#adow x oc

[adarafaelbarba]

Cold hands / mittens

Normally, especially in the summer time, Nora would have no issue with Baldwin’s cold hands. But as the temperatures dropped, either in the chateau or wherever she was, she appreciated the coldness of his hands less.

The sweetest touch, under her shirt and the dip of her lower back, would be almost torture when she felt the chill in the air.

“Jesus Christ have mercy! Lucius don’t put your icicle hands on me!” She called out one evening after putting her daughter to bed.

“Sorry my love, I forgot.”

But there was a glint in his eyes. He never forgot anything.

Baldwin was doing it on purpose.

She turned to him slowly and gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“Do that again, and I’ll end you.”

The way she said it would make anyone shiver. However he knew better.

“Of course darling.”

“I’m serious! I’m already cold enough.” A shiver going through her body for added effect.

He let out a shoft chuckle, leaning in to kiss her. “I’m sorry my love. I just love to see you jump.”

“Asshole.”

Baldwin laughed some more, asking why the cold hands were an issue when his cold gaze wasn’t.

“Because you don’t mean to look at me. But you do it on purpose when you put your icicle hands under my shirt!”

“And when my cold lips press up yours? What then?”

He was teasing her now, but she became needy for his kisses.

“And when I fuck you? What then?”

Nora blushed hard, looking away. She felt arousal pool up in her panties and and she pulled him in for a kiss, clinging to him.

“Shut up and take me to bed.”

~~~

tagging:

@plaidbooks @xoxabs88xox @bidisasterforben @beatrice-san @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @rozalynfrozen

[butternuggets-blog]

FOR WANT OF A NAIL

@baldwin-montclair @adowobsessed @sylverdeclermont @nicki-mac-me @thereadersmuse @kynthiamoon @wheresthesunshinesblog @adowbaldwin @beautifulsoulsublime @lady-lazarus-declermont @adarafaelbarba-blog @dogblessyoutascha

Part Fifty-Four

Summary:  Baldwin Montclair had a string of ex girlfriends, a single child, and a  lifetime longer than most people could dream of to make all kinds of  mistakes. His family knew one which kept coming out of the woodwork to  irritate him every other century

Also on AO3

When the call to arms finally came Yvette felt like she could breathe properly again. It was the anticipation of disaster that always hit her the hardest; she stood firmly in the eye of maelstroms.

England and France had been raiding each other's ships of supplies and mercantile goods for around two years now. Skirmishes between French galleys and English cogs up and down the coast, towns and villages raided; there had been civilian casualties in both countries but still it wasn't technically "war".

The match to the powder keg had been news that King Edward was planning to set sail from England but was suffering delays. King Philip, taking advantage of his opponents' momentary lapse of focus, sailed the Great Army of the Sea - 200 repossessed ships, mostly of Norman make - to Sluys on the Flanders coast and cut off the English-held port's communication lines to home.

Scrambling his resources in record time, Edward set sail, a two hundred and fifty ships to Philip's two hundred and thirteen.

It was breathtaking, watching the black dot grow on the horizon. By noon Yvette could actually see the cogs in full sail bearing down on them, and by mid-afternoon they attacked.

Yvette heard her uncle swear as the first volley of arrows rained down. She was crouched behind a couple of barrels, a tiny shield raised above her head; from her position she could look across the deck through the howling wind and torrential rain to see the archers at the starboard edge returning fire, peppering the English longbowmen with their crossbows.

A soldier hit the deck as she watched, the shaft of an arrow buried deep in the man's eye. Blood slicked the deck; someone was screaming.

Breathe. Move. Collect the arrows.

Yvette sprinted, fell, shield still raised and someone else's blood on her knees. The ship beneath her was lurching to the left, fighting against the rudder that was forcing it right.

'Here! Girl!'

The soldier looked stricken by his slip of the tongue.

'Apologies m'lady-'

Yvette ignored him. The fleet had been lashed together to create a barrier against the encroaching English but the current had carried them to the east and around each other, until everyone was hopelessly entangled. By the time the order came to cut loose the enemy was upon them.

Yvette looked up, spotting the problem. One of the bolts holding the chains in place had twisted, sticking into and pinning other chains and thick knots of rope. She worked her slim fingers between the mess, holding her breath as she slowly worked the bolt free.

The chains and rope jumped as the bolt slid loose but she got herself clear before they sliced through her fingers. Wiping grease and rainwater onto the rest of the bolts, she worked them out of their holes as the soldiers sawed through the ropes and someone yanked her clear as the ship detached from the rest of the fleet.

'Merci,' Yvette pat the soldier on the arm. 'Godspeed your good work!'

The men gave a hearty cheer as she ran on. Down into the hold, along midship to the store, then back up to the men clutching several sheaves of arrows.

________________________________________________________________

They lost, in the end.

The Flemish had attacked the rear when the battle began to turn, so that between them and the English and the roaring sea the French fleet began to break down. Nicolas Béhuchet de Musy de La Loupe d'Escrignolles, one of the fleet's commanders, had been captured and hung from his own mast, while many men jumped in the water to avoid capture, only to drown as they were dragged beneath the waves.

Yvette shivered violently, but kept a firm grip on the burlap sack in her hand. She was drenched, soaked to the bone in rainwater, seawater and blood, but she had refused to stop doling out the ship-biscuit rations the men were owed.

Her uncle had sworn an oath to her father to get her home safe. She owed it to him to help his men get back safely as well.

'That is enough, now' Baldwin carefully pried the sack from Yvette's frigid hand as she passed by.

'But I have not finished-'

'Yes you have,' Baldwin knelt down, smiling proudly, and wrapped Yvette's hands in his. 'You have done very well, and I am so proud of you. Now rest. You need your strength.'

Yvette nodded reluctantly.

'Besides, we need to get you out of those clothes and into something dry!' Baldwin led her up the deck towards his sleeping quarters. 'Your father would kill me if I let you catch another cold.'

________________________________________________________________

-Yvette stood firm on the bow. Our daughter has far better sea legs than you or I! She gets her strength from her father, never flinching in the face of the enemy. And nine years of age!

Your face has been ever-present in my mind since we last spoke. There is an ache for you that gnaws at me whenever I am abed. In the quiet I miss you. In the sunshine and the darkness you haunt me. I wish I could touch you.

Author's Notes

"The Battle of Sluys, also called the Battle of l'Écluse, was a naval battle fought on 24th June 1340 between England and France. It took place in the roadstead of the port of Sluys (French Écluse), on a since silted-up inlet between Zeeland and West Flanders. The English fleet of 120–150 ships was led by Edward III of England and the 230-strong French fleet by the Breton knight Hugues Quiéret, Admiral of France, and Nicolas Béhuchet, Constable of France. The battle was one of the opening engagements of the Hundred Years' War." Wikipedia

The French suffered losses of between 16,000 to 20,000 men; those who didn't drown upon flinging themselves into the water to escape capture (most soldiers couldn't swim) were viciously clubbed to death by the Flemish English-loyalists if they made it to the shore. 190 French ships were lost, with 166 captured.

A galley was a type of oared ship with a long hull; similar pre-medieval examples include the Scandinavian longships that were used by Viking raiders. Many galleys had sails, but they were primarily driven along by teams of oarsmen.

A cog was a clinker-built ship, made of oak, and used for trade and travel during the Medieval period. Clinker-built means that the edges of the hull planks overlapped each other; cogs were also bigger than galleys, with a greater carrying capacity.

Hard tack, or ship's biscuits, were a staple of navies world-wide from the 17th to the early 20th century. The earliest version of a ship's biscuit could be found in Egypt (dhourra cake) or Rome (bucellatum); they were designed to last for months at a time, providing a necessary source of food on long voyages if nothing else could be provided, and to help ease the strain on supplies.

[plaidbooks]

Bathing Suit Mishaps

A/N: This is just a short thing of Gallowglass x Lyra (OC) for @storiesofsvu2-0 bingo, covering the Free Space, as a swimsuit buying. Lol I’m writing this in my Grad class. (the “bathing suit” is at the end, under a readmore)

Tags: lil bit of dirty talk, allusions to smut

Words: idk, short

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @adowbaldwin

Diana and Matthew had invited Gallowglass and Lyra over to use their swimming pool in the heat of summer. The only downside is that Lyra had never been swimming; she didn’t have a swimsuit, let alone knew how to swim. Gallowglass had assured her that he wouldn’t leave her side for a second--even though the pool was shallow enough to stand in--but she was still nervous.

Diana was supposed to go with Lyra to the store to buy a swimsuit, but she got caught up with the twins. Instead, Gallowglass gave her his credit card, a kiss on the cheek, and told her to have fun.

It wasn’t the first time Lyra had been in town before, but it was her first time alone. All the store fronts caught her eyes, and she found herself staring in the windows for hours.

But one shop caught her eye the most. There were flowers all over the display, and mannequins with eye-catching, fancy swimsuits. Lyra’s eyes widened at the one in the main display; it was a minty green, with white flowers stitched into the material and delicate lacing in front.

“That one catch your eye, hun?” a woman in the doorway to the shop asked.

Lyra jumped slightly before smiling. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed.

The woman half pulled her in, her mouth already running. It was so many questions and information that Lyra’s head was spinning. She was dragged to the changing rooms, then the woman pulled out a tape measure and started giving Lyra instructions.

Swimsuit bought, Lyra made her way home, mind still whirling with the woman’s voice.

************

“Try it on, sweetheart--lemme see ya,” Gallowglass said, pushing Lyra into the bathroom, bag containing the swimsuit clutched in her hands.

She stripped quickly, then pulled the silky material over her skin. It felt amazing on her, and she smiled at herself in the mirror. She brushed her hair over her shoulders, took a breath, then stepped out into the room.

Gallowglass’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide. He scanned over her body slowly, taking in every detail and curve. He sniffed, trying to control himself, but still, he couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice.

“That’s not a swimsuit, darling. That’s lingerie.”

Confused, she looked down at herself. “What’s lingerie?”

“Something I’m about ta rip off ya,” he said darkly, rushing towards her.

[mrs-declermont]

Do you think if Baldwin is overworked and stressed, and Nora were to offer to build a lego set together or do some small, easy craft, that he'd calm down and do it or be grumpy?

I could see them doing painting maybe? or yeah, building legos. which I think would be quite the sight to see 😅

He'd never let anyone know, and tells Nora to never utter a word about any of it, which she promises.

[apinchofm]

Hiiiiiiio, hope you're doing great! I just finished sunshine and iT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD, ANF I LOVED IT SO MUCH. anyway, if you're feeling like it! Could you write something for them with one (or all, i won't complain 🤧) for them?

grumpy one just does everything the sunshine one says. like they cannot for the life of them say no

what it looks like once they start rubbing off on each other

“i love it.” “i think i just puked.”

Thank you so much lovely! So glad people enjoyed Sunshine! These prompts are definitely a lot of fun!

grumpy one just does everything the sunshine one says. like they cannot for the life of them say no.

This sums up Baldwin and Alyssa's relationship

Alyssa was typing up some notes, sitting in the living room of Sept Tours, Diana marking papers and Marcus doing research.

"Babe, can you get me a bottle of orange juice?" Alyssa yelled, still typing.

Within a second, Baldwin was back from the kitchen and back with a bottle of orange juice and her water bottle, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you!" Alyssa chirped, returning to her work, unaware of the confused looks she was getting.

"Baldwin can you-" He left the room before Marcus could even say anything.

"How did you do that?" Diana asked. She merely shrugged.

[witches-unruly-heart]

Gallowglass for zodiac and color?

And maybe Lyra, too? 👀🥰

Of course I'll do both of them! They're my loves! 🥰

So Gallowglass first -- I couldn't choose between two colors, so its a mix of both 😅❤️

As for the zodiac signs I took the positives of Virgo and the negatives of Gemini 🥰

Now onto Lyra 🥰

Here I also couldn't pick a color, so you get two 🥰

and for her zodiac sign I feel she has the positives of Aquarius and the negatives of Pisces 😅❤️

[susanpxvensie-wp]

Ophelia Jackson-Clairmont née Foster-Jackson ( insp. & insp. )

Matthew, we have the chance to change history. We can’t just sit back and do nothing. I’m sorry, mon coeur, but there is nothing to be done. I don’t believe that. And I can’t believe that you do, either. Don’t you think that the covenant is wrong? That Philippe was wrong to create it in the first place? I know he was your father, but you have to admit, he was not perfect — no parent is. Creating the covenant did more harm than good. Like I said, there is nothing to be done. The Congregation will ensure that the covenant will never be overruled. I don’t understand why you won’t fight for us. Because to go against something as ancient as the covenant would mean certain death. It is a fight we cannot ever hope to win. So, you’re not even going to try? Ophelia, it is too dangerous. I would never forgive myself if you were harmed. But what about the countless other creatures we could save if we managed to disband the covenant? Matthew, this is about more than just us. Can’t you see that? Please, think about this. Diana and I can’t do this without you and your family. The Congregation has a higher chance of listening to the de Clermonts than a couple of witches who don’t know how to use their magic. Matthew, I’m not proud of it, but I’m begging you. Don’t leave. We can win this fight. I know we can. Please. Ophelia... I love you. There, I said it. I know we’ve only known each other for a month, but I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life. I love you, Matthew de Clermont. Ysabeau will continue to ensure your safety here at Sept-Tours while I am in London. You and Diana will be protected. So, that’s it? You’re just going to walk away. I have no choice, Ophelia. There is always a choice. Not always. You’ve been many things in your long life, Matthew de Clairmont, but I never knew you were a coward.

Read here: Wattpad, AO3

[crossoversthatshouldntexist]

If Matthew Clairmont met me: a witch, historian, and teacher in a prison.

Matthew: “, I’m too dangerous. I have killed people. We cannot break the covenant.”

Me: “Bro, I literally am in a room full of rapists and murderers everyday. I teach them math. I’m not really concerned.”

Matthew: “The congregation could have you killed. Or your family.”

Me: “Bet. I know gangs In the tri-state area.”

[bobfloydsbabe]

Another ask for Freyja! When did she first meet Marcus? What was their first impression of each other?

Thank you so much for asking, Effie! I never talk about Freyja, so I'm happy to be able to do so.

Freyja and Marcus meet when he shows up in Talvik to speak to her at Baldwin's request (read: order). Freyja is skeptical and distrustful of Marcus, knowing he is there on his uncle's behalf and not for a good reason. She is wary of him and does not respect him in any way. She thinks he lacks integrity, but that's only because she doesn't know the full context of why Marcus does what Baldwin asked of him.

Marcus is intrigued by Freyja, but her hostility throws him for a loop. She seems so sure of herself, confident and a little arrogant, but the people in her village respect her. They look to her for guidance and sometimes even survival. He's even more surprised to find that the people of Talvik are entirely aware that she's a vampire but don't seem to care much.

They are immediately attracted to each other, though, and their relationship grows to be one of respect and mutual understanding. It's a bumpy road, however, especially for Freyja, who doesn't give up her independence willingly and who isn't sure if she fully believes in the concept of mates. Marcus is willing to wait for her, though, because he does believe in the mate bond and feels it pretty soon after meeting Freyja.

Thanks again for asking. All your other asks should be answered in the next couple of days!

[sleeplesssheep]

The Dance Hall- Veni, Vidi, Vici

They were hidden in a far corner of the grand room, not even the most wandering eye could find them. Light from the crystal chandeliers had been replaced with much softer light from candles lining the marble walls. Conveniently, a small table and chairs had been placed there.

Plopping herself down into the folding chair with a loud sigh, Breanna placed her aching feet on the extra chair between her and Baldwin. He gave her the stink eye as she did so.

“What? I’d like to see you trot around in heels like this, vampire. Not even an extremely powerful witch like me can escape the pain of a stiletto,” Brea teased playfully and for the briefest of moments she saw something of a smile form on her partners face.

Well, partner for this evening anyway.

The two of them lapsed into silence, comfortable in eachothers oddly soothing presence.

All the sudden, Breanna let out a great giggle that echoed amoung the walls. She quickly brought a hand up in an effort to silence the bell like noise.

Once again, Baldwin eyed her with his brown seemingly black eyes. However, rather than hold animosity or irritation he looked simply amused (and a little curious of course).

What was it this time that made the witch laugh like so?

His mind whirled a mile a minute trying to answer said question, but before he could guess Breanna interrupted him.

“I was just pondering about why they would put this table here, so far from everything and everyone one. Not like there’s a bathroom or kitchen or exit here...” She trailed off and lifted her dark thin eyebrows suggestively.

“I am afraid I don’t understand-”

“Well, my dear ancient friend, I would suggest removing that hand from this most certainly dirty surface.”

Baldwin let out a groan, partially of disgust as he realized her meaning and therefore the meaning/use of the table, and partially of arousal as Brea had sensually emphasized ‘dirty.’

Before Baldwin could do anything except lift his arm so quickly of the table it slammed into the wall behind him and cracked the aged white marble, Breanna had taken his cold hand and led them back to the dance floor- laughing the entire way.

[adarafaelbarba]

What do you think Baldwin’s reaction would be to someone (Nora, maybe?) giving him flowers or a gift?

He’d be stunned at first. Not used to actually get anything.

But Nora is insistent, standing there with her arm stretched out with the gift or bouquet in hand.

«What’s this my love?» He’d ask, moving closer to her to look.

«A gift. Happy birthday love.» The smile on her lips so soft he couldn’t help but lean in for a small kiss.

«It’s not my birthday—»

«I know that—but no one knows when it is, so I’ve designated it for today.»

A laugh left him, more surprised than anything. «Nora—»

«Happy birthday Lucius.»

Baldwin wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a hug, a soft «Thank you» leaving his lips.

The date became an annual day of celebration, the twins and Arielle especially loving that they had a day to celebrate him.

---

Tagging:

@plaidbooks @xoxabs88xox @beatrice-san @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @rozalynfrozen 

Wanna be on the tag list? Fill out this form to be part of the team 🥰

[butternuggets-blog]

FOR WANT OF A NAIL

@baldwin-montclair @adowobsessed @sylverdeclermont @nicki-mac-me @thereadersmuse @kynthiamoon @wheresthesunshinesblog @adowbaldwin @beautifulsoulsublime @lady-lazarus-declermont @adarafaelbarba-blog @dogblessyoutascha

Part Fifty-Five

Summary:  Baldwin Montclair had a string of ex girlfriends, a single child, and a  lifetime longer than most people could dream of to make all kinds of  mistakes. His family knew one which kept coming out of the woodwork to  irritate him every other century

Also on AO3

...I caught a flash of red hair today and thought of you. Sept Tours is so close and yet hundreds of miles away...

...a tobacconist opened up opposite the fruit shop that sells apricots now they are in season. I am forced to walk betwixt them to reach my place of work. It is agony...

...I keep coming upon new fancies that I know would make you laugh. I hate how I cannot share them...

...I see you in my dreams and when I wake it is rotten that I wake alone...

________________________________________________________________

Yvette was a Looker. She had learnt, at a very young age, the useful skill of taking up as little physical space as possible, watching and listening to the world passing by around her. Children were to be seen and not heard; Yvette happily made sure neither verb applied to her when she didn't want them to.

Watching her father, for instance. She had always been encouraged to be inquisitive, and she took a keen interest in learning how her father held himself when he was conducting business, the ticks and tells he affected to put people at ease or push them into tripping over their own lies.

At Sept Tours she watched her uncle put on similar masks, wielding anger like a surgeon's knife to get at the root of a problem. She stood half-hidden in plain sight while grown men were reduced to blubbering messes beneath her uncle's unwavering glare.

She watched when they were alone. When her father supped wine at the windowsill or played cards by himself on the hearth. When her uncle went out riding or hawking, or stayed up late looking wistfully at old maps as they stirred up memories.

She had also been watching when they were together. The long glances full of hopelessness at each other's backs. The warmth in their smiles when the other one laughed loudly, eyes shut or blurred with tears. The stillness that resulted whenever fingers accidentally brushed; the way they curved towards each other, unconscious of the movement.

And Yvette was watching now as Philippe called for her uncle and Baldwin jumped up from his chair, stashing an unfinished letter in a desk drawer before speeding off. She had been exploring the servant's hallway in the wall, peeling back the doors cleverly concealed by the woodgrain to look in on various rooms.

She waited a moment to see if Baldwin would come back; when he didn't she ventured forth from her hiding spot and crept up to the desk.

Yvette plopped herself down in her uncle's chair and felt along the bottom lip of the desk with both hands until her fingers brushed a tiny lever tucked up into the frame. She smiled and pressed it; there was a dull thud as something unclicked and she opened the drawer her uncle had just closed.

She hadn't meant to read the letter. She had been focussed on the brass seals wrapped in leather that Baldwin had plucked from their hidden compartment and shown to her mere days ago. He had made her close her eyes when he'd used the mechanism but her ears were sharp and she'd figured out what he'd been doing.

Her father's seal for the Knights of Lazarus was also made of bronze, with a pair of glassworking shears set above a knight kneeling in prayer. On the opposite side was a cross, with a tiny boar's head and a torc set above and below it, and Secretum Lazari stamped around the edge.

-Yvette-

Her own name caught her eye. She looked at the letter.

-Yvette arranged the cups precisely as Marthe instructed her and the countess spilt wine down her front exactly as they had hoped! A braggart taken care of, and no one the wiser that anyone was to blame but herself.-

Yvette grinned. The woman's loud squawk of surprise had been hysterical, and her face! The servants had been laughing at it for days.

-I miss you.

Yvette froze. She read from the beginning again.

I miss you. I wish I could find the courage to tell you in words what I happily commit to paper but I do not want to ruin our friendship. I will hold back my heart for both our sakes.

A light breeze stirred the room, as if a ghostly presence was leaning over her, reading over her shoulder.

'..I have two pères, do I not?' Yvette whispered, a smile on her lips.

The breeze stirred again in agreement.

Author's Notes

Boars were a Gallic symbol of battle

[plaidbooks]

Homegrown chapter 11

A/N: Sorry I’ve been absent on this story--this chapter was hard for me to write. But I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! This also doubles as the Free Space square in @adarafaelbarba‘s bday bingo (I’m counting it as First Kiss)!

Tags: talks of mating (in the adow sense)

Words: 1635

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @adowbaldwin

For the first time since her abduction, Lyra slept fully, never once having a nightmare. Anytime she regained even a little bit of consciousness, she felt Gallowglass beside her, his strong arms holding her, and she fell back asleep.

But once she was actually awake, the room slightly lighter in morning than the dark of night, she realized how tight his hold on her was. Gallowglass had his left arm wrapped over her uninjured shoulder. His right arm was around her hip, and his hands were clasped in the middle of her back. There was no moving from his grasp on her, and from his slow, deep breath on her face, he was still deep in sleep.

Lyra’s eyes flickered open, and it took her a moment to adjust to the low light in the room. They settled on Gallowglass’s face—she had never been this close to him before. She scanned his sleeping face, enjoying how vulnerable he was with her. His face was stress-free, the lines smoothed out and the worried little pinch between his eyebrows was gone. She could see the lines around his mouth and eyes—a sign of multiple lifetimes spent laughing.

She looked at his facial hair, noticing every little strand. Only then did she notice a thin, white scar on his cheek; it was virtually invisible, mostly hidden by his beard, and she wondered how he got it. Then she started wondering how many other scars he had, both visible and on the inside. She vaguely acknowledged that she herself would probably have scars from her time with Liam.

Slowly, Gallowglass’s breath picked up. Lyra watched as he woke, his face scrunching softly—it was probably the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Finally, his eyes blinked open, connecting with her bright eyes.

He smiled softly, breathing out a soft, “hi.”

Her answering smile made his heart flutter in his chest. “Hi, Eric. Did you sleep well?”

“Better with ya beside me.”

She let out a giggle before nuzzling against his chest. It felt so right, having her in his arms like this, and it seemed that time slowed down, letting them bask in the morning sun. Soon enough, Lyra was back asleep against him, and he grinned.

But his joy was short lived; he knew he was going to have to talk to her about mating sooner or later. The longer he sat on it, the worse it would be.

 **************

It was midday when Lyra woke once more. She stretched her good arm above her, wincing only slightly, before letting out a yawn. Gallowglass was still in bed with her but had left briefly while she slept to retrieve a book.

He placed a bookmark in the book. “How’re you feeling, my sweet flùr?” he asked when she finished stretching.

“A little sore, but much better, thank you,” she replied with a soft smile.

Slowly, he leaned over and set his book on the nightstand. “Here, let me grab you some food and tea—”

“Don’t!” Lyra said in a panic, eyes wide. Then she seemed to shrink in on herself. In a small voice, she muttered, “don’t leave me, please.”

He settled back on the bed, and she curled closer to him. “Okay, I’ll stay here. Besides, I’m sure Marthe is already putting a tray together for you.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before there was a knock on the door. Then Marthe was pushing into the room, a steaming mug and an array of fruits, vegetables, and nuts on a bed tray. Gallowglass helped Lyra sit up as Marthe put the tray across her legs. Then, shocking Gallowglass, Marthe kissed the top of Lyra’s head before retreating from the room.

The room fell to silence outside of the sounds of Lyra eating and drinking. Gallowglass was lost in thought, trying to figure out where to start with the concept of mating.

“Lyra…do you know what…what the word ‘mating’ means?” he finally asked. Might as well start there.

“Do you mean the act of mating between two animals to produce offspring?” she asked as she nibbled an apple slice.

If Gallowglass could blush, he would. “Not…exactly. See, in the vampire world, mating is a biological…thing. It’s a bonding, um, thing that vampires have with each other. And sometimes, with other creatures.”

Lyra finished her apple slice, chewing slowly while she thought and swallowing. “A bonding…thing? Like, two creatures bonding together?”

“Yes, exactly!” he said, glad she was following along. “For vampires, they take one mate, and they’re mated for life. Marcus and Phoebe are mated, for example.”

“So, they’ll be together for life?”

Gallowglass was nodding now, and excitement building up in him—along with nerves going haywire. This is what he’d been waiting for. “Yeah, they will be…. I bring this up because…I think you…and I…” his voice trailed off, his nerves and doubts taking over his mind. If she rejected him, if she said no—

“Are we mates, Eric?” she asked plainly. Her voice and face were neutral, unreadable—or maybe his head was so full of anxiety that he couldn’t look at her straight.

He finally looked away, unable to take those bright green eyes any longer. “Yes,” he muttered, lips barely moving, “yes, I think we are.”

Very gently, she cupped his cheek with her good hand. His beard tickled her palm; she didn’t try to move his head, just wanting the connection. “Good. Because I don’t think I could imagine my life without you, Eric.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before he looked up at her, her hand still on his cheek. “Really? Y—you understand that you’ll be stuck with me for life—”

“I do.” Lyra smiled, her warmth melting the cold shield he’d used to protect himself his whole life. “How do I become your mate? Or do we just say it?”

Gallowglass smiled, tempted to cry, to laugh, to scream his love for this woman next to him. “To initiate a mating, you have to kiss me with nothing but love for me.” Even saying the words out loud sounded like some sort of fairy tale, but a thought occurred to him. “Wait, do you know what a kiss is?”

Lyra rolled her eyes playfully, “of course, I know what a kiss is, Eric.” Then, she leaned in towards him.

Gallowglass had pictured kissing Lyra too many times to count; how soft her lips would be. In his mind, she’d part her lips in surprise at how he kissed her, and he’d be quick to push his tongue into her mouth. That’s when he’d slow down, take his time to memorize every inch he could. She’d figure it out by then and would roll her tongue with his, melting into his body as they kissed forever.

In the present, Gallowglass ducked his head down, helping Lyra to reach him, his eyes closed, and she pecked his lips, their lips touching for less than a nanosecond. He opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Lyra asked, frowning. “Did I do it wrong?”

It took Gallowglass a moment to compose himself, shaking his head. “No, I’m laughing at myself, and my lack of foresight.” When she just tilted her head in confusion, he continued, “there’s more than one kind of kissing. What you did is called a ‘peck,’ and is normally reserved for your granny.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with her good hand in surprise. “So, I did mess it up! Did I mess up the mating? Are we not mated anymore?”

“Hey, hey, calm down—ya didn’t mess anything up, I promise. How about we try again, but this time, I lead?”

“What if I mess it up, Eric?” she asked, big eyes looking ready to cry.

“You won’t, my sweet flùr. Just follow my lead; we’ll go slow.”

Lyra took a deep breath to help blink away her tears, then she waited for Gallowglass. He was giddy with nerves again, but this time, he was filled with excitement to kiss her. He moved in, tilting his head, and when Lyra started tilting the same way, he grinned before tilting her the other way.

Gallowglass had never been a slow, gentle lover. He knew what he liked, and he tended to seek out partners who wanted the same. “Restraint” wasn’t a term he attributed to himself, but he knew this had to be different; Lyra wasn’t anything like his previous lovers. And he loved that about her.

The moment their lips met, he had the urge to completely dominate the kiss, to push her down and make out with her until neither could draw breath. But he fought this primal side of himself, making sure his lips moved slowly against hers.

Lyra picked this up quick enough, and soon, they were kissing slow and passionately. Gently, he bit her bottom lip, and she let out a little gasp of surprise—the sound going straight to his cock. His tongue parted her lips, and he licked into her mouth, savoring her taste. She was sweet from the fruit she was eating, but also something that was distinctly her.

Slowly, Lyra pulled back, much too soon for Gallowglass’s liking, but he forced himself not to chase her lips. The sight before him, however, was almost his undoing; Lyra’s pupils were blown wide, her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were slightly swollen.

“O—oh,” she muttered softly, a small, shy smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“You okay?” Gallowglass asked, his voice huskier than normal.

Lyra nodded. “Can we…can we kiss again?”

He grinned, pulling her back in for another slow, deep kiss. And as their lips melded together, they felt something in their very souls reaching out and tangling together.

[mrs-declermont]

What if Gallowglass grew out his hair again--but longer, down his back--and he teaches Lyra how to do warrior braids?

Ooooo I want him to grow it back out! 😍

I feel though that Lyra might want to surprise him by learning it herself. Doing some searching in books, online, or talking to Diana, Ysabeau, and Miriam for inspiration.

Once the women of the family all know what she's planning, Freyja jumps in and just "You should have come to me first Lyra, these women, love to bits, don't know how to do propper warrior braids, especially not the ones from Gallowglass' time. I'll teach you."

The two bond over many nights practicing, while Gallowglass is none the wiser about his mates intentions.

[apinchofm]

A Million Pieces

Jack meets the kindest human. He fears his base instincts taking over and harming her, but he cannot stop thinking about her.

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@dreamofme9 @livi-4799 @adow-trash @butternuggets-blog @phoebe36 @matthewsblue@xxskycrystalxx @yourmomsgrandmother @lady-lazarus-declermont @se-souvenir-du-passe @lady-lazarus-declermont @isdathriantionnsgnadh-deactivat

[theboatbuilderswife]

𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝚈𝙰𝚁𝙰 𝙷��𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙰𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 ?

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙱𝙾𝙰𝚃𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴      -HELGA  from history’s Vikings canon divergent after s3 NORMAL ACTIVITY

𝙱𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙰𝙽𝚃      -DIANA BISHOP  from the all souls trilogy / a discover of witches HIGH ACTIVITY

𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙲     -IONA REID  werewolf oc MEDIUM ACTIVITY

𝚂𝙺𝙾𝙶𝚂𝚈𝙽      -SIGRÚNN LEIFSDÓTTIR     vikings oc / völva / mother of helga sideblog to theboatbuilderswife LOW ACTIVITY