#ceri rose

[choices-ceri]

The sound I just emitted shattered all my windows and woke up every animal in a 20 mile radius.

Crimes book! Crimes book! Crimes book!

#Y'ALL I'M SO FVCKING HAPPY #we're so back #EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #choices stories you play #choices #pixelberry #playchoices #choices crimes of passion #crimes of passion #choices ceri #ceri rose #trystan thorne #trystan x ceri #so gassed rn

[choices-tomodatchi-life]

Best friends

🥺❤️🥺❤️🥺❤️🥺❤️🥺❤️

#choices stories you play #tomodachi life #choices #crimes of passion #luke watanabe #ruby webster #trystan thorne #Ceri Rose

[valorousflower]

@archivisim - closed starter

Straight Into Doom

Tenguu City?, Japan

Shido Fujimaru..

Fumiko remembered that name for sure. Saving him from potentially being claimed by the Desolation, and bringing him in to heal in Classic Order territory. She remembered the kindness in his heart. Then, after hearing the horrifying story of what had happened to him, it broke her heart into a million pieces.

Of all the desolating events that has happened because of RSP-3812, Fumiko needed to put that to an end, and so did the Classic Order.

To save the world from the monstrous entity he has become and Shido himself as well, she must do it by any means necessary. But, this was a being beyond most comprehension. It was quite possibly a suicide mission of her own to get this mission done, but she replaced such a thought with bravery.

Just bravery.

"This is General Rose of the Classic Order." the voice of a young woman spoke over a Classic Order communications device. "I need to know the whereabouts of Fumiko Arai."

"[Major Tom]: Fumiko.. Fumiko needs some alone time. She's fought against the majority of the Desolation's threats in the past already. She's probably in her mansion taking it easy."

"[Colonel Eddy]: Alone time is right. She's going into RSP-3812-1 all by herself."

"[Major Tom]: WHAT?! NO! WE NEED TO STOP HER! SHE'S GOING TO GET HERSELF KILLED!"

"[General Rose]: You're right. Colonel Eddy, follow her into RSP-3812-1. I'm calling in Champion Lightstrike into the danger zone as well. Please, stay safe. No one is ready to take on RSP-3812. We can only hope, for him to return as we keep up the fight."

Him, as in the Indomitable One. The Indomitable One was not the type to save those in need, but for his mission of vengeance. Currently, the ascendant being was fighting off Xeth's forces in another plane of existence. A battle between the Indomitable One and RSP-3812 was very unlikely, so all the Classic Order, ex-Desolation forces and the Champions of the world can do is fight.. and pray.

PETAL SPRINT.

Fumiko kept sprinting without tiring thanks to her ability, until she reached the boundary point, looking over what looks to be Tenguu City. She learnt about this city in her earlier years, but never actually ventured into it.. this was the place, to end it all.

Just inside of the boundary, she took out a white notepad with a pen to match its fine color, and proceeded to write on it.

"[written text]: Shido-san, it's Fumiko. I have arrived to save you from the horrors of what has happened to you. I feel so bad for you, that's why I'm gonna save you. Please, stay strong. <3"

The heart in her notepad glowed a bright white. She ripped out the paper from the notepad and placed it down on the grassy terrain, before she sprinted off into the city..

#archivisim #fumiko arai | the light rose #cerys rose | crimson general #eddy kozlov | freedom's force #verse; champion of light

[lesbianraskolnikov]

i think slenderman is sooo funny he began genuinelt scaring people and to be fair could initially be very creepy and had such a hold on him. then the 12 year old creepypasta fanbase decided he was every creepypastas dad in some scary forest mansion. And i still see him that way

#the creepypasta phenomenon still fascinates me i was there during that PRIME era #genuinely allured by the 'creepy' stories but had fun being cery silly about these creept pastas. its fascinsting. #But the whole fanonverse Big Creepypasta Mansion with Slenderdad is my favorite its so funny #and i once realized that accidentslly inspired some setting in fallen rose LOL abandoned mansion where all the cronies hang out.. Oops #floyd.txt

[afieldinengland]

thinking about a key difference between the wicker man (1973) and inside no 9 s7e2 ‘mr king’, namely: in the former, only one child is allowed to observe the immolation, and it’s rowan morrison. in the latter, the children outnumber the adults, and initiate the sacrifice

#oh it’s still driving me nuts. is that why you killed the tadpoles….. symbolic infertility to obtain actual bloodied fertility. #punch one of the great fool-victims of history. etc etc #‘we the children are demanding sacrifices of our own’. summerisle but everybody except lord summerisle #and miss rose are daisy and/or rowan and myrtle morrison #isaac chroner wishes he was ceri #inside no 9 spoilers

[shawolsos]

Shout out to King from My Engineer you would fucking love Try Hard by 5sos <333

#shes got a rose tattoo but she keeps it covered #i followed her around the town but she thinks that im a weirdo now 😔 #anyway #king my engineer #ramking #my engineer #cerys rambles

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part four 

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret

Warnings: drinking, mentions of death and injuries

Word Count: ~6.4k 

A/N: sorry this took longer than expected! I appreciate all of your support so much <3

series masterlist

There had been a few … discussions over who would greet them. Eventually, they decided Rowan and Aelin would meet them first - and the rest of the court the next day at breakfast. Evangeline made the most logical argument - that they would completely overwhelm them. Lorcan added they were stuck with Fenrys’s company for weeks and might already be approaching their limit. 

Rowan had a feeling you and Fenrys got along just fine, you certainly seemed to be back in Antica. An uncomfortable but familiar emotion surged in him. Jealousy? Jealousy that Fenrys got to spend that much time with his daughter, not that he spent that time with you, he convinced himself. 

The carriage rolled up, the doors swung open. Fenrys first, followed by Reya, you, Ani, and finally Ceri. Who hid behind you again, just like the first time they’d met. Rowan tried not to frown, he knew it would take time for her to warm up. 

“You can say hello, if you’d like,” you murmured quietly, hair falling so it shielded half of your face. Were you shy all of the sudden? Ceri took another step forward, stopping a few feet in front of you. She looked back at you, you sent an encouraging nod her way. She paused, shifted her body to the side, and grabbed Ani’s hand - dragging her friend with her. 

Rowan’s mouth curved in amusement as they both paused in front of them. Then, he realized he had no fucking idea what to do. 

Aelin crouched down, arms opened, and the two looked at each other - some kind of silent communication passing through, before they both launched themselves at his Queen. Her laughter echoed through the courtyard, arms wrapping around the two of them. 

Rowan watched them for a moment, Aelin asking them about their trip - the two of them chattering about this and that, about a new card game, something about ‘self-defense’ lessons, etc. 

But, you were quiet, and Fenrys … Fenrys looked like he was about to deliver bad news. You’d turned slightly away from him, hair shielding half of your face and your focus on Aelin and the girls was pointed. Avoiding looking at him. 

“You’re early,” Rowan finally said as Aelin rose. 

“It’s because of the bad man,” Ani said - before Ceri could shush her. 

Bad man. Bad man. Bad man. 

Rowan saw red, crouching to look over Ceri - no injuries, scars, bruises, anything to show something’s amiss. His daughter leaned towards him, cupping her hands around her mouth. “It’s mum that was hurt,” she whispered pointed towards you, in what she probably thought was a discreet way, “not me, but he’s dead now and it healed.” 

“Thank you,” Rowan forced a smile onto his face, clamped down harshly on his anger. 

“I think we have things to talk about,” Aelin said, voice calm and steady. 

“We do.” Fenrys said, you nodding in agreement. 

“I know the perfect guide for you,” Aelin smiled warmly at the two girls, and Reya. It was obvious this conversation needed to be between the four of them, and Reya seemed relieved to be excluded. Aelin led them back, stopping just before the entrance hall before disappearing. 

Minutes later, she returned - Evangeline in tow. Aelin murmured a few instructions to her, referencing the specific wing and rooms for your group, and they took off. 

“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?” Rowan directed at Fenrys. 

You cut in, “it didn’t involve him.” Your cheeks flushed as you found yourself the center of attention - but you kept going. “We went to the park, on our way back I noticed something off - shoved the three of them behind the wards, and kept the attacker away long enough for an archer to shoot him. A mortal magic wielder.” 

Kept them at bay. Against a mortal, you should’ve been able to kill them within the first minute. “You were trying to get answers from him.” Rowan observed, not asked, but you confirmed that with a nod. Fenrys laid a comforting hand on your shoulder, and from the corner of his vision, he saw Aelin’s eyes narrow. 

“The archer killed him before I could.” 

As a nervous habit, one hand brushed your hair away, tucking it behind your ear - you froze, palm over your cheek, white rings around your eyes. 

“They’ll see it eventually,” Fenrys said quietly, squeezing your shoulder. 

Aelin was bristling next to him, and he wasn’t much better. See what? 

Slowly, so gods-damned slowly, your hand lowered down to your side. A nasty looking scar sliced across your cheek. It looked painful, and for it to scar like that … 

“The cut wasn’t bad, but the blade was iron and enchanted. Not a curse, just to leave a mark,” you tugged your bottom teeth between your lips, debating your next words. “I think it’s obvious, the knife wasn’t meant for me. We left the next night.” 

“If there’s any updates, they’ll send word.” Fenrys added. 

“How did it happen?” Somehow, he managed to keep his voice and words steady. Someone tried to kill his daughter. Aelin’s warm hand against his shoulder kept him anchored, kept him steady. Tried to kill you, his … the mother of his child didn’t feel right. A friend, he settled on for now. Tried to kill his friend, and succeeded in injuring her. 

As you explained the story, his temper flared. He wanted to ask how you could be so stupid, how you could put the two … four of you at danger like that, but Fenrys was glaring at him and he held his tongue. 

“You’ll need to see a healer and get that checked,” was all he could manage. 

“We,” Aelin emphasized, squeezing his shoulder, “are glad you both are safe.” 

“Thank you,” the words were soft before your eyes narrowed, a subtle bite edging into your tone, “I don’t need a healer, it’s fine.” 

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” 

“For fucks sake,” Fenrys muttered, “I’ll take you to the healers, let them poke a bit, and it’ll shut him up.” Rowan’s eyes promised vengeance, and Fenrys ignored him. You were biting back a laugh, which he supposed was a good thing, considering the news you’d just dropped. 

“We’ll go tomorrow,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into your side. The way you looked at him - completely friendly and platonic, but an ugly feeling surged in his stomach. They should be the friends that were there for you. “Unless your majesty and highness have an objection,” the male challenged him. 

“No objections,” Aelin glanced down at her nails - a tactic she uses to divert frustration, “but we’ll be meeting the rest of our court for a late breakfast,” she looked up at you, a wicked amusement gleaming in those eyes, “I imagine it will be interesting.” 

“Should I be nervous?” your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, Aelin’s watched the movement, but she caught herself and met your eyes instead. Rowan noted that little moment, something to think on later. 

“I think you’ll be nervous no matter what I say.”

A huff, but you agreed, and Fenrys carted you off towards your rooms. He knew exactly what you’d be seeing -  a suite, complete with a bathing room, bedroom, sitting area, and breakfast table, connected to a small hall - two bedrooms with private baths on either side, perfect for Ceri and Ani, and straight across the hall was Reya’s suite, identical to yours. 

Aelin took the time to hunt through the castle for the perfect set of rooms for the three of you, and decided on these. 

The two girls couldn’t leave without having to go through one of your rooms, and they’d made sure the hinges on the doors all squeaked loudly. Rowan was proud of how much thought they’d put into it, and part of him hoped you would be too. 

He shouldn’t care that much about your opinion or approval. You shouldn’t be taking up this much of his mind, shouldn’t be echoing in his thoughts like this. 

-

Rowan and Aelin had thought of everything, down to the extra loud doors, the twin desks stocked with paper and various colored pencils and paints, the snacks in the small cabinets, the layout of the rooms … you’d walked in to Reya and Evangeline, a teenage woman maybe seven or eight years older than your daughter,  you guessed. But … she was already sitting next to them, another piece of paper out to draw, making encouraging comments to each of them. 

“They’re getting along well,” Reya leaned back on the loveseat, a glass of wine already in hand. “I was kicked out of the drawing circle.” 

“You don’t look too upset over it,” you took your cloak off, carefully slinging it over the back of a chair. 

The trunks were stacked against an opposite wall, backpacks balanced on top of them. 

“I told them not to put anything away,” Reya followed your gaze, “I figured you’d want to do it yourself. I know I do.” 

“Thank you,” you collapsed into the couch next to her. Putting things away felt a bit … permanent. Would you? They’d promised you could explore different parts of Terrasen, but had never given you a timeline.

Couch cushions rustled, glass clanked, and a hefty serving of wine was pushed into your hand. For the first time since you’d seen Rowan again, you let yourself relax.

-

Aelin watched as Rowan paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, wearing down the carpet. She liked that carpet. His fists clenched, on and off. It had been ten minutes of letting him stew in silence, and she was done with it. 

“They’re safe,” she emphasized, “and here, with us.” Evangeline had reported back that they all seemed in good spirits, and the two girls were heading to bed as she left. 

“She has a scar,” he ran one hand through his hair, his eyes meeting hers; and it’s my fault. 

“We all have scars,” Aelin tried to keep her voice gentle, “and it takes two to make a baby.” 

He pinned her with a look that said; that’s not the point. Aelin scented Fenrys, and seconds later she heard a knock on the door. Holding her hand up to Rowan, him freezing in place, she opened it herself, mouthing over her shoulder; be nice.

He shut the door behind him, and leaned back against it, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Go on, ask your questions.” 

“What did you see?” Aelin spilled the words out before Rowan could.

“Not much,” he admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. “She was trying to subdue him - as you know, the archer across the street killed him instead. There was an enchanted blade - iron, with some marks carved into the handle. She destroyed it.” 

“Was he one of the men watching?” One of the lurkers that hung around her house for several days. 

Surprisingly, Fenrys shook his head. 

“We don’t know anything else,” his onyx eyes shifted from her, over to Rowan, “dead men can’t talk,” he deadpanned. 

Gods, the last thing she needs is the two of them getting into it tonight. Fenrys made a quick exit, promising he’d bring you by the healers before breakfast. Then, he and Evangeline would bring you down to meet everyone. 

Rowan, however, was still tearing a hole in the fucking carpet, and she tried a different tactic. “What would y/n say, if she saw you like this?” 

He paused, slowly turning his head to meet her; like he was looking for some kind of trick or trap. There was none, she was just trying to get his head out of his ass. Not seeing one, he finally answered, “I don’t know anymore.” 

-

The healers weren’t concerned, didn’t sense any kind of malignant magic or poison, and only confirmed what she already knew; a blade designed to leave a scar, and that’s it. She was still seething at Rowan’s ‘not a suggestion.’ Overprotective Fae bullshit. He had no claim to her, no need to protect her. The little nasty voice in the back of her mind told her it’s only because she’s the mother of his child, just as he was the father of hers. Co-parents, that would be the extent of their ‘relationship,’ anything else might complicate things - and she doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to think she might end up as a homewrecker. 

Reya linked one arm through hers, your daughters ahead of you - each holding on to one of Evangeline’s hands, periodically looking over their shoulders to make sure the two of you were still present. Not that you could go anywhere, trapped between Fenrys and Reya.

Steadying your breathing, you followed through the oak doors into an informal, thank the gods, dining room. Large windows showed a beautiful view of the city, the table already stacked with food, and what must be the rest of her court.

Ceri had retreated, half hiding behind you now, Ani doing the same to your right. 

“It’s alright,” you kept your voice low, “they’re the new friends Fenrys told you about.” 

“All horrible things, I’m sure,” the female with an ever changing scent. A shifter. Lady Lysandra. 

Fenrys made an exaggerated ‘shh’ noise, drawing a giggle from Ceri, who stepped out from behind you. Evangeline swooped in to take over introductions for the girls, everything happened almost in a blur around you as you shook hands - told preemptively not to bow or curtsey, and ended up seated at the table. 

You watched as your daughter shedded her shy skin, quickly chattering about anything and everything, answering every question shot her away, returning with one of her own. 

Aedion was studying you carefully, and you felt almost like you were put on display. Some kind of relic from the past, dragged up to Terrasen, and you couldn’t tell if your presence was entirely welcome or not. Last night, Evangeline said they’d only found out about you that morning, meaning less than half a day to come to terms with your existence - and Ceri’s. 

“So you’re from Wendlyn,” he finally said. 

“I am,” you sipped your tea. 

“Why did you go to the Southern Continent?” 

Glancing towards your daughter - currently caught up in conversation with Rowan, you noticed Fenrys pinning Aedion with a nasty look. It seemed to say; you know why. You were grateful he was there, without him your nerves might’ve already gotten the best of you. 

“It was not safe to be there. My mother was from Antica, and for honesty’s sake, there’s few places where our kind are well received. You traced a finger over the curves of your pointed ears, “I couldn’t hide my heritage, neither could she.” 

“Were you ever going to tell him?” 

Lysandra, quite obviously, jabbed her elbow into his side. There was something else here … more personal. 

Fenrys had said; “Aedion’s father is … was Gavriel. Like you, his mother kept it a secret for his sake.” 

“I won’t lie to you, I wasn’t sure. I told her that her father’s a Fae warrior and Royal, when she asked, but she never pressed for his name. If she did, I would’ve told her.” Silver hair flashed in your peripherals, and you were aware she was listening in now. “I believe our paths would’ve crossed at some point.” 

Aedion seemed satisfied by your answer, and stopped that line of questioning. The pointed stare from Aelin might have helped as well, because he shot a sheepish look your way, before asking more pleasant questions. It didn’t bother you, you were a stranger, and it’s natural they'd want to assess if you were a threat to their country or Queen. With your daughter, you’d undoubtedly do the same thing. Still, the idea that you would have to prove yourself turned your stomach. 

Everyone kept glancing between your daughter and Rowan, and seeing the two side by side - again, re-iterated just how alike they looked. At first, every look at the silver tufts of hair, the deep green eyes, had been a reminder of him, but over the years the two separated. Sure, you still thought of their resemblance, once in a while, but he’d slipped to the back of your mind, your entire world existing outside of him, two circles far away from each other. Until a few weeks ago. 

Everything will be different. Your fingers tapped against your thighs. A better world.

As long as Ceri was happy, you could find happiness too. 

-

Rowan quickly learned what his daughter was like. Wild was the best way to describe her. Either the best or the worst combination of him and his mother. 

The first time he spotted her at the top of a tree, he panicked. 

“Ceri, come down,” he pleaded. 

“It’s nice up here,” she countered, and sat her ass down, obviously intending to stay a while. 

“She’ll come down when she’s ready,” a soft voice murmured, the scent of roses flooding the area. Roses … without your voice - he might not have recognized it, you’d always chosen Lilacs for perfume, soap, anything. He’d been distracted enough by his daughter balancing on a precarious branch, he didn’t hear your approach. 

“Is this … common?” 

“You get used to it,” you walked up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, a good twelve inches of space between you. “Evangeline is waiting, she brought you and Ani chocolates.” 

Leaves shuffled, a few branches creaked - Rowan winced and tensed - but Ceri was down from the tree in less than a minute, sprinting back towards where Evangeline waited, looking thoroughly amused. 

Everyone seemed to be amused at how his daughter shot his heart rate to dangerous levels. 

-

Three weeks passed, and you grew more and more on edge. Eager to leave Orynth, to see somewhere else in Terrasen. Everyone seemed to watch you. Eyes on you at all times, everyone who passed you in the hall. Their eyes lit up as they saw Ceri, only to narrow slightly as they crossed over to you holding her hand. 

A stranger, who looked nothing like the small girl a carbon copy of the King. 

-

A year and a half passed, and you were still in Terrasen. Everyone else was thriving, and although you didn’t quite feel at home yet, you were getting there. 

The entire court, and the country really, had been more than welcoming - but, you made sure to put a certain distance between you and the King and Queen, keeping it exactly as you’d intended - co-parenting. You and your daughter’s every move was watched, although she didn’t seem to mind or notice, it kept you hyper-aware and a bit paranoid. 

The mother of King Rowan’s daughter. 

That’s what you’d been reduced to. Being her mother was an honor, of course, but you lost a sense of your identity. Reya, sliding more under the radar, helped you sell your goods - that way you knew they weren’t buying just because of who your daughter was. Because of who managed to stick a babe in you. 

-

Your entire group decided to stay in Terrasen, but Rowan barely saw you throughout the last two years. 

For fucks sake, Fenrys saw more of you than he did, and it shouldn’t have bothered him this much. You’d been friends of sorts eight years ago - not long considering an immortal lifespan, but now it felt like you were barely a step up from strangers, like you both didn’t share one of the most important people in your lives. 

“Why is she so distant?” Aelin asked Lysandra, and Rowan started paying attention to their conversation. The two were inhaling impressive amounts of chocolates and wine, lounging in their sitting room. They’d chosen to live in Caraverre, and the shifter definitely boasted, lightheartedly, about it once in a while. If he had his way, which rarely happens anymore, he’d have both of you here in Orynth. 

“You haven’t put that together yet?” Lysandra purred, tipping her glass back as Aelin scowled. 

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be asking you.” 

Lysandra faked exasperation, letting out a long exhale. “Even in Caraverre, there’s always eyes on her. She’s very careful of how it can be perceived, if she gets too close to either of you.” 

“She’s staying away to keep her reputation clean?” Rowan cut in. 

“And yours,” she ran her finger around the rim of the glass, “but maybe that’ll change some, now that she has someone to herself.” 

His teeth clenched and Lysandra’s head tilted - but Aelin had tensed next to her. “Who is it, Lys?” 

“None of my business,” she smirked, enjoying that she had some kind of knowledge Aelin, and he, wanted. 

“You make everything your business.” Rowan cut in. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’ll be here next week, won’t she?” 

“If someone’s going to be around my daughter, I should know of it.” Rowan knew, even if he wouldn’t admit it, that it wasn’t really about that. He trusted your judgment, trusted that you wouldn’t let anyone dangerous around her. Still, he wanted to be a part of your life. Wanted to know these kinds of things about you, and wanted to spend more than twenty minutes with you twice a month. 

“I doubt it’s permanent,” Lysandra laughed and dodged the pillow Aelin tossed her way. 

“Maybe I should visit more often.” Aelin mused, “If I go to her, alone, it might not be as … reputation damaging.” 

Aelin spit the last two words out like she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her reputation, of her being friends with you. 

Rowan wanted to know why you cared. 

He didn’t get a chance to. You avoided being alone with him as much as possible, rarely giving him an opening to ask any sort of questions like that. When he managed to lead the conversation in that direction, you deflected with such ease that by the time he realized it was off topic, you were gone. Aelin visited you on her own, but apparently you either deflected or shut down when she brought it up, and his wife gave up on that - not wanting to push you away further.

-

Something was wrong, and Aelin knew because Ceri was quiet, and she certainly hadn’t inherited her father’s distaste for words. 

Rowan caved first, putting his spoon down. “What is it?” 

She huffed and copied his movement. “My mum’s sad. She thinks she’s good at hiding it, but I can tell.” 

“Why is she sad?” Aelin asked gently. 

Her lips pursed together, debating telling them something. “Aunt Reya and Ani are probably leaving soon.” Aelin met Rowan’s gaze, that was news to him as well. Probably, meaning they were probably waiting to tell anyone until it’s official. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I thought you should know.” 

“We can keep the secret,” Rowan assured her, “how do you feel … about that?” 

The way she stabbed the piece of fruit told Aelin enough about how she felt. “I’m mad, and mum says it’s fine to be angry, but to try and be happy for them too. Ani’s grandmother wants them to come home, and she always complains about the snow.” 

Ceri switched to a recounting of her latest ghost-leopard sighting. She was obsessed with them. “And her partner is going to take her -” 

“Partner?” Rowan cut in before he could stop himself. 

Ceri rolled her eyes, “yes, mum’s partner, is taking her -” 

Rowan stiffened next to her, fist clenching around his glass, and Aelin stomped on his foot, dragging him back to the present. 

“What’s his name?” 

“I don’t know,” her green eyes narrowed. 

“Have you met them?” She tried to ask as casually as possible. 

“No,” her nose scrunched up.

“Your mum told you?” 

Mischief shone in her eyes, “I heard her conversation with Aunt Reya.” 

More likely she feigned sleep and snuck out of bed. Rowan had taught her how to redirect her scent, and she’s putting it to good use. Aelin stomped on Rowan’s foot again - at the smug look on his face. 

He caught her gaze, he’s not good enough for her.

We don’t know who he is.

Maybe Fenrys does.

We shouldn’t interfere … but Aelin wants to, and it makes no damn sense to her. 

-

“Who’s y/n’s partner?” Rowan asked Fenrys - bluntly. 

The male smirked, leaning back in his chair and interlacing his hands behind his head. “Who says it’s not me?” 

Rowan snarled, and Fenrys barked out a laugh. “I’m not, relax. We’re just friends” 

“But you know who he is?” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. Fenrys looked far too amused at this. 

“I know who she is.” 

He’d forgotten that particular detail. “And what’s her name?” 

“I’m not the one you should be asking. Besides, I doubt it’ll last. None of the others have.” 

“Others?”

“If you asked her these things, she’d tell you.” 

“I didn’t ask for your advice,” he growled, tempted to kick him out. 

“Too bad, you got it anyway. Tell your daughter to stop eavesdropping if you don’t want to know.” That’s the problem, he does want to know. Fenrys know’s that too, but he’s just being a bastard for his own amusement. “And Rowan?” He stood, heading towards the door. 

“What?” 

“Neither you or Aelin have a claim to her.” Rowan opened his mouth, as if to protest but … he doesn’t have a claim to her, not now. “Until you do, let her live her life.” 

The door shut behind him. You or Aelin. Until you do. The bedroom door swung open, revealing Aelin, a towel wrapped across her chest. 

“You heard everything?” 

“I did.” 

-

“If you like mum, why aren’t you with her?” Ceri questioned. Fenrys’s fork dropped, clattering onto his plate as he shot an incredulous look at Rowan. 

“We like her as a friend,” Rowan clarified. 

“Aren’t friends supposed to stay with each other?” 

Fenrys and Aedion were barely holding back laughter, and Rowan looked to Aelin, she could handle this question. 

Coward, she said. 

“Lysandra and I are friends, and we live just as far apart as your mother does.” 

“But Evangeline says only special friends make babies,” she pointed her fork at Rowan, “that’s different.” 

The other males gave up holding back their laughter, getting a scowl from the little hellion. Aelin watched Rowan’s cheeks flush as he tried to figure out how to answer this. Your turn, she said. 

He was saved as Ceri launched two grapes towards Aedion and Fenrys, using a bit of wind to make sure they hit their targets; “We’ve talked about this. No throwing food at the table.” Still, he admired the two small splatters on each of their foreheads, “but your aim is getting better.” 

“You never answered my question.” 

Rowan was not prepared for this. Centuries couldn’t have prepared him for this, but he prayed his answer would be enough. “We are not … special friends anymore.” 

She looked ready to ask why, but returned to her food instead. He finally felt like he could breathe again. Someone needs to make a book on how to deal with this. 

-

Aelin was excited, both you and Ceri would be arriving soon, and she was hoping to convince you to stay at least overnight. They had about a fifty percent success rate with convincing you to stay in Orynth at least a bit longer. Since your friend left, it became more frequent. Plus, considering the massive snowstorm looming, Aelin would raise her odds. 

“If I leave now, I should miss most of it,” she knew you were looking at the clock behind her, your teeth were worrying your bottom lip. Even you were doubting it. 

“Or you’ll be stranded in the snow,” Rowan countered, arms crossing over his chest, head tilting to the side. 

“I can handle myself.” 

“Not if you freeze to death.” 

“Just stay,” Ceri groaned, tugging on your sleeve. “She’s not there anyway.” 

Who is she? 

“And why is that?” You raised a brow, and your daughter shrugged her shoulders, but didn’t quite look apologetic. 

“Because they-I didn't like her.” 

“You never met her.”

“I didn’t have to,” Ceri’s wicked grin sent a shiver down her spine. Aelin recognized the look on her face, she’d seen it all too frequently in her husband. You sighed, but abandoned the argument, instead watching as she ran off, spotting some of her friends down the hall. A long time ago, they gave up trying to get her to stop running in the castle. 

“What did she do?” Aelin forced amusement on her face. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “One day she showed up at my door - while Ceri was at school, told me it wasn’t going to work, and Ceri came home looking very pleased with herself.” 

“How long were you together?” Aelin linked an arm through yours. 

“A few months,” you hummed, admitting, “It wouldn’t have worked long term.” 

-

You’d been here for three days, trapped by the storm. The longest amount of time since you’d arrived in Terrasen, and the most at peace you’d felt. It should be the opposite, really, considering how much effort you’ve put into avoiding Rowan specifically, but their company was enjoyable and put you at ease. Aelin made herself difficult to avoid. She developed a habit of randomly showing up on your doorstep, for book exchanges or to ‘get a break from him.’

Aelin let you borrow some clothes, considering you hadn’t planned to spend the night, and convinced you to let her braid your hair. 

“You’re not horrible at it,” Ceri informed Aelin and you winced. 

“Not horrible?” Aelin smiled at her, taking the ‘compliment’ with ease. “Last time you said I was doing great.” 

“I said you were doing better.” 

“Then who’s the best at it?” You teased, already knowing the answer. 

“Evangeline.” 

Now, it was just the four of you in a small hearth room - a fire roaring in the corner, an oak table filled with warm and heavy food, three pints of ale and one hot chocolate. 

“I want to move here,” Ceri announced at the table.

Gods, maybe she could’ve mentioned you to this before - not in front of them as well, backing you right into a corner. Eyes shuttering closed, you let out of a slow breath, giving yourself a few seconds before opening them again. 

“We can talk about it,” you promised her, sending an apologetic look to Rowan and Aelin. But they … they seemed excited about it. It makes sense they’d want Ceri closer. A few years ago, you told yourself you’d go where she wanted. If she wants to be here … there’s not much holding you to Caraverre really. Not much holding you anywhere, besides your daughter. That haunting sense of loneliness crept back into you. 

“What’s there to talk about?” 

“It’s a big change,” Rowan swept in, “something we can talk about later.” 

“I want my whole family together.” 

Family. 

It was impossible to miss the excitement in Rowan’s  eyes, the same one echoed in Aelin and Ceri’s. In everyone but yours. Yours were filled with trepidation and concern. 

“Quit worrying so much,” Reya told you, in the days before her departure. “You’ll make yourself miserable.”

-

“Are you moving to Orynth?” Aelin asked later that night, convincing you to share a bottle of wine with her. Rowan was in the corner, reading some kind of report, but his eyes stopped moving, head tilted slightly to listen in to the conversation. 

“Ceri wants to,” one finger absentmindedly ran over your scar, “wants both of us to.” For a bit, you thought she may have worded it wrong - that she just wanted to reverse the roles and live primarily with Rowan. But, she’d insisted both of you come here. 

“There’s not a chance she’d move without you,” Aelin plucked your empty glass out of your hands, filling both of yours halfway. 

“Thank you,” your fingers brushed as she handed it to you, and you could’ve sworn she lingered for a second. It’s the wine. Blinking heavily to bring yourself into focus, you admitted, “I’m glad,” and hoped they’d interpret your flush on the cheeks as alcohol-induced. 

“We’ll be glad to have you here,” she countered. 

“We’ll have to start looking at homes.” 

“Live in the castle,” Rowan said from his corner, papers now resting on his thighs. 

There it was, the demanding tone. If he thought he could bark an order and bring her to heel, he didn’t know her as well as you thought he did. Then again … he’d changed, and so had you. 

You shook your head, “It’s not a good idea.” 

“Why?” Aelin was facing you now, legs curled up under her. To give yourself time to think, you took another drink.

“We all know how it’ll -” 

“I don’t care how it looks,” Rowan cut you off, “you’re the only one who does,” he added - a tad gentler. 

“I like to keep a low profile.” 

“You like to hide,” he countered, “we haven’t kept Ceri a secret.” 

“There’s a difference between just our daughter, and both of us living here.” 

“What will it take for you to stop being a damn coward? To stop hiding?” 

“Rowan,” Aelin warned, her voice sharp. 

Tense silence filled the room, but Rowan didn’t seem to regret his words - not one bit, and that incensed you further. 

“I’m not a coward,” you snarled, chest tightening, cheeks turning red. Oh, he knew the right words to light a fire under your ass. To push you into enough anger to get a reaction. Calm was your default. Always calm, always composed, always steady. The current of anger and resentment, the feelings you buried so deep inside, threatened to sweep you under.

“Rowan,” Aelin snarled, louder, as his mouth opened. His jaw slammed back shut, giving you a chance to get the rest of your words out.  In. Count to four. Out. Count to four. 

“There’s a good reason for my fear,” your voice shook, despite your best efforts, hand trailing over the scar again. “Hiding has saved me more often than not.” 

Aelin’s brow furrowed, but Rowan’s eyes flashed in recognition.

The top of a hill, crouched in a tree, the magic your mother bent - the wards last minute designed to keep you out, to keep you away from them. Away from the slaughter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get past them, but couldn’t convince yourself to run away either. Instead, you watched as the soldiers fell, watched and hid. 

A warm hand squeezed your shoulder, and you jerked, lower back hitting the arm of the couch, “sorry,” you murmured, still half in a daze, trying to shake the memory away. Turquoise and gold eyes peered at you with concern, her hand slowly retreating, body posture pointedly relaxed and unthreatening. 

“Aelin doesn’t know,” Rowan cleared his throat. You’d spilled that story to him one night, both of you plied with a good amount of liquor. It surprised you he hadn’t shared that with her. “It’s not my story to tell,” he added, reading the look on your face. 

“It is safer for the two of you to live here.” Aelin said quietly. Maybe it was unintentional, but she played the right card. Swallowing a bit of discomfort for safety is a sacrifice you could make. Maybe free yourself too, to stop worrying so much. If they didn’t care about public perception, you had no reason to. 

“If you still care about how it looks,” Aelin continued, ignoring the look Rowan tried to pin her with, “think of it this way; people will be happier to see a family together, considering how many were torn apart.” 

You could see exactly how she made a great queen. A few phrases from her changed your mindset enough you were on the verge of agreeing, but you made them wait in a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. But … you weren’t ready to let go of it, not just yet. 

“Do you really think it’s that unsafe? For us to live outside of the castle?” Unintentionally, you were drawn to the three kingsflame preserved on the mantle. Beautiful small red and orange flowers, encased in crystal. Selfish, a nasty voice in your head crooned at you, they’re trying to help. 

-

Rowan didn’t detect any kind of accusation in your question. The short answer would be no. He didn’t believe Orynth was unsafe in general, but he didn’t … trust anyone with you or Ceri’s safety. Any chance, even infinitesimal, was too much of a risk to him. 

When the silence dragged on, you stiffened, “or is it me, that you don’t trust to keep us safe?” 

“We trust you,” Aelin rushed, thankfully without hesitation, sensing the anger creeping back in, and Rowan nodded his agreement. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen you truly angry, and a small part of him liked poking these reactions out of you. To do something most others couldn’t, to break the careful calm you’ve built over the years. It was there when he knew you, but now it was nearly unflappable. Still, he didn’t want to do that if it would hurt you. 

He thought about if he’d answered “no” to your question. He does believe in you, but if he’d said that … you might have lost the confidence you’d built in your work, and trust in yourself. Real wards and protective enchantments were difficult to come by, and rumors of your work reached Orynth - under a false name, but he knew exactly who it was. 

You glanced down at your lap, tapping your fingers against your leg. Either deep in thought, or nervous.

“I don’t know if it would be good for her, spending all of her time here. She doesn’t want to be a princess.” 

Rowan had heard that before, from his daughter, what felt like hundreds of times by now. 

“I’m aware,” he deadpanned, watching the corners of your mouth turn up. 

“I’ll speak to Ceri, before we make any decisions.” Aelin couldn’t hide the relief on her face, neither could he. Now, just to get his daughter on their side. At the hint of challenge in your eyes, he had a suspicion that might be more difficult than he expected. 

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

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotWeek Mar 3 - 9, 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA |🔹Submitted by creator

BACHELORETTE PARTY

Gardenia in Blossom ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| BP NB!MC - @aallotarenunelma

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Blades Full Listing Week Ending March 9, 2024

BLOODBOUND

Hide Me In Thy Wounds - Part 2/2 ✒️🔹| Gaius Augustine x MC - @gaiuskamilah

CRIMES OF PASSION

Crimes of Passion Drabble ✒️🔹| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC by @lilyoffandoms for @storyofmychoices

Gabriel Rose 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @lilyoffandoms

Home Without Part 3 ✒️🔹| m! Trystan Thorne x F!MC by @thosehallowedhalls

Kiss and Say Goodbye 🎨🔹| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC by @/artbyainna (C: @jerzwriter)

Lilah Rose (COP F!MC) 🎨by @lilyoffandoms for @storyofmychoices

Royalty Over Loyalty ✒️| f!Trystan Thorne x M!MC - @kwaj115

Trystan Thorne Fanart 🎨by @lilyoffandoms

What Doesn't Killy You (Series) ✒️| Sebastyan Thorne, Marguerite Thorne, Trystan Thorne - @choices-ceri Chapter 2

THE CURSED HEART

Kieran x F!MC Fanart 🎨by @bri1234

Oleander Fanart 🎨 by @artbyalz

ENDLESS SUMMER

Never Had a Friend Like Me: Part 1 ✒️ | Diego Soto & MC - @marmolady

GUINEVERE

Lancelot du Lac 🎨🏳️‍🌈by @lilyoffandoms

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Cas Harlow x OC Fanart 🎨 by @sadxlee

Cas Harlow x OC Fanart 2 🎨 by @sadxlee

Esme (ID F!MC) 🎨 by @artbyalz

IT LIVES WITHIN

Freesia Gaze ✒️🔹| Abel Flints x F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Martin Vanderweil Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

The Three Fates 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Original Characters - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

MOTHER OF THE YEAR

Levi & Lily Fanart 🎨by @lilyoffandoms for @storyofmychoices

Zoey 🎨 by @lilyoffandoms

MULTIPLE STORIES

Choices MCS 🎨by @cassiopeiacorvus

NIGHTBOUND

Forever Royal ✒️🔹| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Open Heart Full List Week Ending March 9, 2024

QUEEN B

I'm Not Needed, Never Will I Be ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Ina Kingsley x MC - @kwaj115

RED CARPET DIARIES

Classic Hollywood Glamour 🎨| Thomas Hunt by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd for @storyofmychoices

Happiest of Birthdays 🎨| Thomas Hunt x F!OC by @weetlebeetle (C: @theartoflovingthomashunt)

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 19: Built to Last

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Liam Rys x M!MC - @justcallmefox89 Chapter 20

Hirbawi ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Drake Walker x MC - @petiteboheme

Maxwell Beaumont x MC 🎨by @bombomangooo

Princesa Real (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @belencha77 Chapter 1: El Amor no Existe Chapter 2: Erase Una Vez 🔹

The Royal Romance: Once Upon a Time (Chapter 2) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @fadingreveries

SUNKISSED

You're Always Going to be a Wildflower ✒️🔹| Nate, F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

THE UNEXPECTED HEIRESS

Christie Jane Hayes (MC) 🎨@lilyoffandoms for @storyofmychoices

WISHFUL THINKING

Amaryllis Bliss ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| Jamie Lewis x F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

#choices fanfic #chocies fanart #bachelorette party #bloodbound #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #the cursed heart #endless summer #guinevere #immortal desires #it lives within #laws of attraction #mother of the year #nightbound #open heart #queen b #red carpet diaries #the royal romance #sunkissed #the unexpected heiress #wishfull thinking #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart #choices stories you play #choices

[charlicpace]

NAME INSPO: doctor who edition ! it's official, i'm back in my insufferable era, and i can only apologise in advance. let's be real, we should just skip the entire list and create a set of twins called gallie and freya, you in ?

adelaide

adam

alistair

amelia

amy

andy

angel

april

astrid

beau

bliss

bob

brannigan

brook

cal

canton

cantrell

cathica

cerys

christina

cooper

clyde

crete

cassandra

clara

dane/s

danny

donna

eddison

elton

esther

evangelista

everett

francine

grace

graham

grey

gwen/yth

harriet

harper

heather

ianto

ida

idris

jabe

jack

jackson

jacqueline

jake

jast

jenny

jessica

jethro

jo

john

kelsey

lake

lance

lazlo

leo

leticia

liberty

lillith

luke

lynda

margaret

maria

martha

matteus

max

melody

mickey

moss

nancy

noble

osgood

oswald

oswin

owen

preston

ram

rani

renette

rex

rhys

ricky

river

robina

rory

rose

rosita

ruby

ryan

sally

sanjay

santini

sarah-jane

saxon

shaun

shereen

skaro

soloman

sparrow

steffi

suki

sunday

suzette

sylvia

tallulah

tanya

thay

toshiko

wilfred

wolfie

yana

yasmin

yvonne

zachary

#ADDIE POSE #ABI ZORBALOFF #CAT(HERINE) NUN #name help #masterlist #rpc #rph #rpt #rp masterlist #rpcw #my help

[vorchagirl]

writing prompts

14 and 25 for your choice of Ryder

A/N - Thanks for the prompt! Combining "she clouds your judgement" and "we have three hours" was a little difficult, but I made it work! Enjoy! I went with Reyes & Cerys, set well before High Noon.

-

"You told the Pathfinder?" Keema's voice rose sharply, and he felt her pin those luminous blue eyes on him.

"Yes." Reyes didn't look up as he continued flicking through reports on his datapad.

He'd known she would would make a big deal about this. She liked Cerys, but she didn't trust her any more than she trusted Sloane. The Pathfinder was an outsider, and one of the invaders who wanted her people's land.

"You told her you're the Charlatan?"

He finally glanced up. "Yes."

Keema rose from her seat at the bar and joined him at the table. "Are you mad? She's Initiative, Reyes! She's practically the enemy! A useful tool for taking out Sloane, yes, but she'll betray us the moment her superiors give the order-"

"She won't." Reyes set the datapad down with a sigh. "She's on our side and she wants Sloane out as badly as we do."

The angaran woman scoffed. "I highly doubt that. She hasn't had to live under Sloane’s thumb! Scraping a living and struggling to survive while the bitch bleeds us dry! She didn't have to watch as Sloane introduced a drug into slums that reduced my people in gibbering wrecks! And your precious Pathfinder doesn't have to live with the threat of beatings and violence if we don't pay protection fees!"

He drew in a deep breath and picked up his whiskey as Keema ranted, watching the condensation bead along the rim.

"Nevertheless," Reyes broke in quietly, but with enough conviction that Keema shut up. "She is the one who got the drug out of the slums, and she's made her stance on the beatings and violence clear. Cerys hates Sloane and wants her dead. The Pathfinder will help us, I've ensured her loyalty."

His body clenched as he remembered exactly how they had sealed their deal in his hideout in the Draullir caves. He could still feel her body against his, could still taste her kiss on his lips. Cerys had been everything he'd thought she would be and more, because despite her good girl exterior she was a very very bad girl in bed.

The rest is under a cut!

And she was very susceptible to his charms.

Keema’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled ever so slightly as she read his expression. Reyes didn't flinch under the scrutiny; he liked Keema. She was useful and she recognised an opportunity when it came along. But her mistrust of Cerys Ryder was blinding her.

"You slept with her, didn't you?" A knowing smile slid across her face and she tossed her head back and laughed throatily. "Reyes Vidal, the consummate player got played by a goody two shoes Initiative woman barely out of her teens. I never thought I'd see the day when a woman whipped you so soundly."

Reyes clenched his teeth at her phrasing and set his whiskey down without taking a sip. "I didn't get played, Keema, I-"

"But you did sleep with her despite your policy of not mixing business with pleasure?" She sounded intrigued, and she reached for his glass, draining the whiskey one gulp. "Know what I think? I think you're blind when it comes to the Pathfinder. I think she clouds your judgement until you can't see straight-"

Reyes grinned and shook his head. "No. I've just tied her to us so tightly that she can't betray us, even if she wishes to. If she does, the Initiative will find out just how much she's meddled here on Kadara. She's done things the Resistance would crucify the Initiative over, and she's already become involved in our little Exile war - something the Initiative has forbidden her from doing. Trust me, she's on our side."

And of course, he had slept with Cerys to seal their deal, but not because he'd planned to. He liked her and he'd wanted her. She made him feel things he hadn't felt for a long long time. And perhaps most importantly if all, she gave him hope that maybe he could succeed here on Kadara and turn things around.

Keema watched him carefully and finally sighed, setting the empty glass down. "I think you're a fool, but if you trust her, then I'll trust you." She leaned back and smiled. "And if she tries to betrays us, if I even suspect she'll betray us, I'll have her killed. Fair?"

Reyes glanced up as a flare of anger shot through him at the threat. Cerys was his now - if anyone tried to harm her they'd find out how dangerous he could be. Would Keema would do it, he wondered. Probably not, but if she did hurt Cerys he would rain hell down on her and her people in retribution.

She had to know that.

He bared his teeth in what he hoped looked like a smile. "She won't betray us."

"Fine," Keema waved a hand, dismissing the Pathfinder. "But onto more pressing business, have you decided which of Sloane’s men you'll use to take out Kaetus?"

Reyes' smile stretched into a genuine grin, and he passed the datapad to Keema. "I have. The bastard won't stand a chance, and Sloane will fall for this hook line and sinker. The turian is her weak spot and she'll go ballistic when we hurt him."

"Hmmm," she nodded as she flicked through the names of the men, her expression approving. "Good choices. Have you decided when this little event will take place?"

"Three hours from now."

Keeme's head jerked up in surprise. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

"The longer we wait, the greater the chance that one of the men will have an attack of conscience. I won't risk that. It happens today."

He lounged back in his seat and gazed around the room at the assembled Collective Representatives, his most trusted lieutenants ready to follow his lead and die for him. The chess pieces were in place, all he had to do was make this final move and it would be checkmate for Sloane.

"Today," Reyes met Keema’s eyes and held her gaze, "Sloane dies."

She grinned and poured them both another whiskey. "I'll drink to that."

#reyes vidal #reyder #mass effect andromeda #my writing #saints and Liars

[choices-ceri]

"What were you doing at the time of the murder?"

Trystan and MC:

#choices #choices stories you play #choices crimes of passion #crimes of passion #pixelberry #ceri rose #crimes of passion 2 #trystan thorne

[avampyone]

My FFXIV OC blog

I'm still a bit new to Tumblr, but I've been meaning to make a pinned post. Feel free to call me Ded, Pharos or Hemi if that's easier! Chill, non-binary (any pronouns), pan goth with a love for vampires, RPGs and horror games! I may reblog content from other fandoms I adore.

I go between content and occasionally rping or visiting RP venues in game - venue recs welcome! I'll be posting primarily gpose (mostly Hemlocke being my main) on here but will include gpose/story snippets and writing when I have the time and energy to do.

I'm currently working on revising my carrd, but here's some of my FFXIV OCs below:

Hemlocke:

Former Ishgardian noble who’s come to Eorzea searching for a specific black mage cult. A workaholic - Hemlocke is usually busy with bartending or working off his debt to the Thaumaturge guild. Confident and reckless, you’ll rarely find him without a smirk on his face no matter what situation he's facing. A mysterious elezen who's easy to talk with but difficult to truly know. Unfortunately, his supernatural constitution affects his ability to wield magic effectively, and he's likely one of the worst cooks you'll ever met. Hemlocke has a pet bat named Bruce.

Dr Arazul De'Fleur:

A renowned doctor born of the De’Fleur family of Old Sharlayan - quiet, enigmatic and calculating. Like his father, he excels in medical practice and alchemy. A run in with the Garlemald empire and surviving Black Rose changes the course of his life forever. He awakes with an odd mark over his eye, silver hair and lips stained with a purple hue proving remnants of the poison lingers, unbalancing his aether. Worst of all, he develops a ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality’. Will he ever find a way to cure himself completely?

Seiro Malkavi:

A WoL and a skilled hunter of the Dotharl clan from the Azim Steppe. His stoic demeanor hides a softer interior, unable to ignore a cry for help. He's honest, straightforward and generally warms up to others quickly. After a tragic incident involving a friend of the Mol clan and in disagreements about war, Seiro leaves his homeland to become an adventurer. The lust for battle and desire for stronger opponents consume all sense from him, and he finds the thrill of the fight in hunting monsters.

Cerys La'Sorciere:

An eccentric sorceress from the Churning Mists who wields a powerful command over the elements and plant life. She has a knowledge of herbal remedies and potions. Merciless to her enemies and seen as a trickster to many – At her core, Cerys carries an ancient secret that none would believe. Unwelcomed in Ishgard, she is the last of the long line of the La’sorciere family whom have made the mists their home for many decades. She allies herself with the Moogle tribe, dragons and the RedBills.

Amaranth Vyce:

A Dhampir priest in training from Ishgard. Trained from his youth at the orphanage, Amaranth primarily fights against the packs of the feral undead and aids Hemlocke when he can. He seems cold, vicious and detached, but he truly doesn't want to harm anyone unless he has to. One of his strengths is the strong connection to spirits and ability to see/talk to them. As a dhampir, he naturally struggles with less than priestly thoughts and hopes fervent prayer to the fury will overcome this.

FFXIV NPCs:

Carvallain De Gorgagne, considering Deryk.

#hemlockeffxiv #ffxiv oc #pinned intro #ffxiv rp #my blorbos

[valorousflower]

Enduring Devastation (v; champion of light)

Petal Sprint. With the rose trail behind her, she sped her way throughout the forest trees, then up the mountain where she can get a better view of where this new superfortress of the Classic Order was. The last one was destroyed by Eiji Kawamura, the Hornet. This time, things will be different, much different with Fumiko around.

Superfortress Kilo. Just like any superfortress, it was a powerhouse, and had no weaknesses. The newly forged hexagonal composite plates that the walls had, of the 2040s. Extraordinary cybersecurity that even Kawamura himself can't get in. Lasers, turrets, rockets of ground and anti-air and heavy machine guns littered around the area. An energy forcefield to protect the place from heavy fire, which is also seen in its Colossus Tanks. Heavy laser turrets that destroyed superweapons in the air coming at it. Multiple strong aircraft on standby. Multiple hidden bunkers around the terrain of the superfortress which armor divisions can enter to catch their attackers by surprise. Classic Order supersoldiers found shelter to a place like this, and would defend the fort at all costs.

And, this was the home of the four star general Cerys Rose. She has seen the struggles of the lone Champion Fumiko in her battle against the forces of the Desolation, now it was her chance to step in and help. Worst of all, her archnemesis had poison and fire, her two main weaknesses.

Fumiko spotted it, and ran her way towards it. A grand gate. Two personnel in super heavy juggernaut armor. They saluted her.

"Fumiko Arai, right on time. General Rose has a gift for you. Don't keep her waiting."

A heavy voice from the juggernaut. The young girl saw the gate open horizontally, and gently walked her way through the garrisoned soldiers around her. A super hind helicopter that was currently not in use on a helipad, multiple small housings for the beds of the soldiers, the soldiers themselves, heavily armed, doing the usual chit-chat and having their lunch.

She entered further inside where the center of the superfortress was, where even more soldiers were passing by. Some have even saluted the Champion, recognizing her immediately. It was the general's quarters that she needed to find.

So, she decided to try and communicate with a soldier, if they knew sign language. She approached a man with a fully coated helmet, body armor, and light machine gun.

[sign language]: I apologize to bother you, but where is your general?

"I'm sorry, Miss Arai?"

Fumiko closed her eyes and sighed. But then, another soldier decided to step in to translate.

"Corporal Bryant! She is saying where is the general."

"Ah. Just a bit further down the circular hallway. You'll see an elevator, take the very top floor. Then, down the very end. That's where General Rose's quarters are."

Fumiko nodded with a grin, and formed a heart with her hands. She walked forth where the elevator was, entering inside, then up she went.

The door opened, and she saw another hallway with doors to rooms that belonged to high-ranking officers. But most of all, the room towards the end of the hallway was the four-star general's, which Fumiko wandered her way towards.

A knock on the door, and then an opening of the door in just mere seconds. A crimson-haired young woman, in her mid 20s. She smiled; it was an honor to finally meet the Champion of Japan.

"Hello, Miss Arai. I am Cerys Rose, and I'm glad to have finally met you. Please, come inside."

Fumiko can only nod, and sat down in a nearby chair. Cerys had sat down by her desk. A strange device was right on top of her device. A slight tilting of her head from Fumiko; is it what she's being given?

"I know it's really stressful out there in Tokyo. You stopped a bunch of Desolation Elites from harming others, you would foil Eiji Kawamura's plans, attack his forts and labs alongside Classic Order armies. You've been making allies on your own. You are doing well."

Fumiko smiled at that. And the faith that the people of Tokyo, Osaka and Kyoto put into the likes of her. She'd know of Dave Vincent, the Lightstrike, a fellow Champion and supersoldier of the Classic Order, who is the greatest hero to ever live. He had everyone on his shoulders from all around the world, who he protects at the speed of light.

[sign language]: I wanted to do more, but the Hornet's poison and fire has been making it excruciatingly difficult for me to approach targets. I wish to do so much more than what I have already done.

"And you will. I don't wish to make our conversation too long. I know you have business to attend to." The four-star general stood up from her chair, and handed her the device. Fumiko took it. "Put it on your waist. It will shield you from all the poison and fire."

That.. was a reliever. Fighting at a considerable rate was something that she wanted. But, she was smart enough to know that there was a catch.

[sign language]: Please, tell me what its limits are. I know there are some.

"I will start with the strengths. It will protect you from even Kawamura's powerful toxins and fire. But, it will drain the shield, and with enough damage it will deplete. It takes a long time to fully recharge, so be careful with it."

Fumiko equipped the shield device around her waist. A white pulsing energy formed around her body, and a white outline momentarily appeared before disappearing. This will certainly be useful, very useful.

[sign language]: I am very grateful for your help.

Fumiko grinned with brightness. The Classic Order, no matter what, has seemed to have her back.

"Of course. It wouldn't be possible without your father, who funded the shield. It was not easy to make, being a shield that can take on those kinds of fires and poisons."

The Champion nodded. And so too, her father was always helping her. Funding the Classic Order was one of his priorities. But.. it also made him a target to the Desolation. Her father has protected her in the past long enough, now it was her turn.

"I wish you the best of luck."

Fumiko nodded once more, before leaving the room with a wave and a smile, which Cerys returned. Fumiko navigated her way out of the quarters, out the elevator and through the hallway, with multiple salutes from the soldiers coming her way. Down to the outskirts, then the exit of where she came from.

Perhaps she stands a better chance against Eiji now, but not by much. He's still much stronger than her, and she still needs more training and experience to take on someone as powerful as him.

She will endure devastation.

#stories of bravery (drabble) #fumiko arai | the light rose #cerys rose | crimson general #verse; champion of light

[itzcherrybonbon]

Apa khabar ceri. Nak tahu tak? Ceri adalah buat kegemaran saya. Jadi Ceri ialah orang kegemaran saya!

Rose! :DD

#cherry rambles #asks

[choicesbookclub]

Inspired by our Crimes of Passion Book Club playthrough I thought we could all share our detectives + royals!

Whether you have a fully formed profile or just a cute moodboard or some vague HCs, feel free to tag @choicesbookclub or message me a link at @lovealexhunt and I'll add it to our list!

You can also submit your character profiles to @choicesficwriterscreations's MC / OC page

Names Listed Alphabetically by Detective's First Names

🔎 Aisha Rose ~ @rookiemartin

🔎 Augusta Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @kat-tia801

🔎 Braeden Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne~ @txemrn

🔎 Callum Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne~ @twinkleallnight

🔎 Cameron Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @cariantha

🔎 Carolina Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne~ @jerzwriter

🔎 Casandra Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @ao719

🔎 Ceri Rose ~ @choices-ceri

🔎 Cheyanne Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @tessa-liam

🔎 Claire Rose ~ @lucy-268

🔎 Cordelia Rose ~ @openheartforeverinmyheart

🔎 Daria Rose ~ @fairymatchmaker

🔎 Emily Rose ~ @moominofthevalley

🔎 Evelyn Rose ~ @dr-colossal-pita

🔎 Gabriel Rose ~ @lilyoffandoms

🔎 Geneviève Rose-Lys ~ @casualoddities

🔎 Haelyn Rózsa ~ @a-cloud-for-dreams

🔎 Hirokazu Rose ~ @fairymatchmaker

🔎 Isabel Rosas ~ @jamespotterthefirst

🔎Jenna Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @peonyblossom

🔎 Jules Rose ~ @liaromancewriter

🔎 Lilah Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne~ @storyofmychoices / @lovealexhunt

🔎 Lyra Rose ~ @ladylamrian

🔎 Lorrie Rose ~ @gutsfics

🔎 Malone Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @quixoticdreamer16

🔎 Marianne Alba + 👑 Trystan Thorne~ @lawyerlies

🔎 Neera Roase ~ @noesapphic

🔎 Nora Rose ~ @inlocusmads

🔎 Sabrina Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @kyra75

🔎 Sofia Rose + 👑 Trystan Thorne ~ @trappedinfanfiction

🔎 Theo Rose-Collette ~ @choicesfrog

🔎 Xander Argento Rose ~ @farizrz

#crimes of passion #choices book club #choices book club cop #cop #cop mc #meet our detectives #meet our princes #trystan thorne #trystan thorne cop #trystan thorne x mc #playchoices #choices game #choices #meet our princesses

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part two

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of drinking, death, and grief

Word Count: ~6.4k 

A/N: I'm hesitant about this one, but I’m going to throw it out here anyway. feedback is more than welcome :) thank you to everyone who gave me the idea for this! the next two parts will be coming soon!

series masterlist

Rowan counted the whirls in the ceiling, the delicate and detailed decorations of their assigned suite in the palace. A window propped open, letting a dry summer breeze in. Aelin’s taste for luxury couldn’t compare to here. A few centuries of relative peace could accomplish that. She squealed in delight at the sunken bathing pool, filled with aromatic oils, candles lighting the edges, a window showing greenery beyond. Rose petals. There were gods-damned rose petals floating on top. 

Despite his best efforts, his mind drifted to you and his daughter, Ceri. He fought the ugly resentment at your secret. Your actions were justified, but If he hadn’t caught sight of you, he could’ve lived the rest of his immortal life with no idea he had a child out there. Rowan ruminated on the fear that he’d somehow failed both of you - although realistically he knew there was nothing he could’ve done. He debated how he’d make up for lost time, how to convince you to move closer, how to gain his daughter’s trust.  

“What’s on your mind?” Aelin asked, turning over to prop herself up on her forearm. 

“Ceri,” the words came easily, but he hesitated to say you were on his mind as well. Aelin hadn’t given him any indication she was jealous, or that this would pose a problem, but it was foreign territory for both of them. 

“They should both come to Terrasen,” Aelin murmured, catching his attention. Rowan’s head snapped, eyes widened. That’s … not what he expected her to say. Maybe that Ceri should come, at least for a few months a year, but certainly not his former … lover. His wife’s lips were curled into a smile, “I enjoy her company.” 

He raised his brows. Considering how she’d treated Remelle, “She’s nothing like her,” Aelin scoffed, reading the words in his eyes. 

It could be merely that Aelin enjoys her company - or that she wants to keep an eye on her. As usual, he wouldn’t know until Aelin decides to tell him. 

‘In another world, I could’ve built a life with her,’ the thoughts of his past echoed. It was another world now, a better world. Building a life with you didn’t mean romantic, but a life where he could co-parent his child, where he could keep both of you safe and happy. It might be a better world, but there were still threats. Still people who would take the two of you, if only to have leverage over him and Aelin. A fist clenched in his chest, pressure building, squeezing, suffocating him - if anything happened to the two of you -

“We’ll keep them safe,” Aelin shifted and ran her hand up and down his arm. 

-

‘We can figure it out tomorrow,’ Rowan had said. Tomorrow came in the form of a ghost from your past. 

“It wasn’t wise for them to come again,” the blonde-haired emissary explained. Now bloodsworn to the Queen of Terrasen. Aelin, she insisted you call her. 

You recognized Fenrys instantly. The two of you used to frequent enough of the same taverns and circles to know each other by name. The same recognition had flashed in his eyes, mouth turning up at one corner as he greeted you. 

You blinked, dragging yourself back into the present. “So they sent you as a messenger?”

He snorted, “something like that,” and paused, onyx eyes assessing you as you fought the urge to squirm in your seat. 

“And the message?” 

“They want you to consider … relocating, for your safety. For both of you.” 

His eyes flicked to the glass door, where your daughter played in the small garden beyond. There had already been murmurs, more inquiries about your daughter, more curious gazes. 

“I’ve considered moving to Eyllwe.” You already spoke the language, and the climate was similar. It would be an easy adjustment, and closer to Terrasen. 

Fenrys’s mouth parted, you’d surprised him with your answer, and it took him a few moments to reply. “We were hoping you’d consider moving to Terrasen.” 

Exactly what you suspected. But, you had your daughter, Ceri’s, best interests in mind. Would she want to grow up under constant surveillance, for her every move to be watched, the pressure of her relation to the crown - even if she’s not in line for it. Possible slurs and taunts about the circumstances of her birth. 

“Anywhere you go, she’ll eventually be recognized,” Fenrys said, as if he was reading your mind. Your knuckles whitened as you clenched your fists. He eyed you warily, sensing the protective instincts flaring inside you. “We’re not saying you need to move to Orynth, there’s other places if you want some distance from …”  

Fenrys didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“Right,” you cleared your throat and stood. “I need to think about it.” 

“Of course,” he recognized your not-so-subtle dismissal, and stood with you, depositing a roll of paper on the table. Your eyes narrowed, flicking between the scroll and him. Fenrys shot a wink at you, motioning for you to lead the way to the exit. 

You paused at the gate, fingers curling around the latch, turning over your shoulder to look at him. “It’s good to see you.” 

Fenrys understood the unspoken word, free. 

“And you,” his throat bobbed, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

The gate swung open, and he disappeared, footsteps silent as he rounded the corner. You took up a position on the bench, watching as the sun lowered, leaving a beautiful array of gold and pink hues, absorbing remaining warmth. Would Terrasen have sunsets like this? Gods, it sounded like you already made up your mind. 

“Who was that?” Ceri chirped. She’d chosen to stay out of his way after the brief introduction, sending shy glances from the garden, and retreating when he left. You wouldn’t push her to spend time around someone if she didn’t want to. 

“An old … acquaintance,” 

“What’s an acquaintance?” She asked, the word foreign on her tongue as she drew out the syllables. 

“Someone you know, but not a close friend.” 

She nodded solemnly, as if this was crucial knowledge, and you couldn’t fight your smile. 

“The Queen said we’re her friends now,” she bounced on her toes. We’re. Not just her, but the two of you. A small warmth bloomed in your chest, sobering as you realized the extra dangers of a friendship like that. 

“That’s lovely.” She paused, remembering something, and sprinted inside without another word. 

Ceri returned, holding a paper out for your viewing. “I want to give this to her.” 

A drawing. Gray jagged mountains, dense forests, little rivers and valleys. The landscape had surprising detail, and nothing like Antica or anywhere you remembered showing her.  

“I saw that in my dreams,” her small finger traced the outline of the mountain. Terrasen, the place popped into your mind, based on descriptions you read in books. Dreams, she was dreaming of a place she’d never seen. 

“We’ll find a way to get this to her,” the words came out gently. At a young age, you lost faith in any kind of divine intervention, but this … this was too coincidental to ignore. A chill ran down your spine, only partially from the breeze. The sun had fallen, a gray sort of dusk replacing the orange hues from earlier, and you made your way back inside.

Your hands shook as you cut the seal on the scroll Fenrys left, unfurling the message. A list of different places in Terrasen; Perranth, Caraverre and Allsbrook. Promises the two of you would be taken care of, that you’d be able to find work, that there would be other children and day schools for Ceri. 

But, this wasn’t a demand or order, it was a plea and offer. Even extended to your friend, Reya and her daughter Ani - Ceri’s best friend, if they showed desire to relocate as well. Ani would follow Ceri if her mother let her, and Reya expressed desire to visit Terrasen before. Reya’s family that had taken you in over the years. The day you arrived in Antica, just hours after you’d brushed the dust from the gate, an equally pregnant Reya sought you out, informing you your mothers had been friends - and because of that you were obligated to as well. 

The Queen and King were practically bending over backwards to try and get you to come … or, they were genuine and wanted both you and your daughter somewhere safe. 

Silver hair swished back and forth as she sat at her desk again, pencil already in hand - sketching out another drawing. If this was going to happen, you needed her to agree first. After you spoke to Fenrys tomorrow you’d bring it up, and the two of you would make the decision together. 

-

“I don’t want to go,” her small foot stomped on the ground. 

“Ani would come with us.” You weren’t surprised your friend agreed easily. “Your father lives there as well.” 

Ceri put the pieces together quickly, asking for confirmation the day after they showed up on your doorstep. 

“You said my father was a Fae warrior and royal,” she planted her hands on her hips. You nodded, pulling two chairs out, motioning for her to sit. Before now, she’d accepted your explanation - not asking for a name. The day would come eventually, but you thought you had a few more years. “He’s the King of Terrasen.” 

“Yes,” you said slowly, letting her carry out her train of thought. 

“Does that make me a princess?” You frowned as she spit out the word. 

“Do you want to be a princess?” Her head shook rapidly and she scrunched her nose. Your mouth indented at one side. “Then you don’t need to be a princess.” 

“If we move there, I have to be a princess, that’s what Ani said.” Her green eyes filled with tears, and you gently grasped each of her shoulders, crouching to be at eye level. 

“Ani was wrong,” and you need to tell her mother to keep her daughter’s mouth shut, “you don’t have to be anything you don’t want to.” You brushed away one of the stray tears, opening your arms up to let her launch into you, running your fingers through the silver strands. 

“But,” you murmured as she dug her face into your shoulder. “It’s not safe here for us, anymore.” 

The words sliced into your chest - breaking away a small piece of you. The sanctuary you sought years ago, no longer a safe place to be. Just this afternoon you’d spotted two lurkers across the street, watching your home and the surrounding street. You tugged Ceri beyond the gate, slamming the wards in place, re-examining the marks etched in stone for any weaknesses or fading. 

“It’s all his fault.” 

No, no, no. This is not how you wanted the conversation to go. “It’s not,” you whispered, pulling her back. Her face was red, cheeks flushed in anger. “It’s not your father’s fault there’s bad people out there.” 

“Why didn’t he stay with us?” 

The animosity in her tone made your stomach turn. This conversation was coming, you knew it, and possibly long overdue. 

“Your father used to serve a bad Queen, Maeve,” you started the hair on your arms standing up, “and I left, when I knew I was pregnant with you. To keep both of us safe. I didn’t tell him,” Her mouth parted to ask ‘why,’ but you held up a hand. “If he knew of us, he could have been forced to tell the Queen, who could do bad things to us or make him do bad things.” Her brows furrowed, and you wondered if you were butchering this explanation, but you were already started - you might as well keep going. 

“I know he would have done his best to protect us.” You did know that, you knew the sense of loyalty Fae held to their children, the fierce protectiveness - you had it yourself. “But he was … bound to do her bidding, and if she ordered him to hurt us, he would have no choice. She may have been able to use you through him, and that’s a risk I'll never take.”

“Maeve is dead,” she stated, more to herself, but you nodded anyway. All of the children knew the story of the battle of Terrasen, of the war fought in Erilea. Reya was a widow, her husband died in Orynth, along with her brother. “Good,” her little fists clenched, shoulders rolling back. Maybe that protective sense extended to her Rowan, whether she knew it or not. 

You cautioned her not to bring Maeve up to either of them, to any of the people from Terrasen, and that they would tell her if they wished to. There wasn’t a need to dig up fresh wounds. 

-

One week left of the Royal visit. One week to try and figure this hellstorm out. Ceri’s reluctance transferred into your own. Perhaps Eyllwe would be a better option. 

Fenrys came by in the early hours, letting you know Rowan, Aelin, and he would stop by later that night, after the sun had set. You promised a late dinner, and now grew to regret that promise considering how much you were panicking over the food. Keep it simple, your mothers words echoed in your mind as you put together the few heritage dishes she taught you, squinting to read the scribbled recipes, worn down by time and travel. 

You felt more than heard their approach, the old magic swirling in the air, and the small ring of the ward’s alarms. Ceri followed you through the garden, less shy than last time, but still reserved as she half hid behind you. 

The wards were up. Directly after the royals visited your home, you activated them. Only those you wanted to see the house or its inhabitants could. 

Your eyes scanned the street beyond them, spotting two figures watching your house intently. They couldn’t see anything beyond the normal facade, the garden exactly as it’s supposed to be. Magic hid your figures, and the ones right before the gate. Did they catch their approach?

Still, you let out a low breath, focusing on keeping your panic down as you willed the magic to bend enough to let them inside. 

“Those are clever wards,” the Queen commented, fingers tracing over the wyrdmarks carved in the pale stone walls. 

“Thank you,” you forced a smile on your face as your hand shook lightly, gaze still on the figures across the street. This was the first time they stayed past sunset. 

“Have they been bothering you?” 

Aelin’s voice was low, but you recognized the edge of danger as she followed your gaze. 

“They can’t see us.” A non answer, but before she could question further, you waved them inside. Rowan pinned you with a look that said he had more questions. Later, you mouthed. When Ceri was sound asleep. 

-

Rowan watched you and Aelin go back and forth, discussing books - he’d forgotten how much you loved to read, debating who the better romance author was, the best and worst tropes. Things like; third act break-up, miscommunication, enemies to lovers, love triangles. 

His attention switched back to his daughter, who had alternated questioning both him and Fenrys about everything, and especially magic. Each question she asked, he answered the best he could, and asked her more in turn. Rowan wanted to know it all, wanted to catch up on the seven missed years, and to catch up with you as well, to learn how your life had been, what raising Ceri was like, and how to be a worthy father. 

“How did you learn Wydrmarks?” Aelin asked. 

“My mother taught me,” you smiled at her, like Aelin was dredging up a pleasant memory. “I still have the books. She lived in Eyllwe for a while.” 

Aelin asked her a question, in what he assumed was Eyllwe, and you joined in. Then, Ceri did, already speaking another language this young. That makes three he knows of; Eyllwe, Halha, and the common tongue. She inherited her mother’s intelligence, that’s for certain. 

The three of you had a language you could speak in - one he couldn’t understand. Something told him that could lead to trouble. Fenrys caught his gaze over the table, smirking. 

After dinner, he was informed his daughter had a gift for him and Aelin. Two drawings - of Terrasen. She was talented, especially for her age. The detail is what surprised him - vivid, as if she’d seen it with her own eyes.  

“They’re from my dreams,” she piped up - and answered his question. 

Behind her, your eyebrows drew together, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. Catching his gaze, you offered a half smile. An attempt at nonchalance, one he saw right through. You may have changed, but you still wore your emotions for everyone to see. 

“They’re wonderful, thank you.” Aelin reached out, squeezing her shoulder. 

He looked back down at his drawing, and spotted four stick-like figures, hastily added in a corner, the wax of the pencil fresher. She’d added them recently, maybe even an hour ago. The heights and hair colors made them easily recognizable, and filled him with some hope. 

“It’s beautiful,” he finally looked up at her - into eyes identical to his own, but unburdened and radiant with joy. Gods, he’d do anything to protect that. 

-

Ceri yawned, attempting to muffle it with her fist, blinking rapidly to try and keep her eyes open.   

“Time for bed,” you announced, and she turned to you - a small pout forming, but yawned again and her shoulders drooped in resignation. 

“Goodnight,” she said to the three guests, and dragged her feet down the hall. Five minutes later, you tucked the thin sheet up to her shoulders, making sure the window was propped to let in the breeze, pressed a small kiss to her forehead, and snicked the door closed - her breaths already evening out into a deep sleep. 

They remained right where she left them - at the table. Rowan looked up from where he’d been studying his gift. “She’s talented.” 

You nodded absentmindedly, sliding back into your seat next to Aelin. It had surprised and intimidated you when she claimed the seat by your left. But, she’d put you at ease quickly, easily guiding the conversation between your mutual interests. 

“I never showed her pictures,” you cleared your throat. “But .. I'm assuming they’re of Terrasen.” Three nods. 

“Have you made a decision about moving?” Fenrys braced his forearms on the table, getting right to the point. The others stiffened, but brimmed with anticipation. 

“We’ve discussed it,” you tapped your fingers against the table. Honesty is the best way to go. “My friend said she’d go, but Ceri is … reluctant.” 

“Have you tried to convince her?” Rowan replied harshly, a shadow of guilt following; as much of an apology as you’d get for his tone and implication. Not that you were owed one, you’d probably feel the same in his situation.  

“This is her home, this is where her friends are, it’s not surprising she’s reluctant to leave,” you ran a hand over your face. And … you knew Antica was safer, but generational prejudices took time to undo. Terrasen used to be a safe place for Fae, interrupted by a decade of terror. It would take time to rebuild that legacy.

“She’s … open to the idea of a trial. To go for a few months, and see if she likes it. I promised her I won’t force her to stay if she doesn’t.” Years of building an iron will kept you from cowering under their stares. That was the only compromise you managed to come to. The next barb shot at Rowan before your filter caught up with you, “she inherited your stubbornness.” 

That little comment lightened the mood, because Fenrys laughed, Aelin snorted, and you could’ve sworn a small smile graced over Rowan’s face. In all honesty, your daughter was a mini-Rowan in female form. 

“I pity you,” Fenrys murmured, ignoring Rowan’s glare.

“I heard that,” a small voice chirped from the corner, and you groaned. 

“She’s also quite skilled at faking her sleep, and eavesdropping” turning over your shoulder, you fixed her with a glare, and she looked completely unapologetic. You noted the natural breeze flowing through the window, strong enough it would’ve blown away her scent - and she managed to get close enough for her immortal hearing to let her eavesdrop without detection. “Did you hear everything?” 

“Only about the trial visit.” You couldn’t scent a lie, and motioned for her to come to the table. If you’re speaking of her, she may as well be invited, and now that she knows - you doubt she’ll go back to sleep anytime soon. She slid into the chair next to her father, and you gave him a look to say; your turn. You did your part, he can do his best to convince her now.

Aelin and Rowan patiently answered all of her questions; is it safe? - yes, is it cold? - yes, are there ghost leopards? - yes, are they friendly? - Fenrys choked, and Aelin gave a firm no. 

“Then,” Ceri cleared her throat. “Why should I visit? You’re not making it sound very nice.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you knew diplomacy was not in her future. Aelin spoke of the snow,  sledding, the magic of the Oakwald forest, giant wolves, the Staghorns, learning to control her magic - that caught her attention, and by the gleam in her eyes; you knew you’d be moving to Terrasen, at least temporarily. There’s a reason Aelin makes a great Queen. 

“You and your mother can choose where you’d like to live, if you come.” Aelin finished. Rowan’s jaw clenched, barely perceptible. 

“What will she do with her work?” 

“That’s for me to worry about,” you reached over the table, placing your hand over her own. She looked at you skeptically, but nodded. You’ve saved enough money over the years to keep the two of you comfortable for a decade or two - with careful spending. 

“Your mother is talented enough to find work wherever she goes,” Rowan added, sending you a knowing look.

She tapped a finger against her cheek, looking between the four of you. “I agree,” she announced, and you watched Rowan - watched how his face lit up. Saw Aelin watching you, watch him. You tore your gaze away. There’s nothing left between the two of you, and you don’t want to give her any reason to think there might be. Even if you’d found each other at the right time, she was the perfect match for him. It only took hours in their presence to realize that. It filled you with a different sort of happiness; after everything he went through - he deserved the best love could offer. 

The clock behind you chimed, you glanced over your shoulder - only ten, but you saw Ceri yawning, again, her eyes starting to droop with sleep. 

“Are you ready to sleep now?” you asked her quietly. Maybe if you gave her the decision - she might stay in bed this time. She nodded, rounding the table and grabbing your hand. You stood with her, but she paused to look at Rowan. 

“Will you tell me a story?” Rowan blinked once, but he agreed and stood, trailing after the two of you towards the bedroom. You sent a silent prayer to the Gods he’d given one that wouldn’t give her nightmares. 

Against every instinct, you let them have some privacy after Ceri gave you a small nod. It was laughable that your daughter was giving you reassurance. Not quite ready to face Aelin and Fenrys alone, you leant stopped at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall. Rowan’s hushed tones floated through the open space, low enough you couldn’t quite understand the words. 

“Y/n,” Aelin’s voice came through. Turning your head, you found her standing a few paces away. Either you were deep in thought, or she’s especially silent on her feet. Maybe both. Aelin tilted her head, indicating for you to follow. Fighting the scowl threatening to emerge - at the idea of obeying someone's orders in your own home, you pushed from the wall, leading her towards the sitting room. Dishes could come later, for now you let your body melt into your favorite armchair, a perfect view of the street beyond. 

“Have there been many … lurkers?”

It would be so easy to lie, but she’d see right through those, and if you were going to co-parent … that’s not the foot you wanted to get off on. “Yes, a few each day.” 

“Have they approached you?” Fenrys cut in quickly. 

“They can’t see us, with the wards.” Aelin murmured something that sounded like; that’s what I thought, but you were distracted - glancing out the large window to see if they were still there. Sure enough, two shadowy figures remained, lurking across the street. 

“How do your wards work?” Fenrys switched the line of questioning. 

You studied him for a moment before answering. “I come from a family of magic wielders, and the lingering magic around the house built up over the decades. I used the Wyrdmarks to … direct it. It acts on my intentions, for lack of a better word. I’m not actively using my magic to surround the area” He looked at you, like he was prompting for more detail, “In all honesty, it would take me hours to explain each detail.” 

“I’d love to hear it some day,” Aelin added, face light and smiling, but there was still a tension in her shoulders. 

“Some day,” you promised. Maybe in the near future, maybe far away. If you ended up settling somewhere in Terrasen, you’d find a home already exposed to magic - maybe previously owned by magic wielders. 

“It’s impressive,” you heard Rowan rounding the corner. Aelin had chosen the spot on the couch next to Fenrys, leaving Rowan to sit in the other armchair. Not quite as comfortable as yours. “What are you going to do about them?” He jerked his chin towards the window. 

“There’s not much I can do,” you admitted. “They haven’t proven to be a threat, haven’t approached us.” 

“Has anyone … approached you?” He leaned back, and you saw right through his attempt to look nonchalant. 

“I’ve had a few questions about her, as expected.” 

“What did you say?” Rowan pushed. 

-

“What I’ve always said, that I don’t quite remember.” He let out a small grunt at her answer. It was the right thing to say, he knew that, even though it unsettled him. He wanted the world to know the two of you - you didn’t deserve to be some kind of dirty secret, he was proud to have Ceri as a child. And you as a … friend. 

“You do have an army of cousins,” Fenrys commented wryly, shooting a knowing glance towards, and you rolled your eyes. It’s common knowledge there’s plenty of Whitethorns in Doranelle. Aelin was watching the interaction with keen interest. 

Do they know each other? She asked, meeting his eyes. 

Yes. 

“How do you know each other?” Aelin questioned. 

“We ran in the same circles.” 

“Drinking circles,” Fenrys clarified. “You used to drink most males under the table.” 

“That’s a thing of the past.” 

“You never get a night out?” He recognized the glint in the male's eyes - if you ended up in Orynth, Fenrys might drag you out for a night to celebrate. It would be good for you; ‘you don’t know what’s good for her anymore,’ the voice in his head countered. 

“Night’s in mostly. I try to keep a low profile.” Another way you changed. The old you never turned down a chance to go out - to feed off the energy of a crowd.

It was crowded, one of the more famous bards in town for the night. Crowded enough the two of you could slip in against the wall, hood disguising your features, Rowan’s magic redirecting your scents. Nights out together were rare. Rowan watched as the male sang, one of those songs where the crowd would join in - each line growing dirtier as it went on. You knew every one, and countered his incredulous looks with an unabashed smile, not one bit of shame. 

He pushed himself back to the present. The low profile you built was gone now. You both knew it. Before, it’s unlikely anyone but the royals or courtiers recognized your resemblance. But with their visit - it was as clear as day.

“The truth will come out, eventually.” For once, he mentally thanked Fenrys for opening his mouth.

“I know,” there was quiet resignation in your voice. Mourning, almost. Mourning a life under the radar, a life without him. Rowan pushed the thoughts out of his mind, not a life without him - a life of peace. Whether you liked it or not, now that he knew he had a daughter, he had an obligation to the two of you. Beyond obligation, he had a desire to be part of her life, and that meant being part of yours as well. 

“Will your friend join you in Terrasen?” Fenrys questioned. 

“Reya … she’s said yes. She -” you choked on your words, on the memory, clearing your throat, “her husband and brother served with the Darghan and died in Orynth,” you were surprised your voice remained steady, “she’s wished to visit for some time now.” 

You tried to hide it, but he still saw the one small tear welling in the corner of your left eye. Just one. 

Rowan read between the lines. He recalled some of his conversations with Sartaq after the battle. He told, in hushed tones, of Arundin, the mountain where suldes, the spears all Darghan warriors carried, were planted after their deaths. He said their souls would roam with the wind, and maybe Reya was searching for theirs, searching for closure.  

-

It was like someone threw a haze over the room with your words, the shift poignant, dark silence radiating through the room. They were good men, and Reya wanted to find closure. You were there through it all, through the news of their deaths, felt the loss and suffering along with their family. 

A shadow crossed through Aelin’s eyes, a hint of guilt flooding over her features, and you felt the need to do something about it.

“Ani, her daughter,” you continued, “is very proud of her father, and so is Reya and her family. Before he left, he told us that he was proud to fight for a better world.” Aelin seemed to lighten at that, so you continued. “You’re probably tired of hearing things like this, but we’re all proud our country fought for you.” 

You’re not certain why, but you wanted her to know that - to assure her, in case she hadn’t heard it before, or heard it often enough. Based on the grateful look Rowan shot your way, maybe she hadn’t. 

“Were you here, during the war?” Fenrys asked. 

“I was, my mediocre healing skills came in handy. There was still a city to run,” your mouth curved at the corners. The Torre had been all but emptied, and there was still a city to run. Some of the tension left the room, thank the Gods. 

The moon had shifted, full and bright, and some of the light flowed through the room. Full moons, time for transformation. Fitting, considering you were about to uproot everything you’ve known for the last seven and a half years. 

-

“How soon can you be ready to leave?” Rowan asked. Aelin cut a sharp look at him, but he ignored her. Maybe he could’ve phrased that better. 

A soft laugh left you. Different, even your laugh was different, filled with a weariness that wasn’t there before.  “We’ve always been ready to go at a moment's notice, but I’d say two weeks or so to wrap everything up.” 

One week, they’d be leaving in a week. There’s no reasonable way for them to extend their visit, not without turning more heads. One week he’d be away from Ceri and you, a whole seven days where he couldn’t be there to protect the two of you. A week left in a city - with a target firmly on your backs.

“We’ll make travel arrangements for you,” Aelin’s voice cut off his thinking. 

“There’s no need-” 

“I’ll already be leaving at the same time, it’s no bother.” Fenrys interrupted you. Right, he’d be in the city an extra week to wrap up some negotiations. Rowan felt slightly better now. He’ll feel even better once he threatens Fenrys within an inch of his life. You narrowed your eyes at Fenrys, for the interruption, and he gave an unapologetic shrug and changed the subject “Has Ceri ever been on the water?” 

“Not the open sea,” you grimaced. “I’ll make sure we have something for nausea.” 

What are you thinking? Aelin caught his eye as you and Fenrys went back and forth, debating the best remedies for nausea. At least he could avoid your light-hearted bickering. There’s potential for the two of you to be insufferable together.  

Once we leave, people will be more motivated to act. That tightness gripped his chest again. 

Aelin frowned; I know. I’ll speak to Nesryn. 

Y/n won’t like that, he cautioned, even though he didn’t particularly care what you thought of it. When it came to your safety, he’d deal with your irritation. 

Nesryn can keep a secret. The woman had been a rebel. 

Are you going to tell y/n?

Too nervous? Aelin teased him, and his nostrils flared. Fine, he could tell you.

He caught your eye, and waited til your attention directed to him. “Once we leave, there will be a bigger target on your back.” 

“I’m aware,” you crossed your arms, “I do have a functioning mind.” His brows flicked, at least you still had some thorns. 

“It would be wise to have someone aware of who Ceri is,” Rowan went on as you looked ready to interrupt - to tell him off, no doubt, “aware of who she is to me, and that the two of you would be a valuable hostage.” 

He watched as you visibly stiffened, eyes hardening. Rowan knows you were aware of the dangers, but hearing them aloud would put another sense of urgency. 

“We have a friend, who can have someone look out for you - until it’s time for you to leave.” He could read the words on your tongue; I can protect us. “I know you’re capable,” he assured you, “but it’s not a weakness to have an extra set of eyes on you and Ceri.” 

Rowan watched as you came to the conclusion - watched how you’d swallow any kind of pride or ego for your daughter, for his daughter. He would’ve asked Nesryn to keep an eye out regardless, but having you aware and in agreement made it easier. 

“Who’s your friend?” 

“Nesryn Faliq.” The future Empress. 

The whites of your eyes shone, even as you said, “I shouldn’t be surprised.” Your fist came up to your mouth, stifling a yawn. The clock chimed again. Eleven already. 

“We’d best get back,” Fenrys pushed himself up from the couch, Aelin followed quickly, giving the two of you a moment of privacy. 

“It means .. everything, to me, that you and Ceri are willing to come to Terrasen.” 

“It’s a trial, remember?” You teased him. One year, that’s what Ceri, and by extension you, had agreed to. They had one year to convince Ceri to stay permanently.

“I know,” he nudged you with his elbow, drawing out another one of your laughs. Lighter this time. He felt himself falling back into the old companionship, the easy way the two of you had with each other. You’d been something between a friend and a lover. The closest thing he could come to friendship, while serving under Maeve. Temporary, but here you were seven years later - now to be a permanent fixture in his life.

Aelin and Fenrys waited for them at the gates, the two lurkers were gone now. Good, he might’ve done something impulsive otherwise, something that may have damaged relations between both countries. Fae may have few laws against murder, but that’s not always the case for the rest of the world. 

“Will you be back before the end of the week?” 

“I don’t think so,” Aelin said. “It’ll draw more suspicion if we’re seen coming here.” 

If Rowan could, he’d spend the rest of his time here getting to know the two of you. 

“I’ll be back,” Fenrys shot a wink at you. “You’ll see plenty of these two in the next year.” 

He found himself studying you, again. You didn’t look disappointed they wouldn’t be back, but not relieved either. He didn’t know how to feel about it, how he wanted you to react. It would be too easy for this to be simple. 

-

Aelin and Rowan sought out Nesryn and Sartaq early the next morning. 

“We’ve just learned Rowan has a daughter in the city.” Aelin got right to the point. “She and her mother are moving to Terrassen in two weeks.” 

Midnight eyes shot to Sartaq, who’s mouth tightened. They suspected something, but hadn’t known for certain. 

“There was suspicion of someone related to the Whitethorns living here,” he said, “but we never confirmed it.  Her mother is known to us, of course.” 

Of course. Maybe you weren’t quite as low profile as you thought. 

“Her work.” Nesryn clarified. “Although she’s done a good job flying under the radar.” 

“Not good enough for my spies,” Sartaq added. 

“After our visit, it’ll be too obvious. It puts a target on their backs.” 

“We’ll keep our eyes on her. Discrete ones.” Nesryn said, before she could specify her ask for help. 

“Thank you,” Rowan said, and she could hear the relief in his tone, sensing the small tension leaving him through the bond. 

“You’d do the same for us,” Sartaq answered. They were allies, and the Khaganate had already done so much for them, throughout the whole war. Without a doubt, she knew she’d do the same. Rowan went on to describe what he’d seen, detailed descriptions of the figures across the street, and a brief description of the wards she has up - of how they hide you. Nesryn gave a nod of appreciation, and Sartaq still didn’t seem surprised. Aelin remembered Chaol telling her he had an extensive network of spies.

The conversation left them in a much better mood, easing some of their nerves. Aelin barely knew Ceri, or you, but already felt fiercely protective. Maybe even as much as Rowan did. She’d never replace you, she didn’t want to, but she’d be a part of your lives no matter how the cards fell. 

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