#don't cry for me Temeria

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Iorveth Choosing Music

So this scene is actually going to be 2 or 3 chapters in the future of Time is Cruel, To Rob Us From Ourselves, but those chapters are really fighting me, so... have one of Iorveth’s most formative - and most painful - moments.

So we’ve got Saskia, Iorveth, Roche, the Stripes, Triss, Geralt, the Scoia’tael (Maeral, Imadia, Sylvar, Taredd, Ky, Rinn), Ciaran, Brigida, Anais, and Boussy all traveling through time as spectators to Iorveth’s life, but they’re noncorporeal to everyone in the past. Which means they’re now witnessing the (first) worst moment of Iorveth’s life.

“I would like to offer you an opportunity. We are looking for someone to headline in a new music hall in Dùthaich’s capital.”

Iorveth’s eyes went wide, disbelief and what might be hope on his face. “What – are – are you serious?”

Cravi smiled at the young Iorveth, “I am. We’d like you to build the hall and star in it. If that’s something you’d be interested in?”

The look on Iorveth’s face made it very obvious that the answer was an emphatic yes, but just as he opened his mouth to say so, his mother cut through their conversation.

“No,” she said simply.

The young Iorveth froze and Cravi blinked at her in bafflement, but Geralt’s attention was caught by the way their Iorveth curled in on himself. Whatever was happening here, Iorveth very clearly remember it well and was not pleased to be revisiting it.

“I beg your pardon?” Cravi said after a moment of silence.

“No. Iorveth is a ‘Veth. He will become a scientist. All of this music is simply a distraction.”

All of the young Iorveth’s excitement curdled at her words and his face dropped, resignation and sorrow visible in the slump of his shoulders.

“With all due respect, Miss,” Cravi began, “your son is incredibly talented. Such talent should be nurtured and cultivated, not dismissed.”

“Iorveth will become a scientist,” Milaveth repeated, voice firm. 

Geralt recalled how much an Iorveth even younger than this one had declared that he hated science. Even after Silas had helped teach him.

And this mother, who had neglected her child from the start, wanted Iorveth to throw away the one thing that made him happy to pursue the thing he hated?

This was doomed to end badly.

“Every ‘Veth going back centuries has been a scientist,” another elf put in. “Iorveth may be an idiot, but he’ll figure it out eventually.”

Young Iorveth flinched, jaw clenching.

“Your offer is declined,” Milaveth said. “You may leave.”

Cravi looked uncertainly from Milaveth to the other adult elves in the room, then back to Iorveth. “Is that what you wish?”

“His wish doesn’t matter,” Milaveth snapped. “Iorveth will be a scientist. Music has proved enough of a distraction, there shall be no more of it.”

“No!” the young Iorveth clutched his flute close. “I won’t stop playing.”

“Yes, you will,” Milaveth said. “You have embarrassed this family enough. It is time to give up that nonsense and focus on your studies.”

Young Iorveth looked horribly conflicted, torn between obedience and a desperate desire to keep what he loved. Before he could come up with a response, Milaveth stepped forward and snatched the flute out of Iorveth’s loosened grip. 

“We’ve allowed this to carry on for too long,” she said, ice cold. “There will no longer be any music in this house.”

To make her point, she gripped Iorveth’s flute between her hands and brought it down over her knee, snapping it in two with a crack that Geralt was certain he would never forget. Their Iorveth flinched from the sound, fingers clenched tightly around Saskia and Roche’s forearms.

The young Iorveth appeared stunned, not reacting for a long moment before Cravi burst out.

“That – that was an elven-made – do you have any idea what you’ve done!?”

Milaveth’s glare was biting and Cravi faltered under it. “Iorveth will become a scientist,” she said firmly.

“No.”

The word was small, barely any voice to it. The young Iorveth was shaking and his eyes were welling up with tears, but he clenched his fists and said again.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Milaveth scoffed. “Enough of this, Iorveth. It’s time to study.”

“No,” Iorveth said, and his voice was stronger this time and the look he leveled at his mother was full of pure hate. “I’m a musician. Fuck science.”

“Watch your mouth,” another elf snapped, but most of them were staring in dumbfounded silence.

“Go to your room,” Milaveth snarled, pointing at the staircase.

Iorveth hesitated, glancing at Cravi, then something in his gaze firmed and he turned on his heel, marching up the stairs.

Geralt blinked, surprised. That… was not how he’d expected things to go.

Milaveth looked pleased and she straightened her lab coat with a haught sniff. “As for you,” she said to Cravi. 

He glared right back at her. “You are ruining that child’s life,” he said.

“No,” Milaveth corrected, “I am saving it. Now get out.”

Cravi looked positively incensed, but he did move towards the door. Which was when young Iorveth reappeared, carrying a bag over his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said, running down the stairs. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you are not!” Milaveth looked furious, enough so that Geralt genuinely wondered if she might strike her son.

Iorveth ignored her, walking towards the door and opening it for Cravi, then moving to follow. Milaveth grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. 

“What do you think you’re doing!?”

“Leaving,” Iorveth said simply.

“No,” Milaveth growled. “You are not. As your mother, I forbid it. Now–”

“You aren’t my mother,” Iorveth said, voice as cold as ice. “You’re nothing.”

Shock at his words had apparently loosened her grip and Iorveth shrugged it off, then turned and walked out the door without a backwards glance.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #don't cry for me temeria au #iorveth #the witcher #wip wednesday

[jay-arts-t]

Sometimes I just like to think about what it could've been if Geralt had gotten Ciri right after Pavetta and Duny died. If Calanthe was so weighed down by grief she realizes she can't take care of Ciri. So she orders Moussack to go find Geralt to collect Ciri. Imagining Geralt in a random tavern somewhere in Temeria, slowly making his way up to Kaer Morhen for the winter as autumn is approaching. Him having a gut feeling he should head up early, he thinks it's because something is wrong with Vesemir so he's anxious to make it through. But Roach needs to rest and well, it wouldn't hurt to get some extra supplies for the winter. Certainly wouldn't hurt to get some extra booze so he has relief from Lambert's grating voice on his ears. Besides, he and Eskel can stay up late and drink to their hearts content up in his room like they used to sneak around when they were teens.

Then out of the blue he sees Moussack, and dread fills his entire body. He doesn't keep up with news outside of what Dandelion tells him. So when Moussack is telling him Calanthe is summoning him he's thinking "oh fuck, she's changed her mind and is going to execute me."

But Moussack reassures him he's not going to be harmed. Calanthe is asking for him because of his child surprise. And now Geralt is really worried. What happened to them? Are they okay? Are they hurt? Did they die? They're only a few months old, there's so much that could've gone wrong. So he agrees to go with Moussack.

Calanthe looks a mess when Geralt sees her. Eist is by her side as always, trying to comfort her. Pavetta and Duny are nowhere in sight and it's making Geralt extremely antsy. Calanthe tells him the news, her voice is hoarse from all the crying she's been doing. Geralt sympathizes with them, gives them his condolences. And then that's when he realizes "oh. OH. OH NO". Sure enough Calanthe tells him she can't take care of herself, how could she care for a baby. Geralt refutes telling her "they're your grandchild, I don't want to rip them away-" and Calanthe tells him then it's a girl. And for a split second his brain gives the helpful thought of "oh I have a daughter" and Geralt is having an internal meltdown right there in the throne room. But he can't refuse. His entire basis for not coming back and claiming her is because she has a family who cares about her. But now that family is saying that they can't care for her, not because they don't love her, but because they do. So Geralt agrees to take her.

The first time he meets her he is entirely captivated by how small and precious she is. The moment he holds her he feels overwhelmed with such a fierce protectiveness and he can't help but absolutely adore her. He is trying so hard to stay stoic and unemotional but the moment he's alone with Ciri back in that old tavern he'd been at he just holds her and smiles. If he'd been a normal man, he probably would've burst into tears by how happy he was. (he did later once she got settled into Kaer Morhen, when he and Eskel did end up drinking up in his room. They're talking about the usual things, and then he looked over to her in her makeshift crib and just started bawling. Eskel freaks out and asks him what's wrong and he replies "I just love her so much."... Yes Eskel teared up.)

Then he has to go through the lovely moments of "how the fuck do you raise a baby" which Vesemir watches with so much amusement. Geralt raided most of Kaer Morhen's library and Nenneke's office for books about parenting. (Kaer Morhen has none, unsurprisingly.) He eventually asks Eskel to go to Oxenfurt and grab Dandelion and any books about parenting, childhood development, psychology and women's health he can find. (He is DREADING eventually having The Talk with Ciri but he won't be unprepared.) Dandelion is completely awestruck with Kaer Morhen of course however, nothing shocks him more than seeing Geralt looking bone tired with a 5 month old baby wailing in his arms, trying to soothe her.

"uh... What ya got there, Geralt?"

"H e l p."

Where's Yennefer? What about Yennefer?? Geralt is hesitant at first to even tell Yennefer he has a kid. But she sends him a letter one day, asking him where he is now that it's coming up on spring. (Ciri's first bday!!! Yay!!!! Also oh gods planning a birthday?!?!?!?? That's a thing??????) So he does tell her, and she understandably to her character demands to see this child surprise. So again, sends Eskel on out (pls Geralt, he's your childhood best friend, not your errand boy.) to go get Yennefer. Yennefer storms through the main hall, not even acknowledging Lambert and Vesemir, and right up to Geralt. How did she manage to find her way through the halls without ever being there before? Geralt doesn't know and he's scared by it. Yennefer spots Ciri, who's doing her tummy time. To which she's very fussy about and gives the nastiest glares an almost 1 year old can to her father. Yennefer is absolutely gobsmacked that Geralt was being genuine. She points to Ciri, then to Geralt, then back to Ciri, to Geralt.

"YOU?????? HOW????"

"I'm really bad at making jokes."

Yennefer adores Ciri, but Ciri is a little skeptical of her. Who is this strange woman????? Where is her dad?????? Where's her other dad (Dandelion)???? How dare she smell nice and be warm???? Ugh as if she'd let her feed her!!! No way! Yennefer is always completely drenched with baby food whenever she attempts to feed Ciri. Geralt tries so hard not to laugh at her. Ciri is absolutely seething by the end of it and is only contained when Geralt picks her up and holds her securely. Then it's like little devil Ciri never existed, she's all smiles and babbling happily to her dad. Yennefer gets really disheartened over it. Late at night she ends up crying over it, thinking it wouldn't matter if she was able to have kids or not; Ciri proves she'd be a horrible mother anyway. Geralt doesn't know what to say at first, but he knows it's not true. Yennefer is trying her best, it's just that Ciri is really fussy. She even fusses sometimes when Dandelion holds her. He tries to comfort Yen, and ends up deciding the best thing to do is hold her and tell her that she's doing amazing. He doesn't think she believes him because she's still got a very somber look on her face the next day. She becomes reluctant to take up care of Ciri because of the incident. Well about after the third day of this Ciri gets fussy again. Geralt is taking a well deserved nap day. He's back in his room snoozing away. Yennefer and Dandelion are with Ciri in the library, one of the warmest places in the keep. Dandelion wipes his hands of the ink that stains them and picks her up and checks if she's soiled. She isn't, so he asks if she's hungry. She thrashes around in his hold and turns in search of Yennefer and starts grabbing towards her. So Dandelion hands her over to Yen. The moment Ciri's resting against Yennefer she settles down.

"huh, guess she just wanted her mommy." Dandelion comments and Yennefer starts crying. (Dandelion's face morphed from aww to OH FUCK)

The bigger Ciri gets the more rambunctious and energetic. Geralt couldn't be prouder that they're all raising her to be genuine to herself and that they've broken the generational trauma. Vesemir pats Geralt on the shoulder one day and tells him "I'm proud of you, Wolf" and damn, if that doesn't make him want to cry. He doesn't of course, only meeting Ciri made him cry from joy. And oh how she gives Lambert a run for his money. It's hilarious to see a 60-something year old argue with a 4 year old. They get into the most stupid arguments too. "blue is better than red!" Or "I'm taller than you" which is the most absurd because it's always Ciri who starts it. Geralt thinks it's because Lambert is the shortest besides Vesemir. But Vesemir has only become short due to his old age, and Ciri already gives him a hard time for that. ("Why are you so fat and old? Aren't you a Witcher like Daddy?" She said once and Vesemir just paused and looked at her like "why would you say that to me". She burst into a giggle fit at his crushed expression.)

The argument will always, without fail, go:

C: I'm taller than you.

L: no you're not? I'm 5'11!

C: well I'm 8 feet tall!!!!

L: more like 2 feet tall!

C: NO! SEE

Then she'll stand on the chair so she towers over Lambert.

L: fine well I'm older.

C: no??? My birthday is first

L: NO ITS NOT?

C: YEAH IT IS

L: NO APRIL IS BEFORE MAY. AND IM 67, YOU'RE 4

C: uhhhhh I hate to break it to you, but no you're not. You've been lied to your whole life.

L: W H AT WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE????

C: uhmmmmm god.

Then when Coën finally meets one of the Wolves and comes up to Kaer Morhen he's shocked to see someone so young. At the time Ciri was around 7. She calls him ugly and walks away to the stables. Coën is just left flabbergasted while Lambert and Eskel are laughing their asses off. Geralt apologizes to him, while trying to hold in his laughter. Coën becomes like an older brother to Ciri, and he gets on her good side by helping her prank Lambert.

When Ciri hits 12 she does get her period, and Geralt is like "OH GOD OH FUCK HOW DO I TALK TO HER ABOUT THIS I DONT WANT TO MAKE IT-" and Yennefer walks into the room and goes "I told her, we're good."

Then comes the "boy talk" Where Ciri brought up that a character in a romance book was attractive and Geralt went into "No one is good enough for my baby girl" dad mode and brashly announced "you're not allowed to date boys until you're 21."

Yennefer slaps him on the arm and Ciri looks at him almost offended.

"jokes on you I don't even know if I LIKE boys. Maybe I just like this character's personality." She replies sassily. Geralt cannot argue with that logic. (And yes 2 months later, she goes on a day trip with Yen and talks to a girl her age. She comes back and Geralt asks her how it went and she says "I definitely like girls." And walks up to her room to take a nap. Geralt celebrates as soon as she leaves "YES!!! I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT SOME BRUTE MESSING WITH MY DAUGHTER FUCK YEAH" Yennefer reminds him that some women are just as bad and he crumples to the floor in agony. Now he has to worry about brutish women hurting his daughter.)

Essentially, I just love that Geralt has a daughter, and that he's so proud of her and loves her so much. Their relationship is just so 🥹❤️ I adore them.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #dandelion #yennefer #vesemir #papa vesemir #peepaw vesemir #dadralt #lambert #eskel #coën #calanthe of cintra #eist #moussack #geralt best dad award #he just loves his daughter so much #gerlion #yenralt #oh god whats the ship name for book yen geralt and dandelion????? #book! yennefer x geralt x dandelion #the witcher saga #the witcher books #ciri #cirilla of vengerberg #ciri introducing herself like “I HAVE 3 PARENTS WHAT DO I GO BY????? CIRI WHAT? OF RIVIA? OF VENGERBERG? PANKRATZ???” its a dilemma.

[witcher-ot3]

More Character Designs: (Im)Perfect Strangers

@void--punk​ introduced me to https://www.heroforge.com/ and I... may have gone a little crazy. But hey, figure someone might care and I like sharing things.

Scoia’tael

Iorveth is the Commander of the Scoia’tael and is best known for uniting the disparate Scoia’tael units and leading them to Vergen’s aid to achieve victory during the Siege of Vergen. While many would easily believe that the elven commander would sooner die than stand alongside humanity in peace, Iorveth swore his service to Saskia of the Free Pontar Valley eagerly and has dedicatedly served at her side ever since.

Ciaran served as Iorveth’s second in command for many years, but when the Scoia’tael Commander swore allegiance to Saskia of the Free Pontar Valley, Ciaran decided to lead a group of disgruntled Scoia’tael to form an elf (and a single dwarf)-only city. 

Maeral is one of the most respected commanders to ever serve in the Scoia’tael. As the lead strike force, Maeral’s elite all-woman unit faces the highest odds of death. And yet, since Maeral’s unit rose to prominence, their death rate has been extraordinarily low.

Kythaela is best known for her bright and peppy demeanor. It takes a great deal to dampen her spirits and she has often been known to smash through human guards with a laugh. Kythaela considers her biggest pride to be her inclusion in the elite woman-only strike force in the Scoia’tael.

Rinn is the best spy in the Scoia’tael, and no one is entirely certain how she manages to get where she does. However, no one can deny, she gets results. She is the only spy to ever manage to follow the Blue Stripes Commander Vernon Roche without getting caught. This duty just so happened to lead to her meeting the most incredible woman she’d ever seen: Priestess Adda of the Temple of Melitele.  It has been theorized that only those with superhuman senses can tell when Rinn enters a room. 

Imadia is old, even for an elf. She remembers a time before humanity drove the Aen Seidhe to resort to guerilla warfare to survive. At heart, Imadia believes that life should be bright and happy - and she lives this out in her work as a healer and her loud fashion choices. 

Sylvar is a fierce warrior, despite the burn scars covering the majority of his body that limits his range of motion. He has fought for the Scoia’tael since the day a human mob burned down the house he and his mother lived in. Only the advanced abilities of elven healing saved his life, though unfortunately his mother was not so fortunate. 

Taredd is considered the best tracker in the Scoia’tael. He reads the ground as easily as he reads a battlefield - which is to say, if you are attempting to outrun the Scoia’tael, you better hope you don’t have him on your tail. Taredd is also exceptionally short for an elf, measuring no more than 4 feet tall.

Blue Stripes

Vernon Roche commands Temeria’s elite Blue Stripes special forces unit. Tasked with hunting down the nonhuman terrorists known as the Scoia’tael, he has proven himself an effective commander as the one special forces leader in the North that the Scoia’tael Commander Iorveth has never managed to defeat. If one looks closely, they might spot something around his throat that indicates there’s more to this Temerian loyalist than meets the eye.

Ves is the first woman to ever serve in the Temerian Army. As second in command of the elite Blue Stripes unit, Ves eagerly proves that any woman can fight as hard as a man. According to Ves, the best thing a woman can do is cut down an elf or kill a Nilfgaardian. 

Other (Im)Perfect Strangers Characters

Geralt of Rivia is a Witcher, a monster hunter created by mutating a human child. For several years, Geralt of Rivia was considered dead, but he reappeared recently in the Court of King Foltest of Temeria. It is rumored that the Witcher and the Court Mage are involved.

Triss Merigold is best known for her work as a political advisor to various Northern Kingdoms throughout the past several centuries. Most recently, she has served as Court Mage for King Foltest of Temeria and Queen Saskia of the Free Pontar Valley. Triss is not the most powerful mage, but long, long practice means that while the power she draws may be small, it is steady and longlasting. As a mage, Triss has always found the nature easy to call upon and indeed, if one is so unfortunate as to piss her off, they will discover just how eager the natural world is to answer her call. Fortunately, Triss’s passion is in healing and politics, not in warfare.

Saskia the Dragonslayer - who also happens to be a dragon - rules the Free Pontar Valley. While she is a fierce warrior, Saskia believes in offering a hand to those in need. It is said that dragons have hoards. If so, one might expect that Saskia hoards gold or gems. And indeed, the mines of Vergen produce these things. But the truth is, Saskia’s hoards her people, and a dragon does not suffer harm to their hoard.

Adda’s life started as a horror story - cursed into a striga before she was even born, she spent the first 8 years of her life living as a monster. Geralt of Rivia was able to lift the curse, but even so, some monstrous attributes remain. She’s rather come to like them though - especially when it meant that she could sense the elven spy that followed her Uncle around. Adda trained as a healer at the Temple of Melitele, but sadly politics interfered with her dream and Adda was forced to marry King Radovid of Redania, from whom she determinedly hides her more monstrous traits.

Luka is the librarian for the grand library in Vergen. She has dedicatedly cared for the books and scrolls for centuries and intends to spend many more doing the same.

Set Way In The Future

Anais is practiced at both melee and ranged fighting and her weapon of choice is anything that can be swung hard enough to ruin someone’s day. She loves fighting and glories in it, just like her mentors taught her.

Boussy is a lover, not a fighter. But, on the strangely common occasion that a flock of baby birds needs rescuing, his aim is good enough that he can fight off whatever is hunting them. He also lost his right arm at some point, but he’s pretty happy with his magic prosthetic. 

#rorveth #don't cry for me temeria #character design #the witcher #the witcher 2 #this is what I spent all day doing #hero forge

[hosts-of-valyria]

An epic clash: Yennefer and Jon in Casterly Rock, "Let me do the talking for now, honey", said Yennefer.

Yennefer of Vengerberg vs Tywin and Kevan Lannister; Yennefer instantly recognizes lies

Yennefer's wisdom and strength: Yennefer Stark-Vengerberg and Jon Stark-Vengerberg. Only Yennefer of Vengerberg can get the most out of Jon

"What Makes a Good King or Queen?"

Independence for the Kingdoms

"I am only human, Tywin. Be glad the Iron Throne is gone and the Lannisters are kings and queens in Casterly Rock", said Rhaegar.

"I'm sorry, Cersei, that Emhyr declared war on House Lannister. I run through worlds, screaming, crying alone only to see in the end that chaos awaited me. Only here in this world do I feel good", said Ciri.

Cersei smiled, "Cintra suffered because of Emhyr, Ciri. None of this is your fault. Myrcella, you and I are going to Cintra to unite the armies of Cintra and House Lannister. That would also be in the spirit of Pavetta and Calanthe."

"Everything I did was for the good of House Lannister. Yes i was hiding under Casterly Rock. What's bad about staying neutral that doesn't make me evil if I want to choose the winner.

It stinks of rebellions in the Kingdoms, the treacherous vassals are already mutinous. Gregor Clegane rebels against House Lannister, Addam Marbrand rebels. In the north, the Boltons are rebelling. Brienne of Tarth's father rebels against Robert Baratheon in Storm's End. Yronwoods rebel in Dorne. The hill tribes in the Vale of Arryn attack the knights in broad daylight.

We still need alliances. The Kingdoms of Westeros fought each other even before Aegon the Conquer. I have to break vassalage now or I'll lose Casterly Rock and it belongs to House Lannister. If Winterfell is rightfully owned by the Starks, or King's Landing is rightfully owned by the Targaryen, Casterly Rock is rightfully owned by the Lannisters. Then borders must now be drawn on the maps. I always wanted Cersei to be a queen, she's a queen in Casterly Rock. And Jaime is a knight in Storm's End", yelled Tywin.

Yennefer laughed aloud, "it took 5 minutes for the lies to start. What did I expect from a place held together by bullshit."

Yennefer looked at Jon, "listen carefully honey. We have a man here who believes what he says is wise. Do you know what Tywin is missing?"

Jon nodded, "I listen to you Yen'. Tywin lacks humanity."

Aegon, Sansa, Yennefer, Rhaegar, Lyanna and Elia laughed aloud, "yeah you know things, Jon."

Tywin growled, "then give Jaime back to me, Rhaegar. Then I'll make him a good king at Casterly Rock. Then I'll send Cersei to Cintra. Then Jaime should no longer be a knight in Storm's End for the fat Storm King. When I'm inhuman sometimes I want Jaime back in Casterly Rock. Then Gregor Clegane will stay away from now on, then I'll lock him away. Then I'll send Pycelle and Qyburn back to the Citadel in Oldtown."

Rhaegar nodded, "ok, fine I'll give Jaime back to you as your heir if you give him the chance to fall in love then he can get married."

Tywin nodded, "it's Okay."

Jon smiled, "I love this woman."

Yennefer laughed.

"It makes you evil when you want to shed a bloodbath at Westerosi, Tywin Lannister! Myrcella is a good girl, Tommen is a good boy and Joffrey makes every effort in life and wants to be a king. I think Rhaegar was still born in Westeros. Then dissolve vassalage, then you need a standing army in Casterly Rock. Rhaegar is a human like you! It makes you evil when you want to marry off your children against their will! The Lannisters spent all the gold at an exorbitant price!

You slaughtered House Reyne, Lord Tywin Lannister! You! You! You! You all alone! Yes, then vassalage must be dissolved immediately in all kingdoms. Then borders have to be set on the cards.

Do you want Jaime back as your heir? Then you have to give him the chance to fall in love. And do you think Cersei will be a good queen in Casterly Rock? What makes a good king or Queen, Tywin Lannister? Tell me, I want to know. Tell me and Jon how the procedure works."

Tywin growled like a lion, "I know the answer. Yes, I can't fight against Jon and you. Well done Jon. You found a wonderful woman there. I'm powerless against you, Jon."

Yennefer and Jon looked at each other and they both grinned, "very wise answer, Lord Tywin."

"Yennefer. This is Sansa and Rhaenys", said Daenerys, Lyanna and Elia.

"We heard so much from Yennefer of Vengerberg and wanted to see this wicked witch Jon sleeps with. Benjen, Will and Jeor Mormont cheered over Jon who brings resources from strange worlds to the wall. Jeor Mormont calls Jon a hero of the Night's Watch and gave him Longclaw when he saved his life from a revenant. We have seen cruel things in Westeros since we left our homes. We met Daenerys, a Witcher and a Child of Surprise on Dragonstone. These three spoke of a sorceress who travels with Jon to get support. When Ciri opened magical portals for us, we saw this new world. Robb, Aegon and we haven't seen Jon in years and suddenly it was said he was in another world. Yes, we should have taken care of him more often", said Sansa and Rhaenys.

Yennefer laughed out loud, "Yennefer Stark-Vengerberg. I'll show you two brats right away what this wicked witch is capable of.

You can be very proud of Jon. King Foltest of Temeria was the first monarch in my world to step down as king and make elections in Temeria possible, he is the first Warden to be elected by the peoples of my world. King Virfuril of Aedirn followed suit and was elected Warden of Aedirn by the people. Elections are already coming in my world. Nilfgaard breaks, the people choose their own leader and Emhyr var Emreis is powerless. The people in my world cheer Jon loudly. The jubilation extends from Nilfgaard to the northern kingdoms of my world. People cheer Lyanna Stark's son. They call him Savior of Worlds, empires bow their knees to Jon. Evil people are powerless against Jon. Wars stop across the board in two worlds. Jon brought justice and order, the races and nations choose their leaders and live in prosperity together.

Elves, gnomes, dwarves and humans cheer loudly to Jon, who unites them in times of peace and independence they say he knows what's right.

He told me that you two forgot him. Oh, Your Highnesses, is Robb Stark already ruining the north? Oh Jon is a married man we got married in Vengerberg six months ago. Ciri, Geralt, Daenerys, Rhaegar, Lyanna, Rhaella and Triss were also there. I've seen tyrants. I've seen terrible things in my life. I met Daenerys, Geralt and Ciri at Sodden Hill. I met Jon for the first time north of the wall, he was tired of fighting. I met Lyanna, Rhaegar, Elia for the first time, in Harrenhal with Jon. Sansa, Rhaenys, then you forgot about Jon. Foltest of Temeria is a friend of Jon, he gives him good steel for the Night's Watch. Ah, Rhaenys the whore queen in the north and Sansa the whore queen in King's Landing", said Yennefer.

Elia laughed out loud, "I envy Lyanna, I would like you to be my daughter-in-law too. Such a strong woman."

Three sisters: Rhaenys, Sansa and Yennefer

Sansa looked wide-eyed, "you, Rhaenys and I are similar, Yen. Like sisters. There are men and women who are capable of cruel deeds. This world just sucks like yours", said Rhaenys and Sansa.

Lyanna, Elia, Yennefer nodded, "you're right. There are people who enjoy the suffering of others."

Elia and Lyanna nodded, "What Yennefer is talking about is that damage comes up even in times of independence, that is vassalism and that vassal oath sucks."

Tywin nodded, "I'm just a feudal lord like Rickard or Jon Arryn, that's all I am. Boltons rebel on their own, too, and who comes next? Umbers? Karstarks? That runs like a red thread. Insurgent vassals are everywhere in Westeros. Yennefer is right about that, there are lying vassals in her world too. Wheels of power are also in her world."

Yennefer nodded, "that's what I'm talking about, how far does loyalty go to a feudal lord, Tywin is a feudal lord, Eddard and Rickard are. Damage comes up, Sansa, right before your eyes, tell me how far does loyalty go for a feudal lord or lady? This world and my world are still shitty where everyone wants power, including vassals. These are worlds where you can die if you do something wrong. Jon doesn't want to be king, he says it openly. He's not a bastard, Geralt is happy to have a companion in the fight against monsters, believe me, Geralt just wants friends he can join. You're wrong, Sansa, if you think Jon is power. You and I get into real trouble if you turn Jon into a game ball. And you don't want to mess with me, Sansa. Girl, I see that when you lie, I see that very clearly. I smell lies a thousand miles against the wind. You are a grown woman and you are queen, then you have to take sides too, Jon is afraid of Robert. You say openly that you like beautiful things because it gives you a feeling to be better than others, I am not saying that you are superficial, I am saying that you also want power, that can be seen very clearly. But now listen carefully to me, you are only human, you are not perfect, I am not perfect, I am mortal too. Don't pretend to be a goddess, miss! You can't turn the shit around as you want, at some point it has to be over. You may survive, but I would survive you. It really needs to be made clear now that Winterfell belongs to the Starks, or Casterly Rock to the Lannisters, or King's Landing to the Targaryen. That means vassals need work now and Winterfell needs a standing army of northerners, which smells very strongly of conscription in the north. Given the size of the north, I would estimate 30,000 northerners in Winterfell to intervene in famine and disease. Oh, Winterfell needs big army barracks, money for that can be shot north. Winterfell urgently needs a standing army, otherwise there will be a bang in the north. The vassals become sovereign rulers in their territories. You can't get the Dreadfort under control, if the Boltons in the north skin people alive they have to be captured, the Boltons are already rebelling of their own accord and a thirst for power. Other vassals could take the Dreadfort in a thirst for power and also rebel against the Starks. Then I would append the lands of the Boltons as a province. But if Roose Bolton legitimizes Ramsey and allows him to marry Miranda, they need work, then Robb gets it all bent so that the Boltons no longer rebel. Military service for a few years or for life is possible. Then you have to deal with a military, titles in an army, leaders, generals. Jon and Geralt have been doing military service with the Night's Watch for a number of years. The independence was given by Rhaegar, he did everything right when he burned the Iron Throne with the Wildfire and he removed Aerys as king. Life goes on, now work is waiting for each of us. Banks are already built from north to south, money is in circulation. You want to be better than others, Sansa. That is also a hunger for power."

"We just have the power to protect those we love", said Sansa and Rhaenys.

Yennefer laughed, "This automatically increases your power over others! You only want me as an advisor because I'm Jon's girlfriend and Daenery's, Jaskier's and Geralt's best friend, at the moment I only have power because of Jon. It will be expensive for you to buy me out of my neutrality. You two have no power over me, I will not love you as queens, I will accept you as queens. Jon has power over me, he gives me so much and I give him something back by now aging normally, you two have no power over Jon, Geralt, Ciri, Daenerys or me. Jon believes in Geralt, Ciri, Daenerys, and me. Jon says he wants Geralt to be his best friend. Geralt and Jon stay neutral. Jon already wields power, he too is already powerful, Geralt and Daenerys are powerful too. I am already powerful.

Sansa, Rhaenys, I'm not what I look like, I was powerful before I got this look. Either you want power or you don't want it. There is always a choice. You want to play a game with me? A choice was stolen from me, I am a sorceress but this was forced on me, I could have become a sorceress of my own accord. If Geralt is a warrior then he could have made his own choice instead he was forced to be a Witcher. Jon is a leader that he can learn without taking an oath. If I had become a bad mother, I would have realized that. I'm not a bad mother, if Geralt wants me to be a foster mother for Ciri then he just has to say that. He and I don't have to have an on / off relationship for that. If Geralt wants Daenerys to share her knowledge with Ciri, he just has to say it. Mine and this world are cruel. Daenerys openly says she wants a little girl and there is Ciri. Geralt conjured something up when he tied Ciri to himself, he already has Ciri. Daenerys and I can choose to be foster mothers for her. Geralt doesn't have to force this in a wish where he uses the wrong words. It's not about what he wanted, it's about what he didn't want. I said that I want a child and there is Ciri. I say I want to age normally because power is not everything in life. And now I age normally, Ciri says she wants to hear Jon's knowledge too. No Sansa, no Rhaenys, Jon and Geralt stay neutral, if you have something to discuss you can speak to Daenerys and me. Jon belongs in Winterfell too, Sansa. Geralt loves Dragonstone and Essos. I love Jon because he doesn't run after me, he tends to avoid me, but only I can make more of Jon. Geralt evades Daenerys sometimes, but he loves her and doesn't cheat on her. That is the difference. Jon sees Daenerys as human, that has to be enough. Why should Jon be submissive to the two of you, me, or Daenerys? He can learn anything, but only through me. You don't show enough empathy for Jon. And Daenerys makes Geralt great. When these worlds met, fate linked Ciri, Daenerys, Geralt, Jon and me.

If you Don't want power you still have to do something with your life. Oberyn is a good example, he doesn't want power, that's why he travels the world, Rhaenys. Your uncle Oberyn knows very well that he would be a terrible politician. And your uncle Brandon loves Ashara, Sansa, you can't blame him for that. He lives in Dorne.

And Oberyn takes care of his children, nothing more can be expected. There are no bastards. Lyanna is not power, Jon is not power, I am not power. Ciri is not power.

Sansa's and Rhaenys's uncles: Oberyn Martell and Brandon Stark. Brandon never loved Catelyn.

Jon, go outside for a moment, I have something to say to the two bitches. Jon is Jon Stark through Lyanna. Girls, think. Do you want to sit idle for a lifetime? Do you want to twiddle your thumbs and get fat? You can live another seventy years! What is your incentive in life? What do you want to achieve. Jon doesn't want to be king or inherit Winterfell, he says it openly, he works for money, he gets honors from others, he hunts monsters. You both have to take Jon as he is. Yeah, he doesn't want to be a king, he doesn't want to commit incest, and that's really cool, it makes Jon smarter than the two of you together. Either Jon is part of your family or not, if he's a part you must treat him sensibly. If he's not part of your family then Geralt goes to the wall with Jon, he won't swear the oath and you won't see him for years. You're the older one, Rhaenys. Where is your heart, where is your love? Should I call you a bad queen in the north? Do you want that? If you don't do anything with your life, you two are losers and spoiled brats. Come on, show me how smart and strong you are. Jon would love me too if I was still disfigured. Be careful, you two brats. I eat brats like you for breakfast. What Makes a Good King or Queen? What is wisdom? Come on, this is a test. Have you two ever been little birds or worms? Yes, the three of us are similar but you have to recognize that now. Show me the feminist heroine in you. Haha, yes Daenerys and I have a thing for white wolfes. Daenerys and I are the black wolves because Jon and Geralt are monster hunters. The more successful Jon is in life, the harder I want to fuck with him. Geralt says he wants Jon's friendship and he calls Jon his leader. Geralt says that Jon should share his knowledge with Ciri, Jon knows what is right but there is more, much more possible.

The more successful Geralt is, the harder Daenerys wants to feel him in her cunt. Do you know why? Daenerys and I are chaos, and only Geralt gets Daenerys tamed and only Jon gets me tamed. Geralt, Ciri and I can also teach Jon magical skills, mastering fire and ice. If he wants that, Jon can become anything. I find a magical gateway in Jon. He already has Ghost. Jon is also a white wolf. Do you want to rule fire and ice, Jon? Geralt can teach you sword skills from a Witcher. Jon can go hunting monsters with Geralt in my world too. Ciri wants to be like Jon, Geralt, Daenerys and me, and not like you two bitches! Come on, how big is your heart, Rhaenys Stark, Rhaenys Nymeros Martell, Rhaenys Targaryen! Do the names make you horny? Then Robb should ram his cock up your fat ass until you whimper for mercy! Do you think it's funny to deport someone? How do you think Jon feels you two bitches? Maybe you two bitches should go to the wall and swear the oath."

Rhaenys snorted.

Jon smiled, "Magic is cool."

Geralt patted his shoulder, "Sword training starts tomorrow."

"Daenerys and I suck", said Yennefer.

Daenerys laughed aloud, "we're just cunning."

Sansa nodded. "Yes Brandon never loved my mother Catelyn."

Rhaenys rubbed her head, "yes, Oberyn knows he would be a terrible politician. Sansa and I ran across Westeros and made more of our lives, traveling north to south helping others. I would never drop Sansa and she wouldn't drop me. Sansa runs away from Petyr Baelish. I ran away from Robert too. Sansa and I have been through a lot of shit. We often had nervous breakdowns and we gave each other strength.

I love her brother Robb, she loves my brother Aegon, and Jon is my brother too, I never treated him like a bastard, he rightly called himself Stark. And to Sansa, Jon is a brother too."

Rhaenys and Sansa groaned, "We are not spoiled brats. We are stronger than ever. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. We put a lot of effort into learning. We have earned our power, we wouldn't spend our entire lives in Sunspear or Winterfell. Aegon and Robb are strong kings. We never wanted to learn a Game of Thrones, but we wanted to make more of our lives. We've seen the shit and ugliness of the continent. I'm a good queen in the north and Sansa is a good queen in King's Landing. Sansa and I help women who are abused and raped by their husbands. Sansa sells her own knitted clothes in the capital and I design jewelry, we make money too. Sansa and I brought prosperity to the north and Dorne. I've earned the Crown of the North, I know all about the North and Dorne, and I love Winterfell, King's Landing, and Sunspear alike. Sansa made the capital a better city."

Rhaenys shook her head, "I'm not a bad sister, I never have been. Families are complicated. I give a shit about the name Stark, Martell or Targaryen when I know Jon is happy it's just names.

I'm happy that you two found each other. He is Jon Stark. Aegon and I love Jon. Robb loves Jon. Sansa loves Jon. We would never want him to suffer. Sansa and I would never want Jon to hate us, we're trying to do the best we can, we just want peace like you. Kings and queens are never safe, we have to end this. Robert chose Eddard to be his brother, what should I do Yen. Stannis and Renly protect Jon too. I wouldn't live in Sunspear all my life either, I love Robb. Aegon loves Sansa more than anything. I would never make Robb a king consort. Before that happens, I would resign as Queen. I don't give a fuck about the Realm, i'm human too. Robert called Elia an evil snake and threatens everyone. He hit Lyanna and Cersei. Ciri is so wonderful, we can change your world too, Yennefer. I've seen Kaer Morhen too, Robb and I have ridden through your world. You and Sansa are my sisters, I just want to be strong for Jon like you and Sansa. We need elections, Rhaegar was elected Warden of King's Landing by the people in the capital. We need new offices in the Kingdoms. As Tywin says, the name lasts for a thousand years, if there is a baby boom then the children don't automatically have to become kings and queens, we can create new jobs for heirs. Even if Jaime and Brienne have children together, the children don't automatically have to be kings. Robb and I hardly argue, Sansa and Aegon hardly argue. We do our best, we love Jon and he can always come to us. We are happy that Ciri calls Geralt, Jaskier and Jon father and Daenerys and you mother. Ciri is so wonderful."

Yennefer laughed aloud, "That wouldn't have been justified if you had treated Jon like a bastard! He's Jon Stark, this may or may not suit you two, bitches."

Sansa and Rhaenys huffed, "We are not bitches."

Tywin nodded. "That would be best when kings and queens end."

Yennefer smiled, "ah ok. But families can be great together. Robert is unfaithful, Rhaenys. Lyanna is Eddard's sister.

He just wants to bang Lyanna and the next day he would be gone, he was just fascinated by the idea of ​​marrying Lyanna. You see Robert's character, he hits women when something doesn't suit him. Either you have a decent relationship with no quarrels over small things, or you leave it if you are unable to have a relationship. Jon doesn't hate you. Come back inside Jon. It is very clear, Sansa, you either want Baelish in your service or you don't, he is breaking families apart in his greed for power. Give him politics in Riverrun and you're rid of him."

Sansa nodded, "I don't want Baelish."

Elia smiled, "Oberyn knows that he would be a cruel politician, Rhae. Lyanna, Rhaegar and I haven't had sex in ages."

Rhaenys and Sansa groaned, "Ok, we have to put up with that. Ok, right, we don't want to be inactive. That would make us losers in life."

Yennefer nodded, "Yes that would make you losers."

Lyanna, Elia, Kevan, Rhaegar, and Tywin nodded, "Yes, that smells like conscription. Military service for a few years or for life is possible."

Sansa and Rhaenys nodded, "we got it. Yes then we all have to dissolve the vassalage. House Stark is not going to hand over Winterfell."

Yennefer looked at them.

"An oath can mean doom. Rhaenys and you are the sisters I never had, Sansa. Yes we are similar. It's not difficult for me to fall in love with Jon either. The problem is, Jon must want more than just defeat the Night King. He knows things and he can learn anything and he already sees it. Elia and Lyanna are the mothers I never had when I was a kid. It's nice to see how happy Jon is in the fact that he got the name Stark from Lyanna and he's not a bastard, he never was. Aegon, Jon and Robb are brothers for Geralt, I'm all the more happy that he finally fell in love with Daenerys. Ciri is happy. Ciri can achieve something great in these two worlds, these worlds are very similar. Ciri loves Westeros and Essos. We can make this continent, Essos and my world so great, create a better future. Tywin is right, if you want my advice I'll give you that, but then you have to listen to me, rulers listen to their advisors Sansa. I give Rhaenys as queen in the North my advice, no problem, but not for free! I want money Sansa. That crown from King's Landing gives you no power, Sansa. That gives you no power over me. A crown can break. I will not love you as a queen, I will accept you as a queen. Each of us learns our whole life. If you live a quiet life as a queen, I will call you a bad queen, because then you are no better than Robert Baratheon, as a Storm King. Oh you want my advice. Then we look each other in the eye and we agree that we need to talk about money. I don't give advice for free. I've seen so many bad kings and queens who didn't care about my advice because they enjoyed the power that came with me. Who tells me you're not such a ruler too, Sansa? A feminist heroine has visions, tell me about your vision. Maybe I can relate to it. I've already stopped counting how many bad monarchs I've seen. True to the motto: Good advice is expensive, Sansa. I hold out my hand, if you want me as an advisor you have to pay me. Yes, one doesn't talk about money, but we have to do that briefly. Aegon is a good and strong king, and he loves you with all his heart. I love Jon more than anything. Oh it will be expensive for you two to bring me into your service and alliance. Sansa, Rhaenys listen carefully, Jon and Geralt remain neutral. I can also stay neutral, if you want me you have to offer me a lot. I will not love Rhaenys and you as queens, I will accept you both, Sansa. When I see that you start a project to change the continent I will support you. What are you offering me to give up my neutrality, Rhaenys, Sansa. What does Catelyn offer me to help her daughter as a counselor? I know my worth, what am I worth to you two? I don't give advice for free, I've seen so many bad monarchs. I think the currency was gold dragons, right? I do not give advice for under 500 gold dragons every month when I also pay taxes."

Tywin and Kevan smiled, "yes, because advice usually costs money, it is not for free. I don't want to talk my mouth lint and nobody listens to me. Yes, it is easy to become a bad king or queen. My brother Kevan and I pay you every month, Yennefer", said Kevan and Tywin.

Sansa and Rhaenys nodded, "We deduct the taxes. the taxes are used for schools, roads, the kingsroad has to be expanded. The capital is getting cleaner. Winterfell needs to get cleaner and healthier. 500 gold dragons every month for you. That's the currency. We all offer you a career. I like money too, Rhaenys likes it too. I'm better than Robert Baratheon. Rhaenys is better than Robert. Aegon, Rhaenys, Rhaegar, Tywin, Lyanna, Elia and I pay best in Westeros. Rhaenys and Robb give you rooms in Winterfell and Aegon and I give you money, work and rooms in the Red Keep. I'm building a political council with Lyanna and Elia, I could use you Yen. Your qualifications are great, I will pay you well. I pay you. Rhaegar, Aegon, Lyanna, Elia and I are making new laws. Politics as competition. We pay you every month, Yen. Jon and Geralt get money from Rhaegar, Rickard, Eddard, Robb and Aegon every month. Jaskier is in Highgarden. Olenna and Margaery are fascinated by him as a bard. Your jobs are in Casterly Rock, the Crownlands and the north, King's Landing and Winterfell."

Yennefer looked at with wide eyes, "ah a career, all right. Politics as a competition? That's cool, I'll join in, I'll join this council. Ok I can travel through magical portals, I come to the capital when Jon and Geralt go back north and Daenerys sails back to Essos. Then Ciri, Tissaia and I have to think about expanding the portals. A career, you made it up nicely, you two bitches. Have you studied my path in life?"

Rhaenys and Sansa laughed, "If it works."

Yennefer laughed out loud, "Attention." Daenerys laughed out loud, "Oh that was Geralt, Ciri and me, we told them about your path."

Yennefer groaned, "Ah ok. Well done Ciri. My parents abused me when I was a kid. I was disfigured when I was a kid. I didn't have anything when I was little, I was treated like a pig. Jon gave me back that choice that was stolen from me."

Lyanna and Elia looked at her, "then be happy that Ciri has such great opportunities now. Be happy that Geralt fell in love."

Dany barked at Sansa and Rhaenys, "Geralt and Jon remain neutral. Are you deaf in both of your ears or just stupid?"

Yennefer nodded, "I'm happy about that. I am happy that Ciri has a foster father in Jon and Geralt and a foster mother in Daenerys. Like Jon, Jaskier, Geralt, Daenerys, I want Ciri to be fine. Emhyr is a monster. Yes, I have to put up with the fact that I'm shit and be manipulative. But then you have to put up with the fact that you suck too, Daenerys."

Daenerys nodded, "he's a monster. Yeah, I'm a bitch sometimes, I admit it. But we love Ciri. Ciri doesn't want to experience chaos or on / off relationships, she wants to live a life."

Yennefer groaned, "I know."

Rhaenys smiled, "Oh you get money. It would be so nice if you, as Jon's great love, were mine and Sansa's advisors. I am ready to pay a lot of money for you."

Aegon smiled, "Jon, Robb and Geralt are my brothers."

Tywin nodded, "Yennefer is right. I can't turn Myrcella into a bastard, I can't. Yes, you must want something more than just defeating the undead, Jon. You have to kick yourself in the ass if you want to achieve more in life. Yes, when Myrcella isn't a bastard then neither are you, you're a Stark through Lyanna, you're Jon Stark. Yes, the continent has potential. We can change all this, this is possible. New titles, claims, elections can be created. The Lannister fleet and I join you on the expedition to Valyria. I'm looking for Brightroar. The Lannister fleet and Targaryen fleet sail together, Jon. We get valyrian steel. Expeditions to Valyria to get steel can be planned when we attack the undead together. We need more valyrian steel. Then we have to take care of safety if we should meet stone people, I will definitely not sleep on Valyria overnight. Southern armies can be mobilized for the cold, but I need time for that. It's okay with me if the Wildlings stay in the north as long as they don't start looting south of the wall. Then Wildlings should also be allowed to come to the capital, no problem for me, they should get food and supplies. They can come back south of the wall during long winters. Nobody wants to get sick because of winters or the cold. Then I want to hear from Ciri what Emhyr is capable of, then I want to hear about the cruelty of this tyrant. Myrcella, like you, works for honor and money. I support you on the expedition to Valyria to get valyrian steel to fight the revenants, I know the blacksmith in Essos."

Yennefer smiled, "I'm sending Ciri and Myrcella to you, Tywin. The wall does not fall Tywin. There is magic buried there to stop the Night King. Only dragons can destroy the wall. The sorceresses strengthen the protective magic of the wall. That's what Triss, Tissaia and I do. When we are stronger we hunt the Night King to the wall, all armies of Westeros against the undead. A great story. Yes, Lyanna and Elia are right, at first it doesn't matter whether there is fair rule, at some point royalty has to come to an end, Sansa. A name remains even if there are no longer kings and queens. Now we all take a deep breath, because we have enough to do for the future, we are now fundamentally changing something. We will ensure justice now, and then we have to change continents. I do not serve a queen who makes a quiet life. You and Aegon are political geniuses in King's Landing, fine, start making a change, rights for Lowborn, there's so much to do, Sansa. Lyanna, Rhaegar and Elia are already making new laws."

Aegon and Sansa nodded, "yes, we will change this continent colossally in the near future."

Tywin and Rhaegar nodded, "Yes the kingdoms are independent and the Iron Throne may be gone, but it's too easy to become a bad king or queen. You cannot rule with love, it is impossible that makes others jealous. This is still a shitty world where everyone wants power. That means there has to be an end to kings and queens at some point. Come on Rhaegar, let's get drunk", said Tywin and Kevan.

Rhaegar nodded, "That's a good idea. I can't stand Lyanna's, Cersei's and Elia's cackling any longer."

Tywin and Kevan laughed aloud. Cersei, Lyanna and Elia looked at him, "Be careful Rhaegar Targaryen!"

Sansa, Aegon, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Myrcella, Jon, Geralt, Ciri, Cersei, Yennefer laughed aloud, "we could get used to this atmosphere."

Aegon, Jon and Rhaegar nodded, "we have time, Tywin."

Yennefer smiled and kissed Jon, "just a cunning sorceress", said Jon.

She smiled, "oh yeah. I may be powerful, but in the end I'm just cunning, nothing more. I am not a queen or a princess. If Elia is Princess Elia and Lyanna is Lady Lyanna, I am Lady Yennefer, but nothing more. Yes be Queen Sansa, at some point there has to be an end to kings and queens, remember that. You're too tight-knit there Sansa, you have to widen your view of things. You're in your early twenties girl. I am an old woman, Sansa. I age normally now, live another seventy years and die with Jon. I've seen more than you can ever imagine. Aegon loves you. My head was in chaos and only Jon kept me in check. Even Geralt was hardly able to do that. You have no idea Sansa what Emhyr var Emreis is capable of, a tyrant who uses an ax and a whip to compel allegiance. This man is capable of anything, he would marry Ciri to control Cintra, he would marry his own child. When Emhyr var Emreis finds out that Ciri is in another world he will try everything to get a united continent and three dragons. And then Tywin is dead too. Emhyr var Emreis knows no mercy. He'll kill you too, Sansa. He kills everyone and dances on the bodies of his enemies. Emhyr var Emreis will have everyone from Robert Baratheon to Eddard Stark killed. He's going to kill Cersei, Myrcella, Starks, Martells, Arryns, he just has to let the armies emerge if we don't have any more strength. You wanted a crown, a handsome prince. You were never a little bird. You have already seen bad people. You know power games, a Game of Thrones, lies, you've worked for your crown, you've earned it, but history knows really evil people who dream of world domination. These people don't stop at you either, Sansa. These people don't stop in front of Robert Baratheon, who can also be assassinated. Nor do these people stop before Tywin, who may drink poisoned wine the next evening. These people enjoy dancing on dead bodies. These people tell Tywin what he wants to hear and the next moment he's dead. Emhyr var Emreis only has to send the armies of the Empire and Tywin would be dead if he faced him alone in battle. Emhyr var Emreis is greedy for power, a bad father for Ciri, a tyrant. I'm not saying Emhyr should die, he's a tragic figure. He should just apologize to Ciri. Emhyr, Tywin and Rhaegar could still be best friends, the three of them are similar. Emhyr may suck but is a good leader for an empire, which means that at some point there has to be an end to kings and queens. It is always said that kings and queens are to blame when wars, famine or disease come. The people in the streets must choose their own leaders, not vassals appoint a king. Cruelty? It can be a lot, Sansa. I've made questionable decisions too, I'm a murderer too, and I can cope with that. But no more kings, queens or tyrants. And it is always the fault of the kings and queens because they sit in their castles, have warm asses and the population gets sick because the hygiene is not right. Winterfell, Karhold, Sunspear are dirty, Sansa. You can write pig in the dirt. It may be that Rhaenys and you are good queens, but vassals also want to have more power one day. It's very simple, the king and queen have to pull together. You must make an effort in your relationship and rule as monarchs. Otherwise you don't need to have a relationship if you think there will be kings or queens in the future. I am very happy that Geralt finally shows love and has his true love in Daenerys. But Ciri, Dany and I want Jon and Geralt to be neutral about wars."

Sansa and Rhaenys groaned, "we got it."

Jon, Geralt, Dany smiled, "you are the best.

Jon smiled, "I love you", she smiled, "I love you."

Tywin and Rhaegar agreed, "these types of people and tyrants have no friends or mercy. No more kings and queens in the near future, we are creating new offices.

They are two steps ahead of us, which means we have to hit them with weapons, which they don't have. Tyrants don't have time, an empire must grow or die. And this downfall must be our goal. An empire needs armies and an economy, if one of the two pillars breaks, the other pillar cannot compensate for it. Varys will poison the economy to the core, and we will bring Emhyr var Emreis with all armies directly to Westeros where he is most vulnerable. Then we will defeat him in battle."

Rhaenys, Sansa, Lyanna, Elia, Daenerys, Tywin and Rhaegar groaned, "Yes tyrants are terrible. Yes then we have to destabilize him until he makes mistakes. We're sending Varys to Nilfgaard to overthrow the empire. Then the empire must be disbanded when we have him on the battlefield. Then the conquered territories must be returned to the point of sovereignty. Then we have to increase the number of armies immediately, then we will immediately mobilize from north to south when he soon finds out that Ciri is gone. Then he has to kneel so that an empire can be overthrown. Then the tyrant must be defeated in battle. Then fighting is important", said Sansa.

Yennefer nodded, "That's it."

Sansa nodded and kissed Aegon, "and I love my strong king."

Lyanna cheered like a cheerleader, "yeah Jon. Yeah Yen. This is my girl. This is my boy."

Daenerys, Rhaenys, Lyanna, Elia, Sansa and Yennefer gave each other high five and patted each other on the buttocks.

#yennefer and jon #anya chalotra #charles dance #tywin lannister #emperor emhyr #aegon and sansa #rhaenys and robb #queen sansa targaryen #emilia clarke #henry cavill

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday

I toooootally didn’t forget that today was Wednesday! But it’s STILL Weds for another 2 hours where I am, which means you get a snip! I started rereading (Im)Perfect Strangers today so have a snip from the Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria ‘verse.

“Mr. Zoltan,” Boussy tugged on the dwarf’s clothing one evening in the public dining hall. Roche was busy bullying Fenn into letting Imadia look at his broken wrist, because the idiot kept trying to use it, but he saw the way everyone in the area turned at least partial attention towards the boy. It was, after all, less common for Boussy to initiate conversations, especially in public.

“What can I do for you, Wee Lad?” Zoltan asked, smiling behind his bushy beard.

“How come dwarves hate elves?” Boussy asked innocently, probably unaware of the immediate tension that spread across the room. There were the dwarves within hearing distance, of course – Zoltan, Yarpen, and Skalen, most notably – but there were also several elves, because Iorveth had followed Imadia and Rinn was sitting next to Anais. In other words, this could end badly.

“Ah,” Zoltan coughed. “Well, the easiest answer is because elves hate dwarves.”

“They do?” Boussy tilted his head.

“Magda said,” Anais interrupted loudly, “that it’s cause elves were like humans before humans were here.”

That certainly didn’t go over well with the elves present, though Zoltan nodded.

“She’s not wrong, though I wouldn’t, uh, use those words, exactly.”

“What does that mean?” Boussy asked, frowning down at his hands.

“Well, uh…” Zoltan cleared his throat, glancing around quickly to search for either support or an escape.

Roche would love to help, but honestly, he knew nothing about the history between elves and dwarves. And he was kind of curious, though very on edge. There were an awful lot of people around who might have personal opinions about that history, and that tended to get messy.

Skalen Burdon, the alderman’s nephew, ducked his head, pointedly not making eye contact with Zoltan, but Yarpen Zigrin seemed to take pity on him.

“Elves were the conquerors of the continent before humans came along and did it better,” Yarpen said bluntly, and Roche winced, practically able to feel the offense coming from Iorveth.

“Excuse you,” Iorveth’s voice was snippy. “We spread culture across the continent.”

“Yeah, by conquering people,” Yarpen glared at him. “Bah, are you even old enough to remember?”

Now Roche was the one frowning. Wasn’t Iorveth like… really old?

“Not many are,” Imadia said gravely, somehow spreading a sense of calm. “The times Yarpen speaks of started long before the Conjunction of the Spheres. And yes,” she held up a hand in Iorveth’s face, “you are too young. When you were born, elves already ruled the continent, though not without conflict.”

Zoltan snorted, “that’s one way to put it. Elves tried – and failed – to conquer Mahakam.”

“Wait, really?” Thirteen blurted out, blinking in surprise. “But like – even Foltest didn’t really conquer Mahakam. And everyone said he was mad to even try!”

“No, he didn’t.” Yarpen and Zoltan both looked smug.

Roche decidedly kept his mouth shut. There was no need to remind people that he’d been part of that campaign.

“Plenty o’ other places they did succeed in conquering, though. Just look at Loc Muinne!”

Iorveth stiffened. The matter of the extinction of the Vrans was a complicated one, and Iorveth had personal connections to Loc Muinne’s history. It was probably best to move on from this quickly.

“So what about dwarves?” Roche asked.

“What about us?” Zoltan asked, eyeing Iorveth in a way that meant he too was aware of why Roche was changing the subject.

“Well, humans came and conquered. Elves came and conquered. Did dwarves ever? Or uh, other species before the Conjunction?”

“Not really,” Zoltan shrugged. “Not to say that there weren’t some who tried – I’ve no doubt every species has at least some of those. But as a species, we dwarves live in the mountains, which many other species find… inhospitable. Not all of them, though! Dwarves and gnomes have always gotten along well enough.”

“Wait, but we live in a mountain,” Anais pouted.

“Ah, but remember,” Pillow Tits smiled kindly at her, “humans can’t live without sunlight. So we can live in mountains, but we need to return to the surface fairly regularly or our health will start to decay.”

“But dwarves don’t?” Boussy asked.

Zoltan shook his head. “Not really. I mean, there are effects on vision if you don’t experience sunlight fairly regularly. But I think maybe that came later – that we adjusted to sunlight later, and that’s why we can lose that, if we stay under the mountains for too long. Sunlight hurts if you’ve been out of it for too long.”

“Hmm, that’s an interesting theory,” Imadia tapped her finger against her chin and Iorveth rolled his eye. “Dwarves came from stone, yes? I’ve heard some say that you’re eternal like stone as well, but – well, I think that was more poetic than accurate.”

“Mmm, sort of,” Skalen grunted. “I dunno anything about the pre-Conjunction stuff, but when dwarves die, we return to the stone. You can visit our catacombs here, in fact. They’re quite something, I must say.”

“Full of wraiths,” Geralt grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking body had a wraith, pretty much.”

Roche blinked. What had Geralt been doing with the bodies in the Vergen Catacombs and why?

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #don't cry for me temeria #the witcher #WiP Wednesday

[bard-llama]

Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria Snips

I asked and y’all said you’d like to see some random snips in the (Im)Perfect Strangers universe, so...

When I say random, I do mean random. I’m still super stuck on the main story (maybe I should just trash what I have and start over idk), but there’s a LOT of side stories that I’ve started for this ‘verse, so... here you go. Did I mention this is gonna be long? ‘cause yeah, it really, really is, tho I’ve saved the longest WiPs for last.

Note: Most of these are not spoilery really, but I will note when there are specific spoilers for the main storyline of (Im)Perfect Strangers

This first one is kinda random politics, but like... there’s a LOT that goes into trying to restructure a society to be more equitable. And not everyone is gonna be happy about all that needs done.

The difficult thing about building a kingdom where all species were equal was actually doing the building. Which would be so much easier if they were starting from scratch, actually. Sure, the task of starting such a huge project was daunting, but Iorveth stood by the idea that at least everything would intentionally be theirs.

Instead, they were stuck building on top of everything that came before and all that it meant.

“On the matter of education,” one stuffy council member began, “Saskia has convinced me that a national education curriculum with room for regional specifics and changes would be best. But I just cannot get behind the idea of actual schools being nationalized. Neighborhood schools are part of our culture! It helps kids become familiar with their own community! Opening these schools up to kids from other communities is counterproductive.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Vernon shrugged next to Iorveth and Iorveth saw red.

“Except,” he grit out, “that we aren’t starting from scratch and creating neighborhoods where everyone lives together. Instead, we’re working with the fact that dwarves mostly live amongst dwarves and humans live amongst humans and elves live amongst elves. If they don’t get out of their neighborhood community, then they’ll never learn about each other or interact with each other much.”

Saskia nodded and part of Iorveth relaxed. At least she understood, even if Vernon didn’t. Hopefully, it was just that Vernon didn’t know.

“Iorveth is right,” Saskia said and all eyes turned to her. “The current neighborhood schools are also community-funded, which means that the humans in the human enclave, for instance, have less funds than a school in the Craftsman Quarter, which is predominantly dwarven and has more wealth due to selling those crafts in the market.”

“So what do you suggest?” another council member sniffed haughtily. “Are we all to move until neighborhoods are intermingled? That will likely just lead to outbreaks of violence, not understanding.”

“You’re right, that’s not something we can fix easily. I certainly have no wish to ask dwarves who have been living in their homes for centuries to move to make room for other species. However, I do think it is reasonable that we expand neighborhoods and open new housing up to other species. Additionally, most children’s exposure to other species will likely come from their schooling, so having open schools is essential. But I don’t think that’s enough. Letting a parent choose to send their child to the poor human school or the wealthy dwarven school isn’t a fair choice – and won’t build inclusion on a larger scale. Instead, I think we need to be intentional about placing students in classrooms and in ensuring that teachers have adequate training to serve the needs of all students, whether they be human, dwarven, elven, or something else.”

There was a thoughtful hum from somewhere around the table as everyone processed Saskia’s words.

“Okay,” Vernon nodded, agreeing with Saskia, and Iorveth was beyond relieved that this wasn’t going to end up being a fight between them. “But how? How do we actually do that? And on what scale? If we try to do that with all of Vergen – or all of the Free Pontar Valley – now, we’ll just be interrupting the children’s education. Perhaps we should try this with a specific neighborhood school first and test the model?”

“I disagree,” the sorceress said and for possibly the first time ever, Iorveth felt a smidgeon of affection for a mage. “Their education has already been disrupted. I think the better way to respect their experiences is to make sure they are receiving support as we enact these changes. Because all of the children in Vergen have experienced this interruption, not just one neighborhood. Isn’t it better to explain what we’re doing and why as we provide intermediary teaching and support? And then when we roll out the changes, we can be confident that they reflect the children’s needs.”

“Yeah, but again, how do we do that?” another council member echoed Vernon’s words.

“For a start,” Iorveth began, voice icy. Too icy, based on Saskia’s hidden wince. Oops? “We can set up a central education fund for all schools, giving them enough funding to put them on equal grounds. Which means the poorer schools will need more than the richer ones to make up the difference.”

“But that’s unfair,” someone said and Iorveth glared at them.

“Really? More unfair than living with the decisions made by city founders centuries ago that leave them in abject poverty with an underfunded school and shit teachers?”

Saskia cleared her throat. “Equity,” she said firmly. “Our aim for this new realm is equity for all. Equity does not mean equality – it does not mean an even distribution of resources, the same thing for everyone. Instead, equity means the same outcomes for everyone, even if getting them to that outcome takes more funds and resources.”

She looked around the table, meeting people’s eyes, and Iorveth watched as most of the council muttered and moaned, but didn’t speak up against her decree. Good.

“Now, for student placements,” Saskia began, “I have a few ideas, but I imagine the teachers in our midst have perspectives that would be beneficial to this discussion. That is why council meetings are open to everyone – none of us know everything. But when we encourage people to share their perspectives and expertise with us, it helps us minimize mistakes and ensure we are thinking of everything.”

The head of the teacher’s guild inclined their head towards Saskia when she gestured for them to take the floor. “Thank you. We do have a few possible ideas, but I think the first thing we need to establish is what we consider most important for the students? Is it stability? Consistency? Exposure? Shared experiences? Whatever we choose will greatly affect our decisions, so I believe we should start here.”

One human snorted at the dwarf, frowning at them. “Obviously the quality of education is the most important!”

Iorveth rolled his eye. “Obviously. But what they’re saying is that which option we prioritize for students will affect how we go about doing this.”

“In such a time of change, surely stability is most important?”

“Same old, same old?” Vernon asked, rubbing his chin in thought. “But when that ‘same old’ is built on racial segregation and inequal funding, is that really what we want?”

Something inside Iorveth unclenched. Vernon did understand. Even if they didn’t always agree with each other’s ideas, Vernon knew how essential it was for Anais and Boussy to unlearn their racism and limit their exposure to more.

And maybe someday soon, the children would stop flinching every time Iorveth walked in the room.

“All right,” Saskia clapped her hands, cutting through the small conversations and grumbling from most of the room. “It would seem this is in need of discussion. Why don’t we start with what we each wish to prioritize and why and perhaps we can come to a consensus?”

More snips under the cut to save your dash

This one is just a random bit, but I need everyone to know that Roche’s tattoo collection includes 2 things: 1) a tramp stamp that says ‘Property of Temeria’ and 2) flowers scattered across his back

Iorveth directed his gaze across Roche’s back where stylistic flowers were inked into his skin. Odd choice for someone who pretty clearly had zero knowledge about plants, but humans did find such things aesthetically pleasing. Only– 

Iorveth blinked and tilted his head. The flowers had dicks in them. What he’d thought were simply artistic petals were, in fact, dicks. Ones that looked just like the soft cock below them, and Iorveth bit back a laugh. What was humanity’s obsession with phalluses? Did they really think the others of their species were impressed by their size?

Well, Iorveth considered, he was rather a fan of the size of Roche’s cock, though he had no idea how it compared to the rest of the species. Surely some of the depictions he’d seen were exaggerated. Right?

This next snip is the next chapter of Earning Your Stripes, so warnings for group sex lol. It’s also before Silas joins the Stripes and Thirteen is the newest addition, but really they’re all getting to know each other (except Fenn and Finch, who came as a package deal). Technically speaking, PT would not be PT yet, but uh... fuck that. Oh, also warning for talk about addiction, specifically to opium.

PT was sorting through his medical supplies while his new team sat somewhat awkwardly around the campfire. They all seemed perfectly nice – well, sort of – but newness had always made PT a little anxious and even though he was happy to follow Commander Roche wherever he chose to lead, these little moments of downtime were just… awkward. Everyone talking a little too quietly – or a little too loudly in Fenn’s case – no one really knowing how they fit together. 

It was stressful, and PT had to resist checking his opium supply again. He had plenty. He knew he had plenty. The king had even personally ensured he had plenty. After all, they might need to subdue a big man like him.

PT hated how much he craved it, hated the way the army had done this to him, had gotten him addicted while he was too catatonic to resist. But Commander Roche had had a point when he’d said “better this than dead”. And it was, but it still chafed badly, this clawing need that never fully went away. And fulfilling it – oh that was even worse, because he loved it, he loved the mindless state it brought him to where the worries of the world ceased to exist.

Sometimes he wished there was another way he could get that. Another way to drive back the blood and gore that threatened to intrude upon his memory any time he was still and quiet.

PT fisted his hands, digging his fingernails into his palm, and forcibly turned his attention back to his companions. Better to wonder about them than to let his thoughts wander.

The newest member of their team, Thirteen, fidgeted in his seat across from PT before apparently coming to a decision and rising to approach their commander.

“Can I–” Thirteen started to ask, biting his lip. Commander Roche looked up at the new kid, scanning over him with an assessing gaze. PT wondered what he was looking for.

“Kneel,” Roche ordered, voice firm, and PT’s legs tensed, ready to drop to his knees with an eagerness that surprised him. But Roche wasn’t talking to him, he was talking to– 

Thirteen obediently knelt on the ground next to Roche, sitting back against his ankles with a sigh. 

At first, PT expected something more to happen. Anything, really. But Thirteen just sat silently next to Roche, absently inking his own inner forearm. The frenetic energy that the newbie had been radiating slowly drained out and Thirteen seemed entirely content to stay where he was, even though his knees couldn’t be comfortable.

PT glanced at the rest of the Blue Stripes, wondering what they thought. No one seemed to be acting as if this was anything out of the ordinary, and PT bit his lip, wondering if he could – if it would be all right – 

Shorty threw something at Finch’s head, and it bounced off, landing on PT’s thigh. He looked down at the coin and then up at Shorty with a raised eyebrow. Fenn reached over and plucked the coin from PT’s leg, the brief touch of hot fingers leaving shudders racing up and down his leg. He bit his lip harder.

Fenn passed the coin to Finch and added one of his own begrudgingly.

“And what is it you’re paying for?” Ves asked

Finch shrugged, “just a bet. I called it right off.”

“And what’s that?” Commander Roche’s deep voice asked and it seemed to echo in PT’s head.

“That you were his sugar daddy,” Finch said bluntly and PT choked, staring at him. “What? It’s not like we’re not all here ‘cause you saved us.”

Commander Roche snorted, “is that you asking for something?”

“Nah, not for me.” Finch’s dark eyes met PT’s at that moment and PT swallowed audibly. 

“Oh?” Commander Roche hummed, and again, his voice seemed to overwhelm PT, making everything else seem insignificant. 

When he looked back, he discovered that Thirteen had finally moved. Now, instead of tattooing himself, his head rested against Commander Roche’s knee and his eyes were shut. Commander Roche’s hand absently stroked over his hair, occasionally tweaking his ear.

PT had never wanted anything more.

He blushed brightly, avoiding Commander Roche’s gaze. It wasn't his place to–

“Come here, PT,” Commander Roche ordered and by the time his mind registered the words, he was already standing in front of his commander. 

“Y-yes, sir?”

Commander Roche tilted his head to the side, indicating the spot beside his seat on a tree stump. The spot unoccupied by Thirteen. “Sit down,” Commander Roche said clearly and PT swallowed, dropping to his knees. 

Even on his knees, he was too tall – too big and awkward and unwieldy – to curl into a position like Thirteen’s, and he very suddenly wanted to cry. 

“Shh,” Commander Roche murmured, reaching out with his free hand to stroke through PT’s hair. “Sit however is comfortable,” he commanded, then dragged PT’s head down to rest on his thigh.

PT shifted, rearranging his legs until he was content not to move, and Commander Roche began to pet his hair gently. His eyes fluttered half-closed, and he felt a calmness descend on him that he hadn’t felt since before – before.

“Well, that’s cute enough to make my teeth ache, but I’m fucking bored,” Fenn complained. PT was only absently aware of it, perceiving it without using any energy to process it.

“You don’t have any teeth,” Shorty pointed out. “Well, not real ones.”

“That’s the point, dumb fuck,” Fenn sighed, then whined piteously, “entertain meeeeeeee.”

Ves rolled her eyes. "Stop being a cunt and start eating one."

Commander Roche snorted, his hand steadily brushing through PT’s hair. 

Fenn grinned, wide and shit-eating. “I am what I eat.”

“Prove it.”

“Make me.”

Finch sighed and got up. Then he gripped Fenn by the hair and dragged him over to Ves. Fenn just laughed, rearranging himself easily so that his upper body rested on Ves’ knees, back straight and knees spread. Finch stepped back and leveled a firm smack on Fenn’s ass, then he grabbed Fenn’s hands and held them tightly at the small of his back. The younger man attempted to muffle his moan against Ves’s codpiece. 

Ves took over Finch’s grip in Fenn’s hair, tugging hard. “You haven’t earned my cunt,” Ves sneered, “but you want to, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Fenn snarled, and Ves smacked him soundly. 

“Don’t you?” she asked again, hissing.

“Nnngh,” Fenn swallowed roughly, then grinned up at her with blood-speckled teeth, “I want to do a lot of things.”

Ves narrowed her eyes, but instead of saying anything, she looked up at Finch, who was standing behind Fenn and blatantly admiring the man’s ass.

“What do you think?” she asked, faux sweet, “should we give him what he wants?”

Finch and Shorty both snorted, and PT felt a flicker of amusement amongst the floating peace. In the time they’d known Ves, she had never given anyone what they wanted unless it was precisely what she wanted.

“I think,” Finch said, playing with his belt, “that we should use him how we want.” He unbuckled the leather and folded it with a snap. “What I want to see is that ass red and claimed.”

Ves smirked at Fenn’s shudder, then she turned to Shorty, the only one of them with an outside partner. “Bring me my bag and then give Fenn a nice attentive audience, hmm? So he knows that we all can see how bad he’s being.”

Shorty licked his lips, scrambling to his feet to follow her orders. Ves plucked at the laces connecting her codpiece to her pants and slowly removed it. 

Fenn licked his lips and immediately stretched his neck forward, only to get slapped away by Ves. 

“I told you, you have to earn it.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a blue and white glass phallus, the size of which had Commander Roche giving a low impressed whistle.

Fenn’s breath was coming shakily, his eyes fixed on Ves’s strap. She brought it down to her cunt and uttered a few low words that magically suctioned the strap-on to her body. 

“Mmm,” she let out a low pleased noise, and then tangled her hand in Fenn’s hair again. “Now,” she dragged his head closer, “I’m going to fuck your throat. You’re going to cry as I force your jaw wide and you’ll like it.”

Fenn moaned, his whole body shuddering. Ves smirked, guiding him down to mouth at the tip of her cock. 

“It’s like getting fucked by the Temerian flag,” Shorty laughed. “Perfect. It’s even blue-striped,” he cackled, pointing at the spiral of dark blue that stood out against the glass.

“I have more, if you need a gag,” Ves threatened pointedly and Shorty snapped his mouth shut, still grinning widely.

Finch snapped his belt in the air and chuckled when Fenn jumped. Ves tightened her hand in Fenn’s hair and dragged him further down on her cock. Fenn moaned, even as he choked and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Finch gave him several moments to get used to Ves’s cock, and then, without warning, brought his belt down across Fenn’s ass.

Fenn jolted forward with a whimper, pushing himself further onto Ves’s cock. Then he arched, pushing his ass out to meet the next blow. 

Ves laughed, “so eager for it, aren’t you, brat?”

Sadly, I have been stuck here for like a fucking year, but... enjoy?

This next one is kinda random in that I don’t even remember why I wanted to write them at a Bath House, but fun fact: Anais and Thirteen are both like cats who HATE water lmao.

“All right, who wants to head to the bath house?” Roche asked, clapping his hands together and pointedly looking at each of the more fragrant members of his team.

“Oooh, me!” Boussy bounced up and down excitedly. 

Anais sighed. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, yes we do,” Roche said firmly. Not least because his scalp had started itching horribly from dried sweat and it was really difficult to scratch with the chaperone in the way.

“Thirteen, if you don’t go to the bath house now, you had better go later!” Ves snarled, “I can smell you from over here!”

“Hey! You don’t know that’s me!” Thirteen defended, across the room from Ves. “It could be – uh,” his voice abruptly faltered as he looked over the two people between him and Ves – Pillow Tits, as a medic, was dedicated to sanitation, plus he somehow always smelled a little like pine; and Silas, who obsessively washed behind his ears any time they had spare water. “Okay fine, it’s me. I’ll go,” Thirteen sighed.

“Anyone else?” Roche glanced around the room. “All right, we’ll be back later.”

Thirteen helped him carouse Anais into her shoes and soon enough, Boussy was leading them to the bath house.

The bath house itself was in an ornately carved stone building that protruded from the side of the mountain, next to the waterfall. It was only one of many bath houses in Vergen, but it was by far the fanciest one and Boussy had declared it his favorite. The entrance itself was grand, and that was nothing compared to the bath itself. Large enough to swim laps in if it were deeper, the main bath took up the majority of the room, and the tiled rim was decorated with carvings in elaborate geometric patterns that continued down each of the stone steps.

The bath house wasn’t too busy this time of day, which made it even more surprising to see Iorveth and Rinn sitting on the steps in the far corner of the bath, Iorveth still with his bandana on.

“Rinn!” Boussy called out happily and only Roche’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from running across the wet tile to her side. Instead, Roche guided them over at a more sedate pace that bore no risk of falling and cracking heads.

“Iorveth, Rinn,” he nodded to them, cocking an eyebrow at Iorveth.

Thirteen and Anais followed after them, though Anais was slightly more constrained in her excitement to see Rinn. Thirteen’s nod of acknowledgement was stiff and Roche abruptly remembered that with Thirteen here, he couldn’t touch Iorveth. He probably shouldn’t even act too familiar at all.

He swallowed sharply and pulled himself together enough to grab Boussy before the kid darted into the water.

“Hold on, kiddo. You gotta wash off first, then you can soak.”

Boussy huffed, “fiiiine.” 

They each soaped up and rinsed off, then slid into the warm bath near Iorveth and Rinn. Boussy let out a loud satisfied sigh and melted into the steps. Roche would have trouble moving him any time soon, but that was fine – he was in no rush himself. 

Anais, on the other hand, started fidgeting after just a few moments. Thirteen, likewise, kept wiggling around as if trying to get comfortable.

Then plan for this one is that Roche whispers to Iorveth all that he wants to do to him. When Anais and Thirteen leave as soon as possible (they REALLY don’t like baths), then Rinn watches over Boussy while they sneak away for a quick nookie lol.

This one is the next chapter of Tutti, which is about Iorveth reclaiming his love of music, specifically of composing.

The melody he’d improvised while messing around haunted Iorveth for the next week. He found himself humming pieces of it while he did his paperwork – the downside to creating a new state – and his fingers itched to curl around his instrument to play it again.

When was the last time he had actually composed something? Iorveth had spent so much time memorizing and sharing all the old elven songs he could that somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten that he could just...make his own. Just because.

It was freeing, to let himself do so. 

As be began to fill imaginary sheet music with notes, Iorveth didn’t play his music for anyone. Not even Vernon. It just… there was something so personal , so cathartic about giving life to the song and he wasn’t ready for anyone else to hear it yet. He might never be.

Just because he wouldn’t play it for Vernon didn’t mean Vernon wasn’t on his mind every second as he composed. If anything, there was perhaps more Vernon in this song than Iorveth. But that was okay. Iorveth was beginning to realize that this song would be a long one, perhaps one that would forever go unfinished, just continuing to expand with each new verse he and Vernon lived through.

This song, he realized, was everything he felt for Vernon in musical form – their startling and joyful beginning, their tumultuous next meeting, and their fierce clashes, but also their soft moments. The way Vernon actively tried to improve and be better was imbedded into the high notes, soaring free, and they were interspersed with Iorveth’s own low notes of confusion, of fear, of hesitation. But together, the two tones blended until they reached a middle ground, one that supported each of them with a strong bass, but still fluttered through the air as they continued to become more.

It was breathtaking, the way the notes rang around his home, the home that Vernon had requested for him.

Don’t fully know where I’m going with this yet, but (SPOILERS) if their relationship isn’t revealed during (Im)Perfect Strangers (I genuinely don’t know if it will be), then it’s gonna happen here. Iorveth writes an entire symphony that’s essentially the story of their love and dedicates it to Roche. (the symphony will probably resemble Across the Stars, ‘cause that song screams romance to me)

Next is Elihal’s story! Well, technically Elihal/Hattori’s story, but the beginning is all Elihal.

Elihal had lived a long, long time. Far too long to give a single solitary fuck what anyone thought they should look like or dress like. They enjoyed living amongst humans, although some distance was always recommended. Most humans just “didn’t get” them. Most didn’t bother trying.

If they were another person, they might’ve blamed that on humanity’s close minded attitudes and views. And true, humanity could be close minded. But even before humans had arrived on this continent, Elihal had been dealing with people who “didn’t get” them for a long, long time.

They were tired of it. They were tired of the elves who scorned them for living amongst humans, for dressing the way they dressed, for “being confusing”. They were tired of the humans who looked at them askance, who happily bought their dresses, but looked down on their outfits, who didn’t bother to try to understand Elihal.

Elihal had lived in Novigrad since long, long before it had been called that. Since long before humans came and conquered, in point of fact. They’d lived in the city at one time, but while they’d had the sense to run from the coming human armies, they’d still found themselves returning. Home was home, after all, and for better or worse, Novigrad (as it was now called) was home.

They were something of a fixture in Novigrad by now – Elihal, the tailor with the weird gender shit. It made them laugh – if those people thought their gender was weird now, their minds would’ve been blown when Elihal was young and still experimenting with what they liked and didn’t.

They smiled to themselves, remembering one particular elf who had ignored everyone’s judging faces and embraced Elihal’s presentation openly. But then, Iorveth – at the time, anyway – had had his own flamboyant presentation style. That was why Iorveth had come to them – they were known for tailoring fine garments and Iorveth was in the market for a very, very fine outfit for some sort of awards ceremony.

Elihal and Iorveth had put their heads together to brainstorm the clothing, even as Iorveth’s “manager” had made concerned/disapproving sounds. Iorveth, meanwhile, was an absolute pleasure to work with – open to bold new ideas, but with enough of an concept in mind not to be indecisive. In the end, they put together a long gold gown that parted at the waist to show the vivid red inner lining. The golden fabric covered the arms and ended in a long bell sleeve, so that the red lining was visible in the drape of the sleeve. Elihal had personally embroidered the edges of the dress with a wide symmetrical star pattern and, if they did say so themselves, it was one of their best works.

Of course, these days, Iorveth was more known for his ruthless violence and rebellion against humans rather than his music or his clothing. But there had been a time when Elihal could openly brag that that famous pretty musician wore their designs to perform.

Sometimes, Elihal wondered if Iorveth missed it as much as they did. Not that Elihal themself had changed all that much – but Iorveth… Iorveth had been through many changes at the hands of humans. Enough so that Elihal could understand how their friend had turned to violence against humanity, even if they didn’t approve.

After all, Elihal had been at Iorveth’s last performance. And they knew exactly why Iorveth had stopped performing, exactly why Iorveth changed careers and began to fight for elven freedom.

Nonetheless, Elihal themself insisted on coexisting with humans. Humans needed clothing just as much as elves and dwarves and gnomes and halflings did. Why shouldn’t Elihal serve them? Yes, there were times that Novigrad was less than enchanting – the Church of the Eternal Fire had started stirring up hate towards nonhumans of recent, for example – but it was still home, and Elihal was a tailor, not a traveler.

When Iorveth turned into a revolutionary, Elihal had been left to make a decision – to lose contact with their friend, or to engage in illicit activities. Choosing Iorveth was easy. The illicit activities, less so. Iorveth didn’t demand much of them, but every time they received an encoded order from a nondescript courier, anxiety and fear built in their gut. It wasn’t fear of getting caught, not exactly. Even though every kingdom in the north sentenced Scoia’tael collaborators to death, Elihal was careful, and if they were caught, Elihal was prepared to defend themself.

Perhaps that was what scared them so much. Because they would defend themself, even if it meant shattering the unspoken truce that allowed them to coexist with humanity. Or was it to allow humanity to coexist with them?

Elihal wasn’t violent by nature. But they’d lived a long time and they had run out of fucks to give. If someone threatened them, they would respond appropriately.

They just really, really didn’t want to. They liked living in Novigrad amongst humans, and it would be such a shame to destroy that.

After this is supposed to be a meet cute with Hattori.

Okay, I don’t have a lot of the next chapter of The First Rule of Fight Club, but here’s what I got. Definite spoilers in this bit!

The great thing about living on a mountain – it could always be seen in the distance, so even if you’d wandered off without paying attention to where you were going, you could return.

Even if it took several hours. Which would have been fine – her muscles would be displeased with her tomorrow, but Ves had gotten a decent workout. The walking was a good cool down.

No, the problem was all the time that left her to think – about the lingering taste of blood in her mouth, about the fact that she knew what an elf’s skin felt like against her teeth, that it felt different to bite their chest versus their neck. About the way that long neck had arched under her bite, about the puff of breath against her own chest, about the soft gasp he’d made when she’d bit him the first time.

Dammit, she should have just killed him.

She was also stuck thinking about the things he’d said about Roche, that her commander wasn’t worthy of her loyalty. She snorted. What a ridiculous thing to say to your enemy. As if she would ever believe Ciaran.

But that didn’t stop her from thinking about it, didn’t stop her from examining everything that had happened recently over and over in her mind. At least thinking about Roche meant she didn’t have to think about Ciaran.

Except somehow, all the trails of thought she followed about Roche inevitably led back to Iorveth and the Scoia’tael. How strange.

As you maybe can guess (Again, SPOILERS!), Ves gets to thinking and realizes a few things. Aaaaand, that’s all I’ll say XD

Okay, this one is just a PWP lol. Specifically, it’s the first time they bring Saskia into their relationship. Sorta.

When Iorveth had said Saskia had agreed to a threesome, this was not at all what Roche had expected. First of all, he didn’t actually see Saskia anywhere around the forest clearing outside of Vergen. Instead, there appeared to be a large dragon behind Iorveth, where the elf was on his knees with his ass in the air and face buried in the grass. 

Such a sight was naturally highly arousing, but Roche had never seen Iorveth’s ass on display accompanied by a forked tongue that licked a stripe from Iorveth’s cunt to his ass, then twisted across his rim. Iorveth whimpered into the grass and Roche’s feet automatically brought him closer, his eyes fixed on the way sharp talons carefully held Iorveth’s cheeks open as that agile tongue teased Iorveth, pressing in just the tiniest bit and pulling back just to do it again.

“Holy fuck,” he heard a rough voice say and belatedly realized that it was him. 

Iorveth twisted his head until he could see Roche, eye half mast the way he got when he was feeling good. Roche licked his lips, and Iorveth reached out for him.

“Vernon,” Iorveth moaned, and Roche was at Iorveth’s side before he even registered that he was walking. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Roche reached out to take Iorveth’s hand and Iorveth clutched him tightly, even as the elf seemed to be unable to close his mouth, drooling against the grass already. 

The sight was delectable, and Roche wasn’t sure when he’d gotten hard, but he definitely was now. He stroked his hand through Iorveth’s hair, and even though he should probably be concerned about the whole dragon thing and the whole dragon fucking thing, he found himself sitting down beside Iorveth.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, gazing up Iorveth’s arched back to where the fronts of very large dragon fangs pressed delicately against Iorveth’s ass. The dragon looked – well, like a dragon. Roche hadn’t exactly seen one before, but the dragon’s snout looked pretty much like he’d expect a giant reptile’s snout to look – a big toothy grin, each fang bigger than Roche’s hand, surrounded by green and bronze scales that turned into white horns just above golden eyes that rolled around to focus on him.

Hello, Vernon, a deep, smoky voice growled inside his head. If he weren’t so used to talking with Triss that way, he probably would’ve been terrified at the idea of a dragon in his head.

Actually, even so, why wasn’t he terrified? It was a dragon.

But Witchers didn’t hunt dragons and Elves seemed to worship them. Maybe there really was nothing to fear – except possibly coming in his pants, because the sounds that Iorveth was making were mindblowing.

And then later, afterwards:

Saskia winked at him. “Last night was lovely. We’ll have to do it again some time.”

Roche blinked in confusion. Had Saskia joined them after all? What, had she watched from afar?

“See what I mean?” Iorveth said to Saskia in a tone of complete exasperation. “Absolute himbo.”

“Himbo? What is that? Is that Elder?” Iorveth hadn’t covered it in their lessons. He was mostly sure of that.

Saskia chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re an incredible man, Vernon Roche. I’m very glad fate brought you to Vergen.”

She patted him one more time, shared an amused glance with Iorveth, and then walked away to do whatever Queenly things were needed to keep the kingdom running. Roche just blinked at the space where she’d been.

“Did I miss something?”

Iorveth just laughed and leaned in to kiss him.

Okay, I have one more lighthearted snip, and then there 2 long ones that are both smutty. Sorta. One is VERY much spoiler territory, so I’ll put that last. But for now, have a Stripes vs Scoia’tael water balloon fight

Roche hadn’t actually been commanding men for very long – the four years with the Blue Stripes was his only experience – but he was good at it. He was good at reading people, understanding dynamics, and most importantly, sensing when morale was teetering on the knife’s edge of too low.

His command sense was screaming at him now. Fenn was also screaming, but that was because he’d done something stupid in his boredom. Again. 

That was the last clue Roche needed to know that his men really, really needed a break. A true break, not a babysitting break or a guard duty break, but an actual morale-boosting break.

How that led to the intense free for all currently happening, he wasn’t sure. But he was winning. Sort of. Depending on how you measured winning.

...okay, maybe he was losing, but it could’ve been worse! They could’ve gone with Fenn’s idea to fill their ammo with paint.

Instead, a nice, normal water balloons pegged him in the shoulder and burst over his already sodden sleeve. Roche sighed heavily. He was too old for this, dammit.

This one has a title and is preeeeetty long, but not done yet, thus why it has not yet been posted. 😔 Also, warnings for consensual non-consent.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance

One

It started – well, not innocently, because they were not innocent people and their conversation was not the slightest bit innocent.

Technically, it was about torturing people. Which they both had extensive experience in.

Roche hadn’t really thought about his words before letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“If you had ever captured me,” he asked, taking the pipe from Iorveth’s hand and stealing his hit. Iorveth growled as he blew the smoke out in Iorveth’s face, and he continued, “how would you have tried to break me?”

Iorveth arched an eyebrow, snatching his pipe back and relighting it. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

Roche tilted his head, idle curiosity morphing into a sudden need to know. “Wouldn’ta asked if I didn’t.”

Iorveth grit his jaw, taking a long draw and closing his eyes as he exhaled. “Foltest is your obvious weakness. I’d drive a wedge there, emphasize failure,” Iorveth’s voice was toneless.

A wave of cold made Roche shudder and he swallowed. Well, he had asked.

“And you?” Iorveth asked blandly. “How would you have tried to break me?”

He looked Iorveth over, frowning. In truth, there were many ways he’d considered in the past of what he might need to do if he had caught Iorveth.

In the end, he hadn’t been able to do any of them.

“Someone like you,” he started, “you can take pain. You wouldn’t break.” Roche licked his lips and let Iorveth enjoy the flash of victory he could see in those eyes for just a moment before, “Not from pain, anyway.”

Iorveth scoffed, “and what is that supposed to mean? You think you could break me!?”

Roche tilted his head, “I find I no longer have any interest in seeing you in pain. But I bet I could take you utterly apart with pleasure.”

Iorveth’s breath came shorter and his lips parted.

Roche dragged his gaze over Iorveth again, lingering on those lips. “Your life has braced you against pain. But pleasure – you’re weak against it. You wouldn’t make it easy, of course – you never make anything easy – but yes, I think I could break you.”

He leaned closer to Iorveth, taking in the elf’s dilated eye and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

“I think you’d like me to break you.”

Iorveth’s breath hitched.

Roche licked his lips. “In fact,” he said deliberately, “I think I can make you ask for it.”

Iorveth’s eye flashed and he sneered. “Not likely,” he dismissed, as if Roche hadn’t made him beg a dozen times. But this was a bit different. This was asking Roche without having been brought to the edge first. This was admitting that he wanted Roche to break him.

Roche reached out and took the pipe, taking a deep hit. He opened his eyes and met Iorveth’s gaze as he exhaled, smoke curling through the air between them. Iorveth was quite literally on the edge of his seat, leaning towards him the slightest amount and most definitely affected by this conversation.

He smirked and returned the pipe, rising to his feet. “I should go check on my men,” he said, and walked out of the room, leaving Iorveth on edge and frustrated – and no doubt thinking about whether or not to ask.

It might take a while, but Roche was quite certain Iorveth would ask.

Two

Iorveth held out for longer than he expected. The incident had almost slipped Roche’s mind entirely by the time Iorveth brought it up again. They were having breakfast together in Iorveth’s house – which really meant that Iorveth made them both amazing coffee and Roche cooked them actual food, because Iorveth was still too skinny – when Iorveth stopped picking at his food and turned to him.

“You’re awfully confident,” Iorveth said, apropos of nothing.

“Hmm?”

“In believing you can take me apart,” Iorveth mumbled and Roche immediately felt more alert – and not just because he’d just taken a sip of the truly amazing elven coffee.

“Oh, that’s just a fact. No confidence needed,” he smirked and met Iorveth’s narrowed gaze. “Anything in particular on your mind?”

Iorveth glared. “You know what’s on my mind.”

“Do I?” Roche asked innocently. “Think I might need a clue here.”

“Ugh, you’re such a bastard.”

He grinned, “your bastard, though.” He nudged Iorveth to keep eating and the elf obligingly speared a strawberry with his fork and nibbled at it. “So what is on your mind?”

Iorveth finished the strawberry, frowning slightly. “I keep fucking dreaming about it,” Iorveth admitted.

“What’s that?” Roche asked as if he didn’t know exactly what Iorveth was trying to ask for. He could hardly make this easy for his elf, after all.

Besides, getting Iorveth to admit he dreamed about getting taken apart by Roche? He should start every morning with such a lovely admission.

Iorveth growled in irritation, and Roche just grinned winningly at him.

“Fucking dammit,” Iorveth hissed, “just fucking try and break me already!”

Roche chuckled, “still think I won’t be able to?”

Iorveth pressed his lips together and glared. Fair enough – Roche had already gotten one admission out of him anyway.

“If you’re serious,” he said deliberately, “meet me in the forest across the lake behind Vergen tomorrow at noon. Wear armor you don’t mind getting ruined.”

Iorveth swallowed and nodded. Then he licked his lips and darted in to kiss Roche quickly before bringing his plate to the kitchen and heading out the door.

Roche smiled after him, bringing a finger up to trace his lips absently. Iorveth wanted this, wanted him to do this.

He certainly couldn’t let his elf down.

Three

Roche stood on the edge of the forest just past the lake northeast of Vergen, waiting for Iorveth and contemplating his next moves. What he really wanted was for this to be – well, as real as possible, in a way. He’d brought a handful of supplies, but mostly, he was clad exactly as he would have been as the Blue Stripes Commander facing the infamous Scoia’tael Commander.

Iorveth appeared, not from across the lake, but from a tree deeper in the forest, which meant he’d gotten there before Roche and waited. How appropriate.

Roche let a half-smile pull at his lips, taking in Iorveth’s mismatched armor. “Iorveth,” he said with just a hint of a growl, “the Scoia’tael’s most ruthless and effective commander. I’ve long awaited our confrontation.”

Iorveth’s tongue darted out to lick his lips and Roche’s eyes followed it. “Vernon Roche,” Iorveth enunciated clearly, cautiously moving towards him. “Temerian Special Forces Commander. I seem to be missing your emblem in my collection,” Iorveth gestured to the patches he displayed on a sash across his armor – trophies from those he had defeated, including every other special forces commander in the north.

Roche smirked. “Shame it will be forever incomplete.” He drew his sword and held it at the ready. 

“We shall see about that,” Iorveth responded, his own swords held aloft.

They stared at least other for a moment in tense silence, and then Roche was moving, charging forward until their blades met with a clang. 

The fight was charged – neither were the type not to bring their all to any fight, and this one had an extra layer over it that had something hot sizzling in Roche’s belly. As they slashed and parried and swiped at each other, they both knew the ultimate way this would end. Whoever won this fight, they would both win today – Roche a little bit more than Iorveth, though.

Or maybe not, depending on Iorveth’s point of view. Getting taken apart could easily be seen as the higher win, but for Roche, the sheer privilege of being allowed to do so, of being invited to overwhelm Iorveth until he could no longer think…

Roche licked his lips and spotted an opening, knocking Iorveth’s sword to the side and thrusting forward with his own blade. Iorveth dodged, but Roche managed to cut across his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood to well up and slowly drip down.

Iorveth’s eye narrowed, and he swiped the back of his hand over the wound. Then he brought that hand to his mouth and licked across the smear of blood on the back of his hand.

Roche’s breath caught, his own blood pounding in his ears. “Iorveth,” he breathed.

Iorveth smirked, “that all you got?”

“Never.”

Despite his words, it was unusually hard to draw his eyes away from the dot of blood on Iorveth’s lower lip, from the way the cut highlighted Iorveth’s cheekbones, from the way that agile tongue flicked out to wet Iorveth’s lower lip.

Iorveth twisted his wrists, spinning his two swords around in a complicated dance that Roche had to watch carefully to find an opening in. Finally, he saw his chance and dove forward, catching Iorveth’s swords with his and driving his shoulder into Iorveth, pushing him back and bloodying his nose. 

Iorveth staggered back, dropping one of his swords – thereby freeing a hand from Roche’s block – and grabbing a dagger. He pulled his hand in towards his center, defending himself even as blood dripped down his face.

That probably should not turn Roche on as much as it did. Iorveth was a fighter, one of the best opponents Roche had ever faced, and there was always a certain thrill in facing someone who would force you to bring your best. 

But under all that, there was the simmering knowledge that Iorveth wanted Roche to force him to submit. Iorveth wanted to be bested here, and Roche refused to disappoint.

He licked his lips and drove his momentum forward, forcing Iorveth to parry with both knife and sword. Then Roche saw an opportunity and darted his hand out to grasp Iorveth’s wrist, digging in with his thumb hard into the pressure point between Iorveth’s middle knuckles, forcing Iorveth’s fingers to drop the sword.

Iorveth snarled, swiping his knife between them and slicing a shallow line across Roche’s forearm. Roche pulled back with a stifled gasp of pain, and kicked out at Iorveth’s feet. Iorveth jumped up, dodging his kick, but not the bolas that Roche threw at him. The weighted ropes tangled around Iorveth’s feet, making him stumble as he landed and Roche rushed him. He forced Iorveth to the ground and caught the wrist of the hand holding the knife, pushing it into the dirt above Iorveth’s head, his thumb pressing hard against Iorveth’s pulse.

Iorveth gasped, attempting to headbutt him. Roche mostly dodged.

“Sonofa–” he hissed, spitting blood onto Iorveth’s face. 

Iorveth’s nose wrinkled, his lips pulled back to show his teeth and he growled viciously, fighting against Roche with all his strength.

But Roche had all the leverage here, and there was nothing Iorveth could do. Roche licked the blood from his teeth and watched the realization slowly wash over Iorveth’s face. He was trapped. 

Iorveth swallowed audibly, his eyelid fluttering. 

Roche grinned, leaning down to pin Iorveth’s hands with his forearm so that he could bring a hand down to unbuckle his belt – not the easiest task one-handed, but so, so worth it for the way Iorveth shivered when Roche wrapped his belt around Iorveth’s wrists, binding them together. Then he twisted, planting his knee across Iorveth’s chest and scrabbling at Iorveth’s own belt. Iorveth bucked against his hold, still trying to fight, but with Roche’s weight across his chest, his movements were jerky and uncoordinated, his breathing coming short.

Roche unbuckled Iorveth’s belt and wrapped it around the elf’s legs from ankle to knee, pulling it tight and tying it off. Then he stood, looking down Iorveth with a boot pressed against Iorveth’s throat. The elf looked delectable, face flushed and bloody, armor askew as he continued to writhe and buck, trying to free himself. But his hands and feet were each bound together and even if Iorveth could free himself, he wouldn’t be able to get far. 

Roche moved his boot, kneeling down with his knees on either side of Iorveth’s torso. 

“The great Scoia’tael Commander, caught at last,” he smirked and Iorveth squirmed under him, not giving in in the slightest. Roche licked his lips and pulled a knife from his belt.

Iorveth glanced at the runes carved along the blade, eye narrowed suspiciously. 

Roche just chuckled, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t stain this blade with your blood. Be a waste of an enchantment – and they don’t come cheap, you know. This cost me three bottles of good Temerian ale.”

Triss had shared the ale with him afterwards, though, so he hadn’t complained. Much.

Roche brought the knife down with the slightest hint of a touch to trace Iorveth’s exposed neck. Iorveth gasped, his head tilting back by the tiniest increment. Roche dragged the knife down from Iorveth’s jaw to his collarbone, still just barely making contact. And then he reached the collar of Iorveth’s armor. 

“Someone like you,” he said, pulling the knife through armor that magically parted under his steel, “captured. It’d be a shame to let all the intel you carry go to waste. But you’re Iorveth – breaking you would be the work of a lifetime. Pain is no stranger to you – perhaps even an old friend. You won’t break under pain.” 

As he spoke, he continued to drag his knife down Iorveth’s body, shifting his knees in the dirt to back up until he’d ripped through the entirety of Iorveth’s gambeson. Then, kneeling at Iorveth’s feet, he pressed the tip of his knife to Iorveth’s right heel, slicing his boots away. Iorveth shuddered as the knife glanced across the bottom of his foot on one side and then the other.

Then Roche stood to admire his captive. Arms bound above his head with Roche’s studded belt wrapped around those leather gloves that Roche had definitely never dreamed about, Iorveth’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, each movement further parting his ruined armor. Roche brought his sword up and slowly pushed the armor across Iorveth’s side, leaving thin red lines in his wake. 

Iorveth attempted to stifle the sound he made, low and wanting, and Roche laughed, kneeling over Iorveth’s thighs with his knees on the splayed-open armor, restraining Iorveth that tiniest bit further, with the elf’s arms still clothed. He set his sword to the side, out of Iorveth’s range, and ghosted the hand not holding the knife over Iorveth’s chest, just the lightest touch, barely there. Iorveth shivered and then jerked when Roche smacked his upper thigh with the flat of his palm.

“Pain won’t break you,” Roche continued, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it.”

Iorveth growled, attempting to cover the way his cock was twitching in his hose. Roche grinned down at him, brushing his fingers down Iorveth’s abdomen and along the hem of the hose, all without ever actually touching Iorveth’s cock. 

“And you do enjoy it, don’t you, Iorveth? You fight because you don’t know how to stop, but your body tells a different story.” He leaned back, bringing his knife up and pressing his own thumb against the edge. It was sharp, the blunted pressure of the blade digging into his skin without drawing blood. 

“You dh’oine speak nothing but nonsense,” Iorveth spat, but his voice quivered when Roche dragged the backs of his fingers lightly up Iorveth’s stomach.

“Perhaps,” Roche allowed, “and perhaps there are other ways I can make you talk.” 

He pressed the tip of the knife against the inside of one leg, just above Iorveth’s bound knees, and dragged the blade slowly upward, cutting through the hose and occasionally drawing thin red lines of blood as Roche varied the pressure, keeping Iorveth guessing about what might come next.

When he reached the apex of Iorveth’s left thigh, he switched sides, starting from the knee again. Iorveth shivered under each touch, biting his lip to keep noises from escaping. Roche let him, for now.

After all, they were only just getting started. 

Finally, he reached the crease of Iorveth’s right thigh and dragged his knife across it, then back in towards Iorveth’s crotch, outlining Iorveth’s cock with the lightest of touches. 

Iorveth gasped, arching and Roche smirked. “That’s right, Squirrel. You know how to take rough treatment, how to meet violence with violence. But you have no idea what to do when something doesn’t hurt, do you? You like that it hurts just. that. little. bit.” As he spoke, he punctuated each word with pressing the tip of the knife in little pinpricks against the skin of Iorveth’s hips. 

Iorveth’s shoulders jerked against the ground, his body moving in an aborted twitch, pressing further into his knife. Roche pulled it away.

“Ah ah ah, I get to decide when it hurts and when it doesn’t. You get to tell me everything about your next operation.”

“Fuck you,” Iorveth sneered.

Roche chuckled, “if you weren’t difficult, you wouldn’t be the enemy I’ve spent so much time pursuing. The one Scoia’tael Commander who has eluded me,” he traced his eyes down Iorveth’s body, “until now, that is.”

Iorveth scoffed, “you’ll get nothing out of me.”

“In that case,” Roche slowly climbed up Iorveth’s body on his knees, sliding both fingertips and knife tip up Iorveth’s chest, “there’s no point in you being able to talk, is there?”

He knelt above Iorveth’s neck, his knees on either side of Iorveth’s arms where they were extended over his head. 

“I must admit,” Roche murmured, reaching down to part his armor and draw out his cock. “I have thought about many uses for that mouth of yours.”

“Rot in hell, dh’oine,” Iorveth said through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, I’m sure we both will, Squirrel. But first, let’s see how silver tongued you really are.”

He gripped Iorveth’s chin tightly until teeth parted enough for him to shove two fingers into Iorveth’s mouth, followed quickly by his cock. He slid across Iorveth’s tongue, feeling it twitch against him, and Roche grabbed Iorveth’s bound wrists tightly. To hold Iorveth down, sure, but mostly to ground himself because no matter now many times he’d had it, Iorveth’s mouth never ceased to be wondrous – slightly cool, cavernous and slick, with lips that sealed tightly around him even as Iorveth struggled against his hold.

Roche let himself moan out loud, savouring the wet suction for a long minute. Then he pulled out and shoved back in until Iorveth choked around him. He rocked back, just enough to let Iorveth suck in air through his nose, then he did it again, pushing in just a bit deeper than before. He set a rhythm, thrusting just a bit further each time until his cock was entirely sheathed in Iorveth’s throat. The sounds Iorveth made as he choked and swallowed around Roche had him moving his hips faster, pulling out further and thrusting back in hard.

Iorveth moaned around him. That was the only word for it – choked and high pitched and full of pleasure. Roche shuddered at the sound, both its vibration and the sheer satisfaction at having driven Iorveth to make noise.

He pulled out, releasing Iorveth’s arms with one hand to stroke his own cock, kneeling just above Iorveth’s mouth, which had chased him for a moment before Iorveth remembered who he was. Roche panted, feeling like he was balancing on a knife’s edge, ready to come, ready to paint his pleasure over Iorveth’s face. That face that looked absolutely wrecked, dazed and pleased, mouth still hanging open. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, stripping his cock faster. “Gonna paint your pretty face with evidence of this, evidence that you’ve been used by a dh’oine. Evidence that you were good at it, such a perfect hole to fuck.”

Iorveth’s eye went wide even as his hips bucked against the grass.

Roche chuckled roughly, darkly. “You like that you’re good at it. You like that your mouth can please even a dh’oine, hmm? Wonder if you’ll like it as much as I discover how good the rest of you is, hmm?”

Iorveth’s breath hitched, his hips squirming behind Roche. Roche pressed his heels into Iorveth’s arms in warning, but Iorveth didn’t stop shifting his hips, trying to find stimulation. Roche would have to punish him for that, but first – first, Iorveth’s tongue licked over his bottom lip and just so happened to swipe across the head of Roche’s cock and next thing he knew, he was coming over Iorveth’s face, stroking himself and guiding his cock to paint white streaks across Iorveth’s bandana, across his cheek, his forehead, over his tongue.

Roche groaned, sitting back against Iorveth’s chest and admiring how beautiful that face looked covered with his cum. Iorveth’s eye fluttered, and Roche helpfully reached out and wiped it clean, but Iorveth only blinked up at him with a hazy, unfocused eye.

Roche smirked, “see, your mouth can be put to good use.” He wiggled down Iorveth’s body until he could grind his still-hard cock against Iorveth’s. 

It wasn’t natural for his cock to still be hard after coming, of course, but with a little help from Triss and her magic, that was not going to be a problem today. He may or may not be able to come again, but he would stay hard, his dick ready to be used however he needed to take Iorveth apart.

“Mm, and look how hard that got you, being used by a dh’oine. By this dh’oine,” he wrapped his hands around both of their cocks, stroking the copious slick from Iorveth between them. “Because you like that it’s not just any human doing this, don’t you? You like that it’s me, your enemy – and you hate that you like it.”

He chuckled as Iorveth squirmed again, face flushed and jaw clenched in embarrassment even as his hips bucked into every touch. 

“How much more can I make you squirm, I wonder? How much more before you break? Because you will break, Squirrel, and once you’ve broken, I’ll take you again, just for the victory.”

Iorveth shivered, but his swollen lips curled in a scowl. “Whatever you do, dh’oine, whatever humiliation you think of, you’ll never break me.”

Roche smiled widely, ferally, bringing one hand up to capture Iorveth’s chin and jerk his face up to meet Roche’s gaze. “We shall see,” he promised, leaning forward and biting his way into Iorveth’s mouth. 

It was not a gentle kiss. Perhaps the furthest thing from one, in fact. They were both fighting to sink their teeth into each other’s lips, to fuck their tongue into each other’s mouths, to force the other to submit.

But of course, that wasn’t who either of them were. They would never submit, not until they were forced to.

As he would force Iorveth to.

Roche pulled away from Iorveth’s mouth, ignoring the way Iorveth’s neck stretched to chase his mouth, and sank his teeth into the meat of Iorveth’s left pectoral. Iorveth arched up into him, even as the elf tried to turn his moan into a growl and only succeeded in making a purring sound that had Roche biting down harder.

“The great Iorveth, marked by a dh’oine. By me. And you want more, don’t you?” he taunted, licking over the imprint of his teeth.

“Fuck you,” Iorveth attempted to snarl, but his voice was sluggish and weak. 

Roche smirked. “Perhaps. But I think first, I shall partake in all this elven body has to give,” he slid his hands slowly down Iorveth’s chest as he spoke, tracing the outline of each rib with his thumbs. 

Iorveth gave a rough laugh, “and you think you can take me?”

Roche hummed, “no. I think you will beg me to take you by the time I’m done.” Iorveth’s eye widened and he shivered, his shoulders jostling against the grass. “Oh yes, I’m going to love sinking inside you, wrecking you – but not until you’re good and desperate.”

Iorveth inhaled loudly through his nose, and he couldn’t hide the way his cock twitched and throbbed against Roche’s. “I don’t beg,” he gasped, attempting – and failing – to sound anything other than aroused and interested. “I would never beg for a dh’oine, much less you.”

Roche laughed, “ah, but that’s what will make it so very satisfying when you do. Because I am the only one who could drive you to this.” His hands reached Iorveth’s slightly concave stomach and he tutted. “Too damn skinny,” he muttered, “someone oughta feed you up. Maybe after I break you – keep you around as a nice cockwarmer, get some meat on you ‘til there’s a nice cushion for the pushin’.”

Iorveth made a strange sound that Roche was fairly sure was him attempting to stifle a moan. No matter – Roche would make Iorveth scream for him before he was done.

He dragged his hands back up Iorveth’s torso, purposely catching Iorveth’s nipples under his palms. Iorveth’s shoulders shifted, trying to keep from pushing up into him maybe, and Roche licked his lips and then dragged his nails all the way down Iorveth’s abdomen.

None of Iorveth’s control could stop his arch then, nor the breathy gasp that fell from his lips. Roche chuckled approvingly, leaning down to lick up one of the raised lines his nails had left. 

There was something about Iorveth’s skin that always tasted a little like the nature he was so connected to – earthy and herbal and fresh, like a forest clearing after rain. It was intoxicating and addicting, and Roche lapped it up, mouthing across Iorveth’s chest and stomach, occasionally digging his teeth into firm muscle. 

He closed his teeth around Iorveth’s left nipple, tugging juuuuust the slightest bit and then sucking the hard nub until Iorveth was struggling to hold back his sounds. The elf was biting his lip hard, but noises still slipped through, little moans and sighs and whimpers, and fuck, but dragging these sounds from Iorveth felt like his grandest victory yet. Who cared about valor in battle or honors from the king when he could force his enemy to want!?

And Iorveth did want, his cock smearing slick all over Roche’s armor. Iorveth’s thighs were wet from his dripping cunt and gods, but Roche had to taste it, had to dive down and lick between Iorveth’s thighs. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, blowing cool air over wet skin. “So hot and desperate already, though you try to deny yourself. How long will that last, I wonder? One orgasm? Two?” He licked a stripe up Iorveth’s cock then and Iorveth’s ah was music to his ears. “But I won’t stop then. No, I won’t stop until you’re completely broken, until all you are is whatever I tell you.”

Iorveth shivered, his eye fluttering closed. His face was still streaked with Roche’s cum, his bandana utterly ruined. It was a delightful sight, satisfying something feral and possessive deep inside him. Iorveth, the notorious Scoia’tael Commander, was his.

That satisfaction made him generous, and he wrapped his lips around Iorveth’s cock, slowly sinking down on it. Iorveth tried to buck up into him, but he pinned Iorveth by the hips and purposefully moved even slower. 

Iorveth whined, high and loud, and if Roche’s mouth wasn’t full, he would have smirked. Instead, he rewarded Iorveth by lowering himself further, until he could swallow around the tapered head of Iorveth’s cock.

Roche stared up Iorveth’s lean body, admiring the way Iorveth’s long neck arched, his head falling back and leaving him exposed. Roche pulled off, keeping his lips sealed tight around Iorveth, even as the ridges spiraling Iorveth’s cock forced their way past his lips as he rose. Iorveth moaned, the elf’s mouth dropping open.

“Oh!” Iorveth gasped, “Pl-nngh,” he cut himself off before he could beg, and Roche laughed as he sank back down on Iorveth’s cock, making Iorveth writhe wildly. “Fuck!”

Roche took a deep breath through his nose and then swallowed Iorveth down all the way, until his nose was pressed against Iorveth’s pelvis, so different from a human’s without any hair. He ran his tongue along the ridges around Iorveth’s cock and Iorveth shuddered, hips jerking against his hold in little rolls as Iorveth tried to get deeper.

Roche opened lazy eyes to meet Iorveth’s flustered gaze, then hummed the opening notes to that song Iorveth was always playing on his flute.

Iorveth gasped wildly, letting out a loud, wordless exclamation as his cock flooded Roche’s mouth. Roche swallowed rapidly but some still leaked from between his lips and he released Iorveth’s cock to lap it up. 

Elves could come multiple times, Roche knew, but that didn’t mean they didn’t get sensitive. And Iorveth was most definitely sensitive. Roche admired the way Iorveth squirmed, wanting to both get closer to and away from the touch of his tongue as he meticulously cleaned and suckled at Iorveth’s cock. 

Iorveth whined wordlessly, shivers of overstimulation jarring his body, and Roche didn’t stop, moving down to lick between Iorveth’s thighs again. Iorveth’s cunt was hidden between bound legs, but that didn’t mean that Roche couldn’t lick and suck and lap at the skin all around it, trying to reach his goal.

Iorveth moaned and flailed against him, still torn between sensations of too much and not enough. When Roche glanced up, there were tears already dripping down Iorveth’s face, and he felt a little thrill of victory. Iorveth was starting to surrender, starting to give in. The elf would still make him work for it, but the tipping point had passed – Iorveth was his now, his to take apart and put back together again.

Iorveth sighed in relief when Roche pulled back, but all he did was pull Iorveth’s legs up, pushing his bound knees towards his stomach and exposing the rest of his cunt for Roche’s eager tongue.

Iorveth tasted so good – even if Roche had been inclined to deny himself the allure of getting his mouth on Iorveth’s cunt, he doubted he could ever resist once he’d had a taste. He could happily spend an entire day just eating Iorveth out, until Iorveth truly couldn’t take anymore. And then possibly once more, just to be an asshole.

Iorveth was already shuddering and his hips jerked upwards once, twice, and then Roche’s face was getting drenched and he happily lapped it all up until Iorveth was squirming again.

“Fuck! Gods, fuck it, please!” Iorveth shouted, gloved fingers digging bruises into the other hand. Iorveth’s cunt clenched and his stomach quivered and tears dripped down his face as he finally begged, “fuck me, gods, please, I need your cock, fuck!”

“Good boy,” Roche murmured in reward, admiring the way Iorveth’s eye fluttered and his cheeks flushed. “I suppose you have earned a reward.”

He shifted around, rising onto his knees and hauling Iorveth’s hips up to rest on his thighs. But instead of entering Iorveth’s cunt, he thrust his cock across Iorveth’s folds, fucking between his thighs. 

“Ah!” Iorveth sobbed, head falling back and thighs squeezing and clenching around Roche.

“Fuck, your legs,” Roche moaned, running a hand over Iorveth’s bare feet, over the belt that kept his ankles bound and his tattered hose in place as leather wound up Iorveth’s shapely calves. The bare skin of his thighs were soft and smooth, largely unmarred by the scars that littered the rest of his body.

That felt out of place, wrong for the elf below him who had fought and fought and fought with every inch of his being, so Roche curled his fingers and dragged his nails down the back of Iorveth’s thighs.

Iorveth screamed, startled and overwhelmed and engulfed in pleasure as the elf came again, pulsing wetness across Roche’s cock and both their thighs. Roche kept thrusting against him, providing just that little bit of friction for Iorveth’s clit, and Iorveth sobbed, hips shifting and thrashing against the ground.

His cunt clenched, releasing another rush of slick and Iorveth panted, “fuck, Vernon, just fuck me already, gods!”

“Ah, but I am fucking you,” Roche smirked, staring down at the gorgeous body that was his to do what he wished with. Now it was his turn to shiver, and his cock leaked precum across Iorveth’s thighs. Iorveth squeezed them around him, rolling down into his thrusts, and Roche marveled that this was the same elf who started so very resistant and determinedly uninterested.

Iorveth was certainly interested now, downright begging for his cock. Roche smirked in satisfaction, rocking his hips steadily and refusing to give Iorveth what he asked for.

“See, I knew I could make you sing,” Roche chuckled, enjoying the symphony of sounds Iorveth let loose. “But I don’t think you’ve earned my cock yet, have you?” 

Iorveth whined, squirming against him as his cock brushed over Iorveth’s clit. 

“Keep asking me nicely and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” he taunted, turning his head to mouth at Iorveth’s calves, still partially clothed in ripped hose. He nipped next to the belt, inhaling the smell of leather on Iorveth’s skin and Iorveth whimpered.

“Fuck, Vernon, please!”

“Mmm,” Roche rumbled, “please what?”

Iorveth closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, some part of him still attempting to resist. But that was what Roche adored about Iorveth – he never gave up, even driven past pride and dignity, even after a handful of orgasms. That was why he needed to be broken, needed to be forced to truly give in and let himself bask in the pleasure.

“You know you could make it easier on yourself and give in, but you wouldn’t be you if you did,” Roche laughed. “You are delightful, you know that? No other would be such an absolute pleasure to take apart.”

Iorveth made a small noise, biting his lip. 

“You go ahead fight me with everything you have, Squirrel. I can take it – and I’ll still force you to submit. It scares you to know that I’ll succeed, because you know how much you’ll enjoy it, don’t you, Iorveth? You know that you’ll fucking love being fully and completely under my control.”

Iorveth moaned, low and throaty, even as he shook his head in denial. Roche bit his calf, digging teeth in deep and Iorveth gasped, more tears falling from his eyes. 

“Fuck!” Iorveth swore, the word sounding torn from his throat, “gods, fuck, please! I want you inside me, gods dammit, fuck me!”

Roche chuckled against Iorveth’s skin. “Still so feisty. I would expect nothing less.” He shifted and wrapped a hand around Iorveth’s cock, pumping it in time with the movement of his cock thrusting between clenched thighs. 

Iorveth shouted without words, jerking up into his hand, then back down against his cock. Roche tightened his hand around Iorveth’s hip, holding him down and bending forward to pin his hips in place. 

“C’mon, Squirrel, I know you can do better than that. All you have to do is ask for what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Iorveth sobbed, “I am asking, fuck! Gods, fuck me, please!”

“Mmm, closer, but not quite there yet,” Roche said, stroking Iorveth’s hip and thigh.

Iorveth growled in frustration, tears spilling down his cheek, mixing with Roche’s cum on his face and leaving him an utter mess. Roche licked his lips.

“Come on, Iorveth,” he crooned, “all you have to do is give in and you’ll get what we both want. Just surrender.”

“Fuck, I’m asking, Vernon, gods dammit, I don’t know what you want! Just – fuck me!” Iorveth’s face screwed up in frustration and Roche frowned, taking his hand off Iorveth’s dick to stroke up his stomach.

“What I want,” Roche said deliberately, serious eyes sweeping over Iorveth, checking in, “is for you to let go.”

“I don’t know how!” Iorveth cried, body downright radiating annoyance and whoops, that wasn’t quite the way Roche wanted to go. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling away from Iorveth’s thighs and rearranging them so that he could sit against against a tree with Iorveth in his lap, bound wrists in front of him. Iorveth made a surprised noise and Roche shushed him, then began stroking his hands in long, measured circles across Iorveth’s body. “I’ll show you,” he promised against Iorveth’s ear, feeling Iorveth’s shiver across every inch they were pressed together. “I’ll show you how to let go.” 

Iorveth squirmed in his lap, grinding back against his cock and Roche chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around Iorveth to keep him from moving.

“Relax,” he murmured, “just let yourself feel.”

Iorveth struggled against him for a little bit and then, as he found he couldn’t get free, slowly let himself lean back into Roche’s chest, relaxing against him.

“Good, like that,” he whispered against Iorveth’s ear. “You’re trying so hard to be good, aren’t you?” Roche smiled, sucking on the edge of Iorveth’s ear. “It’s all right – if this was easy, anyone could do it. But you won’t submit to just anyone, will you? You can’t help but fight.”

Iorveth made a small broken noise that went directly to Roche’s cock. He loosened his arms slowly, and when Iorveth didn’t continue to struggle against him, he rewarded Iorveth by lifting the elf’s hips and guiding his cock into that soaking wet cunt.

He groaned, burying his face in Iorveth’s neck, but it was nothing compared to the sound Iorveth made, low and satisfied and desperate for more.

“Shhh,” he soothed, stroking one hand up Iorveth’s chest, keeping them pressed tightly together. “Just feel. Don’t try to chase the feeling, don’t try to move – just let yourself be.”

Iorveth whined and Roche tilted his head to kiss Iorveth deeply. Their lips moved together softly this time, Iorveth opening up to him and letting him fuck his tongue into Iorveth’s mouth. The hand on Iorveth’s chest thumbed over one of his nipples, and Roche stroked down Iorveth’s thighs with his other hand. 

He didn’t move his hips, didn’t thrust up into the incredible slick pressure around him. For the moment, he simply forced Iorveth to sit there, warming his cock and slowly relaxing back against him.

“Good boy,” Roche said against Iorveth’s lips, sucking the moan out of Iorveth’s throat. “See how nice that is, not worrying about what comes next, but just feeling? How many centuries has it been since you last got to do that?”

He reached up and pulled Iorveth’s bandana off, using the soiled fabric to wipe across the mess on Iorveth’s face. Iorveth leaned into the gentle touch and Roche nuzzled against his cheek, kissing it softly.

“You’ve fought so hard for so long, denied yourself things that feel good. It’s been so long since you last let yourself go, you’ve forgotten how. But that’s okay – I will show you how.” He pressed his mouth against the crown of Iorveth’s head. “You deserve soft things, nice things. You deserve to feel good. You’ve fought for so long, but it’s over now. You belong to me now – just give in and let yourself feel.”

Iorveth shuddered, his neck going lax against Roche’s shoulder. “Please,” he whispered brokenly.

“That’s right, Iorveth, good boy.” Roche rewarded Iorveth by starting to rock his hips back and forth, rolling into Iorveth at ever-shifting angles. He sucked marks across Iorveth’s shoulder, reaching down to stroke Iorveth’s cock, rubbing his thumb across the ridges.

Iorveth whined, clenching around him, and he moaned at how good it felt to finally be inside Iorveth.

After this there is - wait for it - MORE porn lmao. I have an 8 part list that comes next lol

If you made it all the way here, then 1) I am very impressed and might propose marriage and 2) this next bit is SERIOUS SPOILERS!!! Like, this is a sequel to (Im)Perfect Strangers set a good distance in the future.

The cabin where it had all started – well, the start they admitted to, anyway – had become Iorveth and Roche’s go-to spot for any special occasion. This particular vacation was nothing too significant – work had been stressful lately, and Geralt had volunteered to babysit (even though Anais insisted that twelve year olds don’t need supervision), so they were taking full advantage of it. 

They’d arrived two days ago and had a few days left, and they delightedly had absolutely nothing to do with themselves. Which was nice and relaxing in theory, but in reality, it tended to make Roche jittery. That was why they were hiking along the mountain peak, to burn off energy, but still largely doing nothing except enjoying each other’s company.

“Vernon,” Iorveth said suddenly, pressing one hand low against his stomach, the other clutching at Roche’s arm.

Roche turned to him immediately, alarm sending adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“What is it, what’s wrong?”

“I’m… not sure,” Iorveth’s voice shook slightly. “I – I feel like I need to–” he bit his lip, cutting himself off, and Roche’s alarm only increased.

“To what?”

“To bre – to fuck you. Immediately. Like, very immediately.” Iorveth’s hand trembled against Roche’s arm and Roche just blinked.

“Like… here?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings – the gravelly mountain slope, the grassy patches where trees grew, the expansive view of the world from the top of Vergen’s peak. “We could head back to the cabin–”

Iorveth shook his head fiercely, his long braids whipping around his face. “Now.”

Roche blinked down at the doubled-over elf, concern creasing his forehead. “Iorveth, what–?”

“I don’t know,” Iorveth hissed, “I just – fuck, Vernon, please!” Iorveth’s face was flushed, his pupils already wide and dark with arousal, desperation written into the lines of his face. 

“Okay, okay,” Roche soothed, shifting to scoop Iorveth into his arms and striding off the mountain trail until he could lay Iorveth down amongst the flowers under the shade of an oak tree. Iorveth clung to him, trembling with need as he sucked kisses along Roche’s throat. “How do you want me, love?”

Iorveth shuddered with a low moan. “Want to see your face,” he said, pulling Roche against him and then rolling them over, scratching frantically at Roche’s clothes. 

Roche caught his hands, even as he spread his legs to welcome Iorveth between them, “whoa whoa, it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

Iorveth just squirmed, grinding against him. “I can’t – I need – fuck, Vernon, I need you now, need to be inside you, please.”

Well. Begging like that was more than worth one ripped outfit, wasn’t it?

When Iorveth sank inside him, the elf moaned wildly, pulling out almost immediately only to thrust forward again. Roche moaned, letting his head roll back amongst the flowers.

“Take what you need, darling,” he murmured, breath hitching as Iorveth rocked inside him. He reached up to push the curtain of Iorveth’s hair back behind his shoulder, cupping his fever-warm face. “Whatever’s going on, you know you can always take what you need.”

Iorveth moaned lowly, “I think – fuck – I think I might be – gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t think–”

“Shhh,” Roche soothed, pulling Iorveth down against his chest. Iorveth’s hips continued to roll into him, short little hitches like Iorveth couldn’t help but try to get closer. “What is there to be sorry about?”

Iorveth whimpered quietly. “I – you know I took Gwyn’s cure,” he stammered, and Roche’s brow knitted. “But I didn’t think – I want – gods, Vernon, I can’t think, I just want to–”

“What do you want, love? What can I give you?”

Iorveth moaned, burying his face against Roche’s neck, “I want to breed you.”

Roche gasped sharply, unexpected heat stirring in his belly. “Fuck. Like, actually, or like–?”

“Both. Neither. I –  I do want – but not,” Iorveth made a soft, desperate noise. “You can’t carry the eggs. But I can.”

Roche blinked. “Eggs?” 

That’s right, elven biology was a lot different from humans, wasn’t it? In some very key ways, at least, including– 

“You want to have a baby with me?” Roche rasped, mind reeling. That was – he’d never expected to ever try for biological children. But fuck, he and Iorveth were already raising two kids together. Why not try for more?

Iorveth’s face and ears were flushed bright red and Roche smiled softly up at him, tracing the line of that blush across Iorveth’s cheekbones. 

“I – yes, but not – only if you–”

“Was that what you were going to say before?” Roche cut him off, licking his lips as he realized. “You want to breed me?” Iorveth shuddered, attempting to muffle a moan against Roche’s neck. A shiver flickered down Roche’s own spine and he’d never considered it before, had never even thought of it – so he was entirely unprepared for how much the idea of being bred had his blood boiling and his hips squirming and his cock leaking against their stomachs. “You want to fill me with your eggs?”

“Gods, fuck, Vernon,” Iorveth whined, hips jolting against him. “I – can I–?”

He cupped Iorveth’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. Then, very clearly, he ordered, “breed me, Iorveth. Fill me until there’s nothing more to give.”

Iorveth wailed, teeth digging into Roche’s shoulder, and he could feel Iorveth filling him, but it was no different than any other time he’d taken Iorveth, no eggs in sight. 

“So,” he said slowly, hips squirming and rubbing his cock between their stomachs, “how does this work?”

Iorveth moaned weakly, continuing to roll into him. “I have to push them into you.”

“Then do it.”

Iorveth shuddered, kissing Roche desperately. Roche tangled his fingers in Iorveth’s long hair and slowed their kiss, trying to soothe Iorveth’s desperation. 

“Nnngh,” Iorveth’s hips jerked against him, thrusting deeper inside. Roche felt something push his hole wider around Iorveth’s cock, wide enough he could feel the stretch.

He gasped, clawing at Iorveth’s back. The stretch felt delicious, starting small but quickly growing wider. Instinctively, he clenched around it and Iorveth whimpered. “Gods, it’s so big.”

I think you can guess where this is going XD Don’t worry, they will actually stop and talk before making any longterm decisions, but... yeah.

If you read all this way, then thank you!! I hope you enjoyed my random WiPs!

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #don't cry for me Temeria #the witcher #my fics

[bard-llama]

idk i can’t seem to work on anything today, so I’m going through different WiPs. Are random snippets something people would like to see? Like, rn I’m looking at my Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria doc and some of this stuff would be fun to share. But is there any interest in reading that?

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #don't cry for me Temeria

[bard-llama]

Elven Biology

Making a post so I have it all in one place, tbh. Basically an overview of Elven Biology stuff that we’ve (me + brainstorming with folks on the Witcher Rare Pair server. Come join us?) created so far in my Witcher fics.

There are some who claim that elves are little different from humans, aside from such obvious things as ears and genitalia. However, those claimants have clearly never looked closely. Thorough examination of elven bodies shows that there are significant differences from humans.

Firstly, there is the skeleton. Elven bones are thinner and lighter than human ones, and more fragile because of it. Additionally, while humans have twelve sets of ribs to protect our organs, elves have sixteen. This would seem to imply that elves should not be able to twist their lower spine the way humans do, but extensive examination by noted scientist Ireneus var Steingard revealed that elves have an additional two sets of ribs in their sternum as well as two extra sets of floating ribs. This means that while the specific movement of a lower spine twist may look different, elves and humans have approximately the same range of motion.

Anyone who has been near an elf may have noticed that elves have a lower body temperature than humans. This is due to several factors, but a primary cause is the elven circulation system. In comparison to humans, elven heart rates are much slower. What would constitute tachycardia in an elf would be no more than a light exertion to a human. This is because elves have much smaller blood vessels and the stress on the heart to move blood around the body is lesser. It has also been noted by Dr. Steingard that the clotting factor is faster when elves experience blood loss and that elves appear less able to regulate their body temperatures than humans are. Additionally, a noted phenomenon in half-elven/half-human offspring is a tendency towards overexerting their hearts, particularly if there is a mismatch in heart size and blood vessel size, as occurs in some specimens. The elven heart is only a millimeter smaller in volume than the human heart, but in some half-breeds, this difference can be significant.

The health difficulties of some half-breeds has given rise to the idea that elves are physically inferior to humans. This is not the case. Elven muscle is stronger and leaner than in humans, giving them greater strength on a purely blunt force level. However, their endurance is far outmatched by humanity’s, though one must be careful, as elves recover quite quickly.

The elven reproductive system is another area where health concerns can arise for cross-species offspring. Externally, there are two primary differences: ears and genitalia. The pointed elven ears appear to serve as a secondary sex organ for elves, and their genitalia consists of both a phallic aparatus and a birth canal with no external gonads. What is truly unique, however, are the internal differences in elves. All elves bear both gonads and theoretically, all elves are capable of carrying a child to term. In practice, elves seem to experience great difficulty in producing viable specimen, which they attribute to their environment. 

One must take such a claim with caution, however, as elves also claim to bear an internal connection to nature that, it is said, can encourage the growth of plants. If such a tale were true, however, it seems absurd that elves never developed advanced agricultural capabilities.

Fun fact: Ireneus var Steingard is the mage who experimented on Kiyan, the Cat School Witcher. (Witcher 3 spoilers in link!)

#the witcher #elves #reference #my fics #elven biology #not wholly reliable narrator #worldbuilding #don't cry for me temeria

[bard-llama]

Your most memorable scene I've read is from DCfMT, when Roche sees Iorveth's face bare for the first time and it doesn't even occur to him that Iorveth would be insecure of his scarring, so he thinks he offended him by touching his hair instead. Then Iorveth's like "um, people usually notice the scar before the hair" so then Roche feels terrible and offers to look away, but Iorveth takes his hand and brings it to his face and Roche notices the sacredness of this moment... that has stayed with me. My favorite depiction of this scenario

Awww, thank you <3 It's funny because that scene was not at all planned. I hadn't even THOUGHT about Iorveth revealing his scar and I think it kinda worked out because it was almost an after thought (for Roche). Like, Roche just wanted to comfort his lover by stroking his hair, 'cause I love hair stroking. But then Iorveth's reaction shows him how significant this is for the elf and like... Roche just doesn't care about the scar? Like it's there and it must have been awful, recovering from that. But Iorveth is here, still alive, even if he's not completely "whole". So to Roche, the scar itself IS beautiful, because it represents Iorveth surviving something that would've killed anyone else. And Iorveth really, really needed someone who saw his scar like that.

Anyway, I'm really glad you liked it and it sticks out in memory!

Tell me what scene from all my fics is most memorable for you!

ETA: might be helpful to include a link to the fic lol. This scene is from Chapter 10 of (Im)Perfect Strangers, part of the Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria series.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #ask game #my fics #don't cry for me temeria

[bard-llama]

New Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria short!

I had a great chat with the new hire that will be my manager soon and it inspired me to write this bit. Idk where exactly it fits into (Im)Perfect Strangers except that it’s while Fenn’s wrist is still healing, so probably within the next few chapters lol

“Mr. Zoltan,” Boussy tugged on the dwarf’s clothing one evening in the public dining hall. Roche was busy bullying Fenn into letting Imadia look at his broken wrist, because the idiot kept trying to use it, but he saw the way everyone in the area turned at least partial attention towards the boy. It was, after all, less common for Boussy to initiate conversations, especially in public.

“What can I do for you, Wee Lad?” Zoltan asked, smiling behind his bushy beard.

“How come dwarves hate elves?” Boussy asked innocently, probably unaware of the immediate tension that spread across the room. There were the dwarves within hearing distance, of course – Zoltan, Yarpen, and Skalen, most notably – but there were also several elves, because Iorveth had followed Imadia and Rinn was sitting next to Anais. In other words, this could end badly.

“Ah,” Zoltan coughed. “Well, the easiest answer is because elves hate dwarves.”

“They do?” Boussy tilted his head.

“Magda said,” Anais interrupted loudly, “that it’s cause elves were like humans before humans were here.”

That certainly didn’t go over well with the elves present, though Zoltan nodded.

“She’s not wrong, though I wouldn’t, uh, use those words, exactly.”

“What does that mean?” Boussy asked, frowning down at his hands.

“Well, uh…” Zoltan cleared his throat, glancing around quickly to search for either support or an escape.

Roche would love to help, but honestly, he knew nothing about the history between elves and dwarves. And he was kind of curious, though very on edge. There were an awful lot of people around who might have personal opinions about that history, and that tended to get messy.

Skalen Burdon, the alderman’s nephew, ducked his head, pointedly not making eye contact with Zoltan, but Yarpen Zigrin seemed to take pity on him.

“Elves were the conquerors of the continent before humans came along and did it better,” Yarpen said bluntly, and Roche winced, practically able to feel the offense coming from Iorveth.

“Excuse you,” Iorveth’s voice was snippy. “We spread culture across the continent.”

“Yeah, by conquering people,” Yarpen glared at him. “Bah, are you even old enough to remember?”

Now Roche was the one frowning. Wasn’t Iorveth like… really old?

“Not many are,” Imadia said gravely, somehow spreading a sense of calm. “The times Yarpen speaks of started long before the Conjunction of the Spheres. And yes,” she held up a hand in Iorveth’s face, “you are too young. When you were born, elves already ruled the continent, though not without conflict.”

Zoltan snorted, “that’s one way to put it. Elves tried – and failed – to conquer Mahakam.”

“Wait, really?” Thirteen blurted out, blinking in surprise. “But like – even Foltest didn’t really conquer Mahakam. And everyone said he was mad to even try!”

“No, he didn’t.” Yarpen and Zoltan both looked smug.

Roche decidedly kept his mouth shut. There was no need to remind people that he’d been part of that campaign.

“Plenty o’ other places they did succeed in conquering, though. Just look at Loc Muinne!”

Iorveth stiffened. The matter of the extinction of the Vrans was a complicated one, and Iorveth had personal connections to Loc Muinne’s history. It was probably best to move on from this quickly.

“So what about dwarves?” Roche asked.

“What about us?” Zoltan asked, eyeing Iorveth in a way that meant he too was aware of why Roche was changing the subject.

“Well, humans came and conquered. Elves came and conquered. Did dwarves ever? Or uh, other species before the Conjunction?”

“Not really,” Zoltan shrugged. “Not to say that there weren’t some who tried – I’ve no doubt every species has at least some of those. But as a species, we dwarves live in the mountains, which many other species find… inhospitable. Not all of them, though! Dwarves and gnomes have always gotten along well enough.”

“Wait, but we live in a mountain,” Anais pouted.

“Ah, but remember,” Pillow Tits smiled kindly at her, “humans can’t live without sunlight. So we can live in mountains, but we need to return to the surface fairly regularly or our health will start to decay.”

“But dwarves don’t?” Boussy asked.

Zoltan shook his head. “Not really. I mean, there are effects on vision if you don’t experience sunlight fairly regularly. But I think maybe that came later – that we adjusted to sunlight later, and that’s why we can lose that, if we stay under the mountains for too long. Sunlight hurts if you’ve been out of it for too long.”

“Hmm, that’s an interesting theory,” Imadia tapped her finger against her chin and Iorveth rolled his eye. “Dwarves came from stone, yes? I’ve heard some say that you’re eternal like stone as well, but – well, I think that was more poetic than accurate.”

“Mmm, sort of,” Skalen grunted. “I dunno anything about the pre-Conjunction stuff, but when dwarves die, we return to the stone. You can visit our catacombs here, in fact. They’re quite something, I must say.”

“Full of wraiths,” Geralt grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking body had a wraith, pretty much.”

Roche blinked. What had Geralt been doing with the bodies in the Vergen Catacombs and why?

The answer, of course, is looting literally all of them compulsively even though I know exactly which body needs examined at this point 😂 (AKA there’s a Witcher 2 quest where you have to find the fresh body hidden in the catacombs. By unwrapping all of them. And looting them while you’re at it. Just because)

Yeah, idk where this is going, but figured I’d share!

#the witcher #don't cry for me Temeria #fic planning #my fics

[bard-llama]

WiP List

This is gonna be looooong (like, REALLY long), so I’mma go ahead and give you a cut here. But if you’re interested in what i’m working on, take a look!

Order purely based on the order my tabs are in. I’m only counting WiPs that actually have more than a paragraph written, because if I didn’t, this list would be even longer. Also, pls don’t judge me but what I name my WiPs 😂

Post-Coital Smoke

Kinda what it sounds like tbh. I just wanted Iorveth getting high and admiring Roche’s body and then Roche decided to be a tease. At some point, I assume there will be sex.

Angst: Sex object Roche

Iorveth’s POV of realizing that Roche hurts himself whenever he flirts at Iorveth. Premise is that Roche has been groomed (intentionally or not) by Foltest to be his. So when he feels attraction towards Iorveth, he needs to be punished. And obviously Iorveth helps him learn that no, that’s not okay and idk recovery???

Midwinter Feast

This idea was 100% spawned by me trying to write holiday fics, but Foltest hosts a Midwinter Feast where they close the city for 12 days, leaving Roche to get along with the Nonhuman/Scoia’tael(ish) delegation during that time. Also, Foltest might be using the feast as a delaying tactic to resupply his army. I legit have no idea where this is going, I just thought the idea of Roche and Iorveth stuck at a feast for 12 days was funny.

Solstice Feast aka To Birth a Verdant Future

This was actually an xmas gift for @lutes-and-dandelions, but I havent finished it yet 😓 But the premise is similar to the former in that it’s another solstice feast. But it’s set post-W3 with Emhyr as Emperor throwing a party in the new conquered capital of Vizima. Roche broods a lot about Foltest’s memory and how he hates Emhyr and decides to distract himself by hanging out with Iorveth and suggesting they follow an old elven tradition. And that’s all I’ll say. XD

Next Year (Solstice Feast sequel)

Literally set the next year. This time they merge their lives by merging their people’s traditions.

Lily Preserved in Amber

Okay, haven’t gotten very far in this, but I decided it was an elven rite of passage to go searching through the forest for a sign of your future. And Iorveth finds a piece of amber with a lily preserved inside. I haven’t decided if it purely means Roche or if it means his whole family with Roche and Boussy and Anais and all. So far, he hasn’t even found the amber yet lmao. But he did just discover music!

Character taking control of the other and Character B just letting go and enjoying themselves

Under the subheading “Porn Snips”, so uh, yeah. Starts with Roche and Iorveth fighting to decide who gets to top, involves Roche getting choked, and Iorveth ripping Roche’s pants off. Oh, also, they’re currently at a fancy party hiding somewhere in the garden lmao

Based on @moonlights-ordinance‘s art

Moonlight’s working on an adorable piece where Roche leans his forehead against Iorveth’s back between his shoulderblades. I decided to make it post-W3 with both of them working as paper pushers/administrators under Emhyr’s Temeria. And Nilfgaard does not believe in chairs with backs (or, really, Emhyr wanted to see how long Roche’s pride would make him suffer. It’s a long time). The idea is to show development over time as they slowly get more comfortable with touch and start using each other as backrests. And then the sweet scene Moonlight is drawing.

Eliza for @useless-empty-brain aka Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

Next is Iorveth’s POV, but I legit cannot figure out where to start. But we’re gonna see some of his thoughts (like how Eliza volunteered him to stay in Vizima for an unspecified period of time and he said yes even though he can’t and now has to commute regularly because he doesn’t want to miss tea with Roche but also doesn’t want Roche’s spies to catch on lmao) and his curiosity about Roche and Foltest and what Roche’s mission is (which I... totally know.)

Roche’s Scars

@moonlights-ordinance sent me a great pic of a mod for Roche where he had some pretty vicious scarring/mutilation. So of course I decided I needed to tell the story of each one. But really, it’s a story about the stages of acceptance with scars. Both Iorveth and Roche start out hiding theirs, but eventually come to reveal them comfortably in public.

Vernon Roche of the Scoia’tael aka The Value of a Man

Does my title give it away? Oops? So, this is a found family fic where Roche is captured by the Scoia’tael and the elves and dwarves slowly come to see him as - well, I was gonna say human, but as a person, I guess. And start feeling really, really guilty, especially when some not great things happen to Roche. 

Oh also, Foltest is a giant dick and uh, SPOILERS he does not try to get Roche back. Which leads to a whole subplot that will end with a found family for EVERYONE, because they all deserve to be happy dammit.

All of that was just one document lmao. I have 24 documents, some of which have quite a few WiPs in them. 😱

Kiss Prompts

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. AKA How to Fluster an Elf

When I got the idea for How to Fluster an Elf, I decided it was gonna fill the prompt dammit. And then it really, really expanded on me.

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Roche dreams occasionally that Iorveth visits him and watches over him and sometimes speaks, but he can’t understand Elder Speech, so he assumes it’s all gibberish.

Then he finds out it’s not and suddenly he’s not so certain it’s a dream

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Okay, I literally just need to buckle down and write some good kissing. This is set in (Im)Perfect Strangers and Iorveth is pouting about them leaving the gardens, so Roche makes it up to him.

25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

This one won’t actually be published with the kisses ‘cause it’s porn and the rest are T-rated lol. Buuuut Roche and Iorveth are trying to have a secret liaison in the forest when the rain starts. Featuring nature magic, tentacles, and Iorveth getting filled.

Scenes from Another World (aka AU premise)

Old Men in Vergen

Set during Witcher 3, but with an established relationship. Roche comes to visit Iorveth in Vergen to ask for advice on leading an insurgency. Iorveth just wants to feed Roche while he can now that he’s not the one starving in the woods.

Language Aphasia/Deal with the Devil

I wanted to write Gaunter! So I decided that Gaunter is in a mood for some mischief (he calls it being generous) and comes upon a traveling Vernon Roche who wishes that he could be understand Iorveth. Then Iorveth’s Scoia’tael find a passed out Roche in the woods and bring him to Iorveth for judgement. Only somehow, Roche only understands Elder Speech now. He can’t understand Common at all. The Scoia’tael find this very offensive and Iorveth is mostly freaked out that someone who can do THAT was wandering around his forest.

Bunk Beds: The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Based on a silly comic, Ciri convinces Iorveth and Roche to try to help her destroy the portrait. Geralt gets pissed and sends them to Bunk Bed Exile. Shenanigans ensue and somehow they start to get along.

Iorveth’s Scoia’tael Giving Him Shit For His Taste in Men aka The Lovestruck Fox

Right now, working on a piece from the POV of a new Scoia’tael recruit who is discovering that Iorveth’s Scoia’tael roast the fuck out of him over his crush on Roche. 

Speaking of, anyone have suggestions on prime roast material? I am not this creative.

Let’s Torture Roche!

No, really. This one is pretty dark. And told in kind of a different style than my usual, because I felt like it. So, premise is that Iorveth and Roche were a thing in the past, but then Roche was recalled to Foltest’s side and he went. So Iorveth is understandably pretty hurt and pissed (this was decided for a prompt of someone breaking down as soon as they’re behind closed doors). Buuut what he doesn’t know is that Roche is not with Foltest of his own volition. Hostages, blackmail, and torture are all involved and Foltest is a pretty horrible guy. But of course we need a happy ending, so eventually, Iorveth will rescue Roche and they get to recover together.

Life Debt aka Iorveth is an Asshole

The concept for this was that Roche saved Iorveth’s life and now that they were no longer enemies (set during Witcher 3), his honor demands that he follow Roche around until he can repay the favor. Featuring Iorveth being a trolling asshole, correcting the new Temerian Loyalist’s fighting abilities, and Roche being very, very tired. 

In application, it’s mostly angst so far, ‘cause I had to set up HOW Roche saved Iorveth’s life. And then I decided to really hurt Iorveth. But tbh I will probably skip ahead after establishing this stuff, because I just want shenanigans.

King and Country

I’ve got several WiPs for this one, including the Stripes’ recruitment, their decision to change sides, the Stripes being double agents, and of course, Iorveth and Roche’s developing relationship. But hey, I’ve skipped ahead to writing their wedding already, so... you know it ends happily ever after?

Friday Fight Night for Jan 29 (which I did not make oops)

So, this actually turned into a long piece that’s gonna be part of my Chronic Pain series. Basically, King Foltest is treating with the leaders of the Scoia’tael in Temeria and Iorveth is one of them. Unfortunately, he’s having a REALLY BAD pain day, but he’s also determined to be there to represent his people. Roche helps him see sense. Possibly forcefully.

Exhaustion Prompts

“If we’re both in this state, we both really screwed up somewhere huh?”

Iorveth and Roche are trapped in a dream and I got a little stuck creating the creature that trapped them there. But pretty sure Saskia is gonna interrupt their flirting by saving them.

“You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”

In which Roche has a heart attack from too much coffee. Yeah. He’s okay, though! But PT is about to blow a gasket and coffee will very much be disallowed.

Found Family Prompts

Taking Out the Trash for @useless-empty-brain

Literally a story about taking out the trash lmao. We’re gonna see if I can make this intersting.

Touch Starved for @mochii-girl

Honestly, haven’t gotten much done on this yet, but I’m thinking puppy pile cuddles in Corvo Bianco

Coffeeshop AU aka Brewing Romance and Dissent

Ooof I’ve got a lot of bits and pieces of this written, but nothing quite finished, except for the moment when things change from “we flirt as I order coffee” to “I make you special drinks and invite you to come visit me after hours”. Writing a canon coffeeshop au when I know shit all about coffee is HARD.

Curse Breaking

Omg this is one of the first WiPs I started for Iorveth/Roche, no joke. STILL WORKING ON IT! The premise is that Roche finds a feverish and dying Iorveth in an empty Scoia’tael camp, saves him with the power of True Love’s Kiss The Power of Strong Emotions, Like That Which You Might Have For Your Enemy. Then they team up to go save Iorveth’s Scoia’tael from a big bad mage and Roche invites Triss along for the ride, which totally doesn’t make Iorveth jealous. I kinda stalled out at the part where they reach the mage’s hideout and see the results of the mages failed experiments. On Iorveth’s people. It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But afterwards, there might be makeouts. And some sort of implication that they’re all down to do this (minus the horrible, traumatic parts) again.

Roche POV bloodplay

Roche’s POV starting from before his first encounter with Iorveth. Then he has a weirdly sexually arousing encounter with the elf, and tbh, that’s as far as I got. But Iorveth draws blood from Roche’s neck, presses his thumb to it, and then licks it off his thumb. Next, Iorveth was gonna be the one getting Uncomfortably Aroused, but I haven’t gotten that far. No idea where this is going overall.

Iorveth Investigates Roche

This kinda isn’t a real WiP in that idk if I’ll ever finish it. I mostly started it to do some worldbuilding about what public information there would be about Roche. 

Voyeurism AKA Eye on You

Yeah, I don’t have much for the next chapter yet, tbh. So premise is that Iorveth accidentally ends up watching Roche get off at the brothel and finds it really, really hot. Hot enough to get curious and go back for more. Next one is going to involve thigh fucking and Iorveth might possibly get pegged by Daph??? idk

Fake Relationship

Poor @lutes-and-dandelions has been waiting forever for this one and I can’t even find a place to end the scene and post what I have so far. Premise is that Iorveth and Roche are both investigating their missing men and the trail takes them to the Murivel Resort for Couples. So they go undercover. Featuring Roche’s POV of being doubtful, Iorveth using the excuse to flirt outrageously, strip gwent, and a magic amulet that hids Iorveth’s scar and that Roche hates.

Competitive Makeouts AKA The Chase

This was kissing practice and it turned into a casefic! Which is awesome because I love casefics even though I haven’t published any yet. So in this one, as Iorveth and Roche sneak off to makeout, they also end up investigating a conspiracy in the Temerian military. 

Iorveth/Roche(/Kayran) + Roche/Foltest aka Every Kiss Begins with Kayran

In which Roche accidentally walks in on Iorveth’s monthly fuck date with the Kayran and gets invited to join in. Then, somehow,  it starts to turn into a relationship. With an elf and a tentacle monster. And yet, somehow, this relationship is healthier than the one with Foltest. The contrast opens Roche’s eyes.

Pining and Poignards

In which Iorveth stabs Roche with his favorite knife and wants it back and is also maybe pining a lil bit. Meanwhile Roche is rather pissed, but also curious and begins to teach himself Elder Speech to try to read the inscription on Iorveth’s knife. I stalled out in the scene where Iorveth accidentally watches Roche masturbate in the bath.

Iorveth tittyfucking Roche

Look, it’s what it says on the tin. Roche’s POV of Iorveth’s fascination with his chest and how it makes him feel and then there is sex.

Dirty Gremlin Man

Iorveth gets off on Roche being a sweaty, stinky human. Roche pins Iorveth in a fight and Iorveth gets very distracted watching a drop of sweat trail down Roche’s face. So distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t think twice before stretching out his neck and licking it. Then, of course, he remembers where he is. Featuring a very confused Roche, a smidge of jealousy, and Iorveth stealing Roche’s sweaty clothing to do unspeakable things to it. And somehow they get together.

Want me to sit in your lap?

Geralt LEGIT says this to Roche like 5 mins into the Witcher 2 and it’s GREAT. So of course, I had to write a scene where he actually got to. This is set post Witcher 2 while Geralt, Triss, Roche, and Ves are headed back to Temeria. Triss offers Geralt a little stress relief - which involves warming Roche’s cock and watching Triss and Ves get to know one another.

Red is the Rose

So, Chapter 4 is set post-Witcher 2 and Iorveth is obsessing over the fact that the Rose of Remembrance still has not wilted. He wonders what might be possible, so when he hears a rumor that a certain Temerian Commander was taken captive by Dethmold...

Dethmold most definitely dies. But unfortunately, that doesn’t save Roche from the curses he cast. So they go looking for Geralt to find out how to fix it.

This has only been 9 of my documents, y’all. I think I have a problem.

De-Aged Fic aka The language of friendship is not words but meanings

Ugh, I lost my momentum on this one, which sucks, ‘cause the next chapter is so close to done. Iorveth just needs to do a little freaking out first. But then they will both be back to adults and have to DEAL with the fact that they made good friends and would kinda like that again. I think this fic is gonna be purely friendship for them, but they’re gonna get there.

Glory Hole

A fic for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo where Roche hears a rumor that some Scoia’tael go to this brothel on the outskirts of town and hey, he may as well check it out, right? By going undercover and working the glory hole, of course. He never ACTUALLY expected Iorveth would come, but his legendary mouth was enticing enough to draw the Scoia’tael commander out.

Snuggling

Thirteen “accidentally” handcuffs Iorveth and Roche together when they capture Iorveth. This leads to them lying on the cot in the Stripes’ holding cell, spooning. There is banter and tickling and escapes not attempted and also maybe some sex with Inexperience Iorveth (i say maybe because I already started the sex, but idk if it will fit in). 

Petals and Stripes

A weed is but an unloved flower

Okay, the Stripes are going to attempt to woo Iorveth during a battle. Also, there is a stabbing. And then a kidnapping. And then, miracle of miracles, someone actually tries talking!

One person's weed is another person's wildflower

Ves’s POV! She cleans up the mess her idiots make and terrifies the life out of one elven suitor, but first she’s gotta deal with her own conflicted feelings about her Boss, the guy she relies on to show her the shades of grey in the world, loving the elf she’s supposed to kill. 

After that, I’ve got 2 more fics planned in this ‘verse. One is gonna be a fluffy and/or sexy date after Iorveth and Roche have gotten together. The other is a Scoia’tael side story, featuring lots of gossip about the humans sending their Commander love letters.

Love Shack

The Better Part of Valor

Ugh, I’m stuck on the sex again. Roche is having a really shitty day, so he goes to the cabin and signals Iorveth that he wants a round. Iorveth offers gentle (for them) sex and praise. And at the end, there’s a very significant scene where Iorveth removes his bandana. Roche buries his fingers in Iorveth’s hair, but doesn’t actually see his face, as he’s laying on his stomach with Iorveth on top of him.

Medicine

The morning after! Roche wakes up to find Iorveth in the bath, facing away from him, and notices a new scar. Iorveth has to deal with actually revealing his scars in daylight and they discuss the significant differences in elven and human medicine. Hint: I turned my own medical procedures into elven medicine, so it’s pretty fucking good.

PWP Ovi

Set ambiguously late, maybe after Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate. Iorveth and Roche explore what Roche can take. We start with overstimulation, go into consensual somnophilia, come inflation, breeding kink, and oviposition. Because elves reproduce by laying eggs, which is not at all the case purely because I started this WiP ages ago and was horny.

The Picture Says It All

There’s going to be 5 more pictures that Rinn draws for Iorveth. Next is Roche hard at work, hunched over a desk. Then we’re getting some shirtless Roche, for “research”, of course. Then Roche cuddling with PT and the rest of the team, about which Iorveth is not at all jealous. Then a face study of Roche during a fight and uh, Iorveth is uncomfortably turned on. And finally, a drawing of their cabin with a silhouette in the window. She knows.

Roche & Rinn: The Haunting of Barrack 8B

Oh man, I really want to finish the next chapter, because I already have the one after that done. But first, we get introduced to Adda! This ‘verse is going to feature Adda the White a lot more than any of my others have done so far and I’m very excited. Also, Silas continues to be terrified of the ghost and the ghost and Adda become girlfriends buddies.

Roche builds Iorveth a home

Set late in the ‘verse, after Roche knows his feelings, but they haven’t said them yet (not out loud, anyway). Iorveth takes a trip to go meet Saskia do things off screen and Roche ends up turning to his old hobby, carpentry, to keep himself from pining too obviously. So obviously he ends up builing Iorveth a solarium. And a pillow nest. And a scaffold so that flowers that blossom in the moonlight cover the glass and give them privacy.

I got stuck here because Rinn needs to give Roche a hint to get him to build the pillow nest, but I hadn’t developed Rinn and Roche’s relationship yet, so had to go back and do that. But eventually Iorveth returns and they have wonderful I’m-not-saying-it-but-i-love-you sex in the new pillow nest.

Foltest (WiP): Long Live the King

This is actually the last fic in the ‘verse, so I don’t want to give too much away. But actually, I haven’t figured out what the next chapter is, BUT I have the chapter after that started and it is GOOD, just you wait!! I’m very excited.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria

This ‘verse alone, I have 14 WiPs and a dozen more unwritten ideas.

(Im)Perfect Strangers

I am frustratingly stuck on this chapter. Theoreatically, we are going to have a check in on how the mountain and the rest of our cast is doing and then Roche launches his Wooing TM plan (aka dinner, gift, and dancing).

Between Two Fools

Yeah, Roche and Iorveth have very different understandings of what their gifts represent. There is some soft happiness and then a swift rug pulled out from under Iorveth’s feet, I’m afraid. BUT we are almost to the part where the two idiots sit down and actually talk properly.

Unlucky Number Thirteen

Not only do I have more of Thirteen’s story planned, but I have ideas for ALL the Stripes to have stories. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, Thirteen starts spying for Roche. A lot of still-nebulous stuff happens, including Thirteen’s first time, for which he asks Roche to help. Additionally, once we reach the (Im)Perfect Strangers timeline, Thirteen has a special story all his own. It involves learning to read and a secret I shall not yet reveal.

Silas

Like I said, all the Stripes are hopefully getting stories. But Silas’s is coming along nicely. He starts a new life as “Silas”, as a man, and joins the army. Boot camp is rough and awful and he’s not very good at any of it, but one day, Roche comes looking for a recruit. He needs a codebreaker to decipher Thirteen’s scouting reports (another one for pictures). So Silas joins the Stripes, but he’s still terrified that they’ll fnd out and think he’s been lying to them. Fortunately, they’ll be putting his fears to rest.

Stripes Sex aka Earning Your Stripes: The First Time

PT’s POV! The Stripes (pre-Silas) are all still getting comfortable with each other as a team. But Thirteen has known Roche the longest and in a specific capacity. So one evening when he needs to get out of his head, Thirteen asks Roche to dom him. PT is confused and scandalized and then jealous, but he gets to join in soon too. Meanwhile, Finch and Ves have fun with their bratty arsonist and Fenn is loving it.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance

This is very long and entirely build up to porn. And then lots of porn. A question during a random conversation leads Roche to make Iorveth ask him to take Iorveth utterly apart in a consensual non-consent fantasy set when they were still enemies in the forest.

Bath House

This was supposed to be a simple PWP where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth under his breath while the two of them are at the bathhouse with Boussy (who LOVES baths and brought them to the fancy bath house), Anais, and Thirteen (who HATE baths and react to water much like a cat). They kinda took over the story and there has been no dirty talk yet oops.

Iorveth POV: Tutti

Iorveth begins to reclaim his love for music and lets himself improvise and compose again. And he ends up writing a song that is the story of his and Roche’s romance.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses

The Elihal/Hattori side story! Though we haven’t actually met Hattori yet. So far, Elihal is expounding on his past and his relationship with Iorveth (he used to make all of Iorveth’s fancy gowns for concerts). Elihal and Hattori won’t play a HUGE role in (Im)Perfect Strangers, but they will be appearing!

Ves and Ciaran aka The First Rule of Fight Club

Ves is stuck walking a very long way back to Vergen with the memory of Ciaran’s skin against her teeth. And even though elves lie like breathing, she can’t help thinking about what he said about Roche not being worth her loyalty. Slowly, she begins to work some things out.

Sex with Saskia/Dragonfucking

Yeah, it’s what it sounds like. Iorveth tells Roche that Saskia agreed to a threesome and where to meet, but he neglected to mention the rather large dragon that was currently rimming his ass. Roche gets distracted from his confusion by the hotness and watches Iorveth get fucked by a dragon (with 2 dicks to fit 2 holes, of course).

Come Inflation + Piss Play

Um. Yeah, it’s a PWP where Roche asks Triss for a potion that will make him come a lot. And then Iorveth wants more. No idea where it’s going, tbh.

Stripes vs Scoia’tael: Water Balloon Fight

Literally a water balloon fight. For morale.

Baby Mama

Uh, the title is a bit telling here oops. But let’s just say Iorveth and Roche go on vacation to the cabin on top of the mountain again when Iorveth is hit with the sudden extreme urge to breed. Roche is down, but at some point, they do actually need to talk.

King Roche aka fics where Roche is in charge and hates it. Some are more in line with this than others.

Post W3 Becoming Terrorists Together

Ah yes, the murder husbands fic. Literally, Roche gets stuck leading Temeria under Emhyr’s orders and he’s good at it, but he HATES it. Enter Iorveth, who both points out security flaws, joins Roche for a surprisingly unawkward bath, and proposes that they go hunting down war criminals on their own time. How can Roche say no?

Pre-W2 Ambassadorial AU

Different first meeting AU! In this one, Iorveth is sent as the elven ambassador to Temeria and it’s about as much fun as one might expect. Triss and Roche, the other outcasts amongst Temerian court, decide to befriend him. Well, try to anyway. idk where this is going, but it’s been fun. Also, Iorveth wears a fancy braid over his eye, because I said so. Also, I might be planning an OT3 porn scene at some point, because it turns out, elves are VERY sensitive to magic XD

Leap of Faith

Okay, yeah, this has nothing to do with King Roche, but it’s the doc I was working in when I got the idea. In this one, a mage captures Iorveth for Foltest and starts torturing him. Roche, without really thinking about it, decides the mage goes too far, so he kills them. Leaving him with an elven prisoner and a castle full of people who will consider him a traitor for that. They escape the city, but now Iorveth has gotta convince Roche that no, the King really won’t forget that whole murder and prisoner escape thing. 

The whole point of this fic was for me to write them jumping off a cliff lmao. When am I gonna get to that? Probably like last or second to last chapter, tbh. Which should be... after the next one? No, I lied, it’s next chapter! I need to get on that!

An ill-favour’d thing, sir, but mine own aka Possessive Sex

Piss Fic

Um. Yeah. Roche is really horny when Iorveth gets home and is on him immediately, which is great, but Iorveth has gotta piss. Which becomes less urgent as Roche is determined to have his face fucks, but after he comes all over Roche’s face, it’s VERY urgent and Roche is a fucking brat and won’t move out of the way. So obviously the response to this is to piss on Roche’s crotch - which Roche is apparently more than okay with.

Cum Dumpster Roche

Yeah, this one doesn’t have much yet, I literally just wanted Roche getting railed and claimed and L O V I N G it. 

Possessiveness

Iorveth spends a lot of time thinking about his enemy, his nemesis. He’s researched Roche extensively, spent hours thinking up tactics and strategies to outwit his nemesis. He literally knows what Roche named his stupid weapons, but he’s never actually met Roche.

But he’s dreamt about it. The Roche in reality doesn’t look like the assumptions he made in his dreams, but who cares about looks? Because Roche is his, and certainly not some dh’oine king’s.

Tentacles + Breeding

Gods, this one is SO CLOSE to being done dammit, I just gotta finish it!! But it’s a fun one. Iorveth and Roche are fighting, when Iorveth suddenly starts fighting plants, which are fighting back. Then the plants notice Roche and suddenly he’s tied up with vines and his clothes are getting torn off and uh, he’s not supposed to find this hot, is he? But he really kinda does. And then Iorveth goes and claims him and tries to protect him from a nearly-extinct non-sentient plant that sensed a warm spot to lay its eggs until someone else could come along and fertilize them. Iorveth is delighted to be that person.

Dream: Pleasure Slave

Yeah, Roche really likes getting claimed in these. In this one, he has a favorite dream setting where Iorveth rules some grand elven kingdom and Roche’s only role is to bring him pleasure. Not to deal with politics or nobles or policy, but just to make Iorveth feel good. So far, this features cock warming, come inflation, a leather cock cage (so to speak), prostate milking, and a very nice silver chalice that Iorveth expects Roche to fill before they’re done.

Roche wears a collar

This was gonna be a simple lil thing based on me creating Roche in heroforge and giving him a lil hidden collar. But then Iorveth decided to get really sappy and had to design and create the perfect collar for his enemy. And then, much to his surprise, he gets the opportunity to PUT his collar on Roche. Which is great, except the sight distracts him so much that Roche manages to escape.

But the next time they meet, Roche is still wearing that collar, hidden under his chaperon and armor. Iorveth has feelings about that.

Standalone

Crones fic aka And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

So this is the angsty fic that started from a crack premise. Er, one of them. I seem to do that a lot. But in this one, Roche goes to the Ladies of the Woods and asks for his men back. The Ladies agree, in exchange for 6 lifetimes of service. But no creature can reverse death. Which leads to the Stripes coming back to “life” as ghosts - only Roche is the only one who can see them. Ves can’t (not at first). 

Believe it or not, the whole idea behind this was the Stripes roasting Roche as he tries to flirt (terribly) with Iorveth. But uh... somehow it turned pretty dark. Like, it’ll have a happy ending for sure, but it’s gonna be a lot about processing trauma and grief and building families and also curing a plague, because that’s the first assignment from the Ladies.

Stripes fics

Cuddles with the Commander

This is intended to be a sequel to The Pride of Temeria, but I kinda got stuck figuring out exactly how Roche should react. Tbh, I don’t have much of this written yet, but the goal is for Roche to approve cuddles with everyone lmao.

Fire Breating

Okay, this one started as crack purely because I love fire, but it’s actually been really fun. So, Iorveth and Roche are established and Iorveth has been invited to a family night with the Stripes, which is kinda a lil awkward. So they decide to showcase some of their talents - which includes Roche singing musicals and PT breathing fire.

Iorveth is horrified that humans have harnessed this skill.

Iorveth’s missing eye

This is really short and idk if I’ll continue it, but the idea was for Roche to really wonder what was up with the bandana over half of Iorveth’s face was about. And then, of course, to find out.

Iorveth Gangbang

Why is this under Stripes fics, you might ask? Well, I have great news for you. Guess who the gang is?

In which Iorveth and Roche are in an established relationship and Iorveth gets tied up in the middle of the Stripes’ camp while Roche orders his men to take him apart. Iorveth very much enjoys himself, and then when the Stripes are tapped out, Roche shows ‘em how it’s done.

Kink Bingo fics aka that event that I totally failed, but hey, prompts are prompts.

Age Kink

In this fic, Iorveth and Roche both end up captured by unknown forces and end up imprisoned together. I think the Stripes and Scoia’tael are probably working together to find them and save them, but in the meantime, Iorveth and Roche decide to get to know each other a bit better. Featuring muscle spasms, blow jobs, and pain kink.

Eskel/Lambert (okay, a little out of place here, but eh, it’s in the doc and I am still working on it)

Started for a prompt on tumblr, Eskel and Lambert end up fighting and, trying to keep the peace, Eskel casts axii on Lambert. Which leads to Lambert confessing that he bit Eskel because it’s the only way he could get his mouth on him. This leads to some dodged confessions, some frottage, and some snarky banter, because of course it does. 

Tempt Not a Desperate Man aka the Fuck or Die series that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours

Fisting

The next part of the series, where Roche struggles with the fact that he’s been high key horny ever since the encounter in the woods with Iorveth and nothing is satisfying him. Iorveth, on the other hand, is jealous and annoyed that Roche keeps going to the whorehouse.

Then Roche decides to make a potentially suicidal move and enters the forest to try to find the clearing from last time. And, as you might guess from my heading, fisting will be happening. 

Iorveth POV: The Chaperon

Okay, I don’t actually have much of this written, but it’s really cute so - Roche keeps using his chaperon as a cum rag, so Iorveth knits and/or sews him a new one.

“Human Bootlicker”

PWP where Iorveth jokingly suggestions Roche should surrender on his knees - and then Roche does. And asks Iorveth to take his prize. Featuring Roche coming all over Iorveth’s boots from getting his face fucked, then leaning down and licking up the mess while Iorveth watches and then comes over his face.

One Accidental Proposal and Five Attempts At Accepting

So one of the themes of this ‘verse is gonna be the Elven Baths where the Roses of Remembrance grow. As in, they decide to make the elven baths a place they meet up. This is the first time Iorveth takes Roche there, and Roche does not know what significance the roses have. But he DOES know that Iorveth blushes cutely when he tucks a rose behind Iorveth’s ear, so...

Iorveth would like to accept, only Roche doesn’t know WHAT he’s trying to accept.

The Legend

So in the game, there is a legend around the statue of elven lovers above the elven baths. “Legend has it the lover’s sighs are enchanted within these very stones, though only those in love can hear them.” 

Iorveth overhears his Scoia’tael gossiping about the legend and comes to an abrupt realization that Roche and him were the ones they were hearing. Oops?

Standalone Fics

Letters

This is kind of a bittersweet WiP that I mostly wrote in one go and then went to sleep and kinda lost the will for it. BUT the premise is that post-Witcher 3 Roche is in charge of Temeria and his brooding is interrupted when he receives a letter sealed with a forget me not pressed into wax. Iorveth continues to send letters describing his life as a “civilian” in Nilfgaard and how much he hates it and Roche relates a little bit too much. Then Iorveth decides to run away and live on the streets as a musician and he might inspire Roche to start learning the cello and presumably at some point, they meet.

Identity Porn

Iorveth and Roche have a meet cute in Flotsam’s tavern while the elf is listening in for local gossip and Roche is passing through on his way to meet with the other northern kings to get support in fighting against the new emerging threat of the Scoia’tael. Neither knows who the other is, but that doesn’t stop them from starting a relationship where they meet every time Roche passes through Flotsam. But their house of cards can only last so long, and at some point, they will meet as enemies. Who knows what happens then? idk, not me.

Gwent pinup calendar aka Cards Out for Your Country

Hahaha, so I started this series in response to some WONDERFUL art of Roche with his Tits Out For Temeria. And obviously we need more of that, so I created a list of 24 characters who are asked to pose for some pinup art, all in the name of Gwent. So far, I’ve only finished Dandelion’s pose/the introduction, but I do plan to do as many of them as I physically can.

Gwent Game in Corvo Bianco

Wow, I didn’t even remember this WiP, so uh... clearly I haven’t worked on it in a while. But it’s Iorveth’s POV of how surprisingly comfortable he is in Corvo Bianco and Iorveth and Geralt get drunk and play gwent.

Zoltan/Jaskier/Priscilla

A giftfic for Wibbly that involves Zoltan being sappy about his bards and then Priscilla dominates them. Featuring all my headcanons about dwarven genitalia (two holes, one with a retractible dick).

Dijkstra fics

Noticing Roche’s Fucked Up Relationship

Anyone else randomly finding themselves shipping Dijkstra/Roche? No? Ah well. For this one Dijkstra observes Roche and sees a few too many reminders of himself with Vizimir, except Foltest is no Vizimir, and Roche clearly hasn’t learned to set up boundaries. Dijkstra feels weirdly compelled to help him figure that out before Foltest destroys him.

Developing Respect Fic

Also known as “let’s torture Roche 1.0!” This fic switches between the present, where Roche has woken up in a cell somewhere unknown and it brings back far too many memories for him to be entirely sure of what is happening when. In the past, he was captured by Redania while on a mission for Foltest, long before he was anyone notable. Dijkstra comes to visit, curious about this prisoner who refuses to break, to even tell them his name or confirm his country (but he has a Temerian tramp stamp, so they know lmao). So Dijkstra decides that this is not a man who will be broken through torture and decides to try conversation instead. The idea is to show them slowly gaining respect for each other, but like, obviously Roche is still a prisoner. Eventually, he’s returned to Temeria in a prisoner exchange, but meanwhile, in the present, Roche is all alone, with not even guards around and no way to free himself.

and that’s all!! I am... legitimately scared to count, tbh. This post is so fucking long, the number cannot be good for my heart. But, that said, please come talk to me about any ideas you find interesting!! Or anything you have questions about! 

And if you made it this far down the list... wow. Thank you, you rock.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #don't cry for me temeria #wip wednesday #my fics #WiPs #yeah it's not wednesday but whatever i finished the list

[bard-llama]

Are there any headcannons of a character you've tried to subtly sneak into your writing (eg. having them think of a memory in a certain situation, answering a certain way in a conversation)?

Ohohoho, what a wonderful question! There are definitely a few that I try to sneak in here and there! In fact, I know there are several, but for some reason, I can only think of one right now? But it’s one that appears across my fics, so hey!

It is, however, a pretty major spoiler, especially for Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria, so I’ll stick it under a cut just in case. But I’ve mentioned it before, so some of you might already know!

All right, so I loooooove adding in hints to Thirteen’s parentage. There’s actually a whole backstory that I’ve referenced a bit in the Thirteen-centric fic(s?), but that was created jointly with someone else, so I’ll have to think of what I can use of it/how to change it. But the significant thing is that Thirteen’s mother is an elf. I think he doesn’t know who his father is, but it was probably a soldier and was most likely not consensual. He grew up in an elven community, but he was a semi-outcast, especially from specific aspects of elven culture, such as learning Elder. And of course, they’d have no reason teach Common, even if they let him take lessons at all, which is why Thirteen is illiterate.

There’s some cool stuff planned in DCfMT where Thirteen gets to reclaim his heritage a little bit and, for reasons I will not spoil, ends up learning Elder and is given a name. Which is a big deal, because his mother named him something in Elder, but he doesn’t know what, because no one taught him. There’s a reason he decided on Thirteen as his name and it is his and he chose it and he likes it. But there’s something special about someone else giving you a name, and it’s a very emotional moment when it happens.

That stuff hasn’t been referenced, because it hasn’t happened yet, but one part of his backstory that I’ve only referenced obliquely (I think?) is exactly how Thirteen joins the army. Because their elven community gets discovered by Temerian soldiers and when they spot a ‘human’ child amongst the elves, they assume that he was kidnapped. And they make him help them, to prove it. Specifically, they give him a knife and shove him at his mother. So he’s shaking and horrified and scared, and his mother looks at him with sad eyes and says something in Elder - a language he does not understand - then helps guide his hands to cut her throat. Thirteen is eternally haunted by her blood on his hands and no matter how much he scrubs, it never comes off.

Which is why it makes such a difference when Roche gives him a pair of gloves. This scene is in Unlucky Number Thirteen, but basically, being able to cover his hands gives him a coping mechanism that lets him function beyond the immediate trauma response. And it’s part of why Thirteen follows Roche. because sure, it wasn’t intentional, but it was kind and there’s been very little kindness in Thirteen’s life.

So to answer the question - I try to subtly sneak in references to Thirteen’s heritage and his past trauma, but also the fact that the Stripes know about it. Well, not about the trauma, ‘cause he’s never told a soul, but they know that Thirteen is a half-elf. And some of them took that news better than others, but they all mostly... don’t think about it. Because he’s Temerian first... right?

#Thirteen #Blue Stripes #headcanons #the witcher #fic planning #don't cry for me Temeria #ask

[bard-llama]

Where do you think Aryan la Vallete is?

Great question! I'm gonna explore this more specifically in Don't Cry for Me, Temeria, but basically, I think Ari (I renamed him Ari 'cause in English, the name Aryan is a lil 😬😬😬) is with his mother in Novigrad.

Technically in canon, I think Ari is dead, 'cause that's why Louisa ends up working with the Nilfgaardians. In a world where Ari is alive, I don't think she'd need the Nilfgaardians to protect her, but they would definitely have escaped together after Foltest's army took their fort. Because now they aren't Temerian nobles, but treasonous turncoats, so it's not safe for them in Temeria. (If Anais isn't with Roche, I like to think that Natalis got her back to her family, too. And when she is with Roche, getting her back in touch with her family is something that needs to happen, even if she stays with Roche).

Now the question is, would they be safe in Novigrad? Possibly, but they'd have to ally with one of the Big 4. That said, I could see Sigi Reuven deciding to shelter them just for the future potential collateral (and maybe a little bit because he knows what it's like to be exiled from your home).

In addition to Ari, I like to think that Anais manages to get in touch with Adda as well, 'cause she deserves to know all of her siblings.

#ari la valette #louisa la valette #sigismund dijkstra #adda the white #the witcher #fic planning #don't cry for me temeria #ask

[bard-llama]

New fic! Time is Cruel, To Rob Us from Ourselves (a Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria AU)

Title: Time is Cruel, To Rob Us from Ourselves

Summary: An AU of Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria/(Im)Perfect Strangers where a magical artifact sends everyone back through events of Iorveth’s past. Iorveth is less than pleased, but the insights into his character may be invaluable for more than one person present.

If there was anyone to blame for this, Iorveth was pretty sure the Blue Stripes were responsible. From what he’d heard from Vernon, the Blue Stripes were often to blame for strange events like this.

Granted, Iorveth’s own Scoia’tael (well… former Scoia’tael? What was the right way to refer to the remainder of his former army now that they were integrating into Vergen’s society?) could be pretty chaotic, but they at least had a healthy respect for magic.

The Stripes clearly had no respect for anything whatsoever.

Iorveth came to this conclusion after a chaotic morning, when his bizarre day took a turn for the truly insane. It started with guarding Saskia, as most things began these days. He took his responsibility to keep Saskia safe very seriously. Even though she kind of didn’t need it. But she kind of did, too, and they needed her. There was no one who could take her place if something happened to her, which meant that Iorveth’s duty was not just to protect his leader, but to protect the entire world they were working to build.

Well, really, it started late in the night, when the miners on the night shift uncovered a mysterious artifact that positively radiated magic. Not being idiots, the dwarves had immediately summoned Saskia and Triss, even if it meant waking them all up far too early in the morning.

Read more on AO3

#rorveth #iorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #time travel #magic #this is basically an Iorveth-centric fic where everyone discovers personal things about his past and he has very mixed feelings about it #don't cry for me Temeria #AU #don't cry for me temeria au

[bard-llama]

Most memorable scene for me was the first one I ever read from any of your fics. It cemented the idea that rorveth was a Thing (and I wasn't crazy because I wasn't the only one who shipped them). This was, of course, in (Im)Perfect Strangers when Roche drunkenly propositions Iorveth and then blowing his fucking mind and making Iorveth wonder why he'd never had a dh’oine before.

Awww, you made me blush and giggle <3 You are DEFINITELY not crazy and our little ship is growing fast!

I love how I really thought that would be a twoshot lmao. 'Cause when I first watched the rorveth battle scene in the game, my first thought when Iorveth said "I don't regret that it's you," was "oh man, bet those two have history." So I just wanted to write the porny first meeting and the confrontation. But when I was writing it, I had to figure out how the confrontation happened and I think that's when things started to spiral into a whole complete universe lmao

I love it, though. I'm struggling with the next chapter, but I'm slowly chipping away at it. i think I've told you before, but I have SO MUCH planned and I'm very excited for it. Plus, we're 2 chapters away from a Big Moment and just a few more chapters after that we will reach Arc 4 of the 5-part plot. I can't even begin to predict how many chapters the whole thing will end up being, but it is definitely my longest fic ever.

And because I'm me, I already have sequels planned, though they should be much shorter (I hope). Idk if I should share info about the sequels though. Do people wanna be spoiled? I know everyone is different. But if you wanna know, I'll def tell you because I am VERY excited about the entire universe. Like, just thinking about it makes me smile XD

The fic in question is, of course, (Im)Perfect Strangers, the first part of the Don't Cry for Me, Temeria series.

Tell me what scene from all my fics is most memorable for you and I'll share a little bit more about how the fic came to be!

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #ask game #don't cry for me temeria

[bard-llama]

I just learned cool shit about how global climate cycles work, which means worldbuilding yay!

Different fics will draw on it different amounts, but this is what the world generally looks like: 

Conjunction of Spheres triggers start of a glacial period in the north. The south flourished while in the north, elves starved and freak weather events happened and shit. And then the human expansionists came for the elves' resources. 

Humans adapted better than the elves, partially because it was all new to them and partially because humans helped change the ecology elves relied on to feed them. Changing herd land to farming land and such changed everything for the elves. Meanwhile, humans survived and thrived. 

The White Frost (and the lead up to it) triggered the start of an interglacial period in the north. Initially, this means that they have unstable weather and such, but in the longterm, it means more land is open to explore and settle, more resources are available, and land that was once arid is now farmable. Meanwhile the south goes the opposite way - unstable weather and its effects (i.e. crop failure, food shortages, extensive damage, etc.) is why they wanted to seize the resources of the north. That plus the transition of power in Nilfgaard and the general aftermath of war and conquering territory means the South is in for a rough future. In a good world, the North helps out.

#the witcher #rorveth #worldbuilding #this shit is my jam i love how things we can't control effect politics and sociology and shit #same reason i'm fascinated by volcanoes #but i haven't figured out how to fit one into the witcherverse yet #don't cry for me temeria #love shack