realise they were in public. Even though he was sure they were entirely alone, he also didn’t want to risk drawing attention to their location. Later he’d have her splayed out in his bed and she could scream as loud as she wanted.

Aelin clung to him as Rowan set a steady rhythm. Wanting access to her neck, his hands slid up her back, stopping when his fingers were tangled in Aelin’s hair. He tugged, Aelin’s head falling back with that encouragement, then he was pressing open mouthed kisses up the length of her neck. Needing more, Aelin worked her hands between them, shuddering as her fingers brushed her clit.

“Good girl, giving yourself what you need,” Rowan praised.

That had Aelin trembling right before her muscles locked. “Rowan, I’m gonna—“

Her moan was low, rumbling from deep in her throat, Rowan felt it with his lips pressed to Aelin’s skin. All the pressure in her body snapped, her hips undulating as she rode his cock, drawing out the waves of her orgasm. Feeling Aelin’s body respond to the pleasure he was giving and she was taking had Rowan’s own climax breaking, thrusting hard as he spilled into her.

They shared sweet kisses once their bodies had stilled, stopping once their smiles made it impossible for their lips to touch.

“Can I take you home?” Rowan asked once they tidied up and were presentable. At least the best they could be. The hole Rowan had tore in Aelin’s stocking gaped at the very top of her thigh, with her still perched on the desk it was hard not to look at it and admire his handiwork.

Aelin noticed when his gaze had locked, a delicious shade of pink flushing her cheeks. To save the both of them from making another questionable choice, she hopped off the desk and let her skirt fall around her thighs.

With a hand on his chest Aelin rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to Rowan’s cheek. “I couldn’t think of anything I want more.”

~~~~~

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throneofsapphics · 1 year ago

Text

have your little girlfriend, part five

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods only know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now.

Word Count: ~6.5k

Warnings: darkish aelin/rowan, possessiveness, toxic relationships, minors injuries/mentions of blood, smut, thigh riding, nsfw, minors dni!

A/N: honestly idk where this is going, i’m just writing on vibes, but reader still has a backbone. this got deleted somehow :(, special thank you to @moonlightttfae

series masterlist

“I’ll be with Fenrys,” she said. It was another iteration of the same conversation they’d had the last three days. Her bringing up visiting home, Aelin and Rowan not disagreeing or agreeing, but questioning the safety of it. Technically, she supposed she didn’t need their permission, but it would be much easier if she could convince them to agree. Would they drag her back to Orynth if she left on her own? She didn’t want to find out. Her eyes shuttered closed. She wouldn’t give up on this, she needed to see her family. Needed to get some space. Fenrys had offered to speak to them, but she wanted to handle this on her own. To fight her own battles.

She had an idea. One she would surely regret. “What if …” she swallowed harshly, “I agreed to train with you,” she directed her gaze towards Rowan first, and then Aelin.

“Without complaining?” Rowan leaned back, crossing his arms.

“I’ve never complained,” he raised one brow at her. Maybe she had, once or twice. “It’s not my fault you’re …” she tried to find a nicer word to say.

“Ah asshole?” Aelin offered. “Dickhead? Bastard?” Rowan cut a glare at her, but she only grinned.

“Harsh,” you settled on.

“I promise I'll be …” Rowan’s the one who couldn’t find a word this time. She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. “Considerate.”

Aelin chuckled. “How kind of you, your Highness.”

She straightened in her chair. “I’ll train with you,” she tapped her fingers on the table. “Three times.”

“Seven,” he countered. She started low on purpose.

“Five.”

“Ten.”

Gods-damned in. Aelin only looked on amusement. Ten times. She had to leave in twenty days. Between work, spending time with them, and her friends, she didn’t quite have time to train everyday. Well, not in the way Rowan likes to train - grueling sessions, at least three hours.

“Seven.” She countered, he looked like he was going to raise it further, but Aelin fixed him with a look.

“Fine,” he grunted.

The weeks leading up to the visit, she spent so much time in her animal form it began to worry Rowan. He remembered the ten years he spent in his … after Lyria’s death. Maybe she was still healing - from everything she’d lost during those ten years. Her parents, several of her family members. He glanced down at the white fox, curled up next to his desk, snoring softly. She looked peaceful, and at ease.

She was leaving in three days and something in his chest clenched at how far away she’d be, at how he wouldn’t be there if anything happened. Or how difficult it would be to get to her. Aelin had threatened Fenrys so thoroughly he didn’t need to do it. As much as the male could annoy him sometimes, he trusted him with his life, and more importantly with hers. If anything happened to her, he’d make him regret being born.

He called her name softly, and her head raised, pretty eyes blinking away the haze of sleep. “Shift back,” to his surprise, she actually listened - and didn’t look too upset at his order.

“You interrupted a perfectly good nap,” her fists rubbed at her eyes, lips turning into something between a frown and a pout.

His mouth turned up at the corners, and he held out a hand. “I missed you.”

Her eyes softened, and she took it, letting him tug her into his lap. She nestled her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, he had one arm wrapped around her, the other still shuffling through reports he had to get through by the end of the night. A few more days, and everything should calm down for the holidays. But by then … she’d be gone.

He opened his mouth to say something, but her breaths had evened out, body relaxing into him, and he was reluctant to interrupt her sleep. Again. Rowan pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

The door swung open, and from the corner of his eye he saw Aelin striding in - looking both irritated and exhausted. She paused, tilting her head to look at the two of them, before a small smile creeped onto her face. Aelin had certainly come a long way, managing to curb most of her jealousy surrounding y/n, at least with him.

“I’m stealing her,” her eyes said. He narrowed his. “You’ve had her for the last few hours.”

“She just shifted back.”

“And?” Aelin shot him an irritating grin, making her way to their side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She perched up on his desk, shoving some of his papers out of the way.

Y/n stirred in his lap, lifted her head up. She beamed as she saw Aelin. Looks like Aelin wouldn’t have to steal her anyway. Aelin leaned forward, balancing precariously, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, before sliding off the table.

She cupped one hand around her cheek, tilting y/n’s head to deepen the kiss, the other female moved, brushing against him. His teeth tug into his bottom lip as he bit back a groan, hardening beneath her. The little devil noticed, because she moved again, more intentionally. His hands gripped her hips, holding her firmly in place, she was straddling his leg now, back arching as Aelin kept pulling her closer. Fuck.

He kissed down the side of her neck, scraping his canines over her pulse point. Rowan kissed over the two small scars on her neck. His mark. Where he’d claimed her. How everyone would know exactly who she belonged to.

Her arousal started dripping on to him, her hips wiggling to try and get some release, some friction. He dug his fingers into her hips in warning, and she stopped. Aelin let out an edged chuckle. She was always amused by how easily y/n listened to him. Well, how she listened when she wanted to.

“Please,” her voice was breathy, and he knew she was asking him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back to meld her body against his. Aelin leaned back against the desk, hands gripping at the wood - lips swollen.

“Let her.” Aelin shot him a look. She was always soft when it came to her.

“Go on,” he told her, and pushed gently between her shoulder blades, landing a gentle swat on her thigh. “If you want it that badly, take it.”

Her head twisted over her shoulder, tilting her head at him.

“Ride his thigh, petal,” Aelin said.

He groaned in mock frustration, before gripping her hips again, helping her to start moving.

“Don’t be mean,” Aelin tutted at him. Rowan ignored her, focusing on y/n, currently growing bolder with her movements, rocking her hips back and forth over them, soft moans and whimpers leaving her throat. Aelin’s fingers white knuckled against the wood, fighting the urge to step in, but flames danced in her eyes, lust glazing over as she watched, scenting the same arousal he did. Three different scents mixing through the room, flooding it. It was strong enough that anyone would know better than to knock. If they wanted their head still attached to their shoulders.

As much as he liked to tease Aelin, he was equally territorial over her. If anyone else even glimpsed her like this, he’d rip their gods-damned eyes out.

“I’m close,” she panted, “please please please,”

“Go on,” Aelin said before he could answer, winking at him. His eyes rolled, but he tightened his grip on her hips, helping her move faster, harsher.

Her thighs clenched around him, body stiffening, and Aelin leaned forward to swallow her moans, letting her ride out her pleasure. As soon as she started to come down, started to relax - muscles loosening, Aelin swiftly gripped under her thighs, pulling her up into her arms. Y/n laughed as her legs wrapped around her waist, arms draping over her shoulders.

“You’re invited,” Aelin said over her shoulder as she headed for their bedroom, a sheet of golden hair swishing behind her. Hair he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers into. The other female buried a laugh, tucking her head into her neck. He scowled. Aelin’s well aware he still has work to finish. A wink, and she disappeared, kicking the door shut behind her.

The next three days passed quickly, and a few tears slipped down her face as she left, but she managed to wipe them away before Aelin or Rowan could see. She would miss them, absolutely, but she was incredibly excited for the trip. For the chance to get to see everyone again - and to visit her home. Well, Orynth was her home, but so was out there. In the mountains, far beyond any of the hustle and bustle of the cities.

Fenrys shifted first, and she followed - taking off at a steady trot. They traveled in peaceful silence, listening to the various bird calls, water from the streams splashing on stone, pattering of paws against snow.

Freedom, that’s what this felt like. Majority of their journey was spent in their animal forms - the easiest way to stave off the cold. They hadn’t brought much food with them, knowing they could hunt for whatever they needed.

They only shifted as they approached the village, a mile or so out. Fenrys had shivered, wrapping his cloak tighter around him. She nudged him in the ribs, “at least act tough, brother.”

He cut a nasty glare at her, but she shot a grin back his way. Y/n thought about making it a surprise, but ended up sending word ahead that she’d be coming with Fenrys. They’d remember him, of course. He’d already made several trips this far north for his duties as Emissary. Although this one was more pleasure than business.

“Nervous?” He asked, glancing at her.

She swallowed and nodded. “It’s been a while.”

Fenrys gave her a side hug, a silent it’ll be fine. She appreciated it. He released his arm as they approached the village, a female sprinting out towards her with a squeal.

Her cousin, Lida. She shoved her pack into Fenrys’s arms, ignoring his oof, and sprinted towards her.

The decorations in Orynth were beautiful. They always were this time of year, but something was missing. Someone was missing. Rowan held her hand, running his thumb over the back of her palm.

“We’ll make sure she’s here next year,” he murmured, voice soft enough only she could hear.

“Every year,” Aelin corrected. “I don’t want her to leave again.”

“Neither do I,” Rowan said hesitantly, “but we need to be careful.”

Maybe it’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong. But, Aelin hoped she was feeling as miserable as she was - was missing her just as much. There’s nothing wrong with wanting her mate close by.

A muscle in her jaw flexed. She was surrounded by all of her court - her family, but without her it didn’t feel complete. Without her and Fenrys. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth, and refocused her attention on Lysandra’s story. Something about the local ghost leopard population.

“Are you ready to be home?” Fenrys asked. They had about three hours left, and decided to travel the rest of the way in Fae form.

“I don’t know,” she gave an honest answer, not looking at him. “It was nice to see everyone, and I missed them, but …”

“You’re not certain how they’ll … be,” he finished for her. Y/n nodded at him, lips pressing into a tight line. Part of her feared Aelin and Rowan wouldn’t let her go again, and she told Fenrys that.

“I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he’d replied. No promises or guarantees, and she appreciated that. The blanket honesty he always came with. He’d fight for her, she knew that, but if Aelin or Rowan put their minds to something - there isn’t much either of them could realistically do about it.

The gates came into view, two figures along with it. Aelin had broken into a sprint. Fenrys quickly tugged the straps of her pack off her shoulders, and she sprinted to meet her halfway.

The impact sent her stumbling back a few feet, but Aelin wrapped her arms around her waist, holding her upright. She breathed in her scent, letting jasmine and lemon verbena overtake her senses. Her mate. The bond between them thrummed with joy, that they were together again - reunited. Like it was mad at her for spending time apart. Another warm body caged her in, somehow managing to twist her around in Aelin’s grip, her face turning to press against a hard chest. He laid a kiss down on the top of her head.

They didn’t need words to explain it. She felt it - their relief that she was back now, and safe in their arms. The pure possession in their touch filled some part of her, the wanting to be desired - to know her mates claimed her as much as she did them. How she proudly wore her mating marks - never making an effort to hide them, never disguising her scent, wrapped up in theirs so thoroughly everyone knew who she belonged to. As much as she was theirs, they were hers.

She didn’t protest as Rowan slung her up over his shoulder, tapping her ass lightly as she laughed. He carted her right off to the bedroom, Aelin hot on their heels, and showed her just how much they missed her.

She was still sleeping when Aelin snuck out, no doubt exhausted from the trip and traveling back. Trudging through the forest and snow for days was enough to exhaust anyone - even in animal form. The first person she sought out was Fenrys - who apparently was expecting her, and asked her what took so long.

“Tell me how it went,” Aelin instructed him. The male let out a slow breath. “All of it.” Aelin added, and his face tightened. Whatever it was, he wasn’t keen on telling her - and a few years ago she may have felt a bit guilty, but when it comes to her mate she wants to know everything.

“They were very welcoming, and thrilled to see her. She … came alive.” Y/n did seem to be glowing. “It took some convincing to get her to stick to our original itinerary.”

Aelin could read through those lines easily, she didn’t want to leave.

“Aelin,” Fenrys cautioned as she felt resentment build up inside of her. “She needed it, she’s already lost so much -”

“She has us,” she interrupted, but he ignored it.

“And her family needed her.” Aelin swallowed harshly. He knew exactly what strings to pull. A duty to her people as well, and if some of them needed her mate’s presence, she couldn’t easily deny it. Her oath to the country wouldn’t allow her. “They’re true northerners,” Fenrys switched subjects, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that hungover before. I’d bet gold her family could drink you or Aedion under the table.”

He went on to describe some kind of homemade liquor or wine they made, strong and dangerous apparently. You couldn’t taste the alcohol in it, but luckily y/n had stopped him after the third glass - telling him her family was getting him that wasted on purpose, to test him out.

“How was your trip?” Rowan asked, sitting down at the breakfast table. He’d been reluctant to let go of her, at all, and currently she was perched in his lap. He needed the closeness, to feel her body against his - to know she was here and present.

“It was good,” she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of them, her neck arching to search his face. He ran his knuckles down the column on her neck, her pulse fluttering beneath them.

“Just good?” He raised her brows at her.

“Wonderful. I missed them. It’s beautiful out there.”

“Can’t be as pretty as Orynth,” Aelin mused, taking a sip of her tea. Y/n gave her a small smile, but didn’t comment. He narrowed his eyes at his wife, tucking y/n’s head back into his chest so she wouldn’t see their silent argument. She could always read the words in their eyes, so he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, sure enough her eyes closed at the touch, a small sigh leaving her lips. He’d taken his sweet time to learn all of her reactions, how every touch affected her.

Are you going to say anything? Aelin teased him. She also knows what he’s doing now. If y/n does, she hadn’t said anything, but he suspects she doesn’t.

I know what you’re trying to do. Turquoise and gold eyes narrowed at him. Aelin wanted her to say she liked Orynth more, or put some kind of primary claim on their city. Wanted some kind of assurance that she wouldn’t up and move back out there. This is still her home.

Aelin didn’t look wholly convinced. His arms tightened around her. She’d tried to leave once, when it was just her and Aelin, and he knew that fear always settled in the back of his wife’s mind. That she’d slip through a crack, through their fingers, and they’d lose her.

I can’t lose her. Aelin said, as if she’d read his thoughts.

We won’t.

She knew they were speaking, having some sort of silent conversation. Rowan doesn’t know she’s aware of his little trick, but she’s more observant than he gives her credit for sometimes. She’ll never tell them she’s aware of it. Because, even if she can’t hear it - knowing when they’re having it, and what circumstance, tells her plenty. It’s obvious they’re speaking about her - they’ve never hidden talking about state matters in front of her.

She let out a yawn, covering her mouth. “It’s good to be home,” she mumbled into his chest. “Can we take a nap?”

“You slept twelve hours,” Aelin chided.

She twisted her head enough to see her. “And I’ve been running for a week.”

Her mate’s mouth curved up at one side. “Fair enough.”

She waited six months before approaching the subject again, and did so casually over dinner. She hadn’t approached Fenrys yet, but figured she could thro the idea out there. “I’m thinking about visiting again, soon.”

As expected, they both went preternaturally still. They were going to have the exact reaction she hoped they wouldn’t, but realistically knew they would.

“Why?” Aelin asked, too casually.

“I miss them.” She frowned. Wouldn’t that be obvious?

“You have us.” She countered. “You just saw them at yulemas.”

“I’d like to see them more, It’s not enough just to -”

“We’ve always been enough. What’s different now?” Aelin hissed at her.

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I need my friends, I need my family, I need you. You can’t expect me to pick and isolate myself from everyone else.” They seemed ready to cut in, but she kept going, “I was embarrassed at how shocked they were to see me,” tears built in her eyes. Her tears were always Aelin’s weakness, and sure enough the female’s face softened - even as Rowan’s remained a solid wall of stone.

“Stop. Crying.” Rowan said through gritted teeth. That only made the tears fall heavier. He didn’t seem to give a damn. “If you’d quit being emotional, we could actually talk about this.”

She shoved her chair back, rising to her feet. They both rose with her, her fists clenched at her side. “There’s nothing wrong with crying or being emotional.”

“It keeps you from thinking clearly,” he countered.

She needed to get out of here. The tension in the room was stifling. Maybe it made her a coward to flee, but she couldn’t, couldn’t handle this right now. She made it one foot from the door, before a shield of flames blocked her exit. White hot anger and rage filled her, how dare she? Slowly, she turned back to face them. Neither of them looked apologetic, or like they thought anything about this was wrong.

“We need to talk about this.” Rowan said mildly.

She didn’t care. Maybe she was overreacting, but at this point common sense left her. “I don’t want to talk,” her voice rose, “I want space.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Aelin matched her pitch, crossing the room to stand before her.

Rowan watched his two mates scream at each other. Normally, he would’ve interfered by now - diffused the situation, but he was pissed. She wanted to leave them, after she’d just gotten back. Six months is a decent amount of time, but every minute away from her hurt. Did the bond not feel as urgent to her as it did to them?

“You leave for weeks at a time, why can’t I?”

“We have duties to our country,” Aelin seethed.

“I have a duty to my family. Are they not as important?”

“You’d choose them over us?” Rowan cut in, moving to stand next to Aelin. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew that - but he didn’t care right now. All of their tempers were too hot.

“I refuse to choose.”

“And if you had to?” He cocked his head. He wouldn’t make her choose, but he wanted to know the answer.

She shook her head rapidly, “don’t make me answer that.”

“It’s a mating bond. You. Can’t. Leave.” Aelin said through gritted teeth.

Her face was flushed, fists still clenched at her side. “I’m not fucking leaving. Get it through your head.”

“Watch your tone,” he snarled.

Aelin surged forward, gripping her chin with one hand, and kissed her. Y/n stiffened beneath her, but her body reacted on instinct, lips moving against Aelin’s. He watched - almost in slow motion, as her mind caught up with what was happening, and she shoved Aelin off.

”You don’t get to kiss me to shut me up.”

He saw red.

Aelin felt Rowan’s anger, and held up a hand before he could do something he might really regret. He paused, he’d been mid stride heading closer to y/n, and took a step back, body tight and stiff.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, half-heartedly.

“You’re not,” she countered coolly. Aelin shrugged, but noticed how she watched Rowan with pure … terror. She’d never looked that afraid of him before.

“Rowan won’t do anything to you.”

Her shoulders relaxed, slightly. Rowan couldn’t hurt her, not really, but she knew if y/n made Aelin upset - hurt her in any way, the blood oath reacted to a potential threat against his Queen. The last thing she needs is for her to be afraid of him, for any more damage to be done. She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now.

She thought about that time, years ago, when she originally tried to leave. She’d needed to figure out how to keep her, and keep her happy in the process. Aelin had an innate fear that she might leave one day and never return. Politics wouldn’t let her storm into the staghorns and take her back. The bond would likely bring her back, eventually, but she didn’t want to take that chance.

“Let’s find a compromise,” she offered.

“Why do I have to compromise when it comes to my family?” She was still spitting mad. Aelin winced at the bitterness in her tone. “Just give me some space, Aelin.”

The wall of flames still blocked the exit.

“So you can run away?” Rowan had crossed his arms, but not moved an inch.

Hurt and betrayal filled her eyes. “You really think I’d leave you?”

“I don’t know,” she gave her an honest answer. She owed it to her not to lie. Owed her that respect, even if it hurt her. She circled around them, giving Rowan an especially wide berth, and headed towards the bedroom. She watched her, not trailing after her. If she wanted space, she could have it in here - or in the castle. The door closed behind her, and she heard the lock snick closed, as if that might actually keep them out.

Early summer, and the sun was still bright - despite the late hour, soothing and warm on her skin as she braced her hands on the balcony railing. Tilting her head up to feel the sun, her mind replayed the encounter. She hated fighting with them, hated it so gods-damned much. And hated that she could see where they were coming from.

Choosing. She knew the answer they wanted to hear, of course, but refused to give it to them. He had no right to ask that of her. It’s like asking them to choose between Terrasen and her, and that’s something she’d never request. Not in an eternity, not for the entire life they’d get to live together. Mainly because she knew the answer. Aelin would never abandon her country and neither would Rowan. But, the difference is she’d never make them choose.

Gods, she’d lost too much already. Her family, the ones left, are something she can’t stand to lose as well. Part of her, a part she needed to shove deep, deep down, was tempted to leave for a while - to prove a point. She pressed her head down against the railing. Prove that she could leave and come back. That she was still capable of having a life outside of them. But who was she proving that to? Herself or them?

Would it serve any purpose? If she really wanted to go, would they let her? If they dragged her back, it would break her but if they let her go, it would too.

Maybe some part of her is broken, for even thinking of testing them like that - of putting them and herself through that kind of pain.

The perfect phase had passed, and everything was shattering around her. The sun was setting before her, she needed to do something. Maybe they’d “let” her go down to her workshop. Or she’d argue with them enough til they either had to let her go or knock her out.

“I’m going down to my shop,” she announced as she strolled back through, sparing a passing glance at them. She seethed internally as Rowan gave her a quick nod. It was probably acknowledgement rather than permission, but everything was out of sorts for her now. Everything was skewed. Her mind shut off as her feet took the usual path, through back halls and servants passageways, avoiding all occupants of the castle.

Slowly, she opened the door. Everything in here was just as she’d left it this afternoon. Down to the tools strewn around the place, as if she knew she’d need to come back later. Aimlessly, she wandered around the space they’d created for her.

Something snapped. Tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to tell how she got to that point, but as soon as she picked up an object - a glass ball, painstakingly painted with small intricate designs - she threw it across the room, watching it shatter on the floor.

It felt good. She picked up another, and another, watching them all smash to the floor - into a thousand tiny shards.

She didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear the low curses, but heard her name. She whirled around, ball still in hand, arm cocked back. Fenrys. He held both hands up, taking slow steps towards her. His eyes scanned the room, picking up on all of the shattered glass behind her. She took a step back, and back, not registering the glass digging into the bottom of her feet, when did she lose her shoes? Her balance faltered, sending her careening forwards, knees digging into the glass. The pain didn’t register.

Fenrys called her name again, eyes pleading. She froze, and recognized the look. Haunted by something in the past, in his past. His boots crunched, glass breaking further beneath him. Y/n let him take the small ball left from her hand, watched as he slowly placed it on the table before coming back, offering a hand out to her.

She took it, rising up to her feet - wincing at the first hint of pain. “Don’t take me to them. Please.”

He only nodded at her, and carefully picked her up - minding the shards of glass still sticking from her skin. She didn’t feel anything as he took a pair of tweezers, plucking the small bits out. Her body healed quickly, not leaving a scratch behind. He found a washcloth somewhere, wiping the blood away - any last reminders of what happened as well. Finally, he took a seat down across from her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. “Do you need to talk about it?”

Her throat bobbed, constricting almost painfully, and she nodded. An arm reached across the table, palm facing the ceiling. She placed her hand in his, letting him squeeze, and everything spilled. With the exception of her thoughts about leaving, because Aelin could easily ask him - and he’d feel obligated to tell. But, she could tell he saw where her mind went.

“I know what they’re doing is wrong,” he started - and she heard the but. “This isn’t an excuse,” he took a deep breath, “Rowan lost Lyria, almost lost Aelin several times, and Aelin almost lost you. That’s what they’re scared of the most.”

He let the words settle in, waiting patiently for her thoughts.

“They really thought I'd leave. Permanently.”

He paused, leaning back in his chair. “You need to make them believe you won’t, that’s the only way they’ll loosen up.”

“What am I supposed to do? Take them home with me?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re always reluctant to meet my friends, or family.”

Fenrys let out a big sigh. “Then pester them until one of them comes with you.”

“It’s a long trip,” she frowned. A long time for one of them to be away from the capitol - and to leave the other completely alone. That would only brew jealousy.

Fenrys leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Whitethorn will visit Allsbrook at some point - likely next time the Bane is nearby there. We’ll time our visit - get him to fly his ass over the mountains, a quick trip.”

“You really think there’ll be a next visit?”

“I do try to go there frequently,” he grinned. Fenrys had gotten along well with her cousin, who had visited Orynth once in the last few months. She refused to ask any questions about it. “We’ll make it before the next snow hits - the trip will be shorter, you’ll end up away for less time.”

She groaned, leaning forward to press her head against the table. “I don’t know if it’ll work,” she mumbled.

“I’ll make it work,” he promised her. “Let me do the talking this time. You and your family are alternating now, correct?”

She’d forgotten about that. They’d talked about alternating who visits where for holidays, and she couldn’t make a promise - but they’d told her they’ll be in Orynth this coming yulemas. “We’re going to try to,” she muttered, still not moving her head.

Fenrys rose, and she finally lifted her head. “I’ll take you back up, then i’m having a little chat with their majesties.”

“Anything I can do to change your mind?”

He gave her a forced grin and shook his head.

Aelin lifted her head as the door opened, revealing both Fenrys and y/n. Immediately, she noticed the small spots of blood - one on the edge of her dress, one on Fenrys’s hand. The male sent her and Rowan a warning glance, shaking his head once. Y/n didn’t look at them as she headed right for the bathroom. Against all of her instincts, she didn’t follow. Not with the look Fenrys was pinning them with. She heard the tap running, starting a bath.

“I need to show you something,” Fenrys muttered, jerking his head towards the door. They were both on edge as they followed him. He led them right down to her workshop, and turned his head slightly. “Don’t lose your shit.” He paused, hand on the doorknob. And blinked. She counted, five times. This is real. Her heart dropped to her stomach. What the hell happened?

Glass. Broken glass covering the entire floor. And blood - y/n’s blood.

“This is what I walked into.” He said quietly. “She’s like a sister to me, and I don’t know what you’re doing to her, but for fucks sake. Fix whatever the hell it is.” He met Rowan’s glare head on, but she could only stare at the room.

Aelin swallowed harshly, and could only stare. Had he picked all of the glass out of her? Waited until she healed? Cleaned the wounds for her - like they were supposed to. Months, she’d spent months making all of those little glass balls, and only one remained. Decorated with the Lord of Terrasen, a flame between his antlers - green forest in the background. Yulemas decorations.

“Why didn’t you bring her to us?” She could sense Rowan’s temper flaring.

“She asked me not to.” He was leaning back against the wall, eyes still fixed on the glass. “But she managed to get out some of her rage. Anyway, I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do-”

“Yes you would,” Rowan interrupted him, and Fenrys snorted - rolling his eyes.

“But maybe consider getting your heads out of your asses. Don’t get me wrong - she’s no angel right now, but try and figure it out.”

Aelin hissed at the small insult against her mate, and he let out an edged chuckle, before sweeping his gaze back over the room. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, and she knew exactly where he was taken back to. Rowan looked between the two of them, and left without another word.

“Are you still banned from cleaning up in here?” Fenrys asked her after a few minutes. She huffed out a laugh, but nodded, and watched as he grabbed a broom - starting to sweep all of the glass into a pile.

“Keep the glass,” she murmured quietly. He tilted his head at her. “She might want to make something else out of it.” He didn’t question her, and she stood as moral support. They talked about everything and nothing - carefully avoiding speaking of y/n. If Fenrys was her confidant, she wouldn’t push him for answers now, even if she desperately wanted to. The back of her head hit the wall as she looked up at the ceiling. If she wanted to know something, she’d ask her directly.

Rowan came in silent, and she tensed - still in the bathtub. He stopped in the doorway. “That was stupid.”

At least he didn’t mince his words.

“It was therapeutic,” she countered. He didn’t reply, but his eyes scanned over her body, and she felt his magic reach out - checking for any kind of lingering injuries.

“You spent months on those,” he finally said. “Why?”

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek against her knees, arms tugging them close to her body. The water was already cold, and a small shiver went down her spine. “I don’t know. It’s all a blur.”

He saw the goosebumps down her spine, and grabbed a towel before striding over towards her. He stopped a foot away as her body tensed. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.

His rough and calloused palm was warm against her skin, and she let him help her out of the bath. He started running the towel over her body, and she tried to snatch it from him. “I can do that myself.”

He pinned her with a look, and continued, gesturing for her to turn around. She grumbled the entire way, but laughed as he gently swatted her ass. It felt so … normal, and she leant into that feeling, the moment, and didn’t let the events of the last few hours taint it.

By the time Aelin came back, she was already in bed - half asleep, half sprawled on top of Rowan, his hand running soothing strokes up and down her back. Wordlessly, they’d agreed to table it until tomorrow. Until everyone had a clear head.

She blinked her eyes open as the sheets rustled, Aelin slipping in beside her.

Aelin pressed a kiss against her forehead, murmuring “tomorrow,” before moving closer, caging her in between the two of them.

She woke the next morning, wincing at the nausea in her stomach. There was a slight cramp in her legs as well. But .. she’d only had her cycle a week ago, she wasn’t due another one for six months. And, she took her tonics like clockwork. Carefully, she untangled Aelin’s arm from her waist, awkwardly climbing over her, and slid towards the edge of the bed. She’d planned on an early start, to re-stock after her little episode.

Her feet hit the soft carpet, toes wiggling against it. Gods, she hated dragging herself out of bed in the morning, especially if the two of them were still sleeping next to her. Turning her head over her shoulder, she spotted half-lidded and wary green eyes watching her. She fought the urge to roll her own, he was watching at her like she might flee. Not entirely unreasonable, but he didn’t know that.

As she stood, pain shot up her legs, ricocheting as her muscles seized. She let out a small yelp, before crumpling forwards, barely tucking her arms in time to avoid breaking her wrist. Rowan was there in an instant, Aelin a second or two behind him. He fell to his knees before her, carefully propping her up with one arm as his magic ran over her. His nostrils flared slightly. “You’re settling.”

A shield of wind covered the room on instinct.

Rowan saw her eyes widen, tears starting to fill them, the scent of her fear filling the room. Aelin had settled shortly before she met y/n, and it was a difficult process to say the least. It wouldn’t be his first time helping someone through it. He knew how dangerous it was. How vulnerable Fae were during it. She could lose control of her power, or lose her power entirely throughout the process.

Meeting Aelin’s eyes, her expression mirrored his thoughts. If she thought they were overbearing before … he turned back to y/n. “It’ll be fine,” he assured her, stroking one hand through her hair. “You’re not alone.”

Months of her body re-ordering its aging process and magic re-adjusting. If she lost her magic .. although he didn’t think she would, it would wreck some part of her. She relied on it for some of her crafts as well, a large portion of which she’d just destroyed.

She’d already lost it for ten years. To get it back, and have it taken away again … he shoved the thoughts from his mind. If it came to that, they’d handle it. In the meantime - he’d do everything he could to prevent it.

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin #throne of glass x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #aelin x y/n #aelin x reader

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insignificant457 · 2 years ago

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Pierce Brown Light Bringer Q&A

I went to pierces book signing tonight and I will attempt to regurgitate everything I can remember since I didn’t take notes

When asked if there’s any characters he regrets killing off, he said Trigg. But he also said he has a different answer every time someone asks that

He talked about how he writes two different types of deaths—deaths that feel like the end of an arc, and deaths that feel like they cut off in the middle. He said the latter are more like life, and that’s why they hurt more, and why he’s more likely to regret killing them. Trigg is one of these, as is Fitchner

Speaking of Trigg, his aborted arc factored into the decision to add ephraim as a pov character—it allowed him to explore Trigg and his backstory even after he was gone

The other povs in iron gold were specifically chosen because each had a bone to pick with Darrow, and also because he wanted a high, mid, and low color pov

He was complimented multiple times on how he writes female characters, and his response basically boiled down to “I subscribe to the radical idea that women are people”. He said it’s funny that no one ever compliments him on his ability to write complex male characters

Related to the above, both victra and Aja were originally conceived as male characters, but he couldn’t quite make them work until he flipped the gender. He said that after making victra a woman, he immediately knew exactly who she was and she became incredibly easy to write

Speaking of victra (she got a lot of love, as she deserves), someone asked for a random fact about her, and he said she plays Karachi, which is a gambling game, but she doesn’t want anyone to know because she doesn’t want people to think she’s reckless. Everyone knows.

When asked how he feels about Lysander, pierce said “he’s doing his job,” both in universe and as a vehicle for the story. He also said this was always the path he’d imagined for Lysander

Some of his favorite lines are “do not fear for me, pity them” and “worthy”

He called Darrow a drama queen, and said that he often talks out loud while writing, and darrows internal monologues get weird reactions from friends who overhear (“who’s the motherfucking consequence?!?”)

Darrows experience in light bringer (in particular his reading of the path to the vale) was very much inspired by pierces own struggle trying to write light bringer. He said they both had to learn that the right path is not always forward, sometimes you have to go back

Light bringer was by far the hardest book for him to write (he said “if you ever want to know what the hardest book for an author to write was, just look at how long it took to do it) but he said it’s also possibly his favorite

When asked if any characters or relationships surprised him, he said yes absolutely. Sevro was apparently supposed to be a tertiary character, but basically hopped off the page, and victra was another surprise. He also said (light bringer spoilers) the relationship between Cassius and Lyria was also a huge surprise, but he realized on writing their first interaction that they would absolutely love each other

He also said that the snark between Darrow Cassius and sevro just flowed really easily, and that Darrow and Cassius understand each other, but that Cassius simply Does Not Get sevro

When asked about bringing the jackal back as a clone, he said it was an effort to explore cloning in a way that, in his opinion, has not been done particularly well in many other media. He also said it came about because there was more to explore with virginias relationship with her brother

Tongueless was a hat of death kill, but he told us the original backstory he had planned for him. Apparently tongueless was a high up leader of the syndicate, who was deposed by Lilath when she came in and instigated a coup

He said he tries to write using “South Park writing rules”, meaning instead of saying x and y and z happen, he always uses x happens but y happens or y happens therefore z happens. He said this helps keep things from feeling predictable or trite

When asked what he hopes people take away from the series, he said he doesn’t want to say, because he fears that would be showing his hand for red god. But he did say that what he hopes people take away from light bringer is the same thing darrow tells sevro in morning star “we keep looking for the light, but we’re it”

And lastly, in the signing line, I asked him when sevro found out his father was ares, and he told me it was “probably around the same time darrow found out”, and said a lot of that is because sevro had spent a long time hating his father, because he could always sense he was being shut out. He mentioned that children can tell when there are walls there, and it can actually have a very damaging impact on their mental stability (mental instability? I said. sevro? Never.) anyway rip to my sevro joined the sons pre series theory, you will be missed, but it’s nice to have an answer thanks Pierce

Anyway it was a very fun time, if I remember more later I will add it

#red rising #pierce brown #light bringer #$36 plus I got a signed copy of light bringer and he signed my copy of morning star #well worth the cost

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kuwdora · 5 months ago

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Witcher Recs - Angst & Connection

Witcher fandom has such a wide variety of angsty fic. I come bearing a small recs list of 8 angsty witcher stories today. Angst and pain and tragedy, surviving and sometimes not surviving, but also experiencing comfort in that times of need.

This list features game/book Witcher canons but some of them are a little more ambiguous than others. Rare pairs, side characters, and pain.

Pyres by KushielsMercy. 374w, Teen. Éibhear Hattori character study. Angst. People are always hungry on burning days.

A short fic but every sentence punches you in the throat, gut, and especially the heart.

On Roads Where I Lost Sight of God by kimikocha. Witcher Aubry, original character, Jad Karadin. Angst, child abuse, rescue, Eternal Fire. 1900w. Mature. In Novigrad, where life is cheap, Aubry finds two elvish children locked away in the basement of a philanthropist's hastily abandoned home. Rescuing them isn't even a question. But to do so he'll have to make it out of a city full of burning pyres, run by an Eternal Fire that's in a mood to set non-humans aflame.

The way Aubry tries to connect with the children as he’s trying to keep them safe, it always gets me.

A Killing Frost by @brighteyedjill. 1323w, Teen. Barmin. Impending character death, sacking of Kaer Morhen. Gardens and gardening. Barmin drew the key from his belt, unlocked the greenhouse door, and closed it behind him. The door did nothing to drown out either the smell of smoke or the shouting and screaming. He ignored it.

Secrets and gardens and pain of impending death and destruction, heart wrenching.

En'ca minne by @eatingcroutons. 2951w. Explicit. Milva/Iorveth. Milva saves the remnants of Iorveth's routed commando, and they stop to rest on the way to Brokilon. This is a missing scene fic about a story that Milva briefly talks about in Baptism of Fire. Elves, group sex, canon compliant.

I adore this fic because Milva absolutely deserves all the nice things. And oh the angsty pain and loveeeee.

A candle in the dark by and_a_dash_of_Angst. 1600w. Teen. Lambert and Yennefer. Childhood friends AU. Child abuse, angst, hurt/comfort, first meetings. Neither Yennefer nor Lambert had anything even vaguely resembling a happy childhood. That hasn't changed; sometimes, though, a friendly face can make things seem a little less terrible.

This is such a great premise and fantastic fic where Lambert and Yennefer meet as children and the friendship they find together amidst their abusive upbringings.

Falconry Basics by @brighteyedjill. 2100w. Mature. Coën & Vesemir. Touch-starved, nonsexual bondage. H/c, platonic BDSM. At the start of the winter at Kaer Morhen, Coën watched the Wolves shed their wariness and relax from being individual witchers into being a pack. They pounced on each other in playful attacks and kept some kind of elaborate scoring system about it. They grabbed hold of one another’s arms to get someone’s attention or make a point. They even tussled in the hot springs, all that naked skin sliding together. They knew each other well enough to understand what was wanted without conversation. Coën watched all that and felt it like an ache, like his skin was bruised from not being touched.

The ache in this fic is so painful and wonderful.

where ever I go (trouble seems to follow) by heronfem. 4,057w. Mature. The Inherent Tragedy of Witchers. Worldbuilding. Mental Health Issues. Ves and Vesemir. “I’m named after you,” is the first thing that Ves says to him when she walks up to where he’s working on sharpening blades. “Don’t make it weird, old man.” Vesemir snorts, unable to quite keep from smiling. There’s battle brewing and more bodies in Kaer Morhen breathing than they’ve had in nearly a century, and still he’s been backtalked by young ones. It’s almost nostalgic. “You are only one of many, many others. The world is a strange place.” Or: The Life and Times of Vesemir of Dol Angra, hero of Lyria.

All the character details that heron sheds a light upon in their work is extraordinary. I have a lot of favorite heron fic and this Ves and Vesemir one holds a special place in my aching heart.

Banishment by @witch-and-her-witcher. 520w. Mature. Iorveth/Iskra. Vrihedd Brigade. Angst. Backstory. Iskra seeks comfort before her fate is decided.

This ficlet. The rare pair of it all, omg. The angst of the impending threat to their lives and the comfort of the moment between two elves that never met in canon. This is a fascinating ficlet to see how these two might connect before the worst moment of their lives

Previously on Kuwdora's Witcher Recs:

Sorceress Femslash Part 1

Villains and Bad Guys Part 1

Istredd Recs

#kuwdora recs #kuwdora witcher recs #witcher recs #witcher rarepair #fic rec #witcher wild hunt #witcher books

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dragongirlbunny · 21 days ago

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new system summary post since the last one is already out of date. all totally unbiased descriptions courtesy of your local 🐰

Ariadne [aka Ari] (she/it) - host ('sysadmin'), dragongirl, most active fronter. very into worldbuilding/lore of fictional settings and strategy games.

Vesper (it/she) - bunnygirl, second most active fronter, usually much more horny on main. sucker for romance & drama. also the only bisexual headmate.

Amber (fae/faer, she/her) - faun//red panda shapeshifter. generally preoccupied with being cozy.

Lyria (it/its) - clockwork maid. usually posts in monospace font. Doesn't talk too much. Enjoys being helpful.

Epsilon / "D" (any pronouns) - just a pretty chill person. mediates between other headmates. further details are on a need-to-know basis w/ friends.

Prime (they/she) - robotgirl. does not like fronting. does not like socializing.

Scylla (she/it) - Harpygirl; doesnt front often, but usually hangs out in headspace. likes to antagonize Ari.

Ericka (she/her) - self proclaimed "princess of darkness". a bit of a brat. either a little or just very immature we dont know for sure yet. easy to bribe with sweets and/or positive attention.

Posts relating to the system at large are tagged 'system shit' and posts where the individual member posting needs to be specified are tagged with <their name>.txt with the exception of ericka who just tags her posts with the crown emoji. System as a whole uses she/her and it/its pronouns. With the exception of Vesper, everyone else is somewhere on the spectrum of asexual to lesbian; didn't feel like trying to figure out intricate details for everyone cuz thats excessive.

#ari is also a bit of a killjoy but epsilon wouldnt let me put that in the main post #system shit #vesper.txt

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euphoniumpets · 2 years ago

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NO MOURNERS, NO FUNERALS | CHAPTER ONE

Prompt: ''Run, run, that's all we ever do from our past but it will come back haunting us.'' You paused, staring into the brown eyes that you once had fallen in love with. ''Do you think it'll stop before we even die?''

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x heartrender! reader

Warnings: ptsd, mentions of dead corpses, violence, blood and gore, alcohol, slight minor description to rape to the reader, but not fully.

A/N: season two had me hooked and it was definitly worth the wait! Tag list are still open if some of you want to be tagged.

Taglist: @natsgaygf @lyria-skyfall @crystallizedtime

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten

THERE WAS A LOT that Y/N Brekker had learned about Ketterdam within years of living there in the strange city. It had been far too much information for a girl, simply twelve at the time to learn, but of course, it was easy enough when the first advice she had been given to adapt. That the person that Y/N could no longer be, not that she wished to be that girl anymore as it was too much of a reminder of the before, of everything bad that once happened to her.

Within a matter of days, the once kind girl who still had her innocence and who was scared of the dark became the every thing that everybody warned her about. Now, at seventeen, Y/N Brekker was the kind of person who you would dare to look at when she walked on the streets of Ketterdam.

During her times in Ketterdam, it taught her many things, even if the girl didn't wanted to admit it, but it had. It was anything if it came down to women like her. That woman who could bat their eyelashes and make the men drop their knees at any second. Tell them what they wanted to hear, dropping their secrets without a second thought.

She remembered the first time she arrived in Ketterdam, and remembered her first victim to kill. It wasn't pleasant and she still could hear how their bones and heart beat dropped. She would like to think it was an accident, that she was just trying to protect herself that night, but Kaz would often tell her that they'd deserved it and promised himself that no one would touch you.

Y/N remembered well when she met Kaz and Jordie for the first time. It was a bittersweet memory for her, when she thought back at the old times. She had escaped from the little palace when she was young, her parents tried not to give her to the second army, but it was too late for them to join Y/N in Ketterdam.

Both of her parents was a heartrender, and it was the only gift that Y/N promised herself to cherish it one day, and when the firepox happened, the only ones who did survive the disease was Y/N and Kaz. They both promised each other to rebuild and take back what was theirs.

Thunder boomed over Ketterdam as Y/N walks through the bustling streets, trying to get to the crow club. Her hood blocks from the view as she walks through the shadows and tried not to drag the attention to herself. After a few moments, she slithers from the shadows, removing her hood and strutting into the club.

Upon noticing, the girl noticed that a ceritan friend wasn't guarding the door. Walking inside, a gunshot rings through the club.

Oh, Jesper.

Thinking to herself as she shook her head disapprovingly while the Zemeni boy winks at her before he reached for the money. Before the boy could reach it further, you noticed the familiar crow on the cane at the table. ''No loud noises at the table, Jesper,'' Kaz commented, slightly shaking his head.

''You'll scare of the pigeons,'' He told him. ''Wouldn't that boss,'' Jesper replied as Y/N approached them. ''Shouldn't you be on the door?'' Kaz questioned as he took off his cane and placed it back on the ground. ''Yes, boss,'' Jesper walked away from them while you patted the boy on the shoulder before uttering away.

''You and your birds,'' Y/N replied as Kaz turned to face her. ''I never understood your fascination,'' Y/N commented and tilted her head as she saw the slight smirk forming on his face. ''Yet, you have the crow pin back of your head that I gifted you for our anniversary,'' Kaz remarked, nodding at Y/N who had her hair up as the crow pin that Kaz gifted for her tied back of her hair as an hair accessory.

''I could say the same, admit it, you're liking the cane I brought it for you,'' Y/N teased him, making him chuckle at her comment as Y/N saw Rotty approaching them upstairs. ''Early for an action, innit, Kaz?''

''Mrs. Brekker,'' Rotty greeted you with a nod.

''What do you want, notty?'' Kaz questioned him. ''Someone stole a Dekappel from a merch's private residence last night,'' Rotty replied.

''Is that so?'' Kaz questioned, sharing a look with you. She really tried not to snort at his comment. ''It's a painting, a landscape of Ravka, the fold, oil parchment,''

''I know who Dekappel is,'' Kaz snapped. ''Well, he don't do nudes, so, I've never heard of him,'' You wrinkled your face in disgust. ''Go get it, Rotty,'' Rotty reached into his coat and pulled out a miniature painting of it. ''Worth something like a 10,000 kruge,''

Kaz takes one look at it before looking through the club. ''The thief had to get past four roving guards, high fences, padlocked doors, and a security system designed by one of them Grisha witches,''

''Fabrikator,'' You corrected him. ''Whatever, the point is, either it was a group effort or a ghost,'' You smirked, knowing it was her job due last night that Kaz had assigned her to.

''Why does this concern me?'' Y/N heard Kaz question next to her. ''I've got a buyer lined up, legit money, so, if you hear a whisper,'' Rotty winks and clinks his tounge. ''Who can hear a whisper in here?''

''I wonder where that painting is,'' You replied with a smirk forming on her face as they walked away from Rotty. They climb up to the stairs and into their office that they shared together at the crow club. Kaz holds the door open for Y/N before closing and locking it in. Kaz turned and sends a smirk to the painting.

''Yes, it is a strange thing, who would be able to pull that off,''

''Uhm, me?'' You questioned and tilted your head toward Kaz. ''You're the one who stole it,'' Kaz replied and rolled his eyes. ''It was an easy job anyways,'' You remarked, walking to the bed and sat on it.

You doesn't pay the attention to Kaz as he took his gloves off as he began to wash his hand. The room was silent before you heard a thump appear. Another heartbeat and you guessed it was Inej.

''Hello, Inej,'' Kaz greeted her. ''What information do you have for me tonight?'' Kaz questioned her as you and Inej shared a nod of greeting. ''A lead on a job, a big one, enough to change lives,'' Inej replied before taking off her mask.

''It doesn't take much to change someone's life in the barrel,'' Kaz stated. ''It's true, a little goes a long way here,'' You replied as she turned her head to look at the petite girl.

''How about a million kruge?'' Inej spoke, making Kaz froze and look up at her in the mirror. You knew that Kaz would do anything for the money. ''What's the name?'' Kaz questioned her.

''Dressen, a wealthy merchant,'' She informed.

''I've heard of him, he could affort it,'' You told Kaz as their gaze locked with each other. ''The question is, what's worth a million kruge to him?'' Kaz questioned. ''He's looking for a crew willing across the fold into East Ravka and bringing back something,''

Kaz turned to look at Inej and you narrowed her eyes with curiosity. What could be so important that they were willing to across the fold?

''The Fold?'' You asked her. ''Well, of course, certian death pays a million,'' Inej looks down as Kaz turned arount to face at the mirror again. ''He didn't say to what he wants nicked?''

''No,'' Inej responded, still looking at the ground. ''But, he's taking meetings, tonight, starting at midnight,'' inej informed them. ''Tell me you follow him,'' Kaz responded and looked at her, making Inej slightly roll her eyes. ''Of course she did, you always underestimate her, Kaz,'' You commented.

''He brought someone in from a ship, took a way back to his house into the Garden District to avoid attention, I would have followed him inside, but Dreesen hired some privaty security, I would have had use to my knives to get closer,'' Inej explained with a smirk.

''Private security?''

''It must be something big if he needs that,'' You muttered to yourself, making Kaz nod at your statement.

''A Zemeni man, I think his name is Tendo, you know him?'' Inej questioned.

''Yes, he gambles at Pekka's clubs, so, I won't have leverage on him, but Pekka will,'' Kaz replied. ''And how do you plan on getting that leverage?'' You questioned, raising an eyebrow toward Kaz. ''I'll find a way, you know that I always does,'' Kaz remarked as he walks over to his desk.

let me know what you think! remember, reblogging always helps!

the tag list is still open, please comment or send be through inbox to put me on the tag list!

#kaz brekker x reader #inej gafha #nina zenik #jesper fahey #shadow and bone x reader #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #pekka rollins #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #the darkling #aleksander morovoza

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jessilynallendilla · 4 months ago

Text

THE WITCHER FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED WORD COUNT SERIES

had to break it up because tumblr was being a bitch

FAE/CREATURE/NON HUMAN JASKIER

let me know if the links aren't working feel free to recommend any

GERASKIER GERALTXJASKIER

Refuge In Lettenhove EX 65,566

Geralt and Ciri are on the run from Nilfgaard. After a narrow escape from certain death, they seek refuge in a Lettenhove court. Geralt is shocked to find that the viscount, (and secret leader in the resistance) is none other than the man he scorned on the mountain. But Jaskier is acting as though he’s never met him before in his life. Is this is the chance Geralt needs to set things right?

As Fast As Love Can Go T 9,628

There are Faeries in the Wood. That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories. Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process. Jaskier goes into a magical forest and comes out with a witcher.

The Knight's Favour T 15,640

Geralt happens upon a jousting tournament between Lyria, Aedirn, and Rivia. He's invited by the Lord and Lady Pankratz to watch from their private box as their champion, Dandelion, defends the title. Geralt becomes jealous of this Dandelion under the assumption that he and Jaskier would make a fine match. And just where is Jaskier anyway? He's missing quite the show. Alt - Jaskier enters a joust as part of a family tradition and Geralt is having heart palpitations. Jaskier dedicates his matches to his 'laddie fair' and he and Geralt make a little wager as to whether he'll win with some fabulous prizes in store.

Heartbeat M 12,423

Geralt doesn't understand what it means when Jaskier's pulse changes or why his breath catches, he doesn't understand why he either avoids Geralt or doesn't leave him alone. Geralt is confused about many things but mainly why he even cares.

Jaskier knows Geralt isn't an idiot and he hasn't been very careful but he just can't help himself. He has a poet's soul and what he feels he sings. It won't be long now until Geralt figures it out, maybe he already has.

Biting Snake Isn't Better Than Knife In Your Back M 280,400 SERIES

There was something ugly churning in Geralt's gut watching all those nobles flock around Jaskier. Fawning, complimenting, flirting. Jaskier should be thriving and preening from all the attention. Instead there was something uncomfortable and pinched in his expression, skillfully masked behind playful smiles and bright laughs.Geralt didn't want to contemplate why he, and only he, noticed the bard's wish to run.

I Can't Say I Love You (But I'll Try) T 23,739

Jaskier may or may not be in love with his closest friend. (It’s the former.) Geralt may or may not feel quite the same way. (It's the latter.) They'll make do

The Witcher Soldier M 24,871 SERIES

Geralt barely managed to slam the pommel of his sword up in a glancing blow that shattered the metal latch holding the Soldier’s mask in place. The Soldier rolled into the movement with a dancer’s grace and came to his full height just as easily. For a moment, his hands reached up to run over the exposed skin, before he slowly turned to face Geralt once more.

The Witcher froze in a mixture of horror and near-frantic hope.

He stared into the eyes of a dead man and whispered, “Jaskier?”

The Soldi--the bard frowned at him in confusion and spoke with a voice rough with disuse,

“Who the hell is Jaskier?”

It's What My Heart Just Yearns To Say T 5,564 SERIES

Jaskier’s a romantic at heart. So you would think he falls in love at first sight. But... when he falls in love with Geralt, he falls very, very slowly. Or, ten moments where Jaskier falls a little bit more in love with the Witcher, until he's really not sure when it started in the first place.

If I Had My Way, I'd Tear The Building Down M 7,257

Jaskier rescues Geralt from a villain who commits the ultimate sin: he cuts Geralt's hair.

The Driftwood And The Rift T 6,727

It's been months since the mountain, and Geralt hasn't spoken to or seen Jaskier since. He certainly hadn't expected to run into the bard like this--fending him off in the woods, trying desperately to help him break out of the spell that has him slashing at Geralt's throat before one of them ends up dead.

And Everything I Ever Did Was Just Another Way To Scream Your Name T 2,298

The damn Witcher, with his eyes and hands and arms. Jaskier has a type, and his type is sleeping three feet from him every night, and he could leave if he wanted to but he’s always been a bit of a masochist. More than a bit, if he’s being honest. It’s no coincidence, then, when he seeks out the rougher side of things more often. Waits for them to come to him, because he knows it’s dangerous- doesn’t say a word to Geralt, just in case. Not everyone is tolerant, and Geralt is a good man beneath everything but. But. It seems foolish to risk the friendship he’s built just for that. He talks at length about the women he beds and doesn’t breathe a word about the men. He’s not ashamed of being the way he is, just… careful.

If I Must Starve (Let It Be In Your Arms) M 31,259 SERIES

The witchers of Kaer Morhen have never been comfortable with gentle touches. It just isn't who they are. But when Geralt arrives to spend the winter with his brothers looking more relaxed than any of them have felt in years, all due to the affection of a human bard, Lambert and Eskel grow curious. They wonder what it would be like to be touched or held without fear. When Lambert runs into Jaskier in a small town in Redania, it's the safest he's felt in years. He and his brothers need touch and kindness more than they're willing to admit, and all Jaskier wants it to help , if only the witchers would let him. Geralt and Jaskier are together, all the other relationships are platonic with a good helping of touch-starvation on the side.

Silence In This Room, The Death Of Me T 5,799

fate really is a bitch like that sometimes or, 5 times jaskier dies and geralt lives, and 1 time something different happens

Guardian Of The Soulless EX 138413

Modern!AU. Geralt has just left a relationship with Yennefer, the boss of a top London crime family. They leave on good terms, and he stays as a bodyguard for hire to be called upon when needed. He has every reason to believe his life will carry on as normal, but he barely gets two footsteps down the street before he finds a noisy angel amongst his monsters of the crime world. Jaskier has no idea what he's gotten himself involved with, and frankly he's more excited for it. Cue Jaskier finding a heart to call home, and Geralt realising love is what he'd always been missing.

Maybe Time Running Out Is A Gift NR 8,055 SERIES

He knows Geralt loves him because there is no other explanation for the way he holds Jaskier, like he’s something gentle and treasured, like he’s precious. But he also knows Geralt is not human. Geralt has lived more than twice as long as Jaskier, and will live on for possibly centuries more. And, unlike Yennefer, Jaskier cannot be there with him forever. And you love him. He thinks, watching Geralt oil his blades by the fire. God help you, you love him more than anything.

Do It Again EX 6,771

By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch. He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt. “Fuck.”

(No Longer) Wanting NR 5,114

Jaskier finds Ciri after the events of Episode 6 and brings her with him to Oxenfurt as his bastard daughter. Geralt shows up too. Found family ensues.

All Unwoven M 2,911

Jaskier cares for Geralt after they are attacked by bandits. Geralt knows he isn't getting the full story of how exactly they escaped, but Jaskier isn't ready to talk about it yet. But when a bard at a tavern sings a song recounting the events, Geralt gets the full story.

If Wishing Made It So M 6,158

Geralt stared down into the ravine and the glittering rocks below and wished the rumors of the Witcher’s missing emotions were true. He wished for a lot of things, then, staring down at the smear of blue silk stained red. None of them came true. On a hunt that goes bad, Geralt is forced to imagine a world where his bard will no longer walk at his side.

Five Times People Thought Geralt And Jaskier Were A Thing... G 7,438

... + 1 time they really were.

Who Is The Monster EX 30,728

The life of adventure has been calling to him all his life, and the second he met the Witcher he knew this was destiny knocking on his door. Geralt was strong, beautiful, and surprisingly gentle- despite the incredibly painful punch to his loins he'd received the first time they'd traveled together. However, the longer Jaskier travels with Geralt the more he starts to realize the world was nothing like what he'd been taught in Oxenfurt. He's been very sheltered, very spoiled, and very stupid. He pauses on the word humans, hesitant to admit it. Perhaps uncertain of how Jaskier would take it. Maybe hoping that Jaskier would be the first human to understand it. Monster, the word thrown at Geralt everyday, wasn’t something he himself thought defined him properly. And even though Geralt’s job was to hunt and slay and kill for coin, he didn’t see them in human terms. Jaskier wasn’t sure. He was only guessing. It seemed like a pretty spot on guess though.

In Ways That Can't Be Said T 6,960 SERIES

Geralt lives in a very dark and violent world. Good things are few and far between. He doesn't know what it means, really, to be in love. So when he falls in love with Jaskier, it happens slowly. Gradually. Reluctantly. Or, 10 moments where Geralt falls a little more in love with the bard no matter how much it scares him.

Soap Suds And Capable Hands G 4,385

Jask wants to coax him into it, soap him up and wash him down in a way that strips him of all the mud and muck and misery of being a witcher on his lonesome, and he wants to watch what Geralt’s like beneath all of that, beneath the facade he’s learned he has to keep up in front of other people. 3 times Jask helps Geralt bathe, and 1 time Geralt helps Jask

The Silence Between Heartbeats T 7,969

Geralt faced off with a sorceress, only instead of her magic killing him, it stole his voice. But this should be an easy fix, he knew many women who could heal this. But that would mean anyone noticing something wrong. He knew he was quiet, but seriously, did no one wonder why he wasn't saying a single thing? Months he traveled silent, no one noticing and it was driving him mad. Until he runs into Jaskier, who notices immediately that something is wrong. Because of course it is Jaskier. Who else in the end would it be, who properly saw the White Wolf?

The Lesser Evil EX 78,584

1674 and piracy is rife throughout the Caribbean. Plenty of work for a Pirate Hunter such as Geralt. But when he takes a contract to hunt down a pirate captain who is interfering with important trade, a harsh truth arrises that will question his morals and he will be forced to choose between two evils, and risk the one thing he never thought he would find. Love.

Unwanted T 8,499

Having reunited with Geralt post-dragon hunt, Jaskier finds everything he used to do for the Witcher is being done by someone else. He considers where he fits in Geralt's life, if at all.

The Arrangement EX 143,679 SERIES

Lyria and Rivia were either at war with each other or conjoined by personal union. In order to establish a strong new era of trade, a marriage was arranged between Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegard, Earl of Eskalott, merchant of Rivia, and Julian Alfred Pankratz, Duke of Lettenhove, pride of Lyria. But one night before the ceremony, Geralt runs from home, unwilling to marry a stranger and be forced into a strange new country after the loss of his own family at sea. For three long years, he's escaped capture, hunted like a dog across the Continent. When he's finally found a quiet place to settle down in Novigrad, he happens upon a bard one night who turns his unsteady world on its heels, and at last he believes he's safe to love freely. But the pack is closing in, and destiny might at last claw him back to his duty and bring him within the reach of the duke and away from his beloved Jaskier. And to make matters worse, the scourge of nobility, Drache Dagger has it out for the bard.

It's Only Forever, Not Long at All T

Just as he was about to lurch forward and check that Ciri was still safe in her crib, the french windows that led to his parents’ personal deck blew open, forcing him to take a step back. Jaskier blinked rapidly and waited for the curtains to settle. When he could finally see clearly again he took another frightened step back; there was a man standing in front of the open window.

“Who the hell are you?”

The man blinked, seemingly surprised by the question. “I’m Geralt...the Goblin King? You just summoned me to take your sister away.”

What Makes Life So Sweet M

“Did you learn about music?” Ciri asks one day, after a particularly bad night of terrible dreams, perched on Roach in front of Geralt. “At Kaer Morhen?

Geralt doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and when Ciri cranes her neck to look up at him, his face is full of what she thinks might be regret. His voice, when he answers, is quiet, almost sad. “No, we didn’t.”

Assuming that’s all she’s going to get, Ciri turns back around, startling when Geralt continues, haltingly, “We learned to whistle, to mimic bird calls. Useful things. Someone—a friend. A bard. He was always singing, humming. Talking constantly. Still is, presumably.”

When she glances back at him again, Geralt is smiling wistfully.

WITCHER JASKIER

All The World I've Seen Before Me Passing By T 93,101 SERIES

Julian just wants to play music without being driven out of towns with torches and pitchforks. So he procures what he believes to be a simple glamor from a mage. With his newfound appearance and confidence, he starts his adventure as Jaskier the bard. And then he meets the famous Butcher of Blaviken in a tavern in Posada.

Destiny Denied T 31,054

Stregobor created Witchers to be the perfect monster hunters, but they rose up against their creators and were not loyal to them. And so in revenge, Stregobor kidnapped one Witcher’s child of surprise, a young Julian Alfred Pankretz de Lettenhove. And yet, because of one small medallion that spoke to him, Jaskier’s loyalties were not to Stregobor, but to the Witchers who tried to raise him despite the distance.

The Nightingale Prince T SERIES

Jaskier doesn’t remember anything before waking up in Blaviken, hearing tales of a Butcher. He has scars he can’t explain and reflexes he can’t control, but he’s human. Absolutely, Positively, 100% human. At least, that's what he tells himself. But how long can he outrun his past before it comes back to haunt him, golden eyes and all? The Nightingale Prince was a Witcher feared across the continent and known for rescuing girls cursed by the Black Sun, including one particular Shrike. Until he went missing over a decade ago. Now there is only Jaskier, a bard. Armed with half a memory, a mage and a witcher at his side, Jaskier will have to discover his past in order to survive his future.

Demand An Encore M

He looked up, and a man stood before him. Geralt hadn't heard him approach. That was the first sign there was something odd. The second was the faint but still noxious smell of poison that clung to his fingers, just strong enough to make out over the spiced perfume he wore. And under all of that was a richer smell, as familiar as Geralt's own scent, because it was Geralt's own. Or a witcher's, at least.

WARLORD AU

With A Conquering Air EX 27,880 SERIES

Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen knowing his family gave him up without a second thought, and absolutely sure that the dreaded Warlord of the North will value him even less than his own blood did. But the White Wolf and his pack are not what Jaskier expected...and if he's unreasonably lucky, Kaer Morhen might become far more of a home than Lettenhove ever was...He is, in fact, going to be unreasonably lucky, because the Warlord of the North is a far finer monarch - and a far better man - than Redania's king has ever dreamed of being.

Transient ; Perpetual EX 138,180

The White Wolf, Warlord of the Southern Lands, Conquerer of Many is getting married to the youngest daughter of the king of Redania. Jaskier knows this because she's sent him a letter begging him to find out how to rescue her from her fate. Jaskier may never get another chance in his life to invade The White Wolf's Keep, a feat no other human has been able to do and live to tell the tale. He just didn't plan on that bloody love potion.

The Unconventional Love M 17,485 SERIES

Warlord!Jaskier after setting about creating a world for witchers to be equally treated is forced to confront the fact that his vision did not quite come to fruition. A nasty rumour about him conquering the continent because a witcher spurned his attentions has cause some misunderstandings. Such misunderstandings lead to the kings he has conquered giving him gifts of witchers that they scour their kingdoms for. Our favourite witcher is given as a gift, and Warlord!Jaskier must be a force of change for this man who he has conquered the continent for.

Firelight T

The Witcher Warlord of the North is feared by all. When Jaskier is caught up in a plot to murder the Warlord, he assumes that means he will die. And while his life as a disowned, wandering bard does end, it doesn't happen at all in the way that Jaskier thinks.

Do I Have To Be Who I Am? NR

Julian Pankratz is sent to Kaer Morhen to appease the Warlord of Kaer Morhen.

A Wedding To A Warlord M SERIES

Any other Omega about to be married would have a white lace gown strewn with silver beading and thread. The top would be open to expose unmarked shoulders, collarbones, and neck. A sign that the Omega was unmated and untouched, a precious gift wrapped in understated colors and delicate details. Jaskier’s dress was not any of those things.

The School Of The Raven T 6,166 SERIES

When Nilfgaard marches on Cintra the Warlord of the North wants to aid Cintra, but has no idea how to do so without earning the ire Calanthe (should she survive the battle). Eskel has an idea, and an entire school of allies they can call on.

MONSTEROUS GERALT

The Wrong Words Are Sometimes The Perfect Words M 4,631 SERIES

The mutations made a lot of changes to Geralt, size, eyes, fangs, and generally people were scared or repulsed by him. Jaskier would be quite offended if anyone ever called him something so pedestrian as 'people'

Could Be Wolves T 3,107

So it was safe to say most everyone knew the tales of witchers - of how they were sometimes more like the monsters they hunted than the humans they claimed to protect. They were ignored at best, hated at worst, and none more so than Geralt of Rivia, the white-haired, the infamous Butcher of Blaviken. or, 5 times Geralt is more monstrous than Jaskier expects, and 1 time Geralt is just as human as Jaskier knows him to be

Utter No Cries M 2,942

Geralt is a monster trying to be a man.

High Charisma EX

5 times the bard seduces the monster... (...and 1 time the bard gets seduced.)

Monsters Aren't Just For Hunting M

The bard has always been known to fuck monsters without a second thought through many incarnations of works. A certain tabletop game, for instance. But has anyone ever wondered why? Well, the reasoning goes all the way back to one certain bard. One who sang like a little lark, one that used the name Dandelion instead of his full name, because all of the best musicians had a pseudonym, so why couldn't he? The bard that started it all was one Jaskier, a bard who found beauty and grace in a monster of a man, a Witcher named Geralt of Rivia...Witchers are terrifying mutants, on par with the very monsters that they hunt. They use their swords only when they can't kill something with their bare hands. Even so, they try to look as human as possible, going so far as to file down teeth and claws, stand a little shorter than full-height, drink potions every day to keep their eyes some semblance of a normal color. Jaskier is a normal human bard. Nothing too magical about him, other than his singing and his views on people. His songs can get stuck in your head from the first time you hear them. When he meets a certain Witcher in a tavern one day, he insists on following him and being his friend and maybe a little more

MISCELLANEOUS

All Some Children Do Is Work G 13,805 SERIES

It's two children, he realizes as they slowly sit up. They look about eight or nine, not that he's much judge of children's ages. One is a girl, dark-haired, in a shabby dress. The other is a boy. His clothes aren't much better, and his hair isn't much lighter than the girl's, but his eyes—

His eyes, Jaskier realizes with a distant sense of horror, are gold like a cat's. His mind makes one more valiant effort to keep from connecting the obvious dots and recognizing them, and then it finally does.

"How in the unholy fuck," Jaskier says to no one, "did this shit happen?"

Whatsoever A Man Soweth M 47,210 SERIES

It has been four years since Aiden's death and the Battle of Kaer Morhen. Lambert is licking his wounds after a particularly shitty contract when he finds himself face-to-face with a certain merchant of mirrors. And he has a very interesting proposition...

#the witcher #fic rec #long post

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