Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Leliana/Josephine Montilyet
Characters: Josephine Montilyet, Leliana (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, 5 Times, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Assassination Attempt(s), Kidnapping, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Leliana knew she’d upset her. She wanted to apologise, but she couldn’t, and she’d already tried to explain. She couldn’t let people see how close Josephine was to the Nightingale.
5 times Leliana loved Josephine, and 1 time she let Josephine love her too
For the BLB, maybe damaged vocal chords and Shadowzel? You can't cast healing spells without the verbal component, Shadowheart!
(Lae'zel/Shadowheart) Damaged Vocal Cords
Bad Things Happen Bingo for Baldur's Gate 3
Thank you for the prompt, Anon!
The spectre’s necrotic blast crashed into Shadowheart’s raised shield and dispersed into mist. Shadowheart shivered and rubbed her numb fingers together and stretched her arms and neck. She readjusted her equipment, gripping her staff and shield, before stepping up to the wall and moving back into position.
The Absolute’s forces had surrounded Lae’zel and Karlach in the High Hall Courtyard. Shadowheart cursed their recklessness. They’d charged ahead because they knew she was watching them. Infuriated, Shadowheart smiled; they trusted her to keep them safe.
Magic surged through her fingers and she opened her to command it as hands closed around her throat.
Requested by @brazenedminstrel. Thank you for the prompt!
The labyrinth of passages beneath the lower city were flooded with putrid sewage water, grease, and blood and Shadowheart had to use her arcane staff to help her navigate the slimy cobblestones. It was hard going, and Shadowheart realised Wyll had been right to send them ahead to scout the path and get reinforcements from the Elfsong Tavern; the prisoners wouldn’t have made it far.
Sewage flowed sluggishly past them on their left, large bubbles bursting on the surface, and Shadowheart kept her distance, pressing herself up against the wall and wrapping her arms around herself to try and keep warm.
The rescue mission had been a disaster. Gortash had flooded the Iron Throne and they’d all nearly drowned trying to rescue the Gondians and Duke Ravenguard. Shadowheart’s damp hair and clothes clung uncomfortably to her body and made her skin crawl, and she felt tired, miserable, and horribly nauseous. The thought of falling into the filth that currently coated her sodden boots made her stomach lurch dangerously. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she gagged.
Oooh BTHB is the best! Would love to see Buried in Rubble with Shadowzel, bonus points if the one trapped is Shadowheart~
Buried in Rubble (Lae'zel/Shadowheart)
Lae’zel wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and raised her arms above her head, stretching her aching muscles. She’d worked up a healthy sweat building some fences in the garden and walked around the new herb and vegetable patch, checking the posts, with immense satisfaction.
She’d done well. Shadowheart would be very pleased. The fence was tall and sturdy and would easily keep Shadowheart’s animals out - except Peck, but Lae’zel wasn’t worried about the owlbear. She’d trained him well.
It was early evening when Lae’zel finished moving the spare wood into the basement and packed her tools away, and reasoned she had just enough time to clean up before she was expected at the Last Light Inn. Shadowheart had made her promise to attend the celebrations and, without prompting or permission, had already picked out what Lae’zel was going to wear.
All Lae’zel had to do was bathe, get dressed, and meet Shadowheart by the Inn.
The explosion happened before she’d even reached the stream behind their cottage. It took her less than five minutes to ride to Reithwin Town.
Continue reading on AO3.
Read this post to view my BTHB card and to learn how to submit a request
You can submit a request by clicking on my ‘ask me anything’ link. Please include a prompt and the characters/ship you want me to write about. You can make an anonymous request. Here is a link to my AO3 if you want to check out my writing.
Can you help me get 5 in a row? Thank you for the prompt @badthingshappenbingo
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Karlach/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Karlach (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Karlach (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s)
Characters: Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate)
Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One Shot Collection
Series: Part 4 of Highway to Hell
Summary:
Karlach shook her head. ‘No way. If you’re going to Avernus then I’m coming with you.’ She put her fist against her chest. ‘That fucking hellhole took ten years of my life. I’ll be damned if I let it take you too.’
Act 3. An additional scene between Karlach/Tav the night before going to the House of Hope.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Karlach/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Karlach (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Karlach (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s)
Characters: Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate)
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One Shot Collection
Series: Part 3 of Highway to Hell
Summary:
It was eerily quiet; the tavern had closed its doors for the night and its drunken patrons had already stumbled home. Karlach closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sound of Wren’s steady breathing, but her engine only seemed to run louder.
She’d finally made it home. She had a bed to sleep in, a room to herself, and a woman she loved to share it all with. It should have been the best night’s sleep she’d ever had, but it wasn’t. Karlach couldn’t sleep, because she’d tried to kill Gortash today, and Wren had stopped her. She wouldn’t let it happen again.
Act 3. A follow-up to Karlach's & Tav's initial meeting with Gortash in Wyrm's Rock.
Myrkul’s dark pink netherstone was hanging from a thick leather cord tied to her belt; Karlach’s throat tightened. Was this why she’d been sold to a devil? Had Gortash sold her heart for a fucking stone?
Wren squeezed her shoulder gently, making her jump. ‘I don’t know how this plot fits together yet, but we will stop him,’ she said, and Karlach desperately wanted to believe her. But she wouldn’t underestimate Gortash again.
Act 2. An extended cut of Karlach's reaction to seeing Gortash at Moonrise.
A series of short stories based on Bamf-Jaskier's one-word Witcher themed Femslash February prompts.
Chapters: 2/28
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional Tags: Femslash February 2022, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It, Romance
It’s early afternoon, and Toussaint’s midsummer sun has driven all but the foolhardiest of men inside, the view beyond the villa distorted by rippling waves, the vineyards and orchards abandoned till morning. Fierce sunshine streams in through the north and east-facing bank of windows, and the light catches the twitching of muscles in Tissaia’s bare legs as she shifts, the edge of her thin green robe slipping further up her thighs. She is sitting at one end of a chaise lounge made from brilliant blue velvet and dark, polished oak, her back supported by a cushioned armrest, her legs slightly bent, pale skin almost iridescent.
A small, leather-bound book rests against her lower abdomen, and Tissaia turns the page carefully. It is an anthology of Toussaint poetry, beautifully illustrated by the elusive artist Bernard Jaubert, a pseudonym rumoured to belong to Agathe Gachet, a Lady of the Royal Bedchamber. It had been a gift from her hostess, and Tissaia had accepted the peace offering without argument. Although, she had insisted on reviewing the results of the already completed experiment, unwilling to have her name associated with it otherwise. If the joint research project was to be her cover story, the reason for her four-week sabbatical, then there could be no errors. After making a few minor adjustments, Tissaia had signed the paper, satisfied that none would doubt her hand in it, and the hostess had promptly whisked her away from the study and thrust a glass of wine upon her. Her true motive - to seize Tissaia’s undivided attention – at least that’s what she’d claimed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tissaia watches her hostess intently, pausing only to glance back at her book as she turns another page. The woman in question is sitting at the other end of the chaise lounge, the generous neckline of her sheer black robe pulled low by the heavy grimoire nestled in her lap. Her face is partly obscured by the dark waves that have slipped past her shoulders, hair reaching down to her breasts, but her eyes can still be seen, and their movement has not gone unnoticed, her gaze not gone unfelt.
Tissaia looks up from her book with a frown, and the hostess quickly catches her eye.
‘Don’t give me that look,’ Yennefer says. She strokes a light line down Tissaia’s calf with the back of her fingers. ‘I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve it.’
‘You’ll forgive me if I find it hard to relax when you are staring at me quite so persistently,’ Tissaia says. ‘I had half expected you to start drooling.’
Yennefer’s hand stills. ‘I was not staring. I-‘
‘You’ve spent near an hour on the same page, I notice. Though it was your idea we read until the heat recedes.’ Tissaia shifts and sits up a little straighter, her legs moving just out of Yennefer’s reach. ‘What mischief are you up to?’ she asks.
Yennefer huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, the lace of her bra still visible beneath her robe. ‘Must you always be suspicious?’ she asks.
‘It seems only fitting,’ Tissaia says, ‘when you insist on conducting yourself with such secrecy.’
‘I have my reasons.’
‘That, my dear, is what concerns me.’
Yennefer shakes her head and stands up, leaving her grimoire on the chaise lounge. She picks up their empty goblets and saunters over to a small, rectangular cabinet with frosted glass panes covered in a delicate black script. The enchantment is of Yennefer’s creation, designed to keep the contents inside wonderfully cool. She had been eager to show it to Tissaia, some part of her, after all this time, still yearning for her approval. Would it always be this way?
Tissaia turns away and focuses on her book, trying to find her place. She hears the cabinet door click shut, and Yennefer moves to stand beside her. Tissaia holds out her hand, ready to accept the offered drink, but Yennefer ignores her and sits down instead, placing Tissaia’s wine on the side table nearby. She is much closer than before, her right side touching Tissaia’s waist, a light sheen of sweat visible on her bare skin.
‘Then I suppose I shall have no peace until I confess,’ Yennefer says. She looks at Tissaia over the rim of her goblet while she drinks, then she sets it down. ‘I hope you’re pleased with yourself. You’ve quite ruined the surprise.’
‘Don’t blame me for your lack of subtlety,’ Tissaia says without looking up from her book. She’s finding it hard to concentrate.
‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ Yennefer says. ‘We would not have found our way here if I weren’t so bold. Besides-’ She leans forward until her breasts are pressed lightly against Tissaia’s and grabs the other woman’s chin with her fingers, forcing her head up, ‘-you love that about me, don’t you?’
Yennefer’s breath is hot against her skin, lips grazing the shell of her ear, the slightest movement of her body felt in turn by Tissaia. Their closeness is almost too much to bear, and she takes a steadying breath as Yennefer lets go of her chin and slowly takes the book of poetry from her, prising it from loose fingers. It is placed on the side table before Tissaia can even think to mutter a word of protest.
‘I was-‘
Yennefer surges forward and kisses her into silence, one hand cupping her face to keep her near, the other hand braced against the chaise lounge near Tissaia’s hip, arm flung loosely across her chest, trapping her against the armrest. The front of Yennefer’s robe has come undone, and Tissaia slips her hands under the thin fabric, gripping Yennefer’s back firmly. Suddenly, she feels a sharp pain in her lower lip and pulls back slightly, panting. Yennefer smiles at her and smooths the spot that she had nipped with the pad of her thumb. Tissaia tries to lean forward, to capture the other woman’s lips in another bruising kiss, but Yennefer lowers her hand, and her fingers encircle Tissaia’s throat.
‘I asked you a question,’ she says, the timbre of her voice dangerously low.
There is the faintest hint of pressure. Tissaia closes her eyes briefly and moans quietly against the palm of Yennefer’s hand.
‘I do,’ she says.
‘Good.’
Without releasing her hold on Tissaia’s throat, Yennefer tilts her head and places a soft kiss on her waiting lips. Then, she pulls back without a word and rises to her feet, leaving Tissaia alone on the chaise lounge, hot and flustered and uncomfortably aroused.
‘Where are you going?’ Tissaia asks before she can stop herself.
Yennefer looks down at her and clicks her tongue against the back of her teeth. ‘Patience, my love,’ she says as she fastens her robe. ‘The afternoon is still much too hot, and I fear you may faint at the slightest exertion.’
‘I am not some delicate southern maiden, Yennefer.’
‘I never said you were.’
Tissaia watches as Yennefer walks to the other end of the chaise lounge and picks up the grimoire she had been pretending to read. She opens it and flicks through a few pages before she finds what she is looking for. For a moment, she stares at the page and taps her finger against the leather cover; then, she sits back down next to Tissaia, holding the book close to her chest.
‘I was sketching you if you must know,’ Yennefer says.
Tissaia blinks; she had not been expecting an answer. ‘Dare I ask why?’
‘My intentions are pure, I assure you. Although-,’ Yennefer smiles as she drags her eyes up and down Tissaia’s body ‘-if you were willing….’
‘No.’
‘Perhaps another time.’ Yennefer’s gaze drops to the book in her lap, and her smile falters. ‘You’ve half a dozen portraits in Aretuza,’ she says, ‘displayed for the pleasure of all visiting dignitaries and mages. I intend to rectify this grievous injustice, to capture an image of you that is unsullied by their wandering gazes, reserved for my eyes only.’
Yennefer takes a piece of paper out of the grimoire and hands it to Tissaia, watching her closely. The resemblance is undeniable – high cheekbones, an angular jaw and a small nose – Tissaia can see that the woman Yennefer has drawn shares her features, and yet they are not the same.
‘Impressive,’ Tissaia says. ‘You have a fine talent, Yennefer. Though I believe your bias is all too showing.’
Yennefer gives her a blank look. She doesn’t understand, Tissaia realizes, that they’re both in over their heads. That nothing this good is meant to last.
Tissaia takes a deep breath and reaches out to stroke Yennefer’s frown with her fingers. ‘You’ve flattered me quite dearly,’ she continues, her hand moving down to trace the other woman’s jaw. ‘There is a softness to your image that does not befit me.’ And never would.
A robin flies through one of the open windows and lands on the vanity beside a vase of wildflowers. It ruffles its feathers and whistles cheerily as it hops between the clutter of delicate glass phials and small wooden boxes. Tissaia can see her spare pins nestled in a pewter dish by the mirror and wonders whether Yennefer put it there just for her.
She looks back at the sketch in her hands and feels Yennefer touch her forearm. Slender fingers wrap around her left wrist, and Yennefer rubs the back of her hand with her thumb as she takes the piece of paper from her.
‘Do you trust me?’ she asks.
‘Of course,’ Tissaia says. ‘Above all others.’
Yennefer smiles and leans forward to kiss the corner of Tissaia’s mouth. ‘Then trust in my skill and hear the truth in my words,’ she says, bringing their foreheads together. ‘My work is honest, and my strokes true, because I see you, Tissaia, and I know who you are.’ She lays her hand on Tissaia’s chest, touching the spot where her amulet would usually rest. Tissaia cannot remember the last time she had gone so long without it. ‘You are a fool if you think you can hide from me now that I’ve seen through your disguise. No,’ Yennefer’s hands slide down to Tissaia’s waist as she kisses her breastbone, ‘never again.’
Sorry it's taken so long to send u my Yennaia prompt for the setting+trope+sentence prompt game. Here it is- Setting/Au: 36. Hospital AU, Trope: d. Amnesia, Sentence: 2. “fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck.” And also can one of them have an irrational fear of needles please? lol.
Break a Leg (AO3)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Tissaia de Vries
Additional Tags: Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Actress! Yennefer, Teacher! Tissaia, prompt, hospital au
Summary: One minute, Yennefer is leaving the stage to get ready for her curtain call, the next, she's in a hospital bed with no idea how she got there.
Just a quick note to say that I’m going to take down my bad-things-happen-bingo fic ‘Bloody Entertainement’ and reupload the stories individually becuase I’ve decided I don’t like having them all under one banner and summary. There are 10 in total. I’ll probably upload two a day starting tommorow. I have something original coming out tonight Xx
1.5K (Originally for the Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional Tags: Bartender! Yennefer, Doctor! Tissaia, Memory Loss, Flirting, i think, Bouncer! Geralt, only mentioned - Freeform
Summary:
It was one fifty-five, five minutes till closing, when she walked through the door and almost made Yennefer drop the glass she had been cleaning behind the bar.
Dialogue Prompt: "I feel like we've met before..."
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional Tags: Angst, Letters
Series: Part 5 of Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge
Summary:
The letter lay untouched on her desk, its creases marked by dust...
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Fringilla Vigo
Additional Tags: crackfic, Flash Fiction, This is trash, enjoy, Dialogue
Series: Part 4 of Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge
Summary:
CRACKFIC for the flash fiction challenge.
“Yes, who’s this?” Yennefer asked. “My worst enemy? I’m sorry, you’re going to have to be more specific.”
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional Tags: Science Fiction, Soldier Yennefer, Scientist Tissaia, Bodyguard
Series: Part 3 of Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge
Summary:
Yennefer is escorting the colony's head of biological sciences Dr Tissaia de Vries on a field expedition when their group is ambushed.
Flash fiction and dialogue prompt: “Keep your head down,”
Is it really stealing when the necklace belonged to your girlfriend in the first place? Flash fiction and dialogue prompt: “I don’t really think of myself as a thief..."
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV)
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional Tags: Flash Fiction, Yennaia, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst
Series: Part 2 of Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge
Extract:
“I don’t really think of myself as a thief,” said Yennefer.
“Then your boundaries need adjusting,” said Tissaia.
“I only returned what that bitch stole from you. I’m a righteous criminal.”
“You’re no Robin Hood.”
“I could never pull off those tights,” said Yennefer. Not that she didn’t have the legs for it.
Tissaia scowled. “This isn’t a joke, Yen,” she said. “You could get arrested.”
“I haven’t done anything, that necklace is yours,” Yennefer said, and gestured to the box in front of Tissaia.
